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Sorry for the delay. I am not dead, nor is the story ;) It took me a couple of re-writes to be satisfied enough with this chapter to put it up, and I'm still not totally satisfied. It's not as great as the other chapters, but the next one will hopefully be better. Also, I forgot to mention this earlier, but the year all this takes place in is 2001, making Tommy roughly fifty years, since he was 35 in Vice City (so says the official strategy guide :P). The next chapter is already written, so expect it to be up soon. I'd also like to thank my friend Nevermore for his input and help and to every one who's reviewed the fic so far. Your comments are greatly appreciated :)
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It was the middle of the afternoon in Saint Mark's as wispy soft clouds caroused through the bright blue sky. A perfect day, a perfect time for an afternoon outing. Andrew Collera walked down to his favorite restaurant with his little girl Samantha. He had promised to take her out sometime during the week, and Anthony's Italian Cuisine was her favorite place. Anthony's was a well respected eatery, not nearly as respected as Marco's Bistro or even Mama's Restaurant, but it held its own among the mirage of local shops. Its food was wonderful and its pizza the best in Portland. Samantha loved the pizza; it was the only thing she ever ordered.
He never felt the need to drive to Anthony's, as it was only a short walk away from their apartment. Everything was always within walking distance, which was why the family didn't even own a car. He never liked to drive when he could save gas and walk. There were already enough cars polluting the air in the city as it was.
After their short stroll, they arrived at Anthony's. It was a nice, small restaurant, and always attracted the better people of Saint Mark's. Marco's and Mama's were for the Mafioso, but Anthony's was for the law-abiding Italian's wanting to keep far away from their "filth". Checkered table-clothes, small candles nestled inside small glass bowls, and paintings of grapevines and the old countryside gave it a very authentic and homey atmosphere.
A few other people were sitting at the tables, as the lunch crowd was just starting to form. Andrew was lucky they arrived early. Ten more minutes and the place would have been filled to the gills.
Nick, the current owner, was behind the counter, giving change to a customer. A smile quickly crossed his face and he headed over to greet Andrew.
"How're you doing Drew? It's good to see you again. Your usual seat?"
"Hey there Nick." Andrew said with a smile. He gave a small nod. "Yeah, by the window, please."
Nick escorted the two to a small table near the large window. They sat down and took the menus stationed between the small table candle and the salt and pepper shakers.
"I don't think I even have to ask you what you want, eh Sam? The usually cheese pizza?" Nick asked. The small girl gave a shy smile and nodded her head. "Okay. And what about you, Drew?"
Andrew looked over the menu for a few seconds before deciding. "The alfredo with clams, please."
"A fine choice sir." Nick smiled. "I'll be right back with your drinks. A coke and an ice tea, right?"
"You know us too well." Andrew laughed.
"I have to know my two best customers, don't I?" Nick said. "I'll be back with your drinks, okay?"
Andrew looked at his daughter and smiled. She was always a very quiet girl who kept to herself, ever since the death of his wife. These lunches were always great ways to try and bond more with her, as he often blamed himself for not always being there for her. With his demanding, and often stressful job, Andrew hardly found the time. The lunch tradition began a month ago and it was starting to pay off. Their relationship had begun to get better and Andrew was thankful for it.
After a few minutes, Nick arrived with their drinks and Andrew thanked him before Nick headed back to the counter to take care of a customer. As Andrew sipped on his ice tea, the bell on the door chimed, and two men walked into the restaurant. They approached the counter and waited until the customer there left. Andrew didn't pay them any mind and he began to daydream as he looked out the window. Suddenly, commotion could be heard from the counter and then, a gun shot. The two men had executed Nick and began to fire at the other patrons in the restaurant. At the sound of the fire, Andrew grabbed Samantha and quickly hid under the table, pressing himself against the wall. He held onto her tightly and shut his eyes as bullets ricocheted off the walls and bits and pieces of brick flew into the air. The men fired a few more shots, killing a woman seated three tables in front of Andrew and ran towards the door, shooting crazily. Once they left, Andrew opened his eyes. The restaurant lie in shambles and bits of debris from various objects and people were scattered all over the room as the smoke from the guns still lingered. Andrew gripped Samantha tightly then pulled back in horror as crimson blood stained onto his shirt. He let out a scream of agony as Samantha lie lifeless, blood flowing freely from the hole in her chest.
