Disclaimer: I DON'T OWN GRAND THEFT AUTO!!!
Hard Knock Life
Liberty City
This story is through the eyes of a young, prominent female detective working the greatest urban disaster ever, taking hardened criminals off Liberty's streets. Well, read and review!
BTW: !!!!! represents flashback
Chapter 1: Night Shift
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I round another corner; following the guy I just witnessed committing grand theft auto. Even though I am a detective, not a cop, I can still arrest him.
He is still in front of me sprinting, man, is he fast! It feels like I've been chasing him for ages. Turning into a deserted alley, he hurtles over stacks of boxes and around dumpsters as though he is fully equipped to this environment. I dodge some clueless pedestrians (a Triad and grandma) still out roaming in the night, into the dark passage after the punk.
The street lights overhead gave little light in the indistinct, humid night air, I almost lost the creep when he climbed over a fence and bolted behind more buildings. The light of a neon glowing EXIT sign reflected off his black leather jacket for a split second catching my eye. Heaving myself over the fence I get within yards of the man. He turns around, giving me a quick smirk before bolting into the shadows ahead.
The felon almost looks familiar... Where have I seen the black shirt, leather jacket, baggy green cargo pants, and 5 'o clock shadow before…? The man has dark, spiky black hair and tenebrous, cold eyes too... His heavy leather coat and baggy pants didn't seem to slow him down at all, even with all the ammo and guns I'm sure he's packing. In Liberty, unfortunately everyone carries guns. With more and more law enforcers turning to darker ways for making money fast, citizens feel the need to protect themselves from the ever growing gangs and corrupt individuals in this city an even higher priority then ever. I just want things to be like they used to be, before the demonic scum rose up out of the shadowy corners and took this city over.
Maybe my last thought got my adrenaline pumping, or maybe it was the man's little 'You-and-I-both-know-I'll-be-back-on-the-streets-tomorrow-night' glint in his eye that made me really want to see him behind bars. I am not going to give him another free night for reckless vandalism on my watch.
He tears around the corner of a building; I follow, running around the same corner. He flies past two chained rotweilers causing them to pull at their chains and bark ferociously. The unlighted, humid night air blows some paper at my face, but I manage to dodge it. A heavy downpour would be coming soon. My hair started coming out of the brown pony tail holder, but I ignore it.
The silent man darts further between the endless brick walls trying to shake me. It amazes me how agile he is in the cluttered alley, it almost seems superhuman the way he maneuvers. Man, I wish we had a guy like that on our side for a change… Maybe we'd actually catch some criminals for once and turn our reputation around.
We reached the back of a rundown warehouse with a dim yellow light coming from inside. Geez, I was getting out of breath. I could hear my breath louder by the minute. Leaping over a small fence, I realize how little sound the man makes. I create lots of noise running over crates and tipping over trashcans (like I said, it's really dark when you get deep into the alley labyrinths on Staunton Island), unlike him. I tried to maintain a steady gaze on the back of his coat, now a few yards ahead of me. If I lost him now, I wouldn't catch up or be able to listen for his footsteps in the still night air.
He swiftly dodges into an alcove I don't even notice. This takes me by surprise, but I cautiously follow him, sprinting through it. I round the corner, just to discover he stopped running!
I nearly yelp and fall over, but getting a hold of myself, I stop a few yards from him. The brown haired man stands glaring at me, just eyeing my every movement, not even out of breath! Through the thick musty air, I could now tell he's pretty tall and muscularly broad; probably around 6'1. I on the other hand am about 5'6.
I try angrily catching my breath; this is NOT how I wanted to spend my night! Criminals like this cocky punk that think they can get away with anything really make me annoyed. He patiently crosses his arms waiting for me to make my next move, a smug look crossing his features.
My dark, thick wavy hair is completely out now. It must have come out in all the running.
I slowly put it back up again as best I can. I didn't want to make any sudden movements for some reason… I didn't want him to bolt off further down the grubby, smoky passageway. His features are pretty unreadable in the flickering light. The moon was well hidden behind the overcast storm clouds.
I bet he is annoyed or angry that I have been following him. Or amused perhaps? That would make me more hot-headed then I'm already feeling.
We meet eyes for the first time.
"…Oh my gosh," I start. "You're him! The most wanted felon in Liberty City…. Iceman right? Or the Reaper…?" I shake my head. This cannot be happening!
Why didn't I realize it before? He is well known all over this city. I've heard horrible stories about him… This punk is single handedly bringing this city to its knees killing many gang figureheads and slaughtering countless people on his impenetrable rampages and in his incompetent, selfish, personal battles—or so I've heard. Whatever. He's still going downtown.
