CHAPTER 5—Welcome to Ross Island
Since they were packing C4, it was impossible for Jason and his boys to travel by plane. (Also, Ross Island had no airport.) Therefore, they traveled by train and car out to California. When they arrived there two days after leaving Vice City, Jason pulled out his cell and clicked it open. The phone rang, and then Taira's voice came through. "Can't meet you tomorrow, babe," Jason said, "got shipped out to Ross Island for a little bit. Good luck with your husband."
"Thanks, sexy," Mrs. Lopez returned, "I'll be waiting for you."
Jason clicked off the phone and returned it to his pocket. As they carried their bags out onto the California dock, a man wearing a white T-shirt and tight jeans walked up to them and said, "You Tommy's boys?"
"We're them," Jason said.
"I'm the guy with the boat. Call me Chiqo." It was obvious this man was Cuban. He had probably been hired by Tommy from the Cuban gang to escort them to Ross Island. There was no airport on Ross, only a harbor, so the only way to reach the island was by boat. The four men piled into Chiqo's cloud-white Rio and the Cuban threw the boat into drive, smoothly exiting from the California harbor.
"We'll be at the island in about three hours!" Chiqo said to them as he made his way onto the open Pacific Ocean and towards their destination. "Ain't too far off the coat, but if we had a faster boat..."
Their answer came all too soon. Two Squallos, the fastest boats in the US, came driving up alongside them. There was a Haitian driving each one, along with two gunmen per boat. They weren't far from shore, but too far already to swim back. They had to stand and fight.
"We know what you're doing, Chiqo!" one Haitian called. "And Poulet doesn't want you interfering with our plans on Ross Island!"
"Get down!" Jason yelled. As the four of them hit the floor, bullets began to fly over their heads. The reports were nearly deafening, but since they were trapped on both sides, little could be done about it. "Any ideas, Skinner?" Jason ventured.
"Not a clue. Maybe something we picked up from Phil's?"
"Rocket launchers?" Mario asked.
"No, grenades!" Jason answered. He yanked the bag open, slipped a green object into his hands, and took aim. Seconds later, he pulled the pin, tossed the object, and returned to the floor. The loud bang! obviously caught the gunners by surprise. Jason watched one fall into the water and quickly get left behind, while the other screamed. Not long after, Jason saw why: his arm was burned from the explosion. Also, their boat began to sink and eventually was lost to sight.
The second boat saw the move and swerved to come around for another pass. Jason produced an MP5 from the bag and took aim. He squeezed the trigger when he was satisfied and peppered the Squallo's hull with holes. "We don't want to sink it, just take out the gunners and the driver."
"Why not blow it up?" Mario asked.
"Because if we can steal it, we'll make it to Ross Island that much faster," Jason responded as he shouldered a sniper rifle taken from the bag and looked through the scope. He held his breath and pulled the trigger. There was a loud report as the gun kicked against his shoulder, and the left gunner's head erupted in a fountain of blood. His body fell to the deck and ceased to move, although the bleeding continued.
The second gunner fired bullets at the side of the boat, hitting below the water line and continued until the gun ran out of bullets. Skinner noticed the boat sinking lower and lower into the water. Jason reloaded and fired again, killing the second gunner.
Chiqo swerved his Rio, Jason picked up the MP5 and leaped through the air. He seemed to hang for a moment over water, and then landed hard in the Squallo. The driver turned to defend his boat, but Jason swung the uzi and struck the man across his face. The driver yelped in surprise, hit the floor, and fell into the water when Jason leveled the gun at his face. "Guess he'd rather swim than go toe-to-toe with a crazed gunner," Jason laughed to himself.
Skinner and Mario jumped aboard the Squallo and began to clean it as Jason took the helm and watched Chiqo abandon his boat, which sunk seconds after he stepped off and onto the speedboat.
Chiqo took control of the boat while Jason and Mario reloaded their guns, discarded bodies, and stowed the weapons away. With their current boat, the ride was reduced to merely an hour, making for a very short wait to get started.