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Tommy Vercetti looked out onto the mass of life below him from the window in his hotel suit as the mid-day sun poured into the room, split by the intricate designs on the large arched windows. The warm rays felt good, and he closed his eyes for a bit, collecting his past memories of his long forgotten childhood. He sometimes had felt regret at choosing to stay and live the remainder of his life in Vice, rather than return home to Liberty and be with his friends and family. After he was released from his long term in prison, he had been rather hastily shipped over to Vice City and never got a chance to tell anyone where he was headed to. When he finally won control of the city, after the arduous firefight with Sonny Forelli, he felt it best to stay there and gain renounce and remain only as a memory in Liberty. He would have kept it that way too, had it not been for the current circumstances. He knew had he returned to Liberty any earlier, especially after his conquest of Vice City, that he would have made the lives of the ones he cared for a living nightmare.
He let out a small sigh and turned away from the glass. Grabbing a drink from the bar, he went to sit down in front of the large, big screen TV. Ken Rosenberg, Tommy's lawyer and friend of many years was already watching the news.
"Yeah, look at that." Ken muttered, pointing at the screen. "We got here right when it's starting to get good."
On the TV, the nightly news was reporting on the recent events surrounding the war between the Leones and Triads. The event of the day was an attack on a small Italian restaurant in Saint Mark's done by a group of Triads. Bloody pictures flashed on the screen of the massacred and bullet hole ridden bodies of the workers and patrons.
"Just in time." Tommy said softly, taking a drink. He then turned the TV off and the two sat in silence for a few seconds.
"So, what are you going to do, Tommy?"
"Ken, how long have you known me?"
The lawyer thought for a few seconds before replying. "…fifteen years now, right?"
"Right. So, what do you think I'm going to do?"
Ken gave a chuckle. "I know what you're going to do Tommy. I mean, how are we going to do this?"
"I've got my old-fashioned ways."
Ken gave a small nod and there was more silence.
"So, you want me to call up some boys to send out a little message to the Triads for today?"
Ken wasn't just Tommy's lawyer, he was also the person he trusted the most. Not only did he deal with legal issues for him, he often dealt with business matters as well. Ken was much a different person than he had been in the eighties. Ken ended up developing a nice set of cajones over the years with Tommy's guidance. He was much more calm, collected and less annoying once he stopped sniffing the coke.
"Yeah…yeah. Call up Joey and work something out with him. Tell him he can have as many of my guys as he needs."
More silence crept into the room before Ken decided to ask a question that had been nagging him ever since they left the airport.
"Tommy…do you mind if I ask you something personal?"
"Hell Ken, we've know each other for so long I doubt there's anything about me you don't know."
"That's a very frightening thought." Ken said, smiling. "Anyway, I wanted to ask, what kind of people are here that are important to you?"
"Why?"
"I'm just wondering. I don't think you've ever told me about anyone here in Liberty City."
"Yeah…I guess I haven't really said much about that, have I?" Tommy sighed and leaned his head against the leather sofa. "Well…from what I do know, both my parents have been dead for some time now. My two sisters are somewhere in this country, who knows where. Not like I care about them anyway. All I've got here is a lot of childhood friends and acquaintances. A lot of people here helped me become what I am today. I owe them respect and my protection from this shit going on now." He rubbed his eyes a bit and took another drink. "Now do you know why this is important to me?"
"Sure Tommy. I knew it was, I never questioned your need to be down here."
"Then why did you ask in the first place?"
Ken paused, almost afraid to talk.
"But we're not here just for this war…are we, Tommy?" Ken softly spoke.
