Grand
Theft Auto: Vice City
Clerical Work
Clerical Work
Authour's Notes: Welcome back to the
world of Vice City. Now, let's get on with it. You know most of the
backstory here. We open up with Tommy Vercetti having just purchased
1102 Washington Street, and innocent looking apartment building. He has
no idea what he has gotten himself into...
Mission
I - 'Word of Mouth'
The camera fades in on Tommy Vercetti
striding grandly into the main lobby of 1102 Washington Street, having
just purchased the apartment building slash hotel for a meager $3,000.
An old woman, looking as if she was nearing her Nineties, hobbles up to
Tommy on a cane, followed by a much more attractive young woman
carrying a clipboard. Tommy motions for his lone bodyguard to stand
guard at the front door.
The old woman approaches Tommy. "Hey! You, son! You a payin' tenant! If you don't pay I suggest you get outta here right now young man," says the woman defiantly, pulling a concealed Colt .45 from the folds of her clothing. The young woman behind her simply rolls her eyes.
"Whoa, whoa. Back off Grandma. I own the damned place now," announces Tommy, looming over the old woman.
"Oh, ho ho ho!" She returns the handgun to it's holster. "In that case, I'm Cassandra Vegas, Ms. Vegas to you, owner of this here place for 14 years." Tommy looks around admirably. "This here is my grand-daughter Alexa."
The young woman smiles rather sarcastically at Tommy, getting a nonchalant wink in return.
Ms. Vegas has started off across the lobby to a frosted-glass windowed office. "Ah, come on boy! You're just the kinda guy I need!"
Tommy begins walking after Ms. Vegas. "I hope she didn't mean that in the way I thought she meant that," says Tommy.
"Oh, with Nana I can never tell myself," says Alexa with a smile.
"Sounds like a great person to work for."
Alexa and Tommy enter the office. The door shuts with a click.
"Here, here, have a seat," says Ms. Vegas, motioning to a chair in front of the desk she is sitting at. Tommy declines.
"I said have a Goddamned seat!"
Tommy quickly takes to a chair. He strangely notes that the rooms smells like Rosenberg's office.
"Al'right Tommy. We've had less and less people comin' in every month since a few while back. Now, I reckon it's to blame of this prick who works on the radio, Jonathan Free-somethin', I dunno. Now anyway, I need you to go over ta' where he lives, over on Starfish Island, and scare the BEJESUS outta him! OK, so I want 'cha to get two cars and blow 'em up right out side his fancy-ass mansion--"
Alexa interrupts. "Nana!"
"What did I tell you about interrupttin' me!? Anyway, sorry 'bout her Tommo, she's a crazy bitch."
Alexa simply rolls her eyes yet again and makes a note on her clipboard.
"Anyway, yes, get two cars from his neighbours houses and blow 'em up right outside-a his house. And leave this on his door." Ms. Vegas hands Tommy a slip on paper. "He won't mess with us again."
Tommy exits the office, taking one last confused glance at the crazy old woman going through a fit of maniacal laughter behind him.
"Crazy grandma. Wonder what she's smokin'," he mutters.
The old woman approaches Tommy. "Hey! You, son! You a payin' tenant! If you don't pay I suggest you get outta here right now young man," says the woman defiantly, pulling a concealed Colt .45 from the folds of her clothing. The young woman behind her simply rolls her eyes.
"Whoa, whoa. Back off Grandma. I own the damned place now," announces Tommy, looming over the old woman.
"Oh, ho ho ho!" She returns the handgun to it's holster. "In that case, I'm Cassandra Vegas, Ms. Vegas to you, owner of this here place for 14 years." Tommy looks around admirably. "This here is my grand-daughter Alexa."
The young woman smiles rather sarcastically at Tommy, getting a nonchalant wink in return.
Ms. Vegas has started off across the lobby to a frosted-glass windowed office. "Ah, come on boy! You're just the kinda guy I need!"
Tommy begins walking after Ms. Vegas. "I hope she didn't mean that in the way I thought she meant that," says Tommy.
"Oh, with Nana I can never tell myself," says Alexa with a smile.
"Sounds like a great person to work for."
Alexa and Tommy enter the office. The door shuts with a click.
"Here, here, have a seat," says Ms. Vegas, motioning to a chair in front of the desk she is sitting at. Tommy declines.
"I said have a Goddamned seat!"
Tommy quickly takes to a chair. He strangely notes that the rooms smells like Rosenberg's office.
"Al'right Tommy. We've had less and less people comin' in every month since a few while back. Now, I reckon it's to blame of this prick who works on the radio, Jonathan Free-somethin', I dunno. Now anyway, I need you to go over ta' where he lives, over on Starfish Island, and scare the BEJESUS outta him! OK, so I want 'cha to get two cars and blow 'em up right out side his fancy-ass mansion--"
Alexa interrupts. "Nana!"
"What did I tell you about interrupttin' me!? Anyway, sorry 'bout her Tommo, she's a crazy bitch."
Alexa simply rolls her eyes yet again and makes a note on her clipboard.
"Anyway, yes, get two cars from his neighbours houses and blow 'em up right outside-a his house. And leave this on his door." Ms. Vegas hands Tommy a slip on paper. "He won't mess with us again."
