He opened his eyes, as if waking up from a deep sleep. He was back in
Liberty City, lying face down on the road with a gun against his head.
"Don't move!"
A fat policeman was holding the gun, the officer grabbed his arms, twisted them behind his back and handcuffed him before dragging him to his feet. Three more policemen stood around him, the nearest cop un-holstered his pistol and brought the handle down on his head with a big swing. The blow caused stars in front of his eyes and he fell to his knees, his wrists twisted painfully in the handcuffs as he tried to keep his balance. The second police officer ran forward and knocked the wind out of him with a sharp kick to the stomach, he slumped to the ground and lay in a fetal position, gasping for air. He looked up and saw the third cop step forward, a large boot was raised above his head before the police officer brought his foot down on his jaw, pounding his face into the asphalt.
He passed out.
When he awoke he was in a small cell in the Staunton Island police station lying on the thin steel bench that was supposed to pass for a bed. He was bruised all over, his head was sore and his jaw felt badly dislocated. He rubbed his wrists where the handcuffs had been, then he patted his jacket pockets. Of course the police had taken his weapons but it was worth checking anyway. Something crumpled in his inside pocket, he pulled out a folded sheet of paper and thought back to that mysterious room where he had got it from. That room was his last memory before he had woken up lying on the road. How did he get there? How did he get back? Maybe this paper had some clues.
He unfolded the note and looked at the list written on it, at the top were the words FULL HEALTH followed my a meaningless string of letters and shapes, it was some sort of code. He focused on the code, and tried to decipher it.
Something changed.
That's the only way to describe it. It was as if the world had shifted and changed slightly in a split second. But what was different? He looked around the cell, nothing seemed out of place. He looked down at his hands, there were no scratches and cuts on them, he looked at his wrists, the red marks where the handcuffs had cut into his skin were gone. He opened and closed his mouth. . . his jaw felt fine and so did his head.
He looked back at the paper. FULL HEALTH, that must be some kind of spell. He had figured out what the code was, he didn't really care HOW it worked or WHY it worked, all that mattered was that he was now practically invincible and life could turn out to be a lot of fun from now on.
He looked at the next item on the list. ALL WEAPONS, he could hardly believe his luck. He focused on the code and the world changed slightly once again. He almost fell down from the sudden increase in weight as he found his pockets suddenly filled with grenades, numerous rifles and machine guns stuffed under his jacket and a large bazooka materialized on his back held by a thick shoulder strap.
He grinned.
A cop snored, asleep at his desk in front of the cell, the prisoner looked through the sight of his new sniper rifle and trained the crosshair on the policeman's face. He zoomed in until he could see every eyelash on the sleeping cop's right eye. He pulled the trigger, BULLSEYE! The officer squirmed in his chair as the bullet ricocheted around the inside of his skull then, as if falling back to sleep, he stopped. Motionless, head bent forward and blood pouring out of his empty eye socket, there was a clink and a flash of silver as the bullet fell out of his brain cavity and bounced on his desk.
With no chance of the cop waking up, he paced the cell looking for a way to escape. A barred window high on the back wall flooded moonlight into the room, he grabbed the window bars and pulled himself up to look outside. The view looked out over the police car park at the back of the station, a SWAT van and a couple of cars were parked there. He examined the back wall, it looked old and was crumbling in places, it could probably be broken down with a ram from a heavy vehicle from the outside. Or. . . . .
The heavy metal bench scraped the floor noisily as he tipped it on its side so that the top of the bench now faced the back wall like a large steel shield. He climbed behind it and ducked down before looked up at the window again. It was small and there were 3 bars across it, this would be difficult and if he got it wrong it was almost certain death for him.
He pulled a grenade out of his pocket and weighed it up in his hands, he needed to get the aim and trajectory exactly right. He took a deep breath, pulled the pin and threw, it curled across the cell on direct course for the window. There was a clank, the grenade hit one of the bars and bounced back into the cell.
Sh!t
He ducked down behind the bench and waited for the explosion. There was a slight hiss, then nothing but the faint smell of smoke. He peeked over the edge of the bench, the grenade lay on the ground smoking slightly but otherwise looking pretty lifeless.
It was a dud.
He breathed a sigh of relief and grabbed the dud bomb, and rolled it out under the cell door into the office on the other side just incase it decided to go off sometime in the future. It would probably give some police officer a nice suprise when he found it along with his dead colleague.
Once again, he pulled a new grenade from his pocket and ducked behind the bench. 'Second time lucky' He thought as he hurled the grenade, it sailed across the cell and passed easily through the window. He lay down behind his shield and braced himself. There was a huge blast and the wall billowed inwards. Large pieces of brick smashed into the bench and buckled it in the middle, bits of rubble and plaster showered down on top of him.
The wall was down, an alarm blared out loudly.
He pushed the debris off himself and stood up, a large mound of bricks had spilled out over the cell floor, the bench barricade had prevented it from covering him completely. He clambered over the pile and ran out onto the cap park. Luckily for him, the police had left the SWAT van unlocked. He climbed in and hot-wired it with ease. He drove off down the ramp as more than twenty police officers swarmed out of the building like angry insects. Bullets deflected off the side of the SWAT van as it disappeared through the exit.
