Tony Montana

Scarface: Part 2

Chapter 3: Darkness

Tony stood up and fired 2 blasts into the table when he was sure that Danny had paused to reload. Wood chips flew everywhere as Danny grabbed the suitcase full of coke that had fallen to the floor and ran out the door that his goons had come from.

"Let's go!" shouted Tony to Pablo, and they started for the door.

"Hey Tony!" Tony turned around to see Alan there again. "What do you want me to do?"

"Guard our coke, man!" he ordered. Then he ran through the door, followed by Pablo. And they found themselves outside, surrounded by at least ten more goons.

"Hey Tony, I like you," laughed Danny, who was there near a boat, "but I need some of that shit man, real bad." He turned to one of his goons. "You guys know what to do." And then he got in the boat with the coke and sped off, into the foggy night.

Tony was a little more concerned about their present situation. The guards all had handguns, Uzis, and one had a sniper rifle. The chances of Tony being able to shoot one and then get to a hiding spot were nonexistent. Suddenly, out from the shadows, stepped Alan. He was holding a small machine pistol, and pointing it at Tony and Pablo.

"Sorry guys, but I want to live," he said in a clearly frightened voice. He was shaking and sweating real bad.

"Fucking traitor," muttered Tony.

"It's nothing personal!"

Danny's goons, however, were confused.

"Listen, I'll pay you all twice as much as what Danny's paying if you all work for me!" Alan offered. Twice the pay was always good, and Danny's goons realized it.

"Now, lower your guns," he ordered. He still had his machine pistol trained on Tony, though. "I want to do this myself."

Slowly, they all obeyed. And that's when Alan quickly shot the nearest one in the back. As he collapsed, Tony and Pablo hid behind a forklift, and Alan ran off, shouting, "You guys owe me!"

"Quite the actor, ain't he?" shouted Pablo as the goons figured out what was going on and opened fire on the forklift.

"Yeah," replied Tony. He poked his head out and fired at one of the remaining guards, getting him in the chest. As he was blown backwards, Pablo joined in the fight as well, firing his handgun. Tony ran out from behind the forklift, firing. He missed, and jumped behind a crate. One of the goons managed to shot him in the arm as he ran, however, and he now winced in pain as blood seeped through his shirt. He looked back at the forklift, and noticed that it was carrying a crate labeled, "EXPLOSIVES!"

"Pablo, look out!" shouted Tony, and he fired as his friend got out of the way. The shot hit the brake holding the forklift in place, and it started to roll towards the goons. A few got out of the way in time, but the rest weren't so lucky as the forklift hit a bump and fell over, and the crate fell with it. Tony fired at the crate, and it blew up. The forklift, along with a few goons, was lifted into the air. It came crashing back down with a loud scraping noise, and then the fire caught onto the rest of the crates nearby. Soon, the whole boathouse would be on fire.

"Pablo, you go back to the safe house and wait for me!" shouted Tony.

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm getting our shit back."

Tony hopped into one of the speedboats there and turned it on. He flipped on the fog lights and then sped off. If Danny was going anywhere, then it probably would have been one of the stilt houses out on the bay. Tony turned for them, and drove on. About a minute later, he saw the silhouette of the floating wooden buildings through the gloom. And he spotted Danny's boat, parked by one of them. Danny was getting out, and there were more goons with him. He turned and saw Tony coming, and ran off, up the stairs and into the house.

There were two goons standing on the small pier there, each with Uzis. As they fired, and bullets bounced off the dashboard of the boat, Tony went as fast as he could, aiming right for the pier. And when he hit it, the boat was launched into the air, over the pier. He hit one of the goons, plowing him underneath the boat where he was crushed. As the boat came to a stop on the wreckage of the pier, Tony spun and fired a shotgun shell into the remaining goon. He was lifted into the air and into the water. But he had dropped his Uzi on the pier. Tony took it and put the shotgun away.

He ran up into the stilt house, and was greeted by a handgun blast from Danny which barely missed his head.

"Dammit, Tony! Can't you die?"

Tony fired back at Danny, who was hiding behind a small shelf. A few bullets ricocheted off the metal shelf, but one hit Danny in the gut.

"Fuck!" he screamed, and then he picked up the shelf. Using his steroid induced strength, he tossed it at Tony. Tony had to leap out of the way to avoid it as it came down and blocked off the exit. Tony turned back to fire at Danny, but he had run out through another door.

