THE CREW:

Amaya Kaida and Tony's limos pull up, in front of Tommy Vercetti's house. Slowing down, everyone had gotten a pretty decent view of the city from the drive over. After the plane ride, most weren't paying attention though. Tony sticks his middle finger on a button and leans his head out the window, lifting up his glasses. The peach concrete gate of the house was the first thing he noticed, complimented by palm trees and green grass. The sun glowing, reflecting of the limo.

"You gotta' be fuckin' shittin' me... Damn.... This is some nice shit. Alright, Everyone go do whatever the fuck you want. I'm gonna' go in here and talk to Tommy. I here he's got a bank heist planned. So you might see some shit go down. I don't know if you're involved or not yet. Just keep your options open. Amaya? Are you going with me or them.

"I'll go with you - Makoto and I. Lucio'll go with your men."

"Good enough."

Lucio gets out of the Limo that he was in, with Tony, Makoto, and Amaya. He knocks on the other's limo and 8-ball rolls down the window.

"What'do want man?"

"Tony wants us all to stick back, he's going to go in alone, and he says we can do whatever we want."

"Oh, okay I see..." 8-ball thinks for a second then looks up at Lucio, "What're you gonna' do?" he asks taking a chance to get a feel for Lucio.

"Uh, I know a couple places down here. The Malibu's a nice place, but it's kinda far from here."

"Malibu huh?"

"Yeah."

"Good place?"

"It is now, it's kinda nice, play good music, you know? You'd probably like it. It used to be kinda' stupid."

"A'right, I'll proll'y check that out bro, thanks."

"Hey no problem man."

As Lucio turns he slams into a man wearing Mafia attire. Only their suits had grey undershirts.

"Mr. Cipriani?"

"No."

"I was asked by Mr. Vercetti to tell Tony's men that their cars are parked."

Lucio scratches his head, then he leans his head over the mans shoulder, whispering in his ear, "What cars?"

The man pushes Lucio with his left hand, and with his right gestures in front of him, placed next to the sidewalk outside the Vercetti Estate are four parked cars.

A modern blue Banshee, a green eighties version, a black Sentinal, and a brown Blista Compact.

"Tommy gave us these?"

"For your stay here... sir."

"Tell him thanks." Lucio reaches in his pocket and fiddles around dragging out a wad of cash. "It's all I got but..."

"He won't take it."

"Really?" He says raising his eyebrows. "Well then, You can have it." He pats the guy on the chest and starts to walk away.

"No, I get payed enough as it is."

"You serious?" Lucio takes a good look at him, then sticks the money in his own pocket, "You really are serious. Damn, you motherfuckers must be makin's some good due. Shit, I'm about to get me some. Alright well I guess we'll be seein' you around doc."

The other Mobsters get out of the Limo and start towards their cars, Lucio runs for the Banshee.

'BLAM' a gunshot rings out and everyone ducks, except for Fido. Lucio turns around looking at Fido, who has his pistol pointed above his head, staring at him. Fido sticks the gun in his pocket then walks over to the blue banshee. Getting into Lucio's face, he opens the door to the Banshee, and gets into the driver's seat. Finally leaving him alone. The car starts up and Lucio goes around to the passanger side he gets inside and he's greeted with a gun in the face, he takes a breath and gets out, slamming the door he walks towards the others.

"Did you see that shit man, I thought he was going to fuckin' kill me."

"Maybe he doesn't like Forellis." Trent says.

"Tommy don't neither," 8-ball says, "he..." 8-ball slits his own throat with his fingers, "sshhkk... killed his motha'fuckin' boss, and you know that asshole was a Forelli."

"Yeah don't think nothin' of it Lucio. Fido just like's Banshees." Fidelio says. "You should have seen what he did to this guy who keyed it one time."

"What did he do?"

"Beat his fuckin' head in with a tire iron."

"Goddamn! All that shit over a car?

"You better believe it." Fidelio says getting into the Sentinal. He gets in the back seat, Lucio gets in next to him, and Trent and 8-ball take the front.

Trent puts his hands on the wheel. "Nobody's taking one of the other cars?"

"Are you shitting me?" Fidelio says, "Those cars are fuckin' ugly." he says, then mutters, "Goddamn Blista Compact..."

"Hey," 8-ball says, "Blista Compact's a good fuckin' car. Rob a bank with that shit, cop'll chase you down Little Havanna with a goddamn Infernus, son of a bitch still won't catch you. Handles like a Korean prostitute."

"Where, we going?" Trent asks starting the car. "Wherever it is I gaurantee that Fido'll follow. So make it a nice place."

"Malibu." 8-ball says.

"Malibu? We're not going to fuckin' Malibu what're you crazy!"

"No The Malibu you dumb fuck, It's this fuckin' bar Lucio told me about."

"Is it good?"

"I don't now, he says it is, but obviously I haven't fuckin' been there have I?"

"Okay well, The Malibu it is..." he says pulling the car into the road."

Trent, Fido, and 8-ball sit at one table, smoking cigarettes, and talking about American crime movies and whether they're accurate. Lucio and Fidelio sit at the bar, ordering drinks. Two guy walk up to Lucio getting in his face. They're both black guys wearing red, the Bloods had, been running through Vice City like a virus for a couple years. They had their sites set on taking out Tommy Vercetti's men.