"You just figured that out?" He smirks and regards me. This I didn't unexpect. He is well known for not talking…
"Well, I wouldn't expect a fed to chase me for so long if they knew, I guess…" He continues slowly. A large crack of thunder followed by lightning appears overhead; I can tell the rain would come any minute. The lightning flashes again illuminating his face for a split second. He wasn't exactly cute, but he is a kind of a rugged hansom—possible without the cryptic smirk.
"I just was expecting the Reaper to have… Well…" I study him closely trailing off, he raises an eyebrow.
"Horns and a tail?"
"YES! Exactly! After all you've done! I mean are—you—crazy?!" I made large hand gestures. This guy was the spawn of Satan! For some reason I wasn't scared right now, just really agitated at being in the middle of an old dark alcove between some leaking buildings smelling like car exhaust.
"…I mean are your pants on too tight cutting off the circulation to your brain!? You've killed half the police force, countless gang members, who knows how many innocent pedestrians" I counted these off in my head, like I've been reciting it many times for the moment I came face to face with the guy from your nightmares.
I was getting way ahead of myself and stopped. Focus Mia! C'mon!
"There are plenty of people that would love to chase you down to see you behind bars." I said straightening up. A stray raindrop rolls down my cheek.
He doesn't say a word. We don't separate eyes. He pulls out a cigarette, lights it, and tosses the lighter aside before continuing.
"…Lets just say by some act of God, the pigs in blue manage to take me down—and it won't be in a situation like this." He states this firmly and darkly.
"There are ways of seeing the outside light again. Nowadays, the crooked cops in this city will do anything for a spare hundred grand or two… Trust me, I know…" The clouds let out a heavy sheet of rain, drenching everything in the alleyway all of a sudden. 'Great.' I look down at my white blouse and black pants.Smiling, the man continues slowly.
"LCPD is losing men and influence in the city everyday. You think these new punks on the job actually care about the law or the innocent?" He laughs at this. Innocent in Liberty city… Yeah right. It is a laughing matter.
"You might work your heart out one night in the freezing rain to put a criminal like me behind bars, but you know what sweetie?" He receives an unfavorable glare from me.
"He'll be back on the outside the next day, roaming the streets for his next victim. You know why?" Why am I listening to this freak!? "Because we don't sit around enforcing the rules—we make them. We have all the influence over the judges, cops, witnesses—everyone—in this city. You and I both know that…" He examines my reaction. I blink out of disbelief. I wish he'd stop talking. I focus on the soggy, blurry warehouse behind him with unseeing eyes.
"That's not true!" I breathe malignly
"…You know…" I continue more quietly. "I didn't sign up for this job to enforce a bland black and white set of rules"—pause— "I mean… C'mon! I probably don't even know half of them…" I wipe some dripping hair falling into my face aside.
Shaking head; "No, no… growing up… I remember moving to this city… I remember lying in my bed at night not knowing if my dad would come home safely from work. I watched as the local stores I grew up going to became vandalized more and more every year by people I thought I could trust. I remember my best friend being mugged on the way home from school one day, so, out of fear, we had to be with an adult at all times whenever we stepped foot outside.
I watched as my classmates all dropped out of school to become drug addicts one by one. I remember my brother telling me it would all be alright, only to discover he had joined a gang himself—" I take a deep breath and meet his deep eyes.
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"When I was 13, three people were shot and killed on the pavement right in front of me. Things only went downhill from there…Do you have any idea what that does to you when you are that young?!" I could feel my face heating up as though the sun had burst through the sheets of rain all of a sudden. I continued on in the steadily increasing rain;
"I became a detective because I didn't want to see that happen to anyone else because of greedy monsters like you!" I got taken aback. I finished the last part without thinking. My lip quivered a little and my eyes became watery, but only for a brief unnoticeable second in the rain. Don't forget who you're talking to, Mia! I ran a hand to brush the water off my face. There was a short pause.
He flicked his cigarette aside which was going out anyway due to the on pour.
"That's really touching." He smirks sarcastically. I didn't feel like being around this villain anymore. I hit a really personal note there…Shivering in the rain; I dared this guy to continue.
"It's getting easier everyday for me to do my job." He finishes warmly with a diabolical smile. He looks up into the oncoming rain in the night.
I glare at him. "Your job…? Right… I'm sure it's very exhausting… Selling SPANK and planting cherry bombs at the local mall must be very challenging for someone like you." My words obscured in the noise of rain. He just stood there arms crossed, regarding me. I produced a pair of handcuffs from my jacket. The rain started to fall harder. My hair stuck like a mat to my face.