Tommy got up and headed for the window once more. "No" he replied quietly, almost feeling Ken's shock.
"We aren't gonna start pushing our coke here, are we?" Ken asked, almost startled.
"You know what those damn Colombians are selling?"
"No…"
"SPANK. Some designer drug that turns your mind into shit."
"So what? Are we going for the lesser of the two evils here?"
"Don't you remember I wanted to make a deal with them awhile back? I wanted to make a deal for some supplies and they kept jacking up the prices, trying to squeeze every little damn cent out of me. So I told them to take their coke and stick it up their asses. Now they come here and sell this SPANK shit. You know why? 'Cus they want to piss me off. The stupid pricks…"
"And you waited until Sal Leone was out of the picture to come back, right?"
Tommy gave a nod. "I knew Liberty was a good place to make some money, but with Sal still being the big boss here, it just would have given me trouble. So I decided to wait it out until he kicked the bucket or until he was whacked. Whatever came first. He was a good guy, I would have liked to see him again, but I don't think he would have approved of what I got myself into. He's always been real strict on drugs. Anyway, I'm pretty sure his son doesn't share his opinions."
"Have you talked to Joey?"
"Over the phone."
"Yeah, and?"
Before Tommy could respond, there was a female voice that came from over the intercom in the room, interrupting their conversation.
"Mr. Vercetti." Squeaked the high-pitched voice of the receptionist. "There's someone out here who wants to meet with you."
"Who is it?"
"Says his name is El Burro."
"Have I heard that name somewhere before?" Tommy said, looking at Ken, who just shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah, okay. Search him for anything before you let him in."
Within a few minutes, the large white doors to the spacious hotel suite opened and in walked an extremely obese and rather scrubby looking, bald, Latin man, his arms engulfed in tattoos of all sorts. A dirty white T-shirt and long baggy pants covered his large body. Tommy tried to hide his grimace the best he could while he walked over to greet his guest.
"Mr. Vercetti. I've wanted to meet you all day." El Burro spoke in his low, husky voice, fiercely grabbing Tommy's hand and shaking it.
"Ah…I see." Tommy said, trying to taking his hand out of the death grip. "Is there…something I can help you with?"
"I just wanted to meet the great Tommy Vercetti."
"I'm flattered, really." Being hospitable, he motioned to the bar. "Can I get you a drink?"
El Burro shook his head. "I only come to ask you something."
"That would be?"
"You plan on fighting the Diablos?"
Tommy's interest in the man was suddenly growing. "If they plan on screwing with the people of Saint Mark's, then, yes." He replied. "Why?"
El Burro gave a heavy sigh. "Then…I guess I have no choice. I must kill you."
The massive man, as fast as he could, began to reach for something out of his pants, but within seconds of his statement, Tommy, much quicker, pulled out a pistol and aimed it at El Burro's head.
"Now…what were you saying?" Tommy asked with a smirk.
"Then…I will not kill you?"
"Good choice." Tommy said.
El Burro closed his eyes and began to plead. "Don't shoot El Burro! I give you anything you want! All my donkey memorabilia! Anything!"
Tommy rolled his eyes, annoyed at the whining. "I don't want any of your shit, understand? And I'm not going to kill you."
Visible relief showed on the man's face. No quicker had El Burro let out a huge sigh, then Tommy, in the blink of an eye, fired a shot straight at the fat man's leg. Blood spurted as the metal sped through tissue and a scream pierced the air.
"I'm just going to make you hurt like hell." Tommy smiled as if El Burro's pain gave him some sort of great satisfaction. "Now, go back to your little gang and tell them not to take a step in Saint Mark's. When you fuck with my people, you fuck with me and you really don't want to do that 'cus I get angry real fast, got that?"
Clutching his leg, face screwed up trying to hold in the pain, El Burro gave a nod the best he could.
Tommy turned away from him and sat down at the small bar in the room, lighting a cigarette. "Good. I'm glad we understand one another." He took a drag off the cigarette and looked at Ken. "Get him out of here."