1999
Ross Docks
Ross Island, California
Ross Island itself wasn't a large place—simply put—but it was big enough for the Haitians to begin their operations. The island wasn't hilly, but it had everything the Vercetti Gang boys would need to foil the Haitian operations and finally return Vice City to Tommy's control. Once they did that, Jason would steal a Hunter for Tommy, get the money needed to fund the Mafia, and return to Liberty City and be a made man. So much to do, so little time.
The Squallo made a smooth landing and Jason hopped onto the wooden dock. He watched as three men marched down to meet them. Chiqo tossed Jason the rope line to secure the Squallo to the dock and Jason anchored it on a metal rod sticking from the wood. Just then, the three men approached the newcoming four and the leader held out his hand. "Good to see you, Chiqo," the Cuban man said, shaking their guide's hand. He turned to Jason, Skinner, and Mario. "My name is Rica, and I'm the owner of this harbor. Ever since we learned the Haitians moved here, my people want to reclaim it."
"For claim's sake?" Jason asked.
Rica laughed. "Aye, por favor, for claim's sake." He threw back his head to laugh again as the men behind him took their bags and hurried up the hill to the boathouse to register the Squallo. Several dozen people were present at the harbor, checking in to go out, or returning on some docks to the left or right and preparing to leave. "Ross Island is great for fishing," Rica said as he hurried to follow the men's pace.
"I guess so, but we didn't really come to fish," Skinner said as he slipped on a pair of sunglasses to cover his ghost-white face. He ran a hand over his bald head and scratched his short, stubby beard. "We're here to find out what the Haitians are doing and how to stop them. They gotta be getting money somehow. It's our task to find out why."
"As soon as we do that, I'm going back to Vice City."
"Ah," Rica said, "one of Vercetti's boys, eh?" He laughed, his beerbelly shaking, and said, "I guess old Tommy didn't want to come out in person?"
"He's got more important things to do," Jason responded. Mario nodded in agreement.
They finally arrived at the boathouse and Rica waved away the two men, who dropped the guests' bags by the door and moved off to help others. Rica stepped inside the house and came to face them from behind a counter on the front of the building. "So, how long are you going to be here?" He took out a pen and a clipboard.
"We don't know," Jason responded. "As long as it takes."
"I'll pencil you in for three weeks, and we'll see. That'll be two-hundred dollars, and ninety-four cents, Chiqo." Chiqo pulled out the money along with some change and handed the whole lot to Rica. "Ahh, good." Rica said. He looked up at the four men and smiled. "Welcome to Ross Island."
Luigi Gotorelli was not a happy man. He slammed the phone back onto the hook and frowned as Joey Leone and Toni Cipriani walked into his office. "Those Triads have gone too far this time!" Luigi almost screamed.
"What did they do?" Joey grunted as he took a seat.
"They boarded one of our boats coming in from the Big Apple. Had a whole shipment of SPANK in it...it was scheduled to come tomorrow morning at Portland Harbor, but thanks to our Chinese friends, that ain't gonna happen. They set charges on the Reefer and blew it up! Those bastards!"
"I come bearing some good news," Joey said. Luigi looked up and realized Joey sounded somewhat pleased. "I heard that the Cartel managed to kill Kenji Kasen. Thank God, always had trust in those guys. My contact, Vic "Fingers" Handel told me that a Cartel Cruiser came onto the roof and mushed Kenji right in front of his gang. What a sight that woulda been, you know?"
Lu nodded. "Always knew the Cartel would come through. Now we got Diablo problems, too. They claim we owe 'em some more money, and as much as I hate to say it, they're right."
"We're not paying," Toni grunted. As far as anyone was concerned, he still had control of the Leone Mafia. His word was as good as anyone's. "And if they come asking again, your men have orders to open fire. They can't afford to start a war with us, we're the Mafia for God's sake! Let them try it."
"Do we know how Jason's doing in Vice?" Joey asked.
Lu responded quickly, "Yeah, talked to Vercetti just this morning. Said they left for Ross Island several hours ago."
"Ross Island?" Joey asked. "Never heard of it."