Once again he had escaped the police, he patted his pocket with the paper in, now it was time for some fun!
"Don't move!"
A fat policeman was holding the gun, the officer grabbed his arms, twisted them behind his back and handcuffed him before dragging him to his feet. Three more policemen stood around him, the nearest cop un-holstered his pistol and brought the handle down on his head with a big swing. The blow caused stars in front of his eyes and he fell to his knees, his wrists twisted painfully in the handcuffs as he tried to keep his balance. The second police officer ran forward and knocked the wind out of him with a sharp kick to the stomach, he slumped to the ground and lay in a fetal position, gasping for air. He looked up and saw the third cop step forward, a large boot was raised above his head before the police officer brought his foot down on his jaw, pounding his face into the asphalt.
He passed out.
When he awoke he was in a small cell in the Staunton Island police station lying on the thin steel bench that was supposed to pass for a bed. He was bruised all over, his head was sore and his jaw felt badly dislocated. He rubbed his wrists where the handcuffs had been, then he patted his jacket pockets. Of course the police had taken his weapons but it was worth checking anyway. Something crumpled in his inside pocket, he pulled out a folded sheet of paper and thought back to that mysterious room where he had got it from. That room was his last memory before he had woken up lying on the road. How did he get there? How did he get back? Maybe this paper had some clues.
He unfolded the note and looked at the list written on it, at the top were the words FULL HEALTH followed my a meaningless string of letters and shapes, it was some sort of code. He focused on the code, and tried to decipher it.
Something changed.
That's the only way to describe it. It was as if the world had shifted and changed slightly in a split second. But what was different? He looked around the cell, nothing seemed out of place. He looked down at his hands, there were no scratches and cuts on them, he looked at his wrists, the red marks where the handcuffs had cut into his skin were gone. He opened and closed his mouth. . . his jaw felt fine and so did his head.
He looked back at the paper. FULL HEALTH, that must be some kind of spell. He had figured out what the code was, he didn't really care HOW it worked or WHY it worked, all that mattered was that he was now practically invincible and life could turn out to be a lot of fun from now on.
He looked at the next item on the list. ALL WEAPONS, he could hardly believe his luck. He focused on the code and the world changed slightly once again. He almost fell down from the sudden increase in weight as he found his pockets suddenly filled with grenades, numerous rifles and machine guns stuffed under his jacket and a large bazooka materialized on his back held by a thick shoulder strap.
He grinned.
A cop snored, asleep at his desk in front of the cell, the prisoner looked through the sight of his new sniper rifle and trained the crosshair on the policeman's face. He zoomed in until he could see every eyelash on the sleeping cop's right eye. He pulled the trigger, BULLSEYE! The officer squirmed in his chair as the bullet ricocheted around the inside of his skull then, as if falling back to sleep, he stopped. Motionless, head bent forward and blood pouring out of his empty eye socket, there was a clink and a flash of silver as the bullet fell out of his brain cavity and bounced on his desk.
With no chance of the cop waking up, he paced the cell looking for a way to escape. A barred window high on the back wall flooded moonlight into the room, he grabbed the window bars and pulled himself up to look outside. The view looked out over the police car park at the back of the station, a SWAT van and a couple of cars were parked there. He examined the back wall, it looked old and was crumbling in places, it could probably be broken down with a ram from a heavy vehicle from the outside. Or. . . . .
The heavy metal bench scraped the floor noisily as he tipped it on its side so that the top of the bench now faced the back wall like a large steel shield. He climbed behind it and ducked down before looked up at the window again. It was small and there were 3 bars across it, this would be difficult and if he got it wrong it was almost certain death for him.
He pulled a grenade out of his pocket and weighed it up in his hands, he needed to get the aim and trajectory exactly right. He took a deep breath, pulled the pin and threw, it curled across the cell on direct course for the window. There was a clank, the grenade hit one of the bars and bounced back into the cell.
Sh!t
He ducked down behind the bench and waited for the explosion. There was a slight hiss, then nothing but the faint smell of smoke. He peeked over the edge of the bench, the grenade lay on the ground smoking slightly but otherwise looking pretty lifeless.
It was a dud.
He breathed a sigh of relief and grabbed the dud bomb, and rolled it out under the cell door into the office on the other side just incase it decided to go off sometime in the future. It would probably give some police officer a nice suprise when he found it along with his dead colleague.
Once again, he pulled a new grenade from his pocket and ducked behind the bench. 'Second time lucky' He thought as he hurled the grenade, it sailed across the cell and passed easily through the window. He lay down behind his shield and braced himself. There was a huge blast and the wall billowed inwards. Large pieces of brick smashed into the bench and buckled it in the middle, bits of rubble and plaster showered down on top of him.
The wall was down, an alarm blared out loudly.
He pushed the debris off himself and stood up, a large mound of bricks had spilled out over the cell floor, the bench barricade had prevented it from covering him completely. He clambered over the pile and ran out onto the cap park. Luckily for him, the police had left the SWAT van unlocked. He climbed in and hot-wired it with ease. He drove off down the ramp as more than twenty police officers swarmed out of the building like angry insects. Bullets deflected off the side of the SWAT van as it disappeared through the exit.
Once again he had escaped the police, he patted his pocket with the paper in, now it was time for some fun!
