The Anarchist
Chapter 2 - A Wake-Up Call
"Liberty City has been left reeling after the mysterious gunman came out of hiding yesterday to murder a journalist. Travis Winters, a writer for the Liberty Tree and a strong opposer of the gunman's recent actions was killed in cold blood last night at his office. CCTV footage clearly shows the act of murder and the both the gunman and Winters..."
"WHAT?" Vince was so astounded he couldn't contain the outburst. How the hell could this be true? The guy they were talking about was him! Vince continued to watch the news report, some grainy video clips were shown before the murder. Shit, the guy looked exactly like him! After his final act of venegance against Catalina, Vince decided to lay low in Shoreside Vale. He was letting the commotion settle before deciding on whether to follow leads in Liberty or whether to leave altogether. Now he didn't have a choice, he rose from the couch grabbed his jacket and hastily left the apartment.
***
He'd been sat by the subway station in Chinatown for a couple of hours now. Every five or six minutes more of Liberty's filth would wander out into the sunlight from the platform below. Darkel watched them all in contempt, he despised them . He pulled back his shirt sleeve to glance at his watch and smiled, just hours to go the little man thought...
***
For all the informers on the streets Vince had learned practically nothing about last night's events. The only thing he gleamed from them was that a mercenary had arrived in Liberty about a month ago, he couln't even get hold of the guy's name. Still clueless and a little deflated Vince wearily drove back to his apartment near Belleville Park. As he turned into the alley off 27th street Vince noticed a neighbouring window by the apartment was dimly lit. When he moved into the property all them months ago he was clever enough to secretly buy the rest of the block under different names. Whoever was up in the apartment that overlooked him had no reason to be there. Vince slowed the Banshee close to a halt and fixed his eyes on the window. Seconds ticked by. The drapes in the window started to twitch, instinctively Vince ducked beneath the dashboard. He heard the windscreen shatter above him. Damn, he was trapped. While squirming to the door on the passenger side he fumbled for a molotov cocktail in his jacket pocket. Luckily the shooter above hadn't thought to aim for the engine and then leave Vince to fry into the leather seating, maybe he wanted his death to go unnoticed. Vince slowly reached a sweaty hand over to the steering wheel, he groped for the right lever. Bingo! He slammed the lever forward and two beaming shafts of light from the headlights surged at the shooter. Vince sprung to his feet and from the Banshee hurled the cocktail at the window. Seconds later the bottle smashed and ignited t, cries of agony rose from inside and a figure ravaged in flames toppled out the open window into the rubbish below. Vince dashed over to the man and stamped the flames out, the sniper was barely alive and barely breathing. "Who are you?" Vince demanded. The only reply he received was heavy wheezing. Vince left the blistered man to die a slow death and made his way up to the charred apartment.
***
Darkel checked his watch again, only minutes to go now. The sun was slowly setting over Chinatown and left a crimson glare on the ornate rooftops of the market. Now it was only a matter of seconds. Sure enough a booming explosion resounded in the subway station below, a trail of flame pierced the station's entrance and rose into the street nearby. Darkel started the engine and quickly drove off.
***
Vince entered the empty apartment and surveyed the damage, luckily the flames had only licked the area near the window. A precision rifle rested on a tripod by the window and appeared to be quite undamaged. Vince averted his eyes to a coffee table, there was a Trade Fair magazine resting on the cheap wood. The front page was advertising a huge legal conference to be held at the AmCo builing in the Torrington area of Staunton Island. Guest speaker at the conference was to be the infamous ageing legal practioner Ken Rosenberg from Vice City. Vince took the magazine in interest from the table and left for his own aparment across the alleyway.
***
In no time at all the subway bombing sprung onto every local television channel in Liberty City. The incident was being blamed on the gunman as part of a revenge campaign against Liberty City, LoveMedia in particular was squaring blame on him. Their emergency broadcast was frequently interrupted by a solemn Donald Love stating "As a leading candidate to be mayor in this fine city I pledge to use all my powers to find the criminal responsible for these terrible acts of violence." Darkel watched all this and smiled again to himself, the seeds were being planted.
