FIDO:
Fido stumbles out of the Sentinal his only mentality tells him to wipe his face off, he wobbles, out of reality like looking at himself through a cage in a human zoo. He wipes his face smeering blood across his hands, the only thing it seemed like he couldn't wipe off was the burning sensation all over his face.
He wasn't sticking around, that black and white Patriot they'd slammed into was D-Ice's car. Fido'd seen it cruising around the streets at night, he wasn't afraid of D-Ice but fucking with him meant a huge war against the mafia. That's why he'd never taken any contract on D-Ice, not only was every attempt to difuse D-Ice wildly unsuccessful, but it meant the distruction of three past gangs in Liberty City over a one year period. He might have taken a contract on D-Ice if he was asked by Tony directly, but then he'd skip town, let Tony clean up his own mess. Fido seemed suicidal and wasn't afraid to die, but if he could help it he'd live as long as he felt like it.
'Great,' he thought, 'all this and now I've got to go to Vice City' Vice was the cozy Miami like bubblegum hellhole that Fido has nightmares about. He'd heard about Vice, a lot about vice, it was supposedly very violent and crime ridden, this didn't change the fact that going there will probably make him feel like he's walked into an N'sync concert.
Over half the people in Liberty enjoyed or tolerated the rain because they had to due to poverty. People who actually had the money to leave - like Fido - just plain liked the rain and most of the city itself. If not he would have left, no that's not true, the biggest reason he never left was his crew. It seems cliche, but when a man risks his life to put a bullet in a man who tried to rip you to pieces with an uzi full of hollow-points, you don't give a shit whether it's cliche or not. That man deserves your respect.
The reason they were going to Vice was because Tony was planning to show Trent some respect for working so goddamn hard. Tony liked to tell Fido his secrets, knowing that they couldn't drift that way. Most of them weren't really big anyway so it didn't matter. Fido wasn't sure about working with Tommy Vercetti, he was going to watch out for him. He'd heard a rumor that Tommy'd shot his friend Lance and his boss for no reason except to get a bigger piece of the pie. No loyalty whatsoever.
As Fido sits trying to catch his breath - blood dripping from his face - a van pulls up next to him on the sidewalk. 'Oh this looks familiar', he thinks to himself.
Two Columbians get out holding submachineguns with silencers, one of them is Fido's size, the other one is huge, a monster. 'This should be interesting.'
Both their voices are deep, throats like street tunnels. "Hey homes. What's up with you man." The smaller man pushes him realizing he's dizzy. Fido stumbles but doesn't fall down.
'Fucking pussies.'
"Don't you want to know why we're here?" the smaller man speaking again. "...What the fuck's wrong with him!"
"Aside from that crash all the way over there, nothin', he don't talk."
"Why the fuck are we here then?"
"The other two can talk and they'll want him back."
Fido had heard about these guys, two hitman hired by Augusus Armando to 'clean up' Liberty the Cartel were trying to take over again, and Fido was stuck in the middle along with the rest of the Mafia.
The bigger guy moves around behind him. Fido doesn't flinch, the man pulls Fido's hands behind his back, "Get'm get'm!"
The smaller man moves forward and Fido's foot flies up kicking him in the crotch. Fido uses all of his strength and leaning forward thrusts the larger guy forward slamming him on the street next to the other man. As the man gets on one knee Fido kicks him again, in the gut it knocks the wind out of him.
As he rises all the way Fido kicks him into a parked Voodoo, then starts blasting him with dozens of streetfighting punches. These fucking cowards were screwing with Fido and he wasn't about to stop struggling.
Fido sees a green flash and his face explodes with agony, burning and cutting, blood flowing from his face like niagra falls.
"WHAT MOTHERFUCKA'! YOU WHITE BOY BITCH! Kick me in the balls!?"
The smaller Columbian had hit Fido in the face with a beer bottle. Fido shifts around on the ground. Seemingly helpless the Columbians make their move.
The big Columbian lifts up Fido by his underarms, "Get his feet."
The smaller man grabs Fido's ankles and they start walking towards the back of the van.
BLAM!BLAM!BLAM!BLAM! The smaller man jerks backwards, dropping Fido's legs as the impact pulls him back ripping through his flesh. Fido points his smoking Desert Eagle at the bigger man's head, looking above himself.
Fido hits the concrete hard, electric charges shooting up his spine. He doesn't get a chance to fire. The Columbian brings a steel-toe boot down on Fido's whole face pushing in shards of broken glass. With his foot still there, he yanks on Fido's raised arm pulling the Desert Eagle from Fido's grasp.
"You one crazy mothafucker I'll give you that...but..." he says pulling another handgun from Fido's pocket, smiling, "I win."
He kicks Fido between the legs and tosses him inside the van. As the door closes, Fido is taken by a blackhole the van was dark, extremely dark. For the first time Fido thought he'd lost his touch, he could've taken them both. Now, here he was, in the back of a blacked out van heading to god knows where. Just another day in Liberty...