"Neither have I," Toni confessed.
"It's a tiny place off the coast of California. Third the size of Liberty, but big enough that something's going down. For Jason to gain Tommy's trust, he has to go to Ross Island and foil the Haitians' plans to crumble the Vercetti Gang and the Cubans. If you ask me, they don't stand a chance, but Tommy's real worried about it."
"Too worried, if you ask me," Toni said. "I say Jason should have concentrated on what we really need to appeal to Tommy—a Hunter helicopter."
"Jason was told that if the Haitians weren't stopped, Tommy would never help us."
"We scratch their back, they scratch ours..." Toni said. "A whole shipment of SPANK, gone, you say?"
"You got it," Lu snarled. "What are we gonna do to get the Triads back? We can't let them insult us like this! We're gonna go down, Toni. We gotta stop this thing before it even starts!"
All three men jumped as screams could be heard coming from downstairs. Joey grabbed an AK-47 from the table and turned to find out what was going on. He eased the door open and his eyes widened in surprise as he saw what was happening down below. The Triads had finally busted in, knocking over tables and chairs in the club, and making a mess of everything inside. They had shot the bartender in the leg, his blood spilled everywhere, and moved on to the girls and guests. The girls and guests themselves were running as fast as they could for the exit, trying to get away from crazy gangsters and waving guns.
"We're taking this place over!" one Triad shouted over the roar of screaming people. "Toni Cipriani, show yourself! We know you commanded the assault on three of our ganglords! We can make your death painless and quick or painful and slow, it's up to you! Show yourself, coward!"
"They're everywhere," Joey said as he pulled back into the room and bolted the door. As he leveled the AK-47 at the door, the frame began to shake.
"Open up, hiding coward! We've come for revenge!" The door shook again as another blow came into contact with it.
"We've gotta get outta here," Lu said, shouldering an M16 and aiming it at the door. "We got the three most important people in the Leone Mafia here, and if they take us out, our empire will crumble."
"We've worked too hard to let this happen," Toni said. He picked up an AK-47 like Joey's and cocked it. "Too hard to go out without a fight. Joey," he commanded. "Open the door!"
The result was instantaneous. The door burst open, and the gunfire started. Reports echoed through the building, but none of the three Mafia men fell. Joey burst into the hallway and fired over the banister and into the club below. Countless Triads were vulnerable, and Joey picked them off one by one. "Take this, freaks!" Joey roared as he held the trigger down and swept it along the floor. Soon, his gun clicked and he was forced to reload. Toni and Luigi came out behind him and fanned out, looking for more signs of danger.
Telltale signs of Triads still remained outside. From a high window, Joey could see Triad Fish Vans—three of them—parked outside. Whether or not anyone was still alive that could whack them was still to be discovered. "We're not dead yet," Lu said. "And we're not going down without fighting back. These guys have gone too far now. It's time the Leone Mafia hit them hard and fast. Take them out in one fair sweep."
The trio of men descended the stairs only to find out all the Mafia men left in the club were murdered along with the Triads. "Maybe we could call for help," Joey suggested. "Take them by surprise before they can send more guys in."
"Good idea," Lu said as he pulled out his cell phone and clicked it open. After dialing in a number, he placed it to his ear. "We got some problems," he said into it after several seconds. "The Triads stormed the club, and everyone here's dead. The fish vans are still parked outside. Get down here in our sentinels, and take 'em out! I want to be compensated!" Luigi clicked off the phone, replaced it in his suit's jacket pocket, and ushered everyone into the kitchen. "Arm yourselves with whatever knives or cleavers you can find."
Luigi pulled a meat cleaver—the biggest one—from a rack and attached it to his belt. Joey selected a huge machete from a table and cleaned it in the sink. Toni himself opted for using a knife that popped out when you flipped the switch. They pocketed their new blades and returned to the club's main room. "I'm ruined after this!" Luigi cried as he examined the mess. "No one will want to come back here. This does it! It's time to run those Triads out of town!"
