CHAPTER 7—The Real Deal

The helicopter came in low over Starfish Island, blades whipping at the sky in a steady tempo. Travis Skinner was leaning out the open window, feeling the wind whip his face, and watching the Vercetti Estate come closer and closer on the horizon. Eventually he could make out Tommy Vercetti standing on the heli-pad with several of his gang members.

"Take us in," Skinner told the pilot, who nodded and obeyed.

When the runners hit the roof, Skinner pushed open his door and jumped out. He was carrying a gray suitcase and swinging it happily. "I got some money for you, Tommy!" Skinner called over the roar of the helicopter as it began to power down. When it was shut off, Tommy came over and ordered his men to open the case. The whole thing was filled with unmarked hundreds. Tommy smiled and looked up at Travis.

"You've done better than I thought you would," he told his hitman. "Where's Jason?" Tommy asked, looking around for Skinner's teammate.

"Oh," Skinner said, looking at the ground. "I left him back on Ross Island. He said he had some unfinished business to take care of. Told him I'd go back for him in a week."

Tommy pondered this for a moment and then nodded. "Fine. Just get the money inside and I can tell you what I want you to do next. By the way, did Jason leave a number we can reach him at?"

Skinner hesitated, then shook his head. "No, he told me his minutes are all burned up." Skinner smiled inwardly and then continued. "But he said he'd call within the week. He accepts no calls between now and then. Whatever he's doing, it's urgent."

"Fine, fine," Tommy said, waving a hand in dismissal. "Just tell me when he calls back. Anyhow, what I want you to do is get down to the docks at ten o'clock tonight. I got a huge shipment of SPANK coming in from Liberty from the Mafia boys, and I don't want them to be kept waiting. Get down there, on time, and pick up the drugs for me. Come back with them, and leave 'em with my boy, Vic Handel. Call him Fingers, though, he don't like Vic too much. Bring it back tomorrow at eight in the morning. No screw-ups, Skinner, I mean it."

As they entered the estate, Skinner responded, "Whatever you want, Tommy. Whatever you want."

Without much regard for the law, Skinner flashed down the main highway on the right side of West Vice City in his Infernus, loaned to him by Tommy Vercetti himself. After stopping at the pizza joint and picking up several slices, Skinner headed for the docks, jamming to the blasting radio tunes. He was listening to Vrock, which now had a new host, ever since its old host, Lazlow, had been kicked off and moved to a phone-in station airing in Liberty.

The engine revved and Skinner glanced in his rear-view mirror. After making sure no one was in his way, he changed to the right-hand lane, preparing to enter the docks area. He would enter Viceport, go around the bend, and the dock entrance would be on the right. Viceport came up ahead, and Skinner pulled through the open gates and into the docks.

Skinner slammed the door closed as he stepped out. The car fell silent as the keys were removed and Skinner was plunged into darkness. Save for the light on inside the boathouse, the night was pitch black.

Minutes later, there was a roar of a boat engine. Skinner gazed out to sea, removed his sunglasses, which he always wore regardless of the time, and spotted a Squallo pull up to one of the docks. Two men hopped onto the dock and tied their boat up. A third hauled several cases from the boat and walked toward Skinner.

"You the Mafia boys?" Skinner asked as he stepped forward and lit a cigarette.

"That's us," the man holding the cases responded. "You got the money, we got your SPANK, man. Just make this an even exchange. Drop the money in the middle, and we drop our drugs. Don't want no funny stuff, man. We need the money, you want the drugs, it's all very simple."

"Agreed." Skinner dropped the case he was carrying and pushed it towards the Mafia men. They clicked it open, scanned the money to make sure it was, in fact, the amount promised, and, finally satisfied, handed over the drugs.

"This will help us, man. You make sure Tommy knows how grateful we are."

"Oh, he'll know."

As the men turned to go, Skinner opened the door of his car and pulled something from the inside. One Mafia man turned to see what he was doing, just as Skinner slammed the door and cocked a Colt M4, leveling it at the man's chest.

"What the—?" Skinner sprayed bullet's into the man's chest, killing him. The remaining two men realized what was happening and produced two handguns they had been hiding. Jason fired several rounds before either man could get off a single pop. One man went down, and the other was hit in the shoulder. He fell backwards into the boat and sprawled on the seat resting by the side.

Skinner loomed over him and flicked the cigarette into the water after taking a final puff. The Mafia man was trying to get a hold of someone on his cell phone, but Skinner canceled that. He swung the gun like a bat and caved the man's skull in. After dumping all three bodies into the water, Skinner loaded the money and drugs onto the boat, inserted the keys he had stolen before disposing of the bodies, and started the engine. When the boat was untied using his knife, Skinner pushed off and drove away into the night, leaving three dead men and the Infernus behind.

