Opening to door to the outside, Max and Pierce were both surprised by the fiercely strong and cold winds that stuck them. In the small amount of time they were inside, Liberty City had been painted a shade of gray, the sun was nowhere in sight. Before the sky was as clear as water, but now it was nothing but gray with clouds, strong cold winds, and it started to rain. Before even getting to their car, the city became soaked with rain. What a day.
They got into their warm cruiser, now soaked, the rain was washing away the blood stains from the bodies. Thousands of tiny drops hit the ground in front of them, like bombs falling from the sky. The rain was pretty heavy, but died down a little bit as they neared the station. The roads were covered in large puddles of water, sliding down the slopes of Shoreside. It seemed like enough rain to create a small flood.
Everyone on the road had their lights on, which were blurred from the wet windshield, it was almost as if it was around seven pm. The warm heater was soothing upon Max's face.
They pulled up into the parking lot, and quickly made their way inside, to get out of the rain.
As Max and Pierce came in Leon walked past them, saying a short hi. Leon was shot in a gang shoot-out, in his left lapel. He recovered, and transferred from SFPD to LCPD, he has been single all his life, and still is. He is pretty tall, has long blonde hair, a quiet voice, and is very strong. He is a respected detective, and one of Max's friends. He passed by, walking outside.
"So any news?" Phil came around a corner and asked.
Max was surprised. He explained what they think is going on.
Phil nodded, and dismissed them. Phil was all of the family Pierce had left. He was in the army reserve, in Vice City, then moved to Liberty city after his brothers plane crash. He then started working at the LCPD, and became a sergeant after a few years. It was only a year later that he finally convinced Pierce to join the LCPD, and was partnered up with Detective Payne.
Max went back to his desk, upstairs. To wait. And investigate the Jack Crime Families' history in the LCPD headquarter database. He pulled up a file on the JCF.
Basically, it said: The Jack Crime Families assembled after the imprisonment of Joey Leone. Luigi, a former member of the Leone Crime Family, was later killed, because of him contacting Joey in the jail. The Leone Crime Families had ended there, and another leading member in the Portland Mafia, Connor Jack, formed the Jack Crime Families, along with help from the LCF former member, Toni Cipriani. Now the JCF has taken over in place of the LCF, now being the most powerful gang influence in Liberty City, and Carcer City as well.
Max sighed. He put his cup of coffee down. He knew what he was getting in to.
In Staunton Island, where the JCF had the least influence, and territory. A bright yellow Mean Streets Taxi cab pulled up to a large brown, triangular shaped apartment building across the street from Belleville Park.
Joey Leone, the last member alive with the exception of Toni ,of the LCF, got out and scanned the area for any Mafia soldiers. He wondered if they knew it had already been ten years.
He picked up his bag, and walked inside the building, him getting slightly wet because of the rain. The lobby was welcoming, a nice warm air, good smell, it was nothing like prison.
Joey walked up, wearing a blue jumpsuit, to the counter. The clerk stared at a tall, slim, very buff man with a black eye, and cut under his cheek, who stood in front of him.
Prison toughened Joey out. He had worked out almost every day in there, most of the Prisoners hadn't known that the LCF was over, and were afraid of being assassinated if they messed with Joey, so they left him alone.
Joey used what little cash he had to rent a room for a few nights. The most important nights of his life. After renting the room, he rigidly walked to the elevator. As he rode up to floor 4, an old man joined him for the ride.
The entire time, Joey had a bleak look in his eyes. He almost never blinked. Under that cover, anger inside him was mounting, for the past ten years it had been. Then when Luigi was killed, because he was helping Joey, telling him what was going on, Luigi ended up in a truck of a car, sinking to the bottom of the sea, when a patrol boat spotted the car, just before it sank.
Joey bit down hard, on nothing, and tightened his fist. As he walked out of the elevator, he punched the wall, creating a loud echo heard throughout the hallway. The short old man, back in the elevator, stared at him then took a step back. The elevator doors closed.
He continued past two or three people, and came up to room 097, his room.
As he opened the door, a small living room and kitchen appeared, a few windows showed a luscious view of the wet city, and the luscious green park. He walked into the small one-person bed room, and threw his suitcase on his bed.
He only had around one hundred dollars, and he knew that in no time, there would be a bounty on his head if he were to be seen by anyone who knew him. He needed to lay-low, get strapped, and figure out what he was going to do, although he already had an idea.
The on word that had corrupted his mind was: revenge. He wanted it, bad. Needed it. It consumed him. He had no chance at it, in this point of time. He knew that Toni was now with the JCF, from what Luigi told him seven years ago. He had no chance alone, he needed a partner. He needed help.