An explosion sounded from outside. Joey dashed to the window and watched the second van, on fire, slide backwards down the street after being pushed back from the initial explosions. Seconds later, the flaming truck exploded and took the third with it. Triad bodies littered the street, and Mafia men finally showed themselves, holding shotguns and walking across the street.
"The Red Light District ain't far from Chinatown," Luigi said as he allowed the Mafia boys to enter. There were around eight of them.
"I rounded up as many as I could find," the leader said. He indicated the guys behind him. "Far as I can tell, the Triad's head honcho is piss-farting about his ruined factory over at the place Shadow blew up. Want to head over there and whack him?"
"Sounds like a plan," Luigi said as he eyes the four Mafia Sentinels parked outside. "Let's go now...before they cook up anything else."
Chen Kong-Sang was the most important ganglord in the Triads. His gang all called him Sang, but for some reason, this worked to instill fear into their hearts. He wanted respect from his gang, but for reason's beyond his realm of understanding, they had let something like this happen to their fish front.
"Two weeks ago," Sang started, "I left here secure in the knowledge that my factory would be safe while I was gone on business. When I return, I find out Shadow destroyed our factory, helped the Mafia in a big way, and left us almost in ruins. Not only that, but I hear the Cartel recently killed Kenji Kasen, also something I'm not happy about."
"Actually, Shadow also killed Salvatore Leone," Sang's right-hang man told him as Sang watched the smoldering wreckage of his beautiful factory. "And we never really liked Kenji, anyway."
"I didn't mind him as much as the Mafia!" Sang snarled. He began to pace as he kept one eye on the factory. "Besides, the good deed of killing Mr. Leone is not enough to redeem him from blowing up our front. Do you know how long this will take to rebuild?" Sang cried. "How much money it cost the first time, and the insurance rates? What will I tell my insurance company, eh? 'Our factory got blown up, but we'll be careful next time.' Somehow I doubt they'll go for that. The Triads are going to be finished without some form of money. It's only because I'm here that we've stayed alive."
As he finished his sentence, there was a bang! and Sang's main man dropped, blood squirting from a hole in his back. "Sniper!" Sang cried, throwing himself behind a truck. The sniper had to reload, which gave them just enough time to move out of the way. Triads followed them and moved behind the vans to stay behind the cover. One member ventured out too far and was hit dead center in the forehead. His body fell and blood collected around the corpse.
"Find that sniper and kill him. Half our forces are gathered at this factory." It was true. Literally several dozen Triads were gathered at the factory, almost half their remaining force.
Around the front, a Trashmaster barreled down the dirt path at full speed and slammed right into the gate, knocking it off its hinges and over to the side. The garbage truck couldn't stop itself, it's momentum kept it going, and it slammed into the far wall, in plain sight of the hiding Triads. Joey jumped from the truck on the passenger's side as a squadron of six Mafia Sentinels pulled into the lot and eight men, plus fourteen they had picked up on the way, along with Luigi Gotorelli, stepped from the cars. Half of them leveled shotguns and the other half brought AK-47s to bear and opened fire after taking cover behind the well-armored cars they arrived in.
Gunfire began to fill the air, flying from side to side. Each Mafia man was wearing Kevlar body armor underneath their clothes, including Lu, Joey, and Toni, who remained inside his car. Joey joined Luigi behind one of the cars and added his own gunfire to the fight. Seven Triad Fish Vans were parked in the lot facing the opposing gang, meaning the huge army of Triads had much more protection than the small fire team of Mafia. However, the Mafia had more powerful weapons—shotguns and rifles—while the Triads used less sophisticated armament—handguns and uzis. Triads were also known to carry baseball bats around when they were on the streets. Mafia men hated close combat, sticking with sniper rifles and their shotguns.
Fortunately, more Triads fell from Mafia attacks than vice versa. However, the Mafia were fast running low on ammo. Just as they were considering sending a group to pick up more for the fight, a Triad Fish Van exploded. It was like the domino effect—one erupted into flames, taking out twenty guys—and the rest of them followed. Sang tried to escape in one before it exploded, but the van detonated just as he was jerking the door handle open. He screamed in agony and as his body hit the ground, felt no more.