Chapter 2 - A Wake-Up Call
"Liberty City has been left reeling after the mysterious gunman came out of hiding yesterday to murder a journalist. Travis Winters, a writer for the Liberty Tree and a strong opposer of the gunman's recent actions was killed in cold blood last night at his office. CCTV footage clearly shows the act of murder and the both the gunman and Winters..."
"WHAT?" Vince was so astounded he couldn't contain the outburst. How the hell could this be true? The guy they were talking about was him! Vince continued to watch the news report, some grainy video clips were shown before the murder. Shit, the guy looked exactly like him! After his final act of venegance against Catalina, Vince decided to lay low in Shoreside Vale. He was letting the commotion settle before deciding on whether to follow leads in Liberty or whether to leave altogether. Now he didn't have a choice, he rose from the couch grabbed his jacket and hastily left the apartment.
***
He'd been sat by the subway station in Chinatown for a couple of hours now. Every five or six minutes more of Liberty's filth would wander out into the sunlight from the platform below. Darkel watched them all in contempt, he despised them . He pulled back his shirt sleeve to glance at his watch and smiled, just hours to go the little man thought...
***
For all the informers on the streets Vince had learned practically nothing about last night's events. The only thing he gleamed from them was that a mercenary had arrived in Liberty about a month ago, he couln't even get hold of the guy's name. Still clueless and a little deflated Vince wearily drove back to his apartment near Belleville Park. As he turned into the alley off 27th street Vince noticed a neighbouring window by the apartment was dimly lit. When he moved into the property all them months ago he was clever enough to secretly buy the rest of the block under different names. Whoever was up in the apartment that overlooked him had no reason to be there. Vince slowed the Banshee close to a halt and fixed his eyes on the window. Seconds ticked by. The drapes in the window started to twitch, instinctively Vince ducked beneath the dashboard. He heard the windscreen shatter above him. Damn, he was trapped. While squirming to the door on the passenger side he fumbled for a molotov cocktail in his jacket pocket. Luckily the shooter above hadn't thought to aim for the engine and then leave Vince to fry into the leather seating, maybe he wanted his death to go unnoticed. Vince slowly reached a sweaty hand over to the steering wheel, he groped for the right lever. Bingo! He slammed the lever forward and two beaming shafts of light from the headlights surged at the shooter. Vince sprung to his feet and from the Banshee hurled the cocktail at the window. Seconds later the bottle smashed and ignited t, cries of agony rose from inside and a figure ravaged in flames toppled out the open window into the rubbish below. Vince dashed over to the man and stamped the flames out, the sniper was barely alive and barely breathing. "Who are you?" Vince demanded. The only reply he received was heavy wheezing. Vince left the blistered man to die a slow death and made his way up to the charred apartment.
***
Darkel checked his watch again, only minutes to go now. The sun was slowly setting over Chinatown and left a crimson glare on the ornate rooftops of the market. Now it was only a matter of seconds. Sure enough a booming explosion resounded in the subway station below, a trail of flame pierced the station's entrance and rose into the street nearby. Darkel started the engine and quickly drove off.
***
Vince entered the empty apartment and surveyed the damage, luckily the flames had only licked the area near the window. A precision rifle rested on a tripod by the window and appeared to be quite undamaged. Vince averted his eyes to a coffee table, there was a Trade Fair magazine resting on the cheap wood. The front page was advertising a huge legal conference to be held at the AmCo builing in the Torrington area of Staunton Island. Guest speaker at the conference was to be the infamous ageing legal practioner Ken Rosenberg from Vice City. Vince took the magazine in interest from the table and left for his own aparment across the alleyway.
***
In no time at all the subway bombing sprung onto every local television channel in Liberty City. The incident was being blamed on the gunman as part of a revenge campaign against Liberty City, LoveMedia in particular was squaring blame on him. Their emergency broadcast was frequently interrupted by a solemn Donald Love stating "As a leading candidate to be mayor in this fine city I pledge to use all my powers to find the criminal responsible for these terrible acts of violence." Darkel watched all this and smiled again to himself, the seeds were being planted.