Chapter 1: Something Wicked This Way Comes

Mercedes Cortez liked Tommy Vercetti. She liked his name, she liked his reputation, she liked his cock. Oh, no, she wasn't in love with him, that wasn't her style, but he was a good fuck, and good fucks were hard to find. Even the professional men at InterGlobal Films couldn't measure up against Vercetti.

Except... Mercedes grabbed at the dashboard as Tommy rounded the corner on two wheels. If only the man drove as well as he fucked, then she'd feel a lot safer to be contained in a tiny metal deathmachine on wheels with him.

"Goddamn idiot drivers," Tommy muttered darkly. Mercedes decided not to ask whether he included himself in that. Her daddy had always taught her to adhere to the law, whether on the road or on the waters, because disobeying the law attracted the policĂ­a and the Cortezes had enough trouble with them as it was.

Tommy raced past Cherry Poppers without a second look and took the corner with the tires screeching. A band of Cubans gathered on that corner started shouting when the Infernus made them dive out of the way, but shut up when they realized who the driver was. An honorary Cuban, Tommy enjoyed the protection and respect of Umberto Robina, Little Havana's loud-mouthed, courage-free bigshot. Mercedes didn't like Robina and she most certainly didn't like the way he looked at her ass. She could do far better than him.

"Shit!" Tommy threw the wheel over and hit the brakes, Mercedes bracing herself as the Infernus skidded toward a stop in front of a traffic accident. "Fuckers."

"Traffic accidents can be so inconvenient," Mercedes said, rolling her Rs because it would annoy Tommy when he was already pissed off. And indeed, Tommy glared at her as he headed on the road that led to Sunshine Autos. Whenever Mercedes accompanied Tommy on his revenues run, he'd always start at Sunshine's, and leave Cherry Popper's, which was about a block away, for last. He refused to tell her why, although she suspected it had something to do with the hag who was his manager-in-charge. She couldn't blame him. She scared her, too.

The Infernus hit a bump as Tommy steered it onto Sunshine's territory and several of Tommy's gang looked up, most of them frowning. Mercedes blinked. Why did they all look at them funny?

Tommy noticed it, too, and he met her eyes briefly before getting out. "Something's up."

As they climbed out the banged up Infernus, Del Jones, acting manager, came out and froze in his step, his mouth falling open. "B-boss?" he stammered.

"Yes?" Tommy drawled.

"Is... is something wrong?"

Tommy raised an eyebrow. "Nothing's wrong with me, Jones. You, on the other hand, and my compadres here, are acting very... let's say, suspiciously. What, you got a visit from the Feds?"

"No, no!" Jones denied. "No Feds. Not since last week, anyway."

"Good," said Tommy. "I'm just here for yesterday's revenues and then we'll be on our way."

Jones stared at him.

Mercedes kicked him in the shin. "Is there a problem?" she enquired.

"No!" Jones said, rubbing his shin. "I mean, yes! Yes, there's a problem and the problem is that you've already been here!"

"I what?"

"You were here! About an hour ago! For yesterday's revenues. You picked them up, growled at me, and left."

"The fuck's going on here?" Tommy demanded. "You're my first stop for the day!"

"I have been with Tommy all morning," Mercedes chimed in. "He hasn't been here yet. We haven't been anywhere yet."

Jones threw up his hands. "Mark! Hey, Delorentes, get your ass out here!"

Seconds later, Mark Delorentes walked out from the garage, wiping his hand on a cloth. "Hey Boss," he greeted, "forgot something?"

Tommy clenched his fist and Mercedes reached out to lay a hand on his tense arm. Nice muscles. "No, I did not. I have not been here this morning."

Delorentes blinked. "You picked up yesterday's revs?"

"No."

"But--"

"No."

Jones buried his face in his hands. There was a tense pause that Mercedes wanted to break, but Jones jerked his head back up. "Security cameras!"

