Tommy limped out of the hospital hours later, every point on his body burned with pain. But he ignored it, he just kept thinking about how he had never heard of this silent ruler of Liberty City. Tommy's mind completely forgot about the Triads, the Diablos, the Leones and anyone else. His mind was concentrated on this new foe.

He sat down onto the seat of the stolen Patriot and started the car. He wasn't really sure where to go, he couldn't go back to his motel room, for all he knew his other guards were traitors as well. The only weapon Tommy had left was his switchblade, his guns had been taken when he was captured. He slowly brought the blade out of his pocket and flipped it open. The sunlight reflected off the blade with a beautiful glimmer, beautiful for someone as dead set on revenge as Tommy was that is.

He threw the car in reverse and headed towards and old friend's.

30 minutes later, Tommy pulled up in front of 8-Ball's bomb shop. He stopped the car and stepped out, he made his way to the back of the small building. He rapped on the rotting wood door three times and waited.

Seconds later, the door opened a crack and a bald black man peeked out of the crack. He was wearing a blue and white football jacket and black cargo pants. At the sight of Tommy he opened the door all the way and smiled.

"Well I'll be damned!" 8-Ball yelled. "Tommy Vercetti, standing on my fucking doorstep."

"Haha, nice to see you 8-Ball, been a long time huh?" Tommy replied casually.

"Damn right man, 15 years!" 8-Ball noticed Tommy's blood stained bandages and the stitches above his eye. "Shit man, what happened to you?"

"One of my men turned on me and decided to play baseball with my skull."

"That bastard, but knowing you he didn't make it out alive, right?" 8-Ball smiled slightly as he said this.

"Dead as Dillenger." Tommy replied, giving a smile of his own.

"Come inside man, have a drink." 8-Ball beckoned Tommy inside of the building.

Tommy walked inside and looked around. The room was a musty, dark, moldy room with old brown carpet and a small television with rusty rabbit ears on top of it. To the right of the door was a small kitchen with a dark green refrigerator. To the left of it was an old rusty stove with uncleaned pots resting on top of it.

"Nice place." Tommy said sarcastically.

"Thanks." 8-Ball replied, obviously not noting the sarcasm.

8-Ball walked over to the refrigerator and opened it, he reached inside and produced a bottle of Wild Turkey whiskey. He walked over to the sink and pulled out two glasses from it, Tommy found himself wondering if the glasses had been cleaned in the last six months.

8-Ball sat down as he handed Tommy a glass, Tommy sat down on an old couch in front of the television.

"So, how's business been lately?" Tommy asked.

"Business hasn't been all that good, not since Salvatore made the obituaries. But I don't mind too much, I hated that old man. Say, he died in Vice City, you wouldn't have had anything to do with that would you?" 8-Ball smiled.

Tommy laughed. "Yeah, I didn't want him around anymore. I thought I should move some of my operations up north, and he'd only get in the way."

"Your a trip man, you really are." 8-Ball downed his glass of whiskey in one gulp, Tommy took one sip of his.

"Listen, 8-Ball, I need some firepower, can you hook me up?" Tommy asked, setting his glass down on the small coffee table in front of him.

8-Ball suddenly began speaking faster, "Hell yeah I can hook you up, anything you need brother, machine-guns, uzis, 9s, explosives, anything!"

"I'm gonna need a few uzis, one machine gun, and a few pistols. How much will it run me?" Tommy asked as he sipped his whiskey again.

"$20,000 dollars and it's all yours. I'll even throw in some grenades for free." 8-Ball said as he stood up and walked into a room towards the back of the small building.

He returned with a small silver metal case. He carefully laid it down on the coffee table and opened it. Inside was a chrome colt .45. It was a beautiful gun.

"I'll take it." Tommy said flatly.

"I knew you'd like that one brother,but that ain't nothing compared to the other shit I got." 8-Ball went back into the back room and came out with more cases, in less than an hour Tommy had all the guns he wanted.

"I really appreciate this man, you have no idea how much I needed this." Tommy shook 8-Balls hand, and then turned around to go to his car. In the back seat were several gun cases stacked on top of each other, in the floorboards there were cases of ammo for each gun, and in a black metal case, were 10 grenades.

Tommy put the silver colt .45 in a shoulder holster, and then put his jacket on over it. He then started the car and backed out of 8-Ball's drive-way.

He headed back to Shoreside Vale.

Well here's the new chapter... Hoped you liked it. I apologize for the lack of action, and the long time it took me to update. I think my writing's gotten a little better since my last chapter, don't you think? But next chapter will have more action, I promise. I know that normally someone would be out of commision for weeks if they suffered injuries like Tommy's, but he's one bad mofo so he can take it right? BWahaha.... Anyways, enjoy...