Chapter 6: No Turning Back
City Cab Service Garage
"Tea time!" Robert called.
It was 3 p.m. on a cool autumn day…what passed for autumn anyway. The morning shift was already over, but the mechanics had maintenance duties, and the drivers had paperwork to do. The garage was occupied with four taxis, plus the whole afternoon shift. The men scurried about, hoping to finish their jobs before dinner. Andy, in particular, was counting his cash and ensuring that it tallied with the meter.
Andy turned to his boss. Robert was at the far end of the garage, behind a table laden with cups of strong dark coffee and tea, along with a bag of assorted snacks. He never asked his employees to pay for them, despite their offers, and everyone generally agreed that he made the best coffee and tea in VC. Except for professional chefs, of course, but no one ever said that to his face. His head was small enough; no need to deflate it.
"Umm…hello?" a voice called from the entrance.
Andy turned, along with several others.
"Is Andy DiMilo working here?" Christine DiMilo asked.
"Yes," Andy replied, turning to her.
"Boss, may I speak to him for a while?" she asked the crowd. Robert nodded.
Andy walked up to her.
"What is it?"
"Please…for your brother's sake, please leave Vice City. He hates you right now, thinking that you were responsible for your father's death. The police and the FBI are going to crack down on organized crime very soon in VC. If you're not here, you won't get arrested."
She was right, at least about him being responsible for his father's death. If he didn't join the Mob in the first place, this wouldn't have happened. It wasn't the shooter's fault; he'd only been doing his job. The guy who ordered the hit did so only because Andy was a player, and his father can be used as leverage. If Andy hadn't been in the Mafia, his life would have been…what? Better? More like different.
But then…
"If I stay here, I can prove to him that there's no turning back for me. I want to lead a simple, honest life, okay? I've had enough of the Mafia. Hell, I've come clean; he just doesn't want to admit it."
"But…Tony still—"
"I know. I'm through being a Made Man. It's over now. He has to wake up to that fact."
"I—"
Several black Sentinels drove up to the CCS building, blocking off the entrance. Four gangsters to a car exited their vehicles, and lined up in front of the buildings. Robert walked up to Christine.
"Chris, get out of here from the back door." Andy muttered.
Before she could react, Robert grabbed her arm and led her to the back door.
"Good afternoon!" the gangsters greeted, bowing as one.
It used to be a Triad custom. Tommy Vercetti brought that over to his gang, saying that the Mafia is all about respect, and this is basic courtesy, which is related to respect.
Andy turned away to his car, looking busy for the visitors' benefit. Not that it mattered.
One of the gangsters walked up to Andy, a new-fangled cell phone in his hands. It was one of the latest models, but it still looked and resembled an oddly shaped water bottle. That was the only thing Andy could think of as the gangster approached.
"There's a call for you, from Mike. I'm sure you know which Mike," the gangster said, extending the cell phone.
Andy scowled. Now what? Hadn't he already made it clear that he didn't want to have anything to do with the Mafia?
Andy turned around, and grabbed the cell phone from the gangster's waiting hands. He brought it up to his ear.
"Andy DiMilo."
"Andy? It's me, Mike. I want to talk to ya about business in my office."
"I'm not free."
"It's about your brother."
Damn it.
"When?"
"As soon as possible. By the way, Nick's with me too."
Michael DeFrantz's Office, some time later…
Mike ran Tommy's empire out of an office building he had purchased. He had convinced Tommy that it was not a good idea to do business at home, especially since the Vercetti Estate was so grandiose. Tommy had said that if Mike wanted to while he was in charge, he could use a spare office, but Tommy Vercetti won't do that. After all, if the cops or rivals come, then let them come and to hell with them, Tommy Vercetti isn't afraid.
Mike was more sensible than that. The office building had better security than the Vercetti Estate, and it was more comfortable knowing that your subordinates know that they cannot slack or cheat on the job. The boss was watching them, after all.
Three men sat at Mike's table. Four more stood around the table, ready to react in case something went wrong.
Andy was sitting next to Nick, still dressed in his overalls. However, Nick had managed to get them dry-cleaned, and was wearing his old duster overcoat again. Mike was dressed in his best blue and white business suit, with a blue tie.
Nick reached into a pocket, and removed a cigarette, placing it between his teeth.
"Need a light?" Mike asked, holding up a gold plated lighter.
"No thanks," Nick replied, lighting the cigarette with a matchstick from another pocket. Why should he let that slimy son of a bitch do that for him? Doesn't he know of a word called 'honor'?
"Andy, Nick, I've got a proposition for you. I want the two of you back together. We can be a team, you know? Nick, you may be crippled, but I still respect you, still respect your abilities."
Nick kept himself from laughing the cigarette out of his mouth. Respect? Bullshit!
"Look. We can work together, earn millions together, hell, really take over VC. Andy, your brother's a cop, right? Can you arrange—"
"I refuse."
"Why?"
"I have honor. I know what is shame. I told everyone that the deal three years ago would be my final job! I am a man of my word! I will not break it for anything! How can I face the world if I rejoin the Mob? How can I face my brother!"
"Andy—"
"I'm not done yet! Nick's still my friend. You'd better show me that you mean what you said, about respecting him! Don't ever ignore him!"
Andy slammed his fists hard on the table, prompting the bodyguards to reach into their coats. Andy didn't notice, and Nick didn't care. He still liked showing an air of sang-froid.