Less than a minute later, Mercedes, Tommy, Jones and Delorentes stood squashed together around the desk holding the monitor in Jones' tiny upper office, their attention fixed on the view in front of them. Mercedes watched Jones pull out today's video and put in a clean one to continue taping while they watched. Next to her, Tommy was practically vibrating with impatience.

"Today's tape," Jones said, squatting down in front of the VCR. First there was snow, a flicker or two and then the driveway to Sunshine Autos appeared on the monitor. Muttering under his breath, Jones fast-forwarded a couple of hours. He banged a triumphant fist on the monitor. Disbelief mounting, Mercedes leaned forward as on the screen, Tommy Vercetti climbed out of a bright red Infernus wearing a bright blue Hawaiian shirt.

The real Tommy next to her glanced down at his shirt, then pounded a fist on Jones' desk before rounding on his manager. Both Mercedes and Delorentes were too late to stop Tommy from grabbing Jones' collar and smashing him up against the wall, the barrel of a Mac an inch away from his eyes.

"What the fuck's going on here, Jones?" Tommy barked.

Mercedes checked the date on the monitor. Today's, and yet she knew Tommy had not been at Sunshine's at 11.14 this morning, because they, alongside Ken, Lance and that irritating shit Steve Scott had been having a brunch at the pool at that time.

"This has to be faked," she said, paying no attention to the terrified squeaks emitting from Jones. Delorentes looked like he wanted to flee, but seemed to realize it would be a bad idea to run from a man like Tommy Vercetti.

"I swear to God, boss, it was you," Jones choked. "You know I've always been loyal to you, ever since you hired me. You were here, this morning."

"Go ask your men if you don't believe him," Delorentes added hurriedly. "They're always standing around here; they must have seen something."

Tommy jammed the Mac in Jones' neck, who closed his eyes in return. Mercedes saw his lips move. "I will ask. And if I think they're lying, I'll kill everyone here, starting with them and ending with you, Jones." With that, he released Jones and stormed out of the office. Jones silently slid down the wall. Mercedes sniffed. Pathetic little man. One little threat and he was shitting his pants.

"So tell me what happened this morning." She directed the question at Delorentes, as Jones looked like he was trying not to cry.

"Errr," Delorentes said, glancing at Jones. "It was just normal, y'know? I was doing some paperwork, Del was handling our sole buying customer at that time, the guys were downstairs fixin' shit up. And up drives Mr V. and Del comes into my office, says we're selling the Compact, and then he and Mr V. leave again to go to the office to get the money. I was done workin' just right before Mr V. left, so I saw him get in and drive away." Delorentes shrugged. "Nothin' unusual about it."

"And you're sure it was Tommy?" Mercedes asked. There were a lot of creative minds with a grudge against Tommy in Vice.

"Uh, I think I know what Mr V. looks like," said Delorentes. "It was him fer sure."

Mercedes glanced back the monitor and rewound to the right time, wishing there was a way to zoom in. But even from the camera's distance, she knew it was Tommy, from the familiar facial features to the Mac at his side to the way he carried himself. She drummed her fingers on the desk and squinted at the image. Something niggled at her brain.

It hit her. She sucked in a breath and pressed her face against the monitor. Tommy was right-handed, yet on the monitor, the fingers of his left hand occasionally brushed against the weapon as he walked. An imposter.

"What--?" Delorentes began, but Mercedes ignored him, rushed to the railing and hung over it, shouting for Tommy. When he came in again, white-knuckled, she told him what she discovered.

"Son of a bitch," Tommy said softly as they, again, reviewed the tape.

"Whoever it is looks a lot like you," Jones said. His voice was still shaking, but he was rapidly regaining his composure.

Abruptly, Tommy straightened up and strode away. Bewildered, Mercedes followed him and got in the car just in time, because he was already accelerating when she'd only had one leg in.

"Tommy?"

"I'm going to find him and then I'm going to kill him. Slowly."

"Who?"

Tommy finally looked at her. "My brother."