The Land of Vice
A/n:[insert BRJ's bitching about disclaimers and about how he can call the white yakuza the white yakuza if he wants. And then don't forget a dash of "useless debating with that guy over the damn M16, and top it off with an on with the show]
The Land of Vice Chapter 11: Flogging Rats
" You sure this is safe?" I asked Lance looking down the dark tunnel.
"No but were using it anyway." He responded taping plastic bags to his feet. I shook my head putting my gun in a ziplock bag and taping my feet in plastic bags.
"Now remember." Paul instructed Lance. " If the tunnel collapses don't panic, you're fucked either way."
Right now your probably confused who this Paul guy is and what the hell we're doing. Well meet Paul Ruebens, the Vercetti family gun smuggler. Respectfully retired at his ripe age of 35. Paul now lives in an abandoned pay and spray in Vice point. And what are we doing exactly? Well we're about to walk a mile through a secret underwater tunnel. Don't ask. It's the only way to the west island.
I slid off the last rung of the old steel ladder, kicking myself for how stupid I am to go along with Lance's plan. I'll fucking kill myself, going down here. Lance followed suit as Ruebens closed the hatch behind us. The tunnel was long, but decently lit. There was a row of lights stringing across the walls at the ceiling and next to the ground. Half a foot of water filled the tunnel, caused by small leaks dripping from the ceiling.
" We'll shall we push forward?" Lance asked straightening his jacket. I shook my head. We started down the tunnel, wading through the ankle high water. When we were halfway through from the looks of it, Lance whipped his gun from his holster and fired a shot into the water. I stumbled back pissed off.
" What the heel was that?!?" I exclaimed.
" Something brushed pass my leg. I looked behind me to see a jet black Rat scamper away along the brick work.
" Probably a fuckin' rat." I responded as Lance put his 9 away. We continued on, wary of rats. Until we reached the end of the tunnel, a rusting steel ladder leading to a rusting steel hatch. I climbed the rungs and tried the hatch. It was stuck pretty well.
" Shit." I aid jumping off the Ladder. "Can't open the damn thing."
" Let me try mine." Lance replied pulling a door charge from the insides of his jacket.
" Aw c'mon man, a door charge ain't gunna open that thing. It's shut tighter than a crab's ass.
Lance just shrugged his shoulders and attached the charge to the hatch setting it for 6 seconds. We backed up as the charge blew the hatch straight off it's hinges. Dust and bits of metal flew everywhere. Lance just dusted himself off and continued up the ladder. I looked at him in shock.
" My own recipe." He replied to my shocked look.
The rusted hatch led to the bowels of an abandoned apartment building. It seemed the tunnel was supposed to be reserved for the fat political cat's bomb shelter, they would cower underground as their people died fighting back. The shelter itself was rusting and degrading, old can food lined the selves and cots lay dusty and unused. We found a freight elevator, bullet proof and radiation proof. It ascended amazingly to another short narrow radioactive proof hallway. This place can't and never will be used, that and someone let the generator running. After the hallway we found ourselves in the boiler room. It was dark and dim. We gave ourselves 10 minutes of fumbling around in the dark we found a door and our way out into the Gray rainy skies.
We needed to be mobile if we wanted to find the White Yakuza. Lance had a simple solution to our epidemic.
And luckily there were no cops standing around when he busted out a Manana's Window with a pair of brass knuckles.
" I guess you used to boost?" I asked him getting into the passenger seat. He took out a switchblade and hot-wired the car. It hummed to life.
" Kid I'm one of the original kings of car jacking." He stated flipping his blade shut. He put the car in gear cruising down the main drag of the west- island. I looked around at the buildings, searching for a red LOBO.
" Well do you see any-" lance's question was cut off as we rear ended a Yardie Lobo. I was shocked to hell, as it had happened down the street from Pete's bike emporium near the place where Tommy and I Iced Smith. Lance got out of the car, brass knuckles in hand. I followed suit with a tire iron I found in the back seat. For the second time today Lance busted out a car window. He pulled the driver (a Jamacian) out through the broken window and shoved his gun in his face.
" What the fuck you doin' mon?" Demanded the Yardie, pissed off as I busted out the other window and opened the door. I ran my hands along the leopard skinned interior, coming up with nothing but a MAC-10 submachine gun and a bag of dope. I stuffed the weapon in my belt and cut open the bag, spilling it on the ground.
"Well?" Asked Lance, his gun still digging a hole in the Yardie's neck. I shook my head. Lance shook his and pulled the Yardie up. I went to the back of the Manana and popped the trunk, Lance threw the Jamacian inside cuffing his hands.
" What the hell iz goin' on mon'?" he asked confused.
" Tommy Vercetti sends his regards." I replied closing the trunk lid like some hitman from pulp fiction.
The Police had arrived quickly enough but considering we were down the street from the Downtown Precint. Lance Drew both his guns as the first car came. He jumped out from behind the Manana and fired Akimbo, Blood splattering the wind shield killing the two cops inside. Then another cop ran over to us to join in the carnage, I pistol whipped him and fired 3 shots into him. Then 2 more cop cars showed up.