Tommy exits the office, taking one last confused glance at the crazy old woman going through a fit of maniacal laughter behind him.
"Crazy grandma. Wonder what she's smokin'," he mutters.
The cars are easy for Tommy to find. A
nice Infernus and a stylish
Comet, both parked outside of Freeloader's front door.
"Ah, yes, now for the fun part." Tommy pulls a concealed SPAS .12 shotgun out and points it at the gasoline tank of the Infernus. "Wake up call, Mister Freeloader!" With one shot of the SPAS, the gas tank is punctured and the Infernus goes up in a plume of spiraling fire.
A security officer spots Tommy. "Hey! You!" The officer starts towards Tommy, but is thrown backwards by the force of the Comet exploding. Tommy puts the SPAS away and strides over to Freeloaders front door, taking out a hammer and nail to tack the note to the door. Once the nail is in place, the hammer comes back, the door opens, Freeloader appears in the doorway, and, with a sickening crack, the hammer makes contact with Freeloader's skull. The radio personality drops to the the floor, unconscious.
Tommy laughs. "Sorry Jon, I couldn't resist."
The sound of a shotgun being cocked behind Tommys head.
"Vice! Freeze!" booms a voice from behind.
"Damn F.B.I."
Tommy drops his weapon and begins to turn around.
The sound of rotor blades. Prop wash blinds the F.B.I. agents. The sound of an assault rifle. Seconds later the F.B.I. agents are on the ground, face down, dead. A man with a black suit and combed-over hair in the helicopter signals for Tommy as he pulls a rocket launcher from somewhere in the chopper. Tommy nod's and dashes over, taking hold of the struts and pulling himself in. The man fires a rocket into the F.B.I.'s Cheetah, which disappears instantly into flame. The helicopter gains altitude and pulls away from Starfish Island.
The man sighs and takes a seat. "Yes, yes, sit." He speaks with a deep Italian accent.
"What the Hell was that? Who the Hell are you?" inquires Tommy, right off the bat.
"Slow down, son. The name is Roberto Combelli. The rest will come in time." Combelli looks out the window to see the multicoloured spire of 1102 Washington Street approaching. "This is your stop, yes?"
Tommy nods in bewilderment.
"Put it down, Hans. Our man needs to get off."
The chopper lands softly directly in the middle of Washington Street. A woman in a red Hermes screams, "Get that shit out the sidewalk!"
Tommy hops from the helicopter and makes his way off towards 1102. Combelli shouts from behind him, "Screw you, crazy bitch!"
The sound of rotor blades picks up again. Combelli: "Nice meeting you, Thomas!"
"Can't say the same for you," says Tommy with a laugh as he walks into the building.
"Ah, yes, now for the fun part." Tommy pulls a concealed SPAS .12 shotgun out and points it at the gasoline tank of the Infernus. "Wake up call, Mister Freeloader!" With one shot of the SPAS, the gas tank is punctured and the Infernus goes up in a plume of spiraling fire.
A security officer spots Tommy. "Hey! You!" The officer starts towards Tommy, but is thrown backwards by the force of the Comet exploding. Tommy puts the SPAS away and strides over to Freeloaders front door, taking out a hammer and nail to tack the note to the door. Once the nail is in place, the hammer comes back, the door opens, Freeloader appears in the doorway, and, with a sickening crack, the hammer makes contact with Freeloader's skull. The radio personality drops to the the floor, unconscious.
Tommy laughs. "Sorry Jon, I couldn't resist."
The sound of a shotgun being cocked behind Tommys head.
"Vice! Freeze!" booms a voice from behind.
"Damn F.B.I."
Tommy drops his weapon and begins to turn around.
The sound of rotor blades. Prop wash blinds the F.B.I. agents. The sound of an assault rifle. Seconds later the F.B.I. agents are on the ground, face down, dead. A man with a black suit and combed-over hair in the helicopter signals for Tommy as he pulls a rocket launcher from somewhere in the chopper. Tommy nod's and dashes over, taking hold of the struts and pulling himself in. The man fires a rocket into the F.B.I.'s Cheetah, which disappears instantly into flame. The helicopter gains altitude and pulls away from Starfish Island.
The man sighs and takes a seat. "Yes, yes, sit." He speaks with a deep Italian accent.
"What the Hell was that? Who the Hell are you?" inquires Tommy, right off the bat.
"Slow down, son. The name is Roberto Combelli. The rest will come in time." Combelli looks out the window to see the multicoloured spire of 1102 Washington Street approaching. "This is your stop, yes?"
Tommy nods in bewilderment.
"Put it down, Hans. Our man needs to get off."
The chopper lands softly directly in the middle of Washington Street. A woman in a red Hermes screams, "Get that shit out the sidewalk!"
Tommy hops from the helicopter and makes his way off towards 1102. Combelli shouts from behind him, "Screw you, crazy bitch!"
The sound of rotor blades picks up again. Combelli: "Nice meeting you, Thomas!"
"Can't say the same for you," says Tommy with a laugh as he walks into the building.
Mission
Complete!