"If you ever get my brother involved in the Mafia, if I hear that you reach him, I swear I'll personally come in here, personally kill everyone who stops me, and personally blow you away! Understand!" Nick screamed.
"Yes," Mike replied, cowed.
"Nick, let's go."
Nick nodded, and the two men left the office.
Mike sat in his chair. When the men left, he reached for the telephone on his desk.
Meanwhile, at VCPD HQ…
There was a similar meeting, only this time, it involved four men on the right side of the law, and were all enforcers of it. The police chief, Zachary Ames, was sitting behind his desk. His office was decorated with the Star Spangled Banner and Florida's state flags, and several boxes of paperwork took up the floor around the desk. The desk itself was clear, save for a telephone.
Ames was what people would call an OWG, Ordinary White Guy. He was so ordinary; no one would be able to pick his face out in a crowd. Before his new job, he was a chief of detectives, and he did it so well someone decided to kick him up to his current post. He didn't like the paperwork, but at least now he'd be able to do something about the plague of organized crime.
He had three visitors, one from Tallahassee, one from the Florida FBI field office, and one from the local Secret Service department.
The one from Tallahassee spoke first. He was Detective Chia, dressed in his all-black ensemble again. No one knew whether Chia had anything other than black clothing. He placed an attaché case on the desk, and opened it.
"Do you remember the Shanghai Inn slayings in Tallahassee three years ago?"
Ames nodded.
"Good. Based on our investigations, we have reason to believe that one Nicholas Caruso, currently a resident of Vice City, is responsible for the shooting, though my superiors think that it's impossible, despite how much I convince them."
Chia removed the papers in his attaché case and laid it all out on the table. They amounted to four sheets of paper, all containing information about and photographs of Nicholas Caruso, possible Made Man and definite mass murderer.
"I have been sent here to locate and arrest Caruso, as well as any of his accomplices in Vice City. My superiors have told you this last week, no? Since he is a suspected member of the Vercetti gang, and that my case overlaps with this, I have been told to cooperate with you as much as I can."
Ames nodded, and extended his hand. As far as he knew, Chia was the ideal, everything a cop could be. His success rate was the highest of all the detectives in the Tallahassee PD, and he once turned down a bribe attempt by the local Mafia…then immediately arrested the man sent to bribe him. That guy was locked away; Chia made sure that he had witnesses to watch the 'deal', and a covert tape recorder to record the conversation. He was one sneaky son of a bitch.
"Good to have you aboard."
"I am Richard Grant, the SAC (Special Agent in Charge) of the Florida FBI field office. We're here to help you in your crackdown, especially directed against Thomas Vercetti. My best LCN (La Cosa Nostra; the FBI does not use 'Organized Crime' officially) squad is flying in tomorrow, and they'll be at your disposal. They'll report to me, of course, and I'll brief the Director personally on this. He's taking…special interest, after Vercetti had gunned down several FBI agents and escaped. Vercetti is wanted for a number of Federal crimes, namely eighteen counts of murder of government agents, one count of bank robbery, fifty counts of larceny, twenty counts of grand larceny, and eighteen counts of conspiracy to commit Federal crimes, just to name a few. We also believe that he owns dozens of illegal firearms, but that falls under the jurisdiction of the ATF (Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms)," Grant reported from memory.
And the ATF representative called in an hour ago to say that his flight was delayed until the next day. The plane had a hydraulics leak, and there was no other available.
Grant was one of the last few men in the Federal Bureaucracy of Investigation who cared about getting things done instead of licking his superiors' boots and doing tons of paperwork that amounted to precisely nothing.
"Nice to know we finally have Federal assistance," Ames said, shaking Grant's hand. Ames had to wait for three weeks before the paperwork was finally processed.
The DC visitor spoke up. He was a black man named Carl Steele, dressed in a formal business suit. Like Ames, he had nothing that could mark him, and like Ames, soon became one of the best undercover cops in the business. Only, Steele was no ordinary cop.
"Chief Ames, Carl Steele from the United States Secret Service. I'm the guy they sent in to help you out. We know that Vercetti is forging money in an apparently deserted printing press, but we need proof of that. Once we have it, we can move in and shut the press down. We can also add multiple counts of counterfeiting and conspiracy to counterfeit money to his long list of crimes."
Pleasure to work with you, Mr. Steele," Ames said, also shaking his hand.
"Okay," Ames said, "my guys have worked out a plan, but I need your input. If we can pull it off, we can give you the whole messy package, and throw Vercetti behind bars for life…or worse. Detective Chia, don't worry so much about Caruso; I've one of my best men on his case. I'll assign the two of you to work together…if I can reach him. He's not answering my calls, probably because he's undercover right now. Anyway…here's the plan…"
Ames outlined the VCPD's next course of action. Steele, Chia, and Grant modified some aspects of the plan, commenting on it occasionally, before they were satisfied.
"Okay gentlemen. The beginning of the end starts now."
Author's note: I'm back. Sorry if it took so long and that the chapter is so short: I had important things to attend to first. As you can see, I've revised the entire story, changing names and some minor details. I've kept most of the dialogue, but I had to modify it somewhat, since the story is in America, not Hong Kong. In the movie, Andy and Mike had a private discussion somewhere in the middle. That was when Andy spoke about Nick and respect. I had to modify it, since no boss would allow himself to enter an empty conference room, with only a visitor for company. Also, an Interpol agent took the place of the FBI and USSS representatives in the movie in the final scene, and the chief didn't have a plan at that time.