The day was won, the Triads were defeated, and the Mafia owned Portland. Over the next several minutes, any surviving Triads scattered from the factory and ran for their lives. Where they were going the Mafia didn't care, but they followed the men on foot for simple sport, shooting them before they got in range of cops. Once the Triads reached the roads, the Mafia pulled back and watched the Triads run for their lives.
Triad Fish Vans pulled over the Callahan Bridge and into Staunton Island. Some Triads even leaped into the murky water and swam for the middle island. As he watched, Toni realized he didn't particularly care where they went after this, just that they were rid of them in Portland forever. Final death toll of the day for both sides amounted to—Mafia deaths: 34, Triad deaths: 247.
"The day is ours, boys," Toni said to Joey and Luigi as they headed for the mansion in Saint Mark's. "Enjoy it, and then in time, we'll find the Triad scum and finish them off for good."
"I assume you'll lead the charge," Luigi asked as he sipped some fine wine from a cupholder.
"Nah," Toni said as he slapped Joey heartily on the back. "I think that since the Triads are outta here, it's time to hand over the responsibility of Don to it's rightful owner. Joey Leone, welcome to Donhood."
Dropping his case onto the bed located in a small warehouse in the factory district in south Ross Island, Jason flopped down onto the bed and stared up as Mario and Skinner entered the room. "Nice place, ain't it, man?" Chiqo asked as he swaggered in and looked around. After leaving the docks in a green Perennial station wagon (provided by the boathouse people themselves for a certain rental fee), they arrived at their new hideout in the factory area of Ross Island. Comfortable place for such a cheap amount. Small hideout in the bottom of an electric company. Good place for four guys looking to stay only a couple weeks.
"A bit small for the four of us," Skinner commented as he pulled back the drapes and found the view was a solid brick wall. "Nice view," he said sarcastically.
"Works for me," Mario added as he literally fell onto his own bed. "If you guys are going to check this island out, forget about me. I'm going to sleep right now. None of that exploring stuff tonight, just wait for tomorrow."
"You wanna go check out the mall?" Jason asked Chiqo.
"Naah, I gotta get back to Cali, man," Chiqo said with a smile. "But if you ever need anything, I can be here in an hour. Don't let those Haitians give you any trouble. I'll be taking the Squallo, though. Buenos noches." With that, Chiqo stepped out the door, and closed it behind him.
"What now?" Skinner asked.
"Let's hit the mall. I got some gun money burning a hole in my pocket. Wanna get a good old Python in my hands again." The two of them left Mario to rest in the room. They walked quickly out the door, and Mario heard the engine start and them take off just as he drifted to sleep.
Jason parked the car across the street from the mall in the carpark and stepped into the cool night air. Pulling his jacket tight about him, Jason waited for Skinner to emerge, put on his trenchcoat, and fall into step behind him. The two of them crossed the street and Jason glanced up at the sign overhead. "Save-n-Go Mall?" he said incredulously. "That's the best they could come up with? Sheesh, these old-school places gotta go."
"I like it," Skinner said as he pushed past Jason and waited for the doors to slide open before stepping inside. The sweeping map lay before them—shining floors, department stores on either end, and smaller stores in the middle. Perfect place for them to find some new clothes and pick up armament.
"There's Ammu-Nation," Jason said, pointing towards a store almost around the corner. "I'm gonna go pick up some stuff we might need. Rag wicks, more grenades, and rockets for the launcher. Anything else you can think of?"
Skinner thought for a moment, but only that. "I want a Spaz shotgun. These chromed things the Vercetti Gang gave us are kinda crappy. Gotta get some pump-action stuff around here, Beretto. Don't forget those, whatever you do. I'm gonna get some more clothes for our stay. Who knows how long we'll be here, and I packed light."