PFC James Kane had been on-duty for the past eleven hours at Fort Baxter. Shouldering the M60 he was carrying, he looked down from the guard tower his position held him to and watched the midday sun blaze overhead. He had started late evening the night before, and he would be relieved when his shift ended in an hour. A two-day vacation sounded somewhat along the lines of his fancy, and he was greatly looking forward to it.

Kane halted in front of the railing as he propped the two-man gun against the wall. Looking down over the streets, all was silent. But then he saw something that made his pulse quicken. Two men were getting out of a white Perennial that was parked across the street. They were both wearing green jumpsuits and white hockeymasks. One of them cocked a Colt Python, and the other loaded a clip into an MP5 he was carrying. The man with the Python also had a single-shot sniper's rifle slung on his back. The man with the MP5 had a Ruger in the same position. They also had a ring of grenades—each holding around six—strapped to their chests.

LT Jamison came tramping up the steps and smiled at the private. "I'm relieving you early, Kane." Kane tried to speak as both men drew closer, but no sound came from his mouth. The one holding the sniper's rifle drew the gun and took aim through the scope.

Kane tried to talk again and the LT smiled. "Little exasperated, I can imagine. But don't thank me now, just make sure you know you owe me a favor." As the Lieutenant finished talking, there was a crack of gunfire and the LT's head exploded. Kane gasped and jumped backwards as the body hit the floor and blood flowed freely, pooling around his feet. In his mind, he could hear the rifle reloading as he leaped backwards and saw the second round hit the wall behind where his head had been seconds before. Before Kane could punch the alarm, sounds of gunfire echoed from below.

Two PFC's had seen the men coming and opened fire. They were too well-armed to be normal citizens. Both men took cover behind their car and returned fire. The man with the Ruger hit one of the army men, who collapsed and died on the spot. The second army officer jumped behind the cement wall and reloaded his gun.

The army wasn't taking any chances on these two clowns. They obviously knew what they were doing, and if a firefight erupted, innocent bystanders might be hurt. The ranking officer at the base, Lieutenant Major Haverson, ordered a complete assault on both men. But by the time an attack was made, one of the assailants was gone. It was the man with the MP5 and Ruger who was still hiding behind the car and opening fire.

Just then, there was a roaring sound, and a huge Packer came flying up the road just west of Fort Baxter Air Force Base. The driver was the second armed man, and he spun the wheel and smashed into the red-and-white barrier at the entrance. Army men opened fire at the truck, but a grenade flew from the driver's window and exploded, blowing up two men and injuring a third. The Packer collided with the fence across the open yard and knocked it right over. Rumbling ever onward, the truck smashed into the rear wall and came to rest, right next to a gleaming Apache attack helicopter...the Hunter. The vehicle was the only one of its kind in Vice City, and it soon became obvious both men really wanted it.

The man jumped from the truck and brought his Python to bear, killing three men in rapid succession.

From the guard tower, Kane shouldered his M60 and took aim. He was trying not to hit the Hunter, but the man with the Python was hiding behind some piled sandbags near the helicopter, making it hard to get a clear shot.

His accomplice, the one with the Ruger and MP5, came into the Fort through the front entrance and opened fire with both guns. Sandbags exploded, spraying the filth inside all over the base. Wood equipment shattered like the brittle objects they were, as the man ducked outside again to reload both guns. A grenade flew over the wall, rolled under a man advancing on the corner, and blew him sky-high.

It was then that the third man made himself known. He jumped onto the rear wall, wearing exactly what the others were but holding a rocket launcher, and opened fire. Four men were blown up in the blast, but it was now that the military began to get serious. Eight army men opened fire with their powerful machine guns, ripping into the sandbags and pumping the man behind them full of lead. His Python and sniper's rifle both hit the ground, blood flowing away from his body.

On top of the guard tower, Kane hit the trigger on his M60, hitting the man with the rocket launcher. He gasped for air as hundreds of rounds entered and exited his body. The rocket launcher hit the ground inside the base, but the body fell backwards off the wall, vanishing from sight.

With only one man left, the military were getting somewhat confident. They had been holding back until the masked madmen started cutting down their numbers too significantly to let it go on. They had to either kill—or be killed.

The man behind the wall spotted the car across the street and was about to make a break for it when he heard the sound of police sirens in the distance. They were coming for him. Also, he remembered the guard on the tower that killed his buddy. Well, that wasn't going to happen to him. Someone had to escape and report on the defenses of the Fort, and he vowed that he would make it.

