TRENT 8-BALL FIDO & FIDELIO:
Triad Massasination Part II:
Fidelio, wet and miserable pulls himself up out of the water. He hauls himself up onto the hard ground and crawls into the grass. He turns over on his back and lays in the soft green field, soaking wet and frustrated. He takes a deep breathe, with his gun still in his hand he slowly turns to his left, opening his eyes. What he sees shakes him to the bone.
Diabos wearing both red and blue bandannas run towards the Triad's hideout, they spot one another and there is brief dialogue. Then the mood grows more angry and the civil war ensues, Diablos destroying other Diablos, breaking each other like ceramic sculptures. Triads quickly pull up in red and blue vans, red and blue like the Diablos, but noticablly still united. The duel turns into a triple threat.
Fidelio had been involved in gang wars before, but not like this. This was the kind of thing that you only saw when watching old war footage, or the stories that were told by returning war soldiers. He couldn't believe the hell that had been brought together. A Fish van, comes careening through the field slamming into four Diablos, three of them are the allies of his crew the blue bandannas. The Diablo with the red bandanna hits the ground screaming in pain. A Triad steps up and puts four bullets in his head, a Diablo with a blue bandanna blows him to bits. The Diablo swerves around and punctures holes through the Fish van that had hit the others earlier, the van tears through the grass and dirt.
Fidelio can see that the van's front windshield is blood spattered and the car tears towards him at an amazing speed. A Triad is trapped inside seemingly unable to stop the car from moving, the drivers body somehow keeping him from doing so.
Fidelio jumps too late, but he makes it out alive. The speeding van slams into his foot as he jumps the impact is so hard that he's rotated in mid-air and when he lands his head is where his foot would have been.
He watches the van crash into the water with force, and sink to the bottom with grace. He limps towards the water's edge. His foot doesn't hurt too much, he knows now it's not broken. As the Triads head emerges from the vans open window, Fidelio aims his gun.
The Triad looks at him raising his hands, "NO!"
Fidelio pulls on the trigger, he can feel the pressure, feel the guns implication of oncoming recoil. He releases his finger from the trigger, the Triad breathes a sigh of relief, his life has been spared. Fidelio turns around, to get back to the others in his crew. An out of focus picture of a gun is brought into view. It comes clear extremely quickly, droplets of rain splattering off the sight of the gun.
Fidelio's reaction is instantaneous, he jams his gun up the Triad's ribs and pulls the trigger four times then he turns dropping the man into the water with the other Triad.
The Triple threat gang war continues, but now they are joined by a newer and potentially more terrifying onslaught of armed and dangerous fighters. Libery City's finest.
Fidelio decides that 'this mission is fucked!' He runs back through the fence towards the other members of his group. He shoots a Triad in the back six times as he step over the sharp peices of broken fence. Reloading his gun, he looks around, at smoking debris, and dead bodies. To his left is a crashed Fish van with the torn corpse of the former driver lying on its hood, the wall above his head leaking blood.
"Hey, TRENT! TRENT!"
Trent appears from around a corner. "Yeah!"
"You, or 8-ball, or Fido, you guys find that money yet?!"
"No we can't find it, it's fuckin' crazy it's like they didn't even hide it here. I think this might be a set up. I don't mean Tony set us up, I'm just sayin'... man. This is fucked up!"
"We gotta get the fuck out of here man! The cops are comin'!"
"I KNOW that."
"No," he says frantically, "Not like they're comin' like from the station, like; they're here, and they're comin' NOW!"
"Fuck that shit! 8-ball says, "I'm not goin' back to prison man. I'm gettin't he hell out of here - fuck that money!" He grabs his bag and heads for the hole in the fence determined to leave with both his life and his freedom.
Fido follows close behind him, and Trent is a distant third. He himself, regrets not looking any harder for the money, but 8-ball was right, his life is more important. All four men bolt towards the fence firing their guns at the rival gangs. 8-ball can see innocent pedestrians spread across the concrete, victims of unconscious violence in a city with no forgiveness. 8-ball and Fido get through the gate.