The two of them shuffled off in opposite directions, agreeing to meet at the front entrance on the next hour and head back to the factory. Jason stepped through the threshold of Ammu-Nation and the man behind the counter greeted him. "Need to see your permit, sir," the man said and Jason pulled out his gun card. As the counter man was checking it over, two men dressed in blue and white walked into the shop just behind them. Jason heard them, glanced over his shoulder, and then did a double-take. Two Haitian men had just wandered in.
One man fired his pistol twice in the air. "We knew you'd be here, Beretto!" the man screamed. Jason picked up an M16 from the wall and fired it at the man. He dropped in a pool of his own blood. In one swift jump, Jason vaulted over the counter and pulled the salesman down with him. Uzi bullets sprayed over their heads as the remaining Haitian fired. Some security guards began to take notice and came over to investigate.
"Don't provoke me!" the remaining guy called. "You killed my friend, it's personal this time."
Jason stood up and fired his gun into the man's chest. "Want me? Come get me!" The man gurgled as blood flowed from his body, and Jason fired a coup de grâce as he exited the door and left the gun salesman in total shock. Two men fired at him from above, and the only thing he was thinking was, Why can't I just go to the mall without being shot at?! Quickly, he raised the gun and returned fire, dropping both men in seconds.
Coming from Penney's, Skinner snarled, "How do they find us so fast?"
"I don't know," Jason returned. "But let's get outta here." The two of them sprinted from the mall, got into their Sentinel, and floored it all the way back to the factory hideout.
As soon as Jason returned, he knew something wasn't right. Deep down in his gut he knew something bad was going to happen to them. He couldn't explain it, but maybe he didn't want to. Call it instinct, call it whatever you liked, but Jason knew something was amiss. After pushing the front door open, he moved into Mario's room and saw what had happened. "They know where we're staying," he said calmly. Skinner entered the room as well and saw Mario's bloody body, shot to death on his own bed. He probably didn't even wake up to know he was dying.
"A note," Skinner said and picked up a crudely scrawled message laying on the bed beside Mario's bloody body. When he scanned it, Skinner realized Jason's suspicious were correct. "They do know we're here, and where we're staying."
"If they know we're staying here, then why did they—?"
Jason never got to finish his sentence. "We didn't leave," a Haitian man said as he stepped from behind the half-closed door and leveled a shotgun. Another man emerged from the closet and a third came from the bathroom. "We've got this place surrounded, boys. You ain't going anywhere. We gonna take you to see Ali, he be happy to get his hands on two of Vercetti's men. Come with us...we show you loooong night..."
His head was throbbing, his throat was parched, and he couldn't feel his arms or legs. Jason blinked several times to clear his head as his vision began to fade back. He looked around the room he was being held in—gray cement, totally bare except for the chair he was roped to and the chair in front of him, where Skinner was also tied. Travis was still unconscious, but Jason could see the man was still alive. His chest was moving up and down, and sometimes he would fidget while his eyes moved rapidly under their lids.
Jason coughed, blood spattered the floor, and he realized he was completely unarmed. Every weapon he was carrying before they had been captured was gone, even the knife in his sock. They had obviously searched him before taking him to wherever he was now. Jason shook his head to clear his thoughts, but still couldn't figure out how the Haitians knew they had come.
Then it hit him. The Squallo Chiqo had left parked at the harbor. Haitians on the island probably recognized it as their own, and since none of the gunmen or drivers had returned from trying to kill Vercetti's men, that meant they made it to the island. But the one thing Jason couldn't figure out was how the Haitians found out where they were staying. The only people that knew were him, Skinner, Mario, and...Chiqo! That rat must have sold them out. He was probably captured on his way out of the bay and tortured until he told them what they wanted to know.
Just then, the door swung open and in sauntered Ali, followed by three more Haitian men, all of them armed with uzis. "Welcome to Ross Island, indeed," Ali said with a wide grin on his face. "I see Mr. Skinner is still knocked out, eh? That tranq must have been stronger than we thought."
"How did you find our hideout?" Jason asked calmly.