" I think we should leave." Lance said getting into the passenger's seat of the Manana. I nodded getting into the driver's seat. I hit it in high gear, the two joined by another cop car tailing me. 2 cars snuck up on each sides of me, the passenger in the cruiser to my left wielding a shotgun. On instinct I hit the brakes just as the one on the left fired. The shot missed our car barely and hit the one to the right killing its driver. The car went out of control clipping a telephone pole, and landing on its back. When I hit my brakes though the cop car behind me rear-ended me on accident, wielding a muffled scream by our passenger in the trunk.
I had made it up to the leaf links' bridge and pulled a right, driving over the median and made another u turn onto the bridge. Roaring past the police barricade The cop car that had tried to cap my door with a load of buckshot had pulled up to my left again, racking another shell and taking aim. I rammed the cruiser onto the bridge's median. The cop car flipped over onto its back sending sparks flying everywhere.
We came off of the bridge, now just being trailed by one cruiser. He sped up to me on my left side and started screaming into his megaphone.
" STOP YOU SONOVABITCH."
We past the gate leading into the country club.
".YOU'RE BREAKING THE LAW!"
The cop never got to finish his sentence as he slammed into a trashamster picking up the morning's garbage from Leaf Link's golf course. The rammed into the garbage truck head on, metal grinding against metal and glass shattering and killing the cop inside. We drove out the other exit of the country club heading past Mercede's apartment to Paul's place. We dumped to Manana in the PAY n' spray's garage as Paul walked out of his office. He took a look at the car.
" What the hell happened?" he asked us as Lance reloaded his weapons.
" Ah ran into a little trouble downtown. But we got ourselves a little souveneir." Replied Lance popping the trunk lid. The Jamacian crawled his way out of the trunk, his left arm broken in three places from the rear ending. He fell out of the trunk onto the cold hard cement. Ruebens wasn't impressed. He twiddled his large handle bar Moustache.
" What the shit is this?" He asked staring repulsively at the Moaning Jamacian. " It's a fuckin' Jamacian stoner get him the hell out of my shop."
" No can do Ruebens." I stated lighting up a cigarette. " We need this prick to get the Flush out the white Yakuza, so do us a favor and tie him up."
" Yeah and get rid of this car." Lance Replied over his shoulder as we walked out the door.
"Yeah? What's in it for me?" Ruebens shot back as the doro swung shut behind us.
TO BE CONTINUED
A/n:[insert BRJ's bitching about disclaimers and about how he can call the white yakuza the white yakuza if he wants. And then don't forget a dash of "useless debating with that guy over the damn M16, and top it off with an on with the show]
The Land of Vice Chapter 11: Flogging Rats
" You sure this is safe?" I asked Lance looking down the dark tunnel.
"No but were using it anyway." He responded taping plastic bags to his feet. I shook my head putting my gun in a ziplock bag and taping my feet in plastic bags.
"Now remember." Paul instructed Lance. " If the tunnel collapses don't panic, you're fucked either way."
Right now your probably confused who this Paul guy is and what the hell we're doing. Well meet Paul Ruebens, the Vercetti family gun smuggler. Respectfully retired at his ripe age of 35. Paul now lives in an abandoned pay and spray in Vice point. And what are we doing exactly? Well we're about to walk a mile through a secret underwater tunnel. Don't ask. It's the only way to the west island.
I slid off the last rung of the old steel ladder, kicking myself for how stupid I am to go along with Lance's plan. I'll fucking kill myself, going down here. Lance followed suit as Ruebens closed the hatch behind us. The tunnel was long, but decently lit. There was a row of lights stringing across the walls at the ceiling and next to the ground. Half a foot of water filled the tunnel, caused by small leaks dripping from the ceiling.
" We'll shall we push forward?" Lance asked straightening his jacket. I shook my head. We started down the tunnel, wading through the ankle high water. When we were halfway through from the looks of it, Lance whipped his gun from his holster and fired a shot into the water. I stumbled back pissed off.
" What the heel was that?!?" I exclaimed.
" Something brushed pass my leg. I looked behind me to see a jet black Rat scamper away along the brick work.
" Probably a fuckin' rat." I responded as Lance put his 9 away. We continued on, wary of rats. Until we reached the end of the tunnel, a rusting steel ladder leading to a rusting steel hatch. I climbed the rungs and tried the hatch. It was stuck pretty well.
" Shit." I aid jumping off the Ladder. "Can't open the damn thing."
" Let me try mine." Lance replied pulling a door charge from the insides of his jacket.
" Aw c'mon man, a door charge ain't gunna open that thing. It's shut tighter than a crab's ass.
Lance just shrugged his shoulders and attached the charge to the hatch setting it for 6 seconds. We backed up as the charge blew the hatch straight off it's hinges. Dust and bits of metal flew everywhere. Lance just dusted himself off and continued up the ladder. I looked at him in shock.
