Rosenberg woke up in a hospital bed, the smell of antiseptic stung in his nose. His right shoulder ached like crazy. "Shit" he groaned as he tried to roll over only to find that he couldn't.
"Alright mate" a strong cockney accent rung in his ears. Rosenberg forced his eyes open, "oh god, I'm dead, I'm dead and in hell"
"Hey, hey it me, Kent Paul. You're in hospital mate. Some nut took at shot at ya" Paul said calmly trying to reassure him.
Rosenberg groaned again, he muttered hysterically under his breath. He reluctantly sat up and looked around the sterile room. His head was throbbing; he clutched a handful of his frizzy orange brown hair and closed his eyes.
"Come on me old mate, we gotta get going" Paul called, making Rosenberg's head hurt even more.
"Going? Going where"
"Home, cause that psycho is bound to be back"
Rosenberg moaned, "alright" he said forcing himself to get up. He managed to stand although his legs seemed shaky. He blushed as he realized that he was wearing a surgical green nightshirt.
"Where are my clothes?" Rosenberg asked as he pulled the open slit in the back of his shirt together.
"We don't have time, there's a car waiting outside now" Paul said he stepped towards the door. Rosenberg grumbled and staggered after Kent Paul, his shoulder aching more than ever.
The pair stepped into the corridor. It was almost empty except for the occasional nurse on her rounds.
Kent Paul wolf whistled a passing nurse. She glared at him but continued to walk away.
The pair walked down the hall, their shoes clicking of the cheap tiled floor. They passed the reception without a word. A cold frosty breeze greeted Rosenberg; he shivered and looked around the dark car park. It was almost 3am and there was no sign of the sun rising anytime in the next 2 hours. It was going to be another murky wet day in Vice city.
Paul walked swiftly towards a plain looking estate car. A middle-aged man sat in the driving seat. He sat back not looking at his two passengers approaching. He was dressed in a light blue Hawaiian shirt and plain blue jeans. His black hair was smoothly brushed back and a silver chain hung around his neck. The man said nothing until he heard the two back doors slam shut.
He turned on the engine, a blast of warm air billowed out of the heater. "How are you feeling" the driver inquired coolly. Rosenberg frowned; before he had time to start complaining the driver spoke again. "Look" he said as he turned his attention to a battered police bike entering the car park. "Seems like he came to finish the job" Kent Paul mussed loudly.
"Then lets go, Tommy" Rosenberg said panicking slightly. "Take Rosenberg back to the office" Tommy said coldly to Kent Paul. Tommy got out of the car and pulled a small riffle from under his seat, "I'll catch up with you later" he said as he walked through the car park, keeping out of sight from the mysterious gunman.
Tommy Vercetti raised the gun and rested it on the bonnet of a car. He watched carefully as the figure dressed in nothing but black crept into an ally beside the hospital.
Tommy followed, slowly moving closer every second.
The Black Panther cursed under its breath, it moved along, peering through a few of the misty windows. It cursed again and prepared for a long wait. The Black Panther didn't know when Rosenberg would leave but it would be easier to investigate further in the morning. It sat down on an upturned bin and let out a bored sigh.
The next thing that the Black Panther knew was it was lying on the ground, the side of its face throbbing. "What the hell" the Black Panther muttered as it forced its eyes to focus. It found itself staring into the sinister barrel of a riffle.
Tommy Vercetti looked down at the stunned figure, his hands tightly wrapped around the riffle.
Meanwhile Kent Paul and Rosenberg had just reached his office. Rosenberg toyed with his glasses nervously.
"So, you know which nut case took a pop at ya?" he asked already knowing the answer. Rosenberg paused and thought about the attack. He shook his head, "No, all I remember was a pair of cold green eyes". Paul let out a fake yet amused noise from the back of his throat.
"Really, it sounds like the Black Panther to me"
"No, no, I mean the Black Panther is just an urban legend" Rosenberg stammered in a startled tone. Kent Paul nodded as he finally found a bottle of gin tucked away behind Rosenberg's desk. "Now this is what we need," he said merrily as he pulled the top off and took a swig from the bottle. He offered Rosenberg the brown tinted bottle.
The Black Panther held its breath, planning its next move. The cold and unshaven face of Tommy Vercetti looked down on the assassin. The morning air stung their throats. The Black Panther shifted slightly, only to have the riffle pushed firmly against its forehead. "Don't even think about it, you're in deep shit now" he said his eyes bitter and icy. The Black Panther said nothing, just kept deadly still.
"So what a have you got against Rosenberg?" he said coldly as he pulled the gun back slightly. The panther didn't reply. Tommy moved his hand towards the trigger.
The assassin sighed, "Its a job, surely you know that" Tommy Vercetti scowled he raised the gun slightly and smashed the barrel against the Panther's head. It uttered a quiet cry as it hit the ground.
"Don't play dumb with me. Who wants him dead?" he yelled coldly re-aiming the gun. The Panther blinked, purple blotches floated around in front of its eyes.
Something started to ring. Tommy held the gun in one hand as he pulled a mobile phone from his pocket. "Really, you sure, right" He said into the phone. The panther shifted slightly taking advantage of the distraction. The Black Panther kicked the gun out of its face and managed to leap to its feet, breaking into a painful run.
"SHIT!" he yelled as he ran after the escaping assassin. He raised the gun and shot managing to hit the fleeing legend in the leg. The Panther stumbled but forced itself to keep moving.
The Black Panther swore as the ally ended abruptly at a chain link fence. It hurled itself at the fence and started to climb it quickly.
Tommy was in hot pursuit, he laughed bitterly as he noticed the fence, "No where left to run asshole," he cried out before he grabbed one of the assassin's legs and tugged it, practically dragging it from the fence. The Black Panther managed to land on its feet only to once again come face to face with the riffle.
"Goodnight" Tommy said coldly as he brought the gun around again, smashing it into the left side of the Panther's head.