DAY 4: CHAPTER 8:
Nightfall's
What Kenji called a place to sleep was a hammock between two fake palm trees in his casino. What Kenji called weapons were really weapons, though; the man had multiple M-16's, Uzi's, Beretta Pistol's, and a shotgun. He had a limited amount of AK-47's, though, as he only got them from dead Cartel.
It was a quiet night at the Casino. Asuka told me about how things could get wild here. It could get wilder near Asuka's turf at the construction site. If you controlled the construction site, you would lose it soon enough. It was wear the Yardie's, the Cartel, and Yakuza all met up; the center of the warzone.
Kenji had left for something. He said he was going to steal some cars at the parking garage, trying to steal a BF Injection or a Infernus or something. Maybe it was for a meeting with someone, who knew. Asuka also left, heading back to her place to hang with Maria.
Creek. Creek. Creek. This floor creeked easily in some spots, hard at others. It was early morning when this started. I know I have to see what it is. It's got to be something making the floor creek.
I stood up. It was to dark to tell. I slept in my street clothes - still had a leather jack thick enough to take a Beretta shot. I reached a counter, took an M-16 that had been behind the counter along with a bullet proof vest. I got behind the counter and mounted the M- 16, ready for what would come.
The lights turned on. There were many Cartel all around us. They didn't see me; but they were looking for someone important. I didn't turn the lights on: the Cartel were stupid enough to take the chance.
I pulled the trigger. Bullets flew. I probably hadn't killed any, just injuring a couple. The Columbian Cartel turned at me and fired, taking cover and such.
I reloaded when I took some heat. I was below the counter reloading, not realizing that not all of the counter was strong enough to withstand a bullet hit. Some bullets whizzed by my head.
So this is what it's like to stair at death, I though. Nothing to fear but fear itself.
I got up and fired at them again. I saw that many of the Yakuza head been killed, as I wasn't the only one being shot at. My firing gave some of them time to get away.
A Yakuza dived right over the counter and next to me. He hadn't been hit. I figured I could take alliance in this.
"Cover me." he said.
I didn't know why. He was a protector of the inside of this Casino, so he knew his way around; I trusted him to bring out the secret weapon or whatever. And hell, did he ever.
He stood up and grabbed a crate as I stood up and fired. I fired like a fire ignites when in a gas tank, blasting my way out. He brought the crate down.
"What's that?" I thought as both crunched lower than the counter.
"Wine. Wine for Molotov Cocktails."
Thank the lord. I knew it would be better if we threw some regulaur wine out there and then through out a flaming bottle, as the fire would spread quicker.
"Throw some non-flaming one's first."
"I know the god damnded procedure."
I guess he was smarter than he looked. As he threw the wine and liquor bottles, I pulled out my Uzi and grabbed one under the counter and shot at them. We both went down for the last time.
"They are idiots! Out of ammo throwing wine at us!"
They we're idiots. He through the flaming cocktail above the counter and at the Cartel.
Some Cartel got away, but atleast now I could leave. I holstered my Uzi again.
I saw a bloodied Cartel lieing down.
"Help me sir. You are no Gringo. You are warrior, sir. Help me, help me please!"
Mercy. I loved the game of mercy. You would cause pain with one hand locked to another person's hand, just creating pain and never quit.
This man just entered himself in a game of Mercy. Nearly killing me and my protectors? My friends? My only allies? That mofo, I though. He was dead.
"I am no Gringo. I am a warrior. You, on the other hand. are dead."
I pulled out the assault shotgun I kept in my right jacket holster out.
"See you in hell, fucker."
BAM. Four. Four kills by me in four days. I was definitely wanted by the cops or the cartel. I was wanted by somebody, and wasn't safe anywhere. That's when I heard them.
I heard the sirens. Shit. I was dead, or atleast I needed to get out. I needed to escape; and I needed to escape as quick as lightning.
What Kenji called a place to sleep was a hammock between two fake palm trees in his casino. What Kenji called weapons were really weapons, though; the man had multiple M-16's, Uzi's, Beretta Pistol's, and a shotgun. He had a limited amount of AK-47's, though, as he only got them from dead Cartel.
It was a quiet night at the Casino. Asuka told me about how things could get wild here. It could get wilder near Asuka's turf at the construction site. If you controlled the construction site, you would lose it soon enough. It was wear the Yardie's, the Cartel, and Yakuza all met up; the center of the warzone.
Kenji had left for something. He said he was going to steal some cars at the parking garage, trying to steal a BF Injection or a Infernus or something. Maybe it was for a meeting with someone, who knew. Asuka also left, heading back to her place to hang with Maria.
Creek. Creek. Creek. This floor creeked easily in some spots, hard at others. It was early morning when this started. I know I have to see what it is. It's got to be something making the floor creek.
I stood up. It was to dark to tell. I slept in my street clothes - still had a leather jack thick enough to take a Beretta shot. I reached a counter, took an M-16 that had been behind the counter along with a bullet proof vest. I got behind the counter and mounted the M- 16, ready for what would come.
The lights turned on. There were many Cartel all around us. They didn't see me; but they were looking for someone important. I didn't turn the lights on: the Cartel were stupid enough to take the chance.
I pulled the trigger. Bullets flew. I probably hadn't killed any, just injuring a couple. The Columbian Cartel turned at me and fired, taking cover and such.
I reloaded when I took some heat. I was below the counter reloading, not realizing that not all of the counter was strong enough to withstand a bullet hit. Some bullets whizzed by my head.
So this is what it's like to stair at death, I though. Nothing to fear but fear itself.
I got up and fired at them again. I saw that many of the Yakuza head been killed, as I wasn't the only one being shot at. My firing gave some of them time to get away.
A Yakuza dived right over the counter and next to me. He hadn't been hit. I figured I could take alliance in this.
"Cover me." he said.
I didn't know why. He was a protector of the inside of this Casino, so he knew his way around; I trusted him to bring out the secret weapon or whatever. And hell, did he ever.
He stood up and grabbed a crate as I stood up and fired. I fired like a fire ignites when in a gas tank, blasting my way out. He brought the crate down.
"What's that?" I thought as both crunched lower than the counter.
"Wine. Wine for Molotov Cocktails."
Thank the lord. I knew it would be better if we threw some regulaur wine out there and then through out a flaming bottle, as the fire would spread quicker.
"Throw some non-flaming one's first."
"I know the god damnded procedure."
I guess he was smarter than he looked. As he threw the wine and liquor bottles, I pulled out my Uzi and grabbed one under the counter and shot at them. We both went down for the last time.
"They are idiots! Out of ammo throwing wine at us!"
They we're idiots. He through the flaming cocktail above the counter and at the Cartel.
Some Cartel got away, but atleast now I could leave. I holstered my Uzi again.
I saw a bloodied Cartel lieing down.
"Help me sir. You are no Gringo. You are warrior, sir. Help me, help me please!"
Mercy. I loved the game of mercy. You would cause pain with one hand locked to another person's hand, just creating pain and never quit.
This man just entered himself in a game of Mercy. Nearly killing me and my protectors? My friends? My only allies? That mofo, I though. He was dead.
"I am no Gringo. I am a warrior. You, on the other hand. are dead."
I pulled out the assault shotgun I kept in my right jacket holster out.
"See you in hell, fucker."
BAM. Four. Four kills by me in four days. I was definitely wanted by the cops or the cartel. I was wanted by somebody, and wasn't safe anywhere. That's when I heard them.
I heard the sirens. Shit. I was dead, or atleast I needed to get out. I needed to escape; and I needed to escape as quick as lightning.