"This is going to end now! I'm taking you downtown!" I yell over the rain.
I take a step toward him when—he laughs. He laughs! You do not laugh when going to jail! His take on dark twisted humor sent a chill up my spine. Looking at him standing in the rain no more then 10 feet away from me laughing made my insides churn. It was eerie really… I started to believe the almost supernatural, inhuman, hair-raising stories I've heard about him...
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7: 50 AM: Taking a seat on the subway to work, I stare at a man in a dark trench coat reading an article in the Liberty Tree featuring the 'Lone Gunman' on the front cover. The man takes an empty seat across from me, reading intently. An elderly black woman sits next to him and begins rambling:
"yup…'dat 'dar Leather Jacket man took out 20 or so of 'em Cartel members last weekend. Saw it 'wit my own two eyes I did…Carries unlimited amounts 'a guns I've 'eard—can shoot a fly 50 feet away blindfolded—or so I've been told—" A few neighboring women and children shudder at the name. I try focusing my attention back on the window.
The woman points accusingly at a neighboring cop and me. "I thought you were gonna take care 'a 'dis guy! I ain't lettin' my cat Puddins outside till he's dealt wit. If I ever meet him…Ooooh lordy, I'd teach him some respect I would…"
Two smelly Jamaican men shuffle through the crowded apartment and take seats behind me. "…Ya 'mon… King Courtney 'don like 'dis fellow… Says 'E gets nervous jus' bein' beside 'em. Says 'E gonna make 'dis Iceman pay…" I turn around abruptly at the name. The shaken men give me icy looks causing me to turn back around slowly. The bald man in the trench coat begins asking the officer bold questions about the gunman. "I thought you already got him off the streets…What happened?! I would like to think you'd try to stop this guy at some point before he has another target practice on a crowded street with children…Do you just sit around all day waiting for him to strike first---?"
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A cold, wet chill snapped me back into the narrow alley.
I hope the chill is from the water droplets soaking through my thin blouse, not this twisted kid's taunting laugh... Kid…Ha… I must sound like a grandmother rambling on when really I'm just 24.
"Yeah—Alright… You're coming with me" I yell unamusedly over the rain. This time a little less certainty is in my voice... but anything to make him stop!
The laughter subsides finally and he became lethally silent. The mood changes. The air between us seems to tense up and the rain fades into the background. His face contorts and his trademark cold glare meets me and, let me tell you, it seems to reach inside you to sucks the life right out. There is a pause.
"No, you're coming with me." He says languidly with a malevolent smile.
My dark eyes became wide and I became silent and still. Suddenly, an icy rush of fear pumps through my veins. 'Maybe he was right… I should have sat this one out…'
He began lazily walking toward me through the sheets of precipitation. This is getting scary… In the night air it was hard to see his dark leather outline, unlike my white blouse that sticks out like a sore thumb in the murky, damp alley. The rain obscures my vision a little bit; it's also hard to think with it pattering down hard on the surrounding unused crates, walls, and all over my face. I still had my small .45 gun issued to me I only use in emergencies on my belt. I reach for it slowly as to not draw Iceman's attention. The Reaper closely follows my hand and smirks. An empty leather case meets my grasp.
I clench my teeth. 'No…please. Come on!' Immediately, my eyes drop to the ground. It must have fallen out! Frantically I look every way around crates and things for my gun. I splash through puddles but to no prevail. The Reaper had a distinctive walk to him I notice, being within feet now.
I do not like fighting, nor do I really know how—but self-defense I can do. This is the main reason I decided to become a detective, not a cop; more thinking and problem solving then the actual fighting of the crime. His cold, piercing glare gave way to a regarding smirk momentarily as I straightened up, and raised my fists. He must know something I don't (like what his next move would be..?) I tense up and take a step backward.
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'Alright Mia, feet shoulder length apart… Look for your opponent's weakness…' What did that crazy Japanese dojo say?!?I quickly start running through what I should do in my head. My body was not cooperating, but turning to Jell-O as I face him. He was so close I could almost see the raindrops gleaming in his hair.
Mia think! '11th grade health class… Women's self defense class…The academy…' What did they say to do...? 'Know where the enemy's hands are at all times, keep your fists up, turn sideways slightly, suck in when absorbing blows, keep your head up always, connect with the man's sweet spot with a well placed power kick'—Forgetit all! I brace myself and lunge at him with all my force. His back meets the watery pavement hard. This is as much of a surprise to him as it is to me! My frustration takes him by shock. Breathing hard and soaking wet I try grabbing the collar of his leather jacket forcing him to the ground.