"Please, Mr. Beretto," Ali scoffed. "It was a simple matter of killing the boathouse owners and replacing them with two of my own. You think they didn't hear where you were staying, Jason? Well, obviously not. But don't worry, Chiqo didn't rat you out—if that's what you're thinking." He laughed a throaty, uproarious laugh that made Jason wince in pain. His ears still pounded on the side of his head.
"Tommy Vercetti doesn't want you anymore, Jason," Ali sneered. "Told me so himself. When I mentioned to him that you were captured, he said forget you, he'd scrap this whole Ross Island business and take what he still had. The Haitians' day has finally come, and when the war on Vercetti erupts full-force, he won't know what hit him." Ali pulled a newspaper from his pocket and unfurled it for Jason to see.
The headline was an announcement that a military Rhino had been stolen from Fort Baxter Air Force Base out in Vice City. They didn't even see it coming, but the Vercetti Gang was known to be the blame. "Vercetti! He stole the Rhino?!"
"Of course he didn't, you fool!" Ali scoffed. "I did. I dressed in police clothes, stole the thing from right under their noses. It's parked down in the garage of the car dealership, in an armored area so none of those army fools can take it from me. There's a ship coming to dock in at the harbor, big oceanliner. It specializes in metal manufacturing. If I hand them the tank and give them enough money..."
"They'll manufacture hundreds of tanks for you to unleash on Vice City," Jason said, amazed he had already uncovered what Ali planned to do. "That's why you were trying to steal Tommy's money! Make him a poor old fool, and crush him with his own riches. You needed the cash to pay for all those tanks, and that's why you came here."
Ali was smiling widely now. "Finally, it all makes sense, doesn't it? This oceanliner's company also has one parked in Liberty City. Deliver them a vehicle, and they can hand one over as many times as you ask for it." Ali laughed loudly in that same, scratchy manner. "Do you know where you are?" Jason didn't say anything. "You're in the basement of my food manufacturing company, Little Haiti Goods, and I don't know if you've figured this out already, but the only reason we make food is to overprice them, sell them to the Save-n-Go Mall, take the money we earn, and use it to buy tanks. The plan is fool-proof. And the reason we're succeeding is all thanks to you!"
Jason blinked. "Me?"
"Of course, my friend! You were most helpful while you were sound asleep. We gave you a serum that would wake you up somewhat, but not totally. Put you in a dreamy state where you were unable to lie. You told us everything we needed to know—Tommy's friends, his enemies we can use against him, his strengths, weaknesses...everything we need to know to destroy him and cripple his criminal empire."
Jason stared at the floor and wondered what Tommy was going to do to him.
Another man walked in and Ali spoke to him quietly. "Boss," the new man said as Jason struggled to hear him. "the Securicar you wanted is on its way. The money will be loaded up tomorrow and sent on its way by noon."
"Make sure it gets where it needs to be," Ali responded, equally as quietly. "Nick will be very angry if the next payment doesn't come in." Ali waved the man away and turned back to Jason. "Now that you know my dirty little secret, I can't very well allow you to leave here a free man, so I think a few days in the basement will do you some good." Ali turned to leave and passed by Skinner's chair, where the man was still unconscious—or so it seemed.
Jason had to give the man props. He knew what he was doing. As soon as Ali walked by, Skinner's eyes flew open, the ropes fell from his body, and he punched Ali right in the face. The Haitian gasped and stumbled backwards as Skinner took his weapon and spun to face the guards. Three quick shots of the handgun, and they all lay dead on the floor.
"When did you wake up?" Jason asked as he stooped and grabbed a fallen uzi, along with the dead man's extra ammo. "I never saw you move."
"I was awake before you were," Skinner replied as he took Ali's extra ammo. "Just waiting for the opportune moment. We have to go now, someone will have heard that noise. I know the way out of here—I was awake the whole time when they brought us down. They thought we were out, but I stayed up when they tranq'ed us. Lucky, I guess."
"Strong resistance to knock-out?"