He lobbed a grenade over the wall, waited two seconds, and then made a break for it, running backwards. The Ruger hit his shoulder, he prepared to pull the trigger, but the man on the tower was faster. Kane opened fire a second time, peppered the man with bullets, and watched his body hit the ground.

Lieutenant Major Haverson walked into the road, gun on target with the shot man, and took careful steps closer. Behind him, two PFCs came out onto the road, guns also drawn, and followed their leader. Haverson knelt beside the pockmarked man and started to pull off the mask. Before he could do so, the man jumped up, drew a shotgun he had stashed earlier behind the Fort Baxter sign in a duffel bag, and fired. The Lieutenant Major was blown off his feet, five holes punched through his chest. As his corpse landed with a thud, the masked man ducked under the PFCs bullets and fired again. This time, the single shot took down both privates, who were standing too close together.

Responding immediately, guards on both towers opened fire. It was the Kevlar body armor the man wore that protected him as he sprinted for the car and rolled behind it. Guards fired this time at the car, which eventually caught on fire. The masked man jumped away just as the vehicle exploded and sent bits of metal everywhere.

Several guards watched the man and started to fire again. However, the man shouldered his Ruger and squeezed the trigger. Two military officers fell to the hail, geysers of blood fountaining from their bodies. Kane watched this with disgust as he trained his M60 and hit the trigger. The round of bullets hit the man in the face, shot blood everywhere, and the man collapsed, actually dead this time.

Military officers came out to look at the body, and all three were eventually sent to the authorities for investigation. As it turned out, none of the three bodies were identified, hinting that they possibly had no family, and that a certain gang was involved.

"Earlier this afternoon, Fort Baxter Air Force Base was attacked by three unknown assailants. One was wielding assault weapons, the second long- and short-range guns, and the third a rocket launcher. It is unknown how many military men were killed in the gunfight that broke out when the three men tried to enter the base and apparently steal the Apache helicopter known as a Hunter, but estimates are around three dozen. The man with assault weapons opened fire with two guns on the base, wounding and killing at least a dozen men. We will keep you updated as the military learns more about these masked men. I am Donna Brayer, and this is your VC News."

Tommy Vercetti cursed and snapped the television off. Ken leaned towards him and tried to force a smile. "At least we found out what the military are capable of."

Tommy's head whipped around and he glared at his lawyer. "But at the cost of three of my boys. I didn't want to send them and risk their lives, but I just had to know what kind of heat Fort Baxter is packing. After their performance tonight, I'm beginning to think that an all-out assault isn't the way to go. Perhaps stealth is more...appropriate."

Ken considered. "Maybe a combination of the two."

"In any event," Tommy continued, "I also haven't heard back from Skinner yet. He was supposed to make the drop this morning, but Fingers told me no one ever showed. If he's taking the drugs for himself, I'll—"

"About that—" Ken started.

"What?" Tommy prompted.

"Well, I don't know if you heard, but there were three dead men recovered from the water last night at Viceport in the docks. Also, there was an abandoned Infernus sitting up by the boathouse with no fingerprints at all in it."

"Skinner always wore gloves," Tommy said to himself. "Leather ones," he added, almost as an afterthought.

Ken hesitated before continuing. "There's also a filed report of a missing boat. The dock workers reported it to the Vice City Police Department. Who knows if it was really their boat, they might have seen whoever did it take the thing?"

"The boatyard workers," Tommy said. "They would have seen anything happen last night. If I can send some men down there, they could question the workers I hired and ask if they saw anything. We might finally have our man. That would also explain why Skinner didn't show up. If he took the drugs and money for himself, he might be skipping town to go somewhere else."

"Where would he go?"

Tommy considered. "I gotta make a call. Ken, what's Luigi Gotorelli's number?"

Skinner's Squallo roared into port in Liberty City. It was late evening, around seven at night, and Skinner's plans were going well. Bringing the speedy boat in to dock, the shaded man tied the boat to the post and hauled both the case of SPANK and the case of money onto the wooden dock.

Three men, all of them dressed in fancy suits and concealing weapons, walked smoothly down the stairway and approached the man in the trenchcoat and black pants. "You're Travis Skinner, right?"

"I'm him." Was that always the greeting these Mafia guys started with? It sure seemed that way, he thought, remembering two days previously with the other men who had delivered the drugs. "Who wants to know?"

"We're here on business for Luigi Gotorelli, the Leone Mafia. Are you the hitman we hired?"

Skinner nodded, so the man continued his little spiel.

"We've got a big job for you, bud. There's a black Sentinel up those stairs," the man said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder, "so get up into that car. We'll take you to see our employer. He's gonna take a look at ya, and if ya pass, you've got the job."

"Lead the way."