The lawyer quickly helped the injured Diablo leader to his feet and walked him out the door.
Alone in the room, Tommy put his hand on his forehead. This was not going to be so easy. He knew the large Diablo man was too dumb to kill him, but there were probably others out there much smarter and that's what made him worry. Up to this point, he never thought much about his safety. There weren't enough men out there with the balls to try and take him down. Now, he wasn't so sure of himself.
After a few moments, Ken returned. "You had to do that, didn't you?" he said, taking a seat next to Tommy.
"Is he going to be okay?"
"Well that's one hell of a question to ask, isn't it?"
"Naw, I just don't want the prick to bleed to death in this nice hotel, that's all."
"Yeah, I phoned an ambulance to come and pick him up."
"The asshole tried to kill me."
"I guess so." Ken said with a sigh, rubbing the back of his head.
"Remind me to fire that receptionist."
"Is it just me, or does it seem to be not as safe around here as we thought?"
"I guess not everyone can be happy about my visit."
"Have we even considered the Yakuza? I mean, don't they own the area where this hotel is? Last I heard they don't like Italians too much."
"It's not that they don't like them. They don't care too much for the Leones. I don't blame them either. They have been moving in on the Yakuza's businesses. That's all it is." Tommy took a glance at his watch. "Speaking of which, I was suppose to meet with a member of the Yakuza today." He finished, putting out his cigarette and getting up.
"Whoa. Where are you going?"
"I just told you."
"You're not meeting with them here?" Ken asked in his high-pitched troubled voice.
"No. I told them I'd meet them over at one of their offices."
"Are you nuts?!"
"Look, Ken. They need to know they can trust me. If I don't earn their trust, we don't make a deal. Understand? It's much more convincing if I meet them on their own turf."
"Tommy, Tommy." Ken said, following his friend to the doors. "I understand where you're going with this but, don't you think it's just a little too dangerous to meet without any bodyguards? Especially after what just happened?!"
"Ken. Calm. Down." Tommy said slowly. "You're going to give yourself a heart attack." And without another word he opened the white double doors and headed out of the room, not giving Ken another chance to speak.
Ken Rosenburg watched as his friend ignored his concerns and left the hotel room, heading for dangerous territory, alone. Ken had known Tommy for many years and knew he was more than able to take care of himself. Of course, that was Tommy when he was fifteen years younger. Regardless of how angry Tommy would be, Ken picked up the phone in the room and alerted two bodyguards to discreetly follow the crime lord.
The office building wasn't far from Tommy's hotel and it didn't take him long to reach his destination. Upon arrival, he was searched by two Yakuza goons, and once found clean of weapons, escorted to the top floor to meet with the leader. When Tommy entered the room, he was greeted by a very young, slim and comely Japanese man, dressed in a sharp suit and sitting behind a large desk. The man rose and approached Tommy bowing slightly.
"Vercetti-san. Konnichiwa."
"Konnichiwa." Tommy replied, returning the gesture.
The man then motioned for Tommy to take a seat.
"I welcome you to Liberty City and Staunton Island. I hope your stay in the hotel has been accommodating?"
Tommy gave a nod. "Yes, very much so."
"Very good." The man paused. "My apologies. I am Yamoto Miyazuki. I am the cousin of Kenji and Asuka Kassen."
"Nice to meet you. I'm sorry to hear about your cousins."
Miyazuki gave a slight nod. "Now…let us get down to business, yes? I am well aware of your type and of what kind of business you do. So, I must ask, what are your intentions here in Liberty?"
"Well, as I'm sure you know, the Leones are fighting a war with the Triads and now the Diablos. Those two gangs are planning on moving towards Saint Mark's. I've got a lot of friends there and I don't want to see them hurt."
There was a short pause and Miyazuki gave a small laugh. "Don't take me for a fool. You have other motives as well, don't you?"
"I was assuming that's why you asked me here."
"So, do you think you'll be pandering your drugs here in Staunton?"
