Tony Montana: Scarface Part 2
Dark Sploosh
Author's Note: Well, it has been forever hasn't it? Well, never fear. I'm not giving up on this story at all. I've just been real busy lately. Oh yeah, in case no one has noticed yet, one of my main inspirations for this story is the movies "Hard Boiled" and "The Killer", both directed by John Woo. Woo's gunfights are some of the best action scenes in cinema history, IMO, and I like to place such fights in my stories. Anyway, enjoy this next chapter...
Chapter 4: Mr. Bob
Tony walked over to the trapdoor behind the counter and opened it up. He wasn't going to bring a shotgun this time. Instead, he grabbed the 9mm handgun and three clips for it. He loaded it and slid it into his pants pocket. He also grabbed Danny's handgun off the shelf. It was a .45 semi-automatic. But what was real cool about it, and what Tony hadn't noticed when he was fighting Danny because of the dark, was that it was gold. It was one of the most badass guns Tony had ever seen, and he wished he had taken the other one, too. He loaded it and placed it in his other pocket, and finally reached for one of the Uzis in the compartment, loaded it, and slid it into the vest he was wearing.
"I'm ready, you need anything?" Tony asked Pablo.
"No man, I got my gun in the car."
"Right, let's go."
They left, Tony making special care to lock the door behind him, and they got in Pablo's car. Lying in the backseat was a big SWAT pump-action shotgun, the kind with the stock and shoulder strap.
"Where'd you get that thing, man?" asked Tony as Pablo started up the car and they left.
"Oh that thing? I got it off a dead SWAT guy last week."
"Fuck, you killed a cop?"
"Tony, man, c'mon. Not all of us have as many morals you do, chico."
Tony didn't respond. He just shook his head and stared in the rearview mirror.
"Tony, you want how much?" asked Alan incredulously.
"You heard me, Alan."
"That's a lot of grass and heroin, man. I mean, you're the coke king, right? Why do you need this stuff?"
"Are you gonna' debate what drugs I do and don't buy, or are you gonna' sell it to me?"
"Well, okay man. Hang on a sec."
Alan got off the stool he was on with some difficulty, and disappeared into a back room. He returned ten minutes later with two suitcases. He set them down on the table.
"This one's weed," he said, tapping the one on the left, "and the one on the right's heroin. Don't tell me what you need this much for, just give me the cash."
Tony opened the cases and checked them. It was good.
"Pablo, give him his money."
Pablo lifted the suitcase they had brought with them and set it on the table in front of Alan. Alan checked it, and a big evil grin spread across his ugly face.
"Thanks Tony, we have to do business again some other time."
"Whatever man. Let's go Pablo."
They left, Tony looking behind himself. After the stunt Alan had pulled at the docks, even if it was just a ruse to save their skins, Tony always looked back when leaving Alan's to make sure he didn't wind up with a slug in his back.
"This is it," announced Pablo as they pulled up to a big warehouse. They were near a military base on the outskirts of Miami. Tony was nervous about being so close to any place with the army nearby, so he his eyes darted around the empty parking lot as they neared the warehouse. There was a door on the outside, and they slipped in.
The warehouse was lit up like a Christmas tree on the inside. There were lights everywhere, making sure no corner of the warehouse was dark. At the far end of the mostly empty room was a desk. There was a man sitting in a chair behind it.
"Hey Pablo!" called the man. His voice was high-pitched, almost feminine. As Tony got closer, he saw why. The man was dressed in drag, with a long red dress, mascara, false eyelashes, long red nails, and pink lipstick hastily applied to his lips. He smiled at them and gestured for them to sit down at the two chairs in front of the desk.
"This fag's Mr. Bob?" whispered Tony out of the corner of his mouth.
"Yeah. I know he don't look like he was in the army, but trust me, this guy's got what we need."
They sat down, and Mr. Bob snapped his fingers. Two burly bodyguards in green suits walked out of a small room in the corner. They were both armed with AK-47 assault rifles. They stood on either side of Mr. Bob. Bob himself gave out a high-pitched squeaking noise and then leaned forwards in his seat, eying Tony in a way that made him very uncomfortable.
"Well well welly, Pablo honey. You didn't tell me that Tony Montana was such a cutie."
"He's not interested Bob."
"Oh, that's too bad."
Tony couldn't take much more of this. Mr. Bob seriously weirded him out. He wanted to get this deal over with as fast as possible.
"Bob, we've got two full cases here, both of 'em with the shit you like," said Tony quickly as he set the suitcases down on the desk. Mr. Bob checked them and then gave out a squeal of delight.
"Oh, this is perfect! I think I love you Tony!"
"Oh fuck this!" exclaimed Tony, getting to his feet. "Just tell us how many vests we can get for this shit, give it to us, and then we're out of here."
"Oh alright, party pooper," said Mr. Bob in a mock sad voice. "I'll give you maybe eighty vests for this here. I'm giving them away cheap."
"Fine, where are they?"
Before Mr. Bob could answer, a bullet shot into the desk, narrowly missing Tony's face. Instinctively, Tony reached into his vest, grabbed his Uzi, spun around, and fired into the rafter above. There was a scream, and then a body fell from above, crashing to the ground. The clatter of a sniper rifle followed him.
"Fuck, Tony, it's a hitter!" shouted Pablo.
"Goddamn, how do these guys keep finding me!" cursed Tony. Suddenly, a jeep burst through the wall, with at least six hitmen on it.
"Ah! Boys, get me out of here!" screamed Bob. The bodyguards grabbed him and disappeared through a door, locking it behind them.
"Fuck you Bob!" screamed Tony as he and Pablo hid behind the desk. Tony dove out and slid along the ground, firing the Uzi. He killed two hitmen, but the rest of the shots missed. As Tony came to a stop, he jumped up and rolled behind one of the supports for the rafters. They would have to kill the hitters to escape.
He saw Pablo get one with his shotgun, leaving only three. The Uzi was empty, so Tony dropped it and reached into his pants for the handguns. He dove out from behind, firing the handguns without really aiming. As luck would have it, one struck the jeep's gas tank, and it exploded, finishing the rest of the hitmen. However, the explosion set the warehouse on fire.
"Let's go Pablo!" shouted Tony, and they ran out through the hole in the wall the jeep had made. They got in Pablo's car and drove off.
"Fuck! How come nearly every deal I make ends this way! Miami's full of a bunch of fuckers!" Tony kicked hit the dashboard out of frustration.
"Hey man, don't take it out on my baby!" pleaded Pablo. Tony ignored him. He had lost the money, and now they didn't have the vests either.
"I'm gonna' find Bob and get those vests, even if it kills me."
"It probably will, man," warned Pablo.
Tony shrugged and started at the road.
End Note: Well, I'm finally back, and hopefully with a bang as well! Please RR!