Joey turned on the small TV in the living room, upon a nightstand. A commercial about a haircut is on. "Old Reece is down with the new city, and better than ever. Visit him on 4th street, on Staunton Island today."
Good idea. He though. A haircut, new clothes, some makeup, 'a disguise' was what he needed. He needed one indeed.
Although he is short on cash, Joey is ruthless. He knew a way to make a quick couple hundred dollars. Downtown Staunton Island.
Joey returned to the street, bearing a dagger. Jacking a car was easy in Liberty City. He walked, hiding under a brown coat he had, to Bedford Point, deep in the heart of Liberty.
Parked along the streets were a pack of cars. The trashy ones were going to be easer to steal. The rain had stopped falling. Clouds gave way to the sun above.
Joey found a trashy brown Kuruma, where he stood waiting by it for a few minutes, monitoring the area, keeping his head down. He studied the passersby. None seemed to notice him. No cops were around, the time was good. He quickly made his way to the car, with his dagger, made it look like he was struggling with the key. He was keeping the coat over him and the dagger, so no one would notice. It finally came unlocked. He opened the door, and plopped in the passengers seat. A voice shouted out.
"Hey! Hey! That's a, my car!" It came form the crowd. A short black haired guy ran towards the car, holding his hands up, crying out, "Stop! Stop! My car!"
He was sprinting towards the car, trying to push his way through the crowd, Joey locked the doors, and quickly used his hotwiring skills.
The owner of the vehicle made it to the car, then was struggling with a large set of keys. Joeys heart began to pound, that old rush. Finally the car started up, Joey skidded out, leaving behind skid marks, covering a few passersby with water from the road. He drove over the large, newly painted Callahan bridge.
With no encounters, Joey made it to the car lot that was near the Leone mansion. He made a quick deal with the low-life owner, scoring a small, but still enough, seven hundred bucks.
As Joey walked away, he noticed some suits down the street. He took cover behind a small concrete wall, until they passed. The JCF. Joey hastily made pace back to Staunton, walking at a fast pace the whole way. It must have been around two pm, became the sun was shining brightly above him in the air, giving light to the city and drying up the rain.
With a fat wad of eight hundred bucks in his wallet, he felt accomplished. One step closer to his revenge. A long road lay ahead of him, and he was ready to take it.
Many people looked at him, with his black eye, giving him attention that he didn't want as he made his way to 4th street, where he would go in and get his cut.
Eventually, he arrived at a small shop, in Bedford point among the busy city. A large sign said above it, in bright red letters read "Old Reece's barber" Joey smiled and walked in, Liberty City getting warmed up from the sun, as he was too.
He entered to see five chairs, set up parallel to a wall with mirrors. The radio was blastin' loud and old Reece was doing his magic. After a short wait in line joy got his hair cut short, very short. During this time, he said nothing to old Reece, except that he wanted it short.
After it was done he was itchy, but satisfied with the results. He had already become a different person than before. His hair used to be pretty long, and gelled back, now it was short, and needed no gel. He paid the old man fifteen bucks, and exited the shop.
The next objective was to get strapped. He walked among groups of ignorant people, making his way towards the overrated gun shop called Ammu-Nation, past his apartment building. As he entered, an unpleasant smell offended him, but he ignored it, passing by the NRA freaks, and the crazy war veterans who were obsessed that the world was coming to an end, and end of war.
One was smoking a cigarette, Joey had taken up smoking in prison, which reminded him that he needed to buy a pack of those. After spending about five minutes browsing the weapon selection, Joey just picked up a Glock, and two clips, coming to around one hundred and fifty dollars. Pretty cheap.
He then exited, back into the busy, loud city. Right before his eyes, a man got hit by a taxi cab, reminding him of the old days. The old days when he worked with his father, the old days when Toni was one of his best friends, the old days that he wished could stay the same forever.
Ignoring the accident, and abandoning his thought, he walked down the street a bit, and entered a seven-eleven. Spending about fifty bucks in their, he bought a few beers, packs of gum, three packs of cigarettes, a lighter, and some hot pockets that he could cook in the microwave.
He exited the store carrying two bags full of food. He lit up a cigarette, and continued past various streets, to the apartment building he way staying at. He once again got in the elevator, and rode up to his floor. As soon as he was back in his apartment it was a little after five. He threw the stuff on the bed, and got out another cigarette. He laid down upon a couch, and watched TV. What was his next step now?
He still needed to get some new threads, but he would do that tomorrow, he wanted to rest, for the rest of the day. He opened up a beer, and eventually passed out, watching Prehistoric Park, on JBO.