The man at the microphone looked up as he listened to the blasting music, and was quick to notice Kevin standing in the dense lights. Through the sound proof glass, Kevin saw him gasp in surprise, then quickly take his headphones off and leave the booth and entered the same room as Kevin.
"Well, I'm surprised you decided to come." Lazlow said.
Kevin went to shake his hand, but Lazlow completely ignored the greeting. Lazlow slicked his long blonde hair down a bit, then coughed into his fist nervously.
"So are you willing to do some stuff for me?" He said.
Kevin nodded, and without warning Lazlow grabbed him, pulled him into the control booth and closed the door behind him.
"There, no one will hear us behind the glass."
"So what do you want me to do?" Kevin said.
"Wait, let me make sure. You are the Leone hitman from Liberty City, right?"
"Well, I'm not exactly a hitman, and I'm not a Leo--."
"Dude, are you the guy from Liberty City?"
"Well, yeah."
"Alright, I just had to get that out of the way. Can't be too sure, you know."
Kevin sighed. "Yeah, I know."
"Well, you see, the manager of the station, Glenn, has been laundering some high profile money--"
"What? A radio station manger? Where can he get that kind of money?"
"I don't know, he's some Spanish dude. Affirmative action, you know."
"Yeah, alright."
"Anyways, he's been doing it through this new gang."
"What gang is that?" Kevin said, suspecting Vercetti.
"I dunno, I think they're from Colombia, some kind of card gang, but don't hold me to it."
Kevin sat back in the soft pleather chair, and crossed his arms, annoyed.
"Alright, whatever, anyway, I haven't been very up on my luck, if you catch my drift. My contact in their gang has helped to steal some of the laundered money."
"Now, I don't want to tell you where the money may be, you know. So my contact will meet you out front. Her name's Catalina."
Kevin looked through the window and saw a sleek white car sitting on the curb outside of the studio.
"Is that her?" He asked.
"Yeah, she wants to make absolutely sure I get someone to do this, so she parked herself out there. I think she's a bit paranoid, if you know what I mean."
"Where do you find these people?"
"Hey, I'm a rock station DJ, alright? I'm a celebrity. I can't be out stealing laundered money, so it makes sense to get someone to do it for you. That's a classic example of an idiosyncrasy."
"What?"
"Look, just do this for me I'll give you a reasonable percentage of the cash."
Kevin stood and left the room, leaving Lazlow to his airwaves. As the door shut and he left, Lazlow turned back to his desk and went to turn the microphone back on to announce the next song. He then realized that he had left it on the entire time.
Exiting the studio, Kevin brushed his hair through his finely tuned hair, and headed over towards white Rumpo van sitting across the street. Without warning, the door slid open, and he was pulled inside. A hood was shoved over his head, and he could feel someone holding him down in the back of the van.
Moments later, blinding light flashed itself back into his dark-adjusted eyes. The hood was pulled from his head, and he realized he was still sitting in the back of the van. He was forcefully pulled out of the car by two soft caressing hands, and thrown onto the ground. He slowly stood to his feet, and gained his bearings together. They were somewhere in Vice Port, a tanker ship loomed nearby to the east.
He blinked his eyes a few times, and realized he was staring into the face of an amazingly beautiful woman. Her dark skin reflected a Hispanic tone, and from her accent he guessed South American.
"Hey, you're the woman on the boat. Yesterday, at Starfish Island."
"You want to get dead? Just get your money and be happy." Catalina replied.
"So you're in this Colombian gan—"
"It's a drug cartel, not a gang."
"Right, and at the same time you're with those Sharks?"
"Hey, I gotta get by somehow. You'd be surprised how loose those Sharks are with money as soon as they see a woman for the first time in two years."
"You criminals down here are pretty organized, I must say."
"You are the guy for Lazlow now, right?"
"Yeah, do you have the money?"
"I figured that dork wouldn't tell you . . ."
She sighed, and began tapping her foot against the pavement annoyingly.
"Tell me what?"
She sighed. "So we got finished stealing the money, right? And we're making the trip to the original contact point,"
"Those amateur Cubans came out of nowhere, shot up our ride, killed a lot of men."
"You don't have the money?" Kevin said, shocked. "What the hell kind of organization are you? First you steal the money from your own gang, then it's stolen from you by a bunch of Cubans??"
Catalina forcefully grabbed Kevin by the collar, and threw him up against the side of the van. He felt it dent behind his back, and tried to fight back. He was surprised such a young girl had such strength.
"You better watch your mouth, boy. You screw around with me and you'll get Sharks and a Colombian Cartel on you."
Catalina's hissing demeanor slowly faded, and she abruptly kissed him strongly. She let then go of him and acted as if it never happened. Kevin knew Catalina was dealing in trouble larger than she could handle, working in two gangs. But from past experiences, she could apparently handle herself well.
"Well where are the Cubans now?" He said.
"So predictable, they probably ran off with the money back to their leader, Umberto."
