=Chapter 4: The Empire Deteriorates= Tommy's chopper landed on top of the Pole Position. Tommy and his pilot walked down the steps into the VIP room. They didn't bother worrying, since the Pole was one of Tommy's most lucrative properties. He saw a few bouncers he didn't recognize, but he couldn't know whom every employee at every place he owned was. He watched as his pilot's lap dance began. The stripper was a dark-haired Russian woman named Natalya, one of the highest earning dancers at the Pole Position. She had him hypnotized, and damn near had Tommy hypnotized too. She continued to dance, and while running her hand down her leg pulled a .38 snub nose revolver out of her boot. Tommy watched as the look on the man's face changed from happiness to horror, and 2 seconds later his brains were splattered over the wall. Tommy was unarmed, and knowing he was next, turned and ran from the hail of bullets coming from a few more men who had busted into the room. He ran out from the club and jacked some guy's Kuruma. 3 Sentinels came roaring out of the garage and gave chase. A guy popped out of the sunroof of all three cars, each packing an AK47. Other people in the cars packing Uzis and .45s sprayed lead at the 4-door sedan. Bullets riddled the trunk and rear end of Tommy's newly acquired Kuruma, and he still had no gun. He frantically looked for anything he could use as a weapon, but still to no avail. Suddenly he felt a hot, searing pain in his shoulder. He looked and saw his own blood painting the dashboard a crimson hue. He started to loose his cool, going into the attitude an animal goes into when frightened, running on pure adrenaline and fear. He looked back at the chasing cars, the whole time pushing the gas pedal down even more. Suddenly he felt a lurch, and his car was in mid-air, doing a barrel roll. The car landed on its rear end, flipping end over end and rolling over a few times before coming to a stop on its roof in the middle of the road. He crawled out, battered, bloodied, and bruised. The three cars skidded to a stop half a block away, and the men got out and walked towards him, guns in hand. He knew his life would be over in a few seconds, not feeling like the bad ass he had been just two days previous. Then a stream of fire flew from the bushes. Tommy's attackers were now being reduced to burnt nothingness. He looked up and saw the man with the flamethrower. It was none other than Joey Leone. "What the fuck are you doing here Leone?!" he yelled. "Would you rather I hadn't showed up?" Joey sarcastically replied. "Look, the way I see it, we're both in the same situation. No allies, no place to go, and no money. We have two choices, either we stay here and die from the late Toni's men, or us two trust each other and get on a plane to San Andreas. What's it gonna be?" Joey told Tommy. "What about all my property here?" was Vercetti's reply. "What is left of Toni's men will mop up the rest of your organization. In a few days, your empire will be nothing." Joey said, not even a hint of expression. "Well then, we better get the hell to Escobar International." Tommy answered, and a grin came over Joey's face. As the two men got into a beaten old Esperanto, he thought to himself, 'If this bastard doesn't try anything stupid, this could be the beginning of a great business partnership..."