A/N: This chapter contains very strong graphic violence. Discretion is advised.
Claude was sitting in a chair in the "green office" at Phil's army surplus. "So you're telling me, that the JCF leaders are heading to Las Venturas? Why the fuck… would they do that?"
"That's the thing," Tommy walked over towards Claude, pointing at him while using various hand gestures. "They, don't have any reason to go. I mean, they should have plenty of JCF members left up here. Or do they?" Tommy looked up, as if he were thinking.
"Well, what about the Mafia in Venturas? What if they really are running out of men, and are retreating to where they are the strongest? Huh" Phil suggested.
"That could be." Claude pointed out.
"I mean-what Mafia is down there? The Sindaccos right?" Phil shrugged.
"No-no-no-no-no," said Tommy, still using exaggerated hand gestures, "The Sindaccos, were wiped out years ago. I remember when I went to Venturas for my vacation back in July of 2005. Some… Grove Street guy took them off the map, CJ was his name, I think?"
"Tommy," Claude spoke, "Do you know of any other Mafia in that city?" Claude and Phil leaned closer to Tommy, waiting for an answer as Tommy scratched his head.
"I last remember the Leone Family… but we know they're gone." Claude and Phil let out a sigh of disappointment. "Oh! You know who would know though!" Claude and Phil jumped up, "Ken, Rosenberg. He was in Venturas just back in 2004, when the Leone Family Mafia was gone. He knows their gangs better than I do. On a 'business trip' I know because he got jumped and I had to go pick him up."
Claude let out his laugh. Tommy walked over to the door, "Hey! Hey Mario! Get Rosenberg in here!" Mario gave Tommy the okay sign. A fem moments later, Mario was at the door.
"Here he is boss." Mario walked off as Ken came in, everyone staring at him.
"What? What?" He asked, confused.
"Okay Ken," Tommy grabbed him, putting his arm around him, "I need you to think, back in 2004, who was running the Mafia down there?"
Ken looked at Tommy, "Fuck if I know, Tommy!"
"Ken, come on, you've gotta work with me here. Think! Think!"
Ken took a breathe and sat down, putting his hands on his head. "I think it was just a strand off of the Jack Crime Families."
"Really, do you know who was in charge down there?"
"I-I'm not sure, Tommy. I-I-I think it was…. Cruz? Yeah, yeah, Cruz. His first name started with and N… I think… Nicoletti.. Yeah, that's it Tommy! Nicoletti Cruz. And I think his right hand man's name was Padrino. Not sure though."
"Okay, thanks Ken. You've been a help." Ken left the room. It was silent for a second. "We need to book a flight. The same flight they're taking, that way we can keep tabs on them. I don't know where they are going. I'm not sure if they have the Caligula's Casino still."
Claude sighed, "Let's do it."
Slowly the day passed, the sun rising and setting while the people of Liberty wasted their day away. The weather changed, as if winter came early. Francis International Airport had to contact everyone who was scheduled for flight 250, from Liberty City to Las Venturas. Because of the weather alert, they bumped the flight up to eight ten am.
Max and Pierce were awake at five am, at Max's apartment. Out the window, the city's lights were blurry, and the sky was as dark as coffee. Frost had glazed the windows edges, making it cold to the touch. The radio said the expected temperature was twenty-four degrees Fahrenheit, for the afternoon.
The lights in Max's apartment were making it appear yellow, Max was moving back and forth from his living room and bedroom, packing his stuff while Pierce was watching TV, his stuff packed already.
Max walked out of his bedroom carrying a suitcase which he was putting on the couch, "Pierce, get me a cup of Hot Coffee, alright?"
Pierce moaned as he got up, dressed in warm pants and a nice brown leather jacket. After acquiring his cup, Max went to the bathroom and came out still drinking his cup of coffee.
"So Max, got yourself a girl yet?" Pierce asked.
Max glared into Pierce's eyes, finishing up his packing, "Hey Pierce, got yourself a girl yet?" he said, sarcastically.
Pierce put his hand up, "That's a low blow Max." He took a sip of his coffee.
"Then shut up." Max sat down next to him. "What are we watching?"
"The makings of the movie, 'Sex and Violence'"
Max lifted an eyebrow, "Sounds good!"
"Yeah sex and violence, the two things us detectives love, and only one we get." They laughed.
It was seven thirty-three, and an onyx black limo pulled up to the airport, followed by one sentinel. Four JCF suites got out of the sentinel, and the three leaders got out of the limo. They passed through the security, and they next thing they knew they were entering gate 07. First class, Toni and Connor sat next to each other, Stephen sat behind them, while they were surrounded by Mafia. Everyone in that area was dressed in black.
Max and Pierce were a little more back, in second class, sitting next to each other, Max in the aisle. Tommy, Claude, Mario, Phil, and Ken were all sitting in first class as well, in a different section and on a different side of the AT-400. Slowly the background moved as the plane headed down the runway. Slowly it drifted into the air, and before they knew it, the city was getting smaller as they gained height. They flew over Staunton and starting to turn, flying over Shoreside then heading southeast, towards San Andreas.
The flight was smooth, with very little turbulence. The plane flew over luscious landscape of the state called Liberty. Eventually the landscape disappeared, then they had three hours of water to fly over, which made Rosenberg very uncomfortable.
It was now almost ten am, almost two hours since they left Francis International, and since then the sun began to make it's daily climb into the sky, reflecting off the water brightly. Tommy scanned the sea, watching it below him move by in a repeating pattern.