They all turn and scramble the other way, dozens of cops flow towards them like a raging waterfall. They felt like they were trying to run from a beam of light. Really they were running from bullets and speeding cars. A S.W.A.T. van crashes through the remaining bits of the fence dragging along the ground, a spark flies up and hits Fidelio in the eye. He runs the other direction his eye burning, he is followed by Fido who is concerned about leaving Fidelio for the cops. He helps him keep his balance as they run towards the concrete wall-barrier ahead.
Trent decides on a very particular plan of action, he cracks the butt of his gun into the back of a S.W.A.T. memeber's skull swinging up getting his head just below the helmet. After he falls to the ground Trent crushes the barrel up against the back of his head and lifts him to his feet. 8- ball provides him with necessary cover.
He leads the cop very quickly towards the S.W.A.T. van. The three of them enter, the S.W.A.T. guy in the middle. Trent closes the door and 8- ball steps on the gas.
8-ball turns to Trent, "Roll up the fucking windows!"
Trent begins to roll up the windows, 8-ball's side is already up. A loud crack explodes next to 8-ball's left ear, and he goes deaf on that side.
"FUCK!...... What the HELL was THAT!"
No answer, he looks to his right, next to him screaming bloody murder, is the S.W.A.T. guy, his voice slightly muffled by his uniform. A large gaping hole is carved into his thigh, blood gushing from his wound pushed out by a steaming bullet fragmenting his leg. The cop squeezes on it and blood pours out dripping across the seats and staining 8-ball's blue jeans.
"JeSUS ChrIST!" Trent says turning towards the S.W.A.T. man, he pulls his mask off of his head. The cop seems simultaneously relieved and terrified, the pain in his leg is more obvious to him now, and is in full view. Now he can see very clearly the blood flowing like icecream in an oven.
He screams loudly horrified, 8-ball can't focus, and Trent can't figure out what's going on. "Shut the fuck UP!" Agitated he leans over and slams the gun into the man's head, knocking him unconscious. "Pull over!"
"Pull over? What the fuck dy'a mean pull over, you see how many fuckin' cops are out here?!"
Trent leans over and looks through the window. "No."
"Exactly, if I pull over the cops'll find us in no time man, I can't afford to do somethin' that stupid!"
"Just do it! And be fuckin' quick about it."
8-ball slams on the breaks and the two of them run frantically to the back of the van, they pull open the doors and throw the S.W.A.T. guy inside, shutting the doors they head back to the front of the van and drive towards Tony's. -
- Behind them them Fido and Fidelio can hear Trent and 8-ball make their escape. The two of them can't turn back, they had to run forward. Fidelio leaps up grabbing the top of the wall, he manages to pull himself all the way up the concrete barrier. Fido spots a ladder and jumps onto it, a hand grabs him by the back of his leather jacket and yanks on him, he falls back and feels his head fuse with concrete. Guns point at his face, a flurry of voices fills the air muted to Fido by the calming sounds of falling rain.
"FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!" Fidelio screams, sitting on the top of the concrete barrier. Fido had been caught, as if that wasn't bad enough it looked like he was next. He aims his gun and starts blasting holes through police and through their armor, to his dismay he fails to get a single fatal shot before loosing his balance and falling. He falls backward, his fall is broken by a soft plastic feel, he slides across it, and is suspended for a second, this time the impact is much more noticeable, he hits the ground hard.
He looks to his right, the thing he had slid off of was the black top to a yellow dumpster. It seemed a little out of place, and unusually it looked brand new. He gets to his feet, and looks around straightening his tie, he takes both hands and lifts up the plastic top of the metal dumpster. When he sees the contents he throws it open the rest of the way. Inside the dumpster is filled with tons and tons of money, one next to it is also filled with money, and one next to that. He smiles balling up one of his fist, the gun in his other hand, that reaction of pure victory comes, as he feels like he's one the lottery.
'I'm fucking rich!' he thinks to himself smiling. Then he closes all three of the dumpsters to hide the contents, and surprisingly makes a clean getaway. He takes his cellphone out of his pocket, it's water resistant, but he checks it just in case.
As he begins to talk to Tony on the phone only one thing comes to mind...
"Hello Tony?"