Tony followed, and found himself outside again. Standing below the small balcony he was on was Danny, firing his handguns like there was no tomorrow. One went into Tony's leg, and he screamed, falling to the floor. Tony fired the Uzi until there was nothing left in it. Three bullets struck Danny in the chest, and he dropped one of the handguns. But in his drug-induced state, he was still going. He had set down the briefcase earlier, and he now picked it up and held it in front of himself like a shield.

"Tony, this is six keys right here! This is a lot of money, man!"

Tony paused for a second. But that was all it took for Danny to fire the other handgun. Unfortunately for him, he missed, and Tony retaliated by drawing his shotgun and firing the last shot. The pellets spread and went through the brief case. They all entered Danny's head and chest, and he fell backwards. As he landed in the water with a splash, the briefcase came open, and the coke spilled into the bay. The water turned red and white. The yeyo was lost.

"Shit!" shouted Tony. He stared at Danny's bobbing corpse for a few seconds, and then grabbed one of his handguns. He decided to keep it as a trophy.

An hour later, Tony showed up at his safe house. He stumbled through the door, bleeding and broken. Pablo was there, and he ran over to Tony.

"Jesus Tony, you okay?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine man," he lied. "Just get me some coke."

Pablo got some from the key that Tony had kept for himself, and gave it to Tony. He snorted it, and then told Pablo to get a knife.

"Why?" he asked even as he got a blade.

"I think there's a bullet in my leg. Cut it out." He gritted his teeth for the pain.

Pablo wasn't a medical expert, but he had done this a few times. On himself, anyway. He bent over and cut into the bleeding area on Tony's right leg. He could hear Tony wincing, so he worked faster. He found the bullet, and pulled it out. He quickly reached into his pocket and pulled out a roll of bandages. He fixed up Tony's leg, and then after Tony rested for awhile, he turned to Pablo and asked, "Why do you carry bandages in your pocket?"

"I get shot a lot."

1 month later...

Despite the loss of so much coke, Tony used what money he had made from Alan to fix up his safe house. He bought a couch and a TV, and a small refrigerator. He got one of Pablo's friends, who didn't have a known criminal record, to say that he had bought the safe house and was paying for the electricity. Tony sent him enough for the bill every month.

Word had spread quickly in the underworld that Antonio Montana was alive and kicking. Tony soon got offers from hundreds of crooks, small and large, some he knew some he didn't, to work for him. And bingo, he had an army.

It was one night as he was lying on his couch, watching "Miami Vice", that he had gotten the idea for a checklist. He had a small pad of paper in his left hand, a blue ballpoint pen in his right. This is what the list looked like right now:

Killing Sosa

Get money, check

Get weapons, check

Get army, check

Get bullet-proof vests (a lot of them)

Get planes

Get a better fuckin' safe house

As Tony sat and thought of other things to add to the list, he heard a knocking on his door. He reached into his pocket and drew his handgun, and walked over to the door. He stood to the side of it.

"Who's there?"

"Tony, it's Pablo."

Tony put the gun away and opened the door. Pablo walked in hurriedly, shutting the door hard behind him.

"Tony, I got a sweet deal. Listen, we ain't got no coke anymore, right?"

"Yeah, so?"

Pablo opened up the fridge, took a beer, and saw down on the couch.

"Why are you watching this shit, Tony?"

"Hey, fuck you Pablo. It's a good show."

"It's about cops. Our enemies, chico."

"Man, Sosa's our enemy. Cops are like the wolves, man. They aren't ever your enemy until you piss them off. Or break the law."

"Big fuckin' deal."

"Plus, I won't kill no cop."

"I will."

"Well, that's you. So what about this "sweet deal?" Tony said the words in a mocking impression of Pablo's weird Spanish accent.

"Fuck you, Tony. Listen, we need body armor, right?"

"Yeah man. Like, a few hundred vests."

"Well get this. This guy, I don't know his real name, he just calls himself Mr. Bob, and-"

"What the fuck? Mr. Bob?"

"Yeah, so anyways, he has an entire warehouse full of vests, man. He like, used to work for the army, or something. And get this, he doesn't want any cash for them."

"What's he want then? Drugs?"

"Bingo, man!"

"We don't got no yeyo now, man."

"I know that, but he don't want no yeyo. He's got it for the two other members of the triad. Heroin and grass."

"Well we don't got any of those, either."

"You don't, but Alan does. I figure that we should go pay him a visit, get some of that shit, then get over to Mr. Bob and get the vests."

Tony considered it for a minute. Alan would definitely charge them for the drugs, so they would be losing money to get the vests anyways. Finally, he muttered, "let's go man."

Author's Note: Well...I don't have much to say except R&R!