"Well what are you waiting for," Kevin took his .45 out and chambered a round.
"Let's get the money."
"Well, I'm surprised you decided to come." Lazlow said.
Kevin went to shake his hand, but Lazlow completely ignored the greeting. Lazlow slicked his long blonde hair down a bit, then coughed into his fist nervously.
"So are you willing to do some stuff for me?" He said.
Kevin nodded, and without warning Lazlow grabbed him, pulled him into the control booth and closed the door behind him.
"There, no one will hear us behind the glass."
"So what do you want me to do?" Kevin said.
"Wait, let me make sure. You are the Leone hitman from Liberty City, right?"
"Well, I'm not exactly a hitman, and I'm not a Leo--."
"Dude, are you the guy from Liberty City?"
"Well, yeah."
"Alright, I just had to get that out of the way. Can't be too sure, you know."
Kevin sighed. "Yeah, I know."
"Well, you see, the manager of the station, Glenn, has been laundering some high profile money--"
"What? A radio station manger? Where can he get that kind of money?"
"I don't know, he's some Spanish dude. Affirmative action, you know."
"Yeah, alright."
"Anyways, he's been doing it through this new gang."
"What gang is that?" Kevin said, suspecting Vercetti.
"I dunno, I think they're from Colombia, some kind of card gang, but don't hold me to it."
Kevin sat back in the soft pleather chair, and crossed his arms, annoyed.
"Alright, whatever, anyway, I haven't been very up on my luck, if you catch my drift. My contact in their gang has helped to steal some of the laundered money."
"Now, I don't want to tell you where the money may be, you know. So my contact will meet you out front. Her name's Catalina."
Kevin looked through the window and saw a sleek white car sitting on the curb outside of the studio.
"Is that her?" He asked.
"Yeah, she wants to make absolutely sure I get someone to do this, so she parked herself out there. I think she's a bit paranoid, if you know what I mean."
"Where do you find these people?"
"Hey, I'm a rock station DJ, alright? I'm a celebrity. I can't be out stealing laundered money, so it makes sense to get someone to do it for you. That's a classic example of an idiosyncrasy."
"What?"
"Look, just do this for me I'll give you a reasonable percentage of the cash."
Kevin stood and left the room, leaving Lazlow to his airwaves. As the door shut and he left, Lazlow turned back to his desk and went to turn the microphone back on to announce the next song. He then realized that he had left it on the entire time.
Exiting the studio, Kevin brushed his hair through his finely tuned hair, and headed over towards white Rumpo van sitting across the street. Without warning, the door slid open, and he was pulled inside. A hood was shoved over his head, and he could feel someone holding him down in the back of the van.
Moments later, blinding light flashed itself back into his dark-adjusted eyes. The hood was pulled from his head, and he realized he was still sitting in the back of the van. He was forcefully pulled out of the car by two soft caressing hands, and thrown onto the ground. He slowly stood to his feet, and gained his bearings together. They were somewhere in Vice Port, a tanker ship loomed nearby to the east.
He blinked his eyes a few times, and realized he was staring into the face of an amazingly beautiful woman. Her dark skin reflected a Hispanic tone, and from her accent he guessed South American.
"Hey, you're the woman on the boat. Yesterday, at Starfish Island."
"You want to get dead? Just get your money and be happy." Catalina replied.
"So you're in this Colombian gan—"
"It's a drug cartel, not a gang."
"Right, and at the same time you're with those Sharks?"
"Hey, I gotta get by somehow. You'd be surprised how loose those Sharks are with money as soon as they see a woman for the first time in two years."
"You criminals down here are pretty organized, I must say."
"You are the guy for Lazlow now, right?"
"Yeah, do you have the money?"
"I figured that dork wouldn't tell you . . ."
She sighed, and began tapping her foot against the pavement annoyingly.
"Tell me what?"
She sighed. "So we got finished stealing the money, right? And we're making the trip to the original contact point,"
"Those amateur Cubans came out of nowhere, shot up our ride, killed a lot of men."
"You don't have the money?" Kevin said, shocked. "What the hell kind of organization are you? First you steal the money from your own gang, then it's stolen from you by a bunch of Cubans??"
Catalina forcefully grabbed Kevin by the collar, and threw him up against the side of the van. He felt it dent behind his back, and tried to fight back. He was surprised such a young girl had such strength.
"You better watch your mouth, boy. You screw around with me and you'll get Sharks and a Colombian Cartel on you."
Catalina's hissing demeanor slowly faded, and she abruptly kissed him strongly. She let then go of him and acted as if it never happened. Kevin knew Catalina was dealing in trouble larger than she could handle, working in two gangs. But from past experiences, she could apparently handle herself well.
"Well where are the Cubans now?" He said.
"So predictable, they probably ran off with the money back to their leader, Umberto."
"Well what are you waiting for," Kevin took his .45 out and chambered a round.
"Let's get the money."