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"Hold still!" We struggle for a few seconds. My hands couldn't grip his slippery wet leather jacket. He rolls on top of me, but I knee him hard pinning him back down. I put my hands to his neck, but he grabs my wrist. "Arrhhhhh!" I struggle out of his grasp and try kneeing—kicking—punching him blindly. With one last burst of energy, I wrestle him down completely. I grab his collar and shake it as a means of somehow controlling him.
His arms try reaching up, but I roughly grab them and force them to his sides. I have a leg on either side now, so I am straddling him. I expect him to kick up again, but he stays still. I glower at him, catching my breath. His face is illuminated by the light reflecting from the raindrops. This felt a little awkward if you think about it. The most wanted criminal on record at the Liberty City precinct right between your legs—
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"So what are you gonna' do now baby? Take me in? Make sure I never see the light of day this time?" He sweetly says struggling for more air. I just stare at him, looking for any trace of humanity still left. Being this close, I realize he is just human—and pretty hansom—in a sinful way I suppose... His piercing eyes hide something deeper about him though. I wonder how many people have been so close to him to realize his eyes actually are a kind of almost shocking silvery-grey. A strand of hair goes into my eyes from my hair that is out loose again taking me out of my thoughts.
Reaching for the cuffs, I realize it almost seems like he let me pin him down. I knew he could overpower me probably… It made a tingle go up my spine just thinking about it.
"You know it won't do any good dragging me to the station." Quietly he informs me. His icy eyes send a shiver up my spine again. He must have felt it too, because he smiled nefariously at me, yet warmly at the same time…
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That didn't make me hesitate for a second. He smirks at me, I boldly choose to ignore it.
"You really are pathetic..." I hear him mutter. I almost have his hands where I need them—
WHAM! I feel wet pavement on my back again. His weight now completely on me, I glare at him shocked. Immediately, my instinct is to knee—kick—
"Get offa' me!!!" I yell hysterically. "Urgh!" I struggle under him for minutes. He seems to be enjoying this. He wrestles me tighter to the ground—I try to push him off me, but I just can't.
The real seriousness of the situation hit me like a brick. I stopped struggling against him suddenly. For the first time, I felt really scared. I couldn't get out from under him.
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I breathe really hard, trying to hide the fact that I am petrified. He could read me like a book at this point...
There is a short pause. My hair had basically come out again, like a spider over the soaked pavement. He holds my shoulders down to the pavement. It is no use struggling against him.
He regards me for a second then finally begins to speak:
"How did a girl like you end up working for the feds anyway?" I look up at him for a few seconds. I don't know exactly what to answer in my position.
"You're fighting a losing battle." He whispers right into my ear leaning very close. I can almost feel his lips brush against my ear. It sent a shiver up my spine. He could sense it too I thought, fueling the moment.
"All I need to do is bribe a cop a few grand, maybe even a million dollars once at the slammer… It's more then they'd make in a lousy year of work—and I'll be back on the streets by tomorrow night." He says to me almost warmly. I try pushing him away from me again.
Iceman smirks and continues, gently forcing me to face him. "So how much will it take?"
What? I avoided his cold, grey eyes until this point— "Right now I have about 600 grand on me… It's the most I can give you at this point." He smiles; some water running down his forehead dripping onto me.
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"You could buy yourself a nice, shiny new car with the money…Or some earrings..? You could donate it to the Liberty City Cocks for all I care. We can just pretend this whole thing never happened." He leans back and reaches into a pocket, leaving me to gaze up at the falling rain. Maybe I should just take the money…
"No…" I manage weekly.
"What?" he hisses narrowing his eyes.
I shake my head quietly answering; "I don't want your money…"
He leans back over, contemplation me. I battle tears I feel swelling in my eyes. I never wanted any of them to ever see me cry. I promised myself that... He didn't move and we met eyes. Anger and fear floods through my body for beginning to show weakness... You need to be strong now!
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"I don't EVER want any of your filthy money—" I kick him again, but his mind seems distant, only half-processing my ineffectual escape attempts. It's like nobody ever said 'no' to him before…
He forces a kind of sleeper hold on me suddenly, causing my struggling efforts to cease. Slowly, he runs a finger to brush a strand of hair that went in my face.
I manage to break away from those grey eyes to look at something—anything else. My breathe became unsteadily. He was right though; the gangs in this city did run everything...
Then he did something I was not expecting him to do. He gets off of me and stands up.