... 8-ball was right, it must be his lucky day.
Triad Massasination Part II:
Fidelio, wet and miserable pulls himself up out of the water. He hauls himself up onto the hard ground and crawls into the grass. He turns over on his back and lays in the soft green field, soaking wet and frustrated. He takes a deep breathe, with his gun still in his hand he slowly turns to his left, opening his eyes. What he sees shakes him to the bone.
Diabos wearing both red and blue bandannas run towards the Triad's hideout, they spot one another and there is brief dialogue. Then the mood grows more angry and the civil war ensues, Diablos destroying other Diablos, breaking each other like ceramic sculptures. Triads quickly pull up in red and blue vans, red and blue like the Diablos, but noticablly still united. The duel turns into a triple threat.
Fidelio had been involved in gang wars before, but not like this. This was the kind of thing that you only saw when watching old war footage, or the stories that were told by returning war soldiers. He couldn't believe the hell that had been brought together. A Fish van, comes careening through the field slamming into four Diablos, three of them are the allies of his crew the blue bandannas. The Diablo with the red bandanna hits the ground screaming in pain. A Triad steps up and puts four bullets in his head, a Diablo with a blue bandanna blows him to bits. The Diablo swerves around and punctures holes through the Fish van that had hit the others earlier, the van tears through the grass and dirt.
Fidelio can see that the van's front windshield is blood spattered and the car tears towards him at an amazing speed. A Triad is trapped inside seemingly unable to stop the car from moving, the drivers body somehow keeping him from doing so.
Fidelio jumps too late, but he makes it out alive. The speeding van slams into his foot as he jumps the impact is so hard that he's rotated in mid-air and when he lands his head is where his foot would have been.
He watches the van crash into the water with force, and sink to the bottom with grace. He limps towards the water's edge. His foot doesn't hurt too much, he knows now it's not broken. As the Triads head emerges from the vans open window, Fidelio aims his gun.
The Triad looks at him raising his hands, "NO!"
Fidelio pulls on the trigger, he can feel the pressure, feel the guns implication of oncoming recoil. He releases his finger from the trigger, the Triad breathes a sigh of relief, his life has been spared. Fidelio turns around, to get back to the others in his crew. An out of focus picture of a gun is brought into view. It comes clear extremely quickly, droplets of rain splattering off the sight of the gun.
Fidelio's reaction is instantaneous, he jams his gun up the Triad's ribs and pulls the trigger four times then he turns dropping the man into the water with the other Triad.
The Triple threat gang war continues, but now they are joined by a newer and potentially more terrifying onslaught of armed and dangerous fighters. Libery City's finest.
Fidelio decides that 'this mission is fucked!' He runs back through the fence towards the other members of his group. He shoots a Triad in the back six times as he step over the sharp peices of broken fence. Reloading his gun, he looks around, at smoking debris, and dead bodies. To his left is a crashed Fish van with the torn corpse of the former driver lying on its hood, the wall above his head leaking blood.
"Hey, TRENT! TRENT!"
Trent appears from around a corner. "Yeah!"
"You, or 8-ball, or Fido, you guys find that money yet?!"
"No we can't find it, it's fuckin' crazy it's like they didn't even hide it here. I think this might be a set up. I don't mean Tony set us up, I'm just sayin'... man. This is fucked up!"
"We gotta get the fuck out of here man! The cops are comin'!"
"I KNOW that."
"No," he says frantically, "Not like they're comin' like from the station, like; they're here, and they're comin' NOW!"
"Fuck that shit! 8-ball says, "I'm not goin' back to prison man. I'm gettin't he hell out of here - fuck that money!" He grabs his bag and heads for the hole in the fence determined to leave with both his life and his freedom.
Fido follows close behind him, and Trent is a distant third. He himself, regrets not looking any harder for the money, but 8-ball was right, his life is more important. All four men bolt towards the fence firing their guns at the rival gangs. 8-ball can see innocent pedestrians spread across the concrete, victims of unconscious violence in a city with no forgiveness. 8-ball and Fido get through the gate.