" My own recipe." He replied to my shocked look.
The rusted hatch led to the bowels of an abandoned apartment building. It seemed the tunnel was supposed to be reserved for the fat political cat's bomb shelter, they would cower underground as their people died fighting back. The shelter itself was rusting and degrading, old can food lined the selves and cots lay dusty and unused. We found a freight elevator, bullet proof and radiation proof. It ascended amazingly to another short narrow radioactive proof hallway. This place can't and never will be used, that and someone let the generator running. After the hallway we found ourselves in the boiler room. It was dark and dim. We gave ourselves 10 minutes of fumbling around in the dark we found a door and our way out into the Gray rainy skies.
We needed to be mobile if we wanted to find the White Yakuza. Lance had a simple solution to our epidemic.
And luckily there were no cops standing around when he busted out a Manana's Window with a pair of brass knuckles.
" I guess you used to boost?" I asked him getting into the passenger seat. He took out a switchblade and hot-wired the car. It hummed to life.
" Kid I'm one of the original kings of car jacking." He stated flipping his blade shut. He put the car in gear cruising down the main drag of the west- island. I looked around at the buildings, searching for a red LOBO.
" Well do you see any-" lance's question was cut off as we rear ended a Yardie Lobo. I was shocked to hell, as it had happened down the street from Pete's bike emporium near the place where Tommy and I Iced Smith. Lance got out of the car, brass knuckles in hand. I followed suit with a tire iron I found in the back seat. For the second time today Lance busted out a car window. He pulled the driver (a Jamacian) out through the broken window and shoved his gun in his face.
" What the fuck you doin' mon?" Demanded the Yardie, pissed off as I busted out the other window and opened the door. I ran my hands along the leopard skinned interior, coming up with nothing but a MAC-10 submachine gun and a bag of dope. I stuffed the weapon in my belt and cut open the bag, spilling it on the ground.
"Well?" Asked Lance, his gun still digging a hole in the Yardie's neck. I shook my head. Lance shook his and pulled the Yardie up. I went to the back of the Manana and popped the trunk, Lance threw the Jamacian inside cuffing his hands.
" What the hell iz goin' on mon'?" he asked confused.
" Tommy Vercetti sends his regards." I replied closing the trunk lid like some hitman from pulp fiction.
The Police had arrived quickly enough but considering we were down the street from the Downtown Precint. Lance Drew both his guns as the first car came. He jumped out from behind the Manana and fired Akimbo, Blood splattering the wind shield killing the two cops inside. Then another cop ran over to us to join in the carnage, I pistol whipped him and fired 3 shots into him. Then 2 more cop cars showed up.
" I think we should leave." Lance said getting into the passenger's seat of the Manana. I nodded getting into the driver's seat. I hit it in high gear, the two joined by another cop car tailing me. 2 cars snuck up on each sides of me, the passenger in the cruiser to my left wielding a shotgun. On instinct I hit the brakes just as the one on the left fired. The shot missed our car barely and hit the one to the right killing its driver. The car went out of control clipping a telephone pole, and landing on its back. When I hit my brakes though the cop car behind me rear-ended me on accident, wielding a muffled scream by our passenger in the trunk.
I had made it up to the leaf links' bridge and pulled a right, driving over the median and made another u turn onto the bridge. Roaring past the police barricade The cop car that had tried to cap my door with a load of buckshot had pulled up to my left again, racking another shell and taking aim. I rammed the cruiser onto the bridge's median. The cop car flipped over onto its back sending sparks flying everywhere.
We came off of the bridge, now just being trailed by one cruiser. He sped up to me on my left side and started screaming into his megaphone.
" STOP YOU SONOVABITCH."
We past the gate leading into the country club.
".YOU'RE BREAKING THE LAW!"
The cop never got to finish his sentence as he slammed into a trashamster picking up the morning's garbage from Leaf Link's golf course. The rammed into the garbage truck head on, metal grinding against metal and glass shattering and killing the cop inside. We drove out the other exit of the country club heading past Mercede's apartment to Paul's place. We dumped to Manana in the PAY n' spray's garage as Paul walked out of his office. He took a look at the car.
" What the hell happened?" he asked us as Lance reloaded his weapons.
" Ah ran into a little trouble downtown. But we got ourselves a little souveneir." Replied Lance popping the trunk lid. The Jamacian crawled his way out of the trunk, his left arm broken in three places from the rear ending. He fell out of the trunk onto the cold hard cement. Ruebens wasn't impressed. He twiddled his large handle bar Moustache.
" What the shit is this?" He asked staring repulsively at the Moaning Jamacian. " It's a fuckin' Jamacian stoner get him the hell out of my shop."
" No can do Ruebens." I stated lighting up a cigarette. " We need this prick to get the Flush out the white Yakuza, so do us a favor and tie him up."
" Yeah and get rid of this car." Lance Replied over his shoulder as we walked out the door.
"Yeah? What's in it for me?" Ruebens shot back as the doro swung shut behind us.
TO BE CONTINUED