I keep staring at him, slowly leaning onto my elbows. I am a little puzzled right now…What would he do next and why did he get up...?
What was with this guy..? He smiles slightly and my heart races. I became annoyed again at his dopey grin.
"... Trust me..." he continued with a now lit cigarette and in his mouth. He sounded really smooth and almost seductive. Giving me a once-over and taking a long drag, he reaches casually into his deep coat pockets. He pulled out something I'd fear he'd pull out—a gun. My gun! I froze. No! How is that possible?! This is it. I was too shocked to do anything but stare. He examined the small firearm briefly, turning it over and rubbing his hands over the smooth handle before cracking the small cartridge open;
"—You and the rest of the feds will crack sometime soon, one...by...one."
As he said 'one-by-one' he extracts the bullets out and let each one hit the ground one—by—one.
They each hit the pavement with a 'clink' in slow motion it seemed like, through the rain. I hung on to his words.
"Now I have some business that needs taking care of." He quickly snapped the cartridge shut with a whip of his hand and tossed the empty weapon back into my lap.
"See 'ya around, babe." He gave me one last smirk, and then backed into the shadows out of my view.
The rain seemed to slow down in the night. This man lived in the shadows of the night. This was his environment and time, not mine… My eyes lingered on the shadows he just vanished into, before standing up quickly. I tucked the empty gun back into my belt.
The rain slowed, but waterfalls were still pouring down the brick walls from the storm gutters. He had won tonight... He got away... Yet another one…
There was little light save for one flickering street light a few hundred feet away.
I had no real idea where he is at this point—or where I am for that matter. The damp, alley stretched very far, with only a single unfamiliar glowing Chinese sign as a means of telling me where I was.
I think about all the things that could have happened, and all the ways this night could have ended. I wring some water from my clothes…Will he ever be stopped? No no no... I thought looking around. No use trying to find him now. We'll meet again… I concluded inspecting the large foreign crates around me, relief now rushing through my veins. I really hope someone brings that punk to justice—now more then ever.
I catch myself smiling slightly; my old attitude flooding back filling me with a warm sense of hope. I definitely was not expecting to have a run-in with the Reaper, Ghost, Leather Jacket, or whatever they call him to end how it did… I didn't expect him to be about my age and kind of cute either—as far as psychotic hitmen go—
The shower of rain almost seemed refreshing now. A loud BEEP rips me out of my thoughts... My smile faded and I shake my head. It's going to be a long night.
The walky-talky strapped to my belt flashed.
"Oh yeah, I—"
"Detective M. Cherish—are you Ok? Is everything alright!?" A feminine voice bellows. My head was still spinning a little bit.
"...Ahhhhm Yeah, I'm fine… Sorry I didn't call in." I say rubbing my head.
Now to find a way out of this labyrinth of dark alleys… I'll admit, it feels very eerie being back here all alone…
Half an hour later, while walking groggily past another looming, ruined, abandoned factory, the hair on the back of my next pricked up. The feeling of being watched quickly advert my eyes toward the fire escapes above. Silence… Rickety, empty metal landings are that met my surveying eyes. I have been led on a really long chase—it's getting to my head. It seems like he knew exactly where he was going. Maybe the guy is still around…
Dismissing the idea, I quicken my pace. I just need to find a main road and get out of the back alleys. Being alone anywhere in Liberty City at night is never a good idea.
Later that night, I eventually found a main road safely, Ceder St., and an officer to give me a ride back to the downtown precinct—Officer Sid McAfferey. I sunk into the leather interior of the cop car closing my eyes. The rain began beating on the windshield soothingly. The police officer hands me a towel to dry off with.
Pulling to a stop at an intersection, I stare out the window at some nearby prostitutes and pedestrians running for cover from the oncoming rain. It dawned on me; was I the lucky one tonight? I look down at my ruined shoes. Not really... But things could have ended much, much differently then they did…
I recollected on what the Reaper had said; "…All I need to do is bribe a cop a few grand, maybe even a million dollars, and I'll be back on the street tomorrow night…" I look over at the light brown haired man driving me.
'Naaaaa.....'
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A/N: Well, there you have it! My first chapter re-make. Hope you all enjoyed it as much as I did making it.
I finally got around to re-doing this whole chapter, mainly because the first paragraph nightmare needed to be fixed! I really like how this turned out…Thanks soooo much to all who reviewed, you guys are so wonderfully thoughtful! Really, tell me what you think! I'll try to get back to you the next chapter I write hopefully soon. Oh, and I now finally have my profile page up too. Yay!
Thanks so much! Please review!! ; )
SmilesK ; P