"Been that way forever," Skinner said as he led the way out the door. The two of them sprinted down the hallway, turned a corner, and burst through a door. Just ahead of them was an elevator. Skinner sprinted faster and began to hit the buttons frantically. Two Haitian men came around the corner, one of them raised an AK-47 and shouted for Skinner and Jason to halt. The elevator doors opened, Jason backed inside to follow his companion, and the doors closed before either Haitian got anywhere near the elevator itself.
When the elevator chimed again, the pair stepped out, hurried down another hallway, and burst through two double doors. Expecting to see Haitians coming after them, they were surprised to see they were in a supermarket packing area. Conveyor belts ran every which way, making for a very confusing layout. Obviously the workers understood it, and since they weren't Haitian, Jason and Skinner tried to mingle with the crowd a little bit.
That was until a Haitian ran onto the catwalk overhead and fired his gun at them. Jason dodged and the Haitian shouted, "Stop those guys!" At full speed, Jason and Skinner flew through two double doors and came into a storage area. One guy on a forklift turned to confront them, but Skinner raised his gun and fired, hitting the man in his chest. After uttering a scream, the man fell backwards from the lift and didn't move.
"Through that door and outside!" Skinner said as they pushed through another set of swinging doors and found themselves outside in an alleyway. Skinner looked right, spotted a fire escape, and motioned for them to move to it. "Head up that thing, Beretto! After you!" The pair shimmied up the fire escape's ladder, onto a platform, and then onto another ladder, heading for the roof.
Three Haitian men, followed closely by Ali, burst from the building and spotted the pair racing for safety. "Shoot them!" Ali ordered. Three assault rifles came to bear and the gunmen opened fire, just as Jason and Skinner neared the roof. Skinner hesitated, turned, and fired his pistol. One of the men dropped.
"Nice shot!" Jason said as he gripped the edge of the roof and started to hoist himself over.
"I never miss," Skinner replied as sparks from bullets erupted around them.
When Jason's feet hit the roof, he pulled Skinner over and the ghost-white man moved toward a vent shaft. "Well," Jason started, "we're on the roof, but what are we gonna do now? We're wanted men, Skinner, the cops and Haitians are after us! There's no way to escape them, and no way to get back to Vice City."
"I had Chiqo stash some weapons up here before he left, just in case we needed them."
"Convenient," Jason commented as Skinner pulled a gym bag full of weapon from its place. He pulled out an AK-47, along with some ammo, and thrust them into Jason's arms. Jason immediately loaded his gun, cocked it, and watched Skinner produce a sniper's rifle and move toward the edge of the roof. "Looks like we're gonna have a hard time getting out of here," Skinner said as he looked through the scope. "The road leading out is gated off, with a fence going around to the edge of the island."
"What about the fire escape?"
"Cover it," Skinner said as he continued to watch.
Jason moved over and saw two Haitians climbing the ladder. "They're coming." He raised the rifle, aimed at the bolt holding the fire escape to the building, and fired. The bolt shattered and fell off, making the ladder and platform creak. Jason fired at the other bolt, and the whole escape fell away. Haitian men screamed as they fell, and Ali barely made it away in time. Jason pulled the pin of a grenade, and tossed it down to the alley below. When it exploded, the shrapnel killed the surviving Haitian, and made Ali back off even more.
"Cowards!" Ali screamed.
"What are we gonna do now?" Jason asked.
"Remember that Securicar they mentioned?" Jason nodded. "Well, I bet even you heard them say that Nick isn't going to be happy if the next shipment of money doesn't get delivered. We still have the C4 from Ammu-Nation. What if we used that to stop the van and make sure Nick doesn't get his money?"
"Nick must run that oceanliner business."
"Exactly. Stop the money, and we delay the tanks going to Vice to end Tommy's control over the city."
"I like it," Jason said as he reloaded and cocked the weapon he was holding. "But how can we stop it without being seen? We'd have to be in the sewers or something."
"Exactly," Skinner said with a grin.
Jason groaned and Skinner laughed. "Let's move, before they find us."
Skinner handed Jason a hand grenade. "When it blows the first time, you rush in there, open the doors, and torch the money with this. I'm going to let you do it to prove yourself to the Mafia, Jason. Don't screw this up."