"Where you from dog?"

Lucio just glances at him, then takes a sip of his beer. "Listen, guys, I'm not here to start shit, I could have gone down to some other bar for that."

"Well we're here to start somethin' with you. Where you from?" the other one says pointing at him.

"Liberty City."

"Liberty City? Goddamn I hear only pussies come from Liberty City dog."

"Hey!" Fidelio stands up from his seat, "Last time I checked, he wasn't your fuckin' dog..."

"Look at this shit homey, we got a fuckin' comedian over here. He might not be my dog, but I'll turn you into my bitch..."

"Sorry I don't swing that way motherfucker. - Tell you what I got an idea, I bet you..." Fidelio takes out his wallet, slides the money out cooly and starts to flick them off of each other one by one counting them, "five thousand dollars, that I can kick your ass in less than one minute."

"Man that's some bullshit!"

"Why's it bullshit, 'cause your gonna' get your fuckin' ass kicked like a schoolgirl."

"Alright fine..."

"What the fuck you waitin' for?"

"Waitin' on you."

"To do what? Sing and dance? I already told ya' I wasn't a fag."

"Take your glasses off."

"Take my glasses of -- fuck you okay? I like my fuckin' glasses, you prick."

The guy takes his first swing forward, and Fidelio ducks under it punching him in the stomach, then he slams his foot down on the back of the man's shin, knocking him on one knee he clocks him in the back of the head with his left fist, knocking him face first into the ground. Fidelio gets on the mans back and starts hammering away on the back of his head, then he stands up and kicks him in the right ear.

"Fuckin' bitch!"

The guy jumps up and slams a fist into Fidelio's crotch, he gets all the way up and kicks him in the stomach, all the while a small group of people in their area, had heard the fight over the music, and had crowded over to watch. The Blood takes the upper hand and slams a bottle over Fidelio's head, Fidelio falls onto the purple carpet, his glasses falling off of his face.

"I won."

Lucio, gets up, looking at his face you couldn't tell but he was angry, his shirt was covered dark, his drink spilled across his suit. He takes a good look at the Bloods on either side of him. He takes his glass and slams it into the face of the man on his left, the one who'd faught Fidelio. He slams his hands onto the other blood gripping his jacket, he pushes him towards the stage past some girls, he finally slams him into a the back wall of the place.

He punches him four times in the face then lifts him up off the ground, using his forearm to hold the man up by his throat. The Blood was bigger than Lucio, but he lifted him like it was nothing. He headbutts the Blood in the nose hearing it crunch, then he lets him fall to the ground.

Lucio takes a second to get a grip on himself, then he straightens up his suit. "Fucker."

Fido helps Fidelio up off the ground, Trent laughing "Man Fidelio that glasses thing was fuckin' funny man, I thought you'd let Sal's crazy shit get to you man."

Fidelio takes his index finger and flicks his glasses onto the ground, "Man fuck these glasses man!" he says stomping on them.

Everyone laughing, they leave the Malibu Club. Driving around touring through the City.

They drive through an area not too far from the Airport. They hear lots of noise screaming, shooting, sirens, and helicopters.

"What the fuck's going on?" Trent asks gawking.

"Liberty City bank's around here," Lucio says, "remember what Tony'd said earlier about a bank heist."

"Yeah?"

"This must be it."

They park outside watching, instantly the doors swing open, and a man in a blue cleaner's suit comes out, dark brown hair floating behind him as he runs, a 'Jason' mask strapped to his head, a Spas-twelve shotgun gripped in his hand. He bolts straight down the steps of the building, and to their amazement, he seems to have no problem running straight for the cops. They show incredible resilience, not firing a single shot. Instead the try to grab him, no one gets a good grip. The Jason mask wearing criminal jumps up onto the hood of a cop car and sticks the shotgun in an officer's face and pulls the trigger. Blowing his head to peices. This time the cops have no problem firing at him.

Luckily for him he doesn't get hit. "Who the fuck're you clowns goddamnit?" his voice is deep, raspy, and squeeky almost all at the same time. It fit with his personality, it gave him power and energy along with rugged and sheer violent nature, all of which applied to his actual personality.

"I'm -" Lucio says.

"I could give a fuck who you are just hurry up and get into the helicopter."

They glance over and see that a red Helicopter actually had landed not far from them.

"I'm not getting into that fuckin' thing they're gonna blow it out of the sky!" Fidelio says frantic.

"No they won't, these guys on the ground aren't that crazy it's the one's in the police copters you have to worry about."

They all get into the helicopter and it flies off with one officer firing rounds at them.

"FUCK YOU ASSHOLE!" The man says laughing, "He didn't hit shit."

"Tommy Vercetti?" Trent asks.

"That depends..."

"My name's Trent -"

"No that's not what I meant."

"You run things around here righ?" 8-ball asks looking out the window.

"Then no, I'm not Tommy Vercetti, at least I'm not the one you're looking. Chances are you're looking for my dad. He'll be back at our place talking to your boss."

"That's where we're going?" Fidelio asks him.

"Yep."