They all turn and scramble the other way, dozens of cops flow towards them like a raging waterfall. They felt like they were trying to run from a beam of light. Really they were running from bullets and speeding cars. A S.W.A.T. van crashes through the remaining bits of the fence dragging along the ground, a spark flies up and hits Fidelio in the eye. He runs the other direction his eye burning, he is followed by Fido who is concerned about leaving Fidelio for the cops. He helps him keep his balance as they run towards the concrete wall-barrier ahead.
Trent decides on a very particular plan of action, he cracks the butt of his gun into the back of a S.W.A.T. memeber's skull swinging up getting his head just below the helmet. After he falls to the ground Trent crushes the barrel up against the back of his head and lifts him to his feet. 8- ball provides him with necessary cover.
He leads the cop very quickly towards the S.W.A.T. van. The three of them enter, the S.W.A.T. guy in the middle. Trent closes the door and 8- ball steps on the gas.
8-ball turns to Trent, "Roll up the fucking windows!"
Trent begins to roll up the windows, 8-ball's side is already up. A loud crack explodes next to 8-ball's left ear, and he goes deaf on that side.
"FUCK!...... What the HELL was THAT!"
No answer, he looks to his right, next to him screaming bloody murder, is the S.W.A.T. guy, his voice slightly muffled by his uniform. A large gaping hole is carved into his thigh, blood gushing from his wound pushed out by a steaming bullet fragmenting his leg. The cop squeezes on it and blood pours out dripping across the seats and staining 8-ball's blue jeans.
"JeSUS ChrIST!" Trent says turning towards the S.W.A.T. man, he pulls his mask off of his head. The cop seems simultaneously relieved and terrified, the pain in his leg is more obvious to him now, and is in full view. Now he can see very clearly the blood flowing like icecream in an oven.
He screams loudly horrified, 8-ball can't focus, and Trent can't figure out what's going on. "Shut the fuck UP!" Agitated he leans over and slams the gun into the man's head, knocking him unconscious. "Pull over!"
"Pull over? What the fuck dy'a mean pull over, you see how many fuckin' cops are out here?!"
Trent leans over and looks through the window. "No."
"Exactly, if I pull over the cops'll find us in no time man, I can't afford to do somethin' that stupid!"
"Just do it! And be fuckin' quick about it."
8-ball slams on the breaks and the two of them run frantically to the back of the van, they pull open the doors and throw the S.W.A.T. guy inside, shutting the doors they head back to the front of the van and drive towards Tony's. -
- Behind them them Fido and Fidelio can hear Trent and 8-ball make their escape. The two of them can't turn back, they had to run forward. Fidelio leaps up grabbing the top of the wall, he manages to pull himself all the way up the concrete barrier. Fido spots a ladder and jumps onto it, a hand grabs him by the back of his leather jacket and yanks on him, he falls back and feels his head fuse with concrete. Guns point at his face, a flurry of voices fills the air muted to Fido by the calming sounds of falling rain.
"FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!" Fidelio screams, sitting on the top of the concrete barrier. Fido had been caught, as if that wasn't bad enough it looked like he was next. He aims his gun and starts blasting holes through police and through their armor, to his dismay he fails to get a single fatal shot before loosing his balance and falling. He falls backward, his fall is broken by a soft plastic feel, he slides across it, and is suspended for a second, this time the impact is much more noticeable, he hits the ground hard.
He looks to his right, the thing he had slid off of was the black top to a yellow dumpster. It seemed a little out of place, and unusually it looked brand new. He gets to his feet, and looks around straightening his tie, he takes both hands and lifts up the plastic top of the metal dumpster. When he sees the contents he throws it open the rest of the way. Inside the dumpster is filled with tons and tons of money, one next to it is also filled with money, and one next to that. He smiles balling up one of his fist, the gun in his other hand, that reaction of pure victory comes, as he feels like he's one the lottery.
'I'm fucking rich!' he thinks to himself smiling. Then he closes all three of the dumpsters to hide the contents, and surprisingly makes a clean getaway. He takes his cellphone out of his pocket, it's water resistant, but he checks it just in case.
As he begins to talk to Tony on the phone only one thing comes to mind...
"Hello Tony?"
... 8-ball was right, it must be his lucky day.