I sit at the conference table, on the only day I have ever been early for work. Gator sits across from me, visibly shaking, his head in his hands. The double doors crash open, jolting us to our feet in a mix of fear and anger. It was just Phil.

"Okay, guys. I scored us some quality merchandise." He hauls a box up onto the table. "Take your pick."

He breaks the lid off the crate and I peer inside. "This is the biggest load of weapons I've ever seen!" shouts Gator.

"Yeah, look at this stuff! 9mms, Ak-47s, Tec 9s, where did you get all this stuff?"

Phil looks shifty, "None of your business! Oh, Gator, I have something special for you." He picks a sniper rifle from the bottom of the box. "You wait up on the roof, and cap anyone you can before they get in the building."

Gator pockets a 9mm and takes the sniper rifle, before making his way up to the roof.

"Okay, you and I, kid - all out attack. Take up a safe position somewhere, and shoot the hell outta anyone that walks through those doors. Now! They could be here any minute."

A shot is fired, near Phil's foot, causing him to jump.

"Or maybe," a voice says, "They're already here."

"Toreno! Where are you? I'll kill you!"

"Oh, I will be making an appearance," says the voice, calmly. "Once you are all DEAD!"

I follow the sound of laughter, under the conference table, where a bug has been planted. Another shot is fired, and a man, clad in a black suit, with a black tie and black sunglasses tumbles from a balcony, and lands on the table, smashing it into pieces.

"DAMN YOU TORENO!" screams Phil. "THAT TABLE WAS EXPENSIVE YOU BASTARD!" He grabs an Ak-47 and dives behind some empty boxes, red with rage.

I pocket a couple of Tec 9s and grab another Ak-47. I find a safe looking area behind some metal containers, and peer around the side anxiously. There is the sound of a car driving outside, and a black Admiral car skids to a halt in front of the building. Four men, dressed in the same outfit as the sniper get out from the car, and walk towards the door slowly. Another shot is fired, and one of the men falls to his knees. Without even glancing round, the others continue to the entrance.

"THIS IS FOR MY TABLE!" cries Phil, as he leaps on top of the boxes. "I'LL KILL YOU ALL!" He unleashes a barrage of bullets, making short work of the first wave. He returns to his hiding place, breathing heavily. That must have been some table, I think to myself.

There is a crackling noise, and then a voice. "Guys, do you read me?"

I pick up the walkie talkie. "Yeah."

"You all right? I heard shouting."

"It's fine. Phil was just avenging the loss of his table."

There was some laughter. "Uh-oh. Here comes another wave, guys. This time there's three cars."

Phil takes his receiver. "Try to aim for the drivers, okay? Take em out before they get too close."

"Gotcha." There is some more crackling, and Gator's voice fades away.

I hear shots being fired, and glass smashing. One car rolls up. The driver door eases open, and a body fall out, lifeless and limp. I hear another shot, and the car ahead goes up in flames. The voice crackles back.

"Hey guys, I missed the passenger, but I hit the gas tank by mistake."

The men exit the vehicle flailing wildly as the fire burns at their skin. Eventually, they are brought to the ground with the lack of oxygen, and suffocate. The other two carloads drive up the path. One man leans out the sunroof, and shoots upwards, toward the roof. I hear some cursing, and see Gator's rifle fall in front of the man.

I pick up the walkie talkie. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he winces, "he just got my arm."

"You alright to fire a gun?"

"I don't know, man, but I can still keep a look out."

"Good."

About a dozen mafia men amble through the entrance. Phil chances his luck and fires over the top of the boxes. The men spot him instantly , and produce their own assault rifles. I look around, for something to do.

"Phil. . .don't hate me for this." I aim at the barrels of explosives near the door, and empty a clip into them. They explode, leaving a trail of flames across the doorway. "That ought to hold them back, at least."

"My. . .My Factory!"

"You can kill me later, Phil, unless these guys do it first! Follow me."

Leaving the goons on the other side of the wall of fire, I lead Phil to the stairs, and we climb. Nearing the top, I contact Gator. "We're coming up. It's too dangerous down there."

"Um. . .I wouldn't come up if I were you."

I open the roof hatch and look out. I see Gator backed into a corner, and a helicopter hovering to the side of the roof.

"Toreno!"

"Nice of you to make it." says Phil. "I thought you would be too old for all this "childishness". Remember when we were in 'Nam, and you told me about you wanting to go to medical school, and not be a soldier anymore? Remember I stole that plane for us, so we could get out of there, and you pushed me out before take-off?" He turns to me. "That's how I lost my arm, kiddo. 'coz of this jerk."

"What a load of bull," smirks Toreno. "You lost your arm in '86, playing with explosives."

"Whatever. The point is, I got you a second chance. And you blew it. And now, you wanna kill me? Us?"

Toreno pauses, taking this all in. Then finally, hey says, "Yep." He tosses a molotov cocktail onto the roof and slowly ascends in the chopper. I feel the hate, the anger, the aggression build up inside me. I run. I run through the flames. And I jump off the roof, catching the landing gear of the helicopter, as it takes off. I look back to see the amazed looks on my comrades' faces. Silently, I pull myself up. Toreno, and his driver are sitting in the cockpit. I creep up to Toreno, put my arm around his neck and my gun to his head. I drag him backward, to the open helicopter door. The driver reaches for his gun, but Toreno waves frantically at him to stop. We reach the edge, I club Toreno with my gun, and toss him out. His unconscious figure falls into the ocean. I pace over to the driver. And shoot him point blank, spraying blood all over the windshield. I carefully move the body, trying to touch it as little as possible. I sit in the seat, and using everything Toreno taught me about flying, take the chopper back to the Ammunation roof, where Gator and Phil are waiting.

"Where's Toreno?" questions Phil.

"Sleeping with the fishes. Want a helicopter? It's yours if you clean it."

"Wait! You killed Toreno?"

"Yeah, well. . .you know." I say, showing no modesty whatsoever.

We all go inside, to rest.

I turn on the radio for the news

" "And now the stories gripping the country.

Disgraced CIA agent Mike Toreno is dead. This time we have a body to prove it. Richard Burns is on the scene."

"Thanks Leanne. Mike Toreno is dead. And this time, we have a body to prove it. Back to you, Leanne in the studio."

"Thanks Richard for that completely irrelevant broadcast. And now a word from Donald Love, who will be running for mayor in the upcoming elections."

"I know what it means to be in charge. I know what is best for this town. I know what is best for everyone."

"But what about the people who say you can't be trusted? I know you abandoned Liberty City years ago, leaving Love Media and all of it's stockholders to rot."

"Yes, I left Liberty City. But what sane person wouldn't? I had my reasons for leaving, and it was hard on me too. But now, I am making my comeback, right here, right now. YOU CAN'T STOP ME."

"Powerful words. Powerful words, from a strange man. And now over to Maurice, in his garden. . ."

Life is sweet.

A/N: This will be my last update for a little while if anyone cares (Nothing says "I care" like reviews!), as I'm going to work on a new short story idea. It shouldn't be too long before I update, so don't forget about me!