"Ah crap." Stephen said, behind Toni.
Toni turned around and examined Stephen, who was getting out of his seat, "Somethin' wrong?"
"Restroom."
"Oh." Toni resumed watching the in-flight movie.
As Stephen walked to the bathroom, he found that it was occupied, and the next, and the next one and so on until he came to the last one on the plane. He hoped that it was vacant. As he neared it, he heard a noise. As he got up to the door, there was a bunch of moaning going on inside.
Stephen shook his head, making a face, "Ahh, come on! OPEN UP!" He banged on the door. The moans continued. "You've got to be kidding me!" He banged some more.
A flight attendant walked up to him, she was a short burnet. "Sir, will you stop banging on that door, when the person is done, they'll come out."
"You've got to be kidding me," he spoke fast and unclear, "you think there's only one person in there!" The moans were getting louder and faster. "Get them out."
"Eew, no!" she walked away.
"This is bullshit." Stephen whispered.
Meanwhile, Max was reading a book on the newest weapons, taking an interest in the LX-24 light pistol. It's twice as accurate as the Beretta, more powerful than a Glock (almost as powerful as a Desert Eagle), and it came equipped with a laser, and a silencer. Max wrote down the Ammu-Nation product number in his 'handy-dandy notebook' while Pierce was shaking his head up and down vigorously, listening to heavy metal while the old guy sitting to the left of him was looking at him.
"Hey look," Tommy pointed across the aisles to the other side of the plane. "It's those bastards." Claude shook his head in agreement, he was still reading 'Fame or Fugitive' They kept their heads low, keeping out of their sight.
Toni was still watching the movie, but got bored of it and took his headphones off. "Hey, Toni." Connor said.
Toni glanced at Connor, "Hmm?"
"Did I ever tell you about the time my dad (when he was still alive) when he took down that thieving bastard who tried to steal his samurai katana?"
"No."
1981, San Fierro, Under Gant Bridge, 10:23 pm.
"Go! Go! Go! Go! Go! Yeah! Do it! Hell yeah!" chanted a crowd down in the strip joint around a guy chugging beer.
Al (Connors dad), Connor (when he was only eight years old), Jizzy, and a few guards were upstairs in their offices. Connor was playing in another room, while Al and Jizzy were talking.
"Yes Jizzy, I'm glad we agreed to buy this place together. I really like it. I just have to ask, could we hire some stripper already? These college kids are… pissing me off. I mean, they're asses. And they're dumb. They're dumbasses."
"Yeah, it'll all be cool."
"So Jizzy, I was wondering." The talking continued as a man snuck by them in the hallway, dressed in black and in a ski mask.
When he entered Al's private quarters, he came out holding a rare, expensive, samurai katana Al had bought for ten grand. He rushed by the office they were talking in. Connor came running in, "Daddy! Daddy! Look it! He has your sword!"
Al looked down at Connor, putting down his drink, "What?" He ran to the hallway, sure enough, the guy was sneaking past guards. "Get him!" Al shouted, and the guards took pursuit. Connor stayed behind with Jizzy, as he saw his father run out of the room with a shotgun he picked up off of a rack.
Al ran ahead of the guards, chasing the masked man to the stairs. He took a few random shots that hit nothing but the chairs and wall. The group started down the stairs, going down to floor two. The chase continued through the back room offices, through hallways and downstairs. Al took a few more shots, each time getting closer and closer to hitting his target. Al was gaining on him, he dropped the sword, hoping that it would end the chase. Al still ran towards him. He slammed into the back door, pushing it open, he ran straight into a garbage can, making him trip and slid a few feet.
Al came up to him, Connor watching from a window above. He aimed the shotgun at the perps face and pulled the trigger. Click. Nothing happened. "Damn!" Al screamed, the man on the ground was cowering, in the fetal position. Al looked inside, "Hand me that bat!" A guard came running from the club, holding a bat.
Al took it aggressively, and looked down at the man, who wet his pants and was crying. With all of his might (and Al was a big guy), he smashed the bat into his side, crushing his ribs. With the next few powerful blows, blood started squirting out. Around hit number eight, blood was splashing out in a two foot radius, dotting Al's white shirt with blood. The man stopped whimpering and was unconscious. Al continued to hit his ribs, covering the area with splattered blood. His skin was torn open, and his insides starting to poor out, the entire time Al was cursing, "You stupid piece of shit," and "Bastard mother fucker!" etc.
Eventually he was almost in two parts, his guts slipping out in a large puddle of blood, but Al wasn't done yet. He stepped over the body and spit on it, then used the metal bat as a golf club hitting his face, after he pulled off his mask. With a few good whacks, his head was almost decapitated. He then continued to use all of his force to hit the head, crushing it, deforming it. When he was done, what was left was a battered and torn up, headless body. Al took the head and tossed it over the fence into the sea. He walked back over to the club rigidly and ordered, "Get rid of this mother fucking body."
What happened later was Al found an opportunity arising in Las Venturas, he said his farewells, and left San Fierro for Las Venturas. He kept his gang together until he was diagnosed with cancer, and sent Connor to Liberty. He later died and was replaced by Nicoletti Cruz, while the Mafia 'revolution' happened, and Connor Jack raised as the new leader of the newly renamed the Jack Crime Families.
The flight was almost coming to an end.