"Look, are you going to buy from me or not? I came because I thought you wanted to make a deal, not play thirty questions." Tommy said angrily.
"I think you misunderstand. We want to make sure you're clear on keeping your drugs out of our areas. The Yakuza are not your filthy peddlers. We are sophisticated, business oriented..."
"Which is why you're getting small-time gangs like the Yardies moving in on your turf, pushing the Yakuza out? Is that what you want?"
"We don't need anymore SPANK-crazed maniacs on our streets."
"This isn't SPANK. This is coke. This isn't some designer drug shit, alright? If you don't start to get in on this now, your 'organization' is going to end up fucked just like the Leones."
There was more silence, Miyazuki let out a heavy sigh, as if he knew the truth in Tommy's words. The man rubbed his temples and leaned forward on the desk.
"Very well then. Make me an offer I can't refuse."
Back in the hotel room, Ken waited anxiously for Tommy's return. Tommy had always managed to make deals and get what he wanted. It was a certain charm he had about him. He knew how to deal with people. Ken just wasn't always sure people knew how to deal with him.
While waiting alone in the room, he couldn't help but think of his family back in Vice City. During their first year of rein down in the city, Tommy had helped Ken find a girl. Her name was Kathryn. She was a nice girl, a Jewish girl and very polite and sweet. He was almost amazed that there were any women of her decency left in the city. Latter the two married and another year after had their first child. Never in his wildest dreams had he ever imagined of having a real family. All his past relationships had failed miserably, but by some strange miracle, this one survived. He gave part of the credit to Tommy, who helped him break out of his cocaine habit. Had he remain addicted to the drug, the relationship probably would have gone to hell within a manner of weeks. He owed a lot to Tommy. Ken never had very many friends, but Tommy always stood by him, despite how annoying he knew himself to be to others.
After an hour or so, the white double doors finally opened, only to reveal a rather worse for wear Tommy.
"What the hell happened to you? Did the deal go okay?" Ken asked, as Tommy went into the bedroom. After a few minutes he emerged in a fresh suit and sat down at the bar, pouring himself a new drink. He took a swig of the liquor and looked at Ken.
"Yeah, it went fine."
"Fine?"
"The Yakuza ran into some Yardie problems. I helped them out, so they accepted my offer. I told you I could take care of it."
"You're amazing Tommy, you know that? Freakin' amazing."
Tommy gave a slight smile. "I wish you wouldn't have sent those bodyguards, only got in the way."
"I was worried, okay?"
"Well, thanks for your concern, mom."
"You're like an animal or teenage kid or something, you know? I've always gotta watch you." Tommy gave a laugh then took a drink. "Seriously."
"Where would I be without you, Ken?"
"Probably in jail." Ken said with a smirk.
Tommy gave Ken a stern glare and then let out a smile.
"Getting this deal with the Yakuza is a good start. They just might be enough to bring us some money here."
"Well, making a deal with one of the local gangs is fine and dandy, but if we had an operation of our own to control down here, it'd probably be more lucrative, don't ya think?"
Tommy thought for a few seconds. "That had crossed my mind."
"Or better yet, we could make even more. Think about it. We can make some cash by having the Yakuza sell our stuff as a side project. Meanwhile, we're making the big greens with our own business down here."
"And what'll that be?"
"Didn't you use to say your dad worked at a printing factory? So are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
"We've got our own counterfeiting ring down in Vice. We don't need another."
"You can never have too much of a good thing."
"We're going to piss off a lot of people, you know."
"So what if we do? When did you ever start worrying about pissing people off? You've been doing it for fifteen years." Tommy was silent, but gave Ken a stern look. "Or well I mean, it doesn't have to be counterfeiting, it was just a suggestion."
Tommy finished off the rest of his drink. He looked down at the floor for a bit and as if some great plan had suddenly come to him, he abruptly got up and then headed for the door.
"Hey, where're you going now?" Ken asked almost in a sigh.
"To see an old friend."
