Concrete Jungle

by Onkwehonwe Kashatstenhshera

A cartel hitman, an ex soldier, a wayward gunmen with no cause, an ex KGB agent, & a familiar family oriented coke addicted thug find their way to sunny LS finding themselves around similar scum. Immoral car salesmen, low life bangers, king pins, & hackers. When an eventual rift in the friendship divides their destinies, alliances shift & none of them will ever be the same again.

71. United States Of Apathy

Los Santos

Lil King's eyes were blinded by tears as they buried his mother. His bullet wounds were still raw with pain but they didn't compare to what he was feeling in his soul. He didn't even know if the pain killers the doctor gave him would be enough. It was an underlying problem in America that for whatever reason white doctors didn't think that blacks or brown people for that matter felt the amount of pain whites did. Though most of the staff at Central LS Hospital were not white, still he'd heard of people giving less pain medication for the needed amount to sooth the pain. H Bomb either sensed this might happen or he had been hrough it himself enough to be suspect of hospitals so the Muslim from 165th street Families had given him a free bottle of strong pain killers known to knock you out too. He hadn't taken any yet.

His sister, dark skinned and pretty normally with a bright smile was sobbing too. He had told her that he planned to leave the neighborhood and he was leaving all but 15 grand for her to go to college. He ewas going back to New Arcadia. He had told Big Sway and H Bomb about his plans to leave and the two brothers understood. He couldn't tell Lamar or anybody else from CGF or Forum Drive. Especially not Flash or Lil Banks. But mostly Flash.

"I swear homie. We gonna get those scraps, man..." Vowed Flash. Lil King said nothing. He knew it was more about having an excuse to go kill somebody else than actually caring about Lil King or his family. While Flash had tested Lil King's gangster, it wasnt the same as how he set up Paul. Lil King was on of his own kind but even then, Paul had still done a lot for the Families, arguably just as much as that guy Trevor Phillips that Lamar talked about had but if they could turn on him just fo that, even6r being the same heritage, Lil King still wasn't sure he was exactly safe.

He also knew that back home, while nobody in New Arcadia except maybe Mexican and Hondurans had any love for the city of Los Santos, he knew this wasn't the case everywhere in the south. Even while states like Virginia had none of the racial segregation of a San Andrean correctional facility, at the same time because most street gangs that were well known came from San Andreas, any legitimate gang banger who was from San Andreas lived like a king in a Virginia prison. Even though gangs on the east coast were considered wannabes for not having the knowledge that came with the gang and how out of staters felt they didn't have to learn shit they still showed love in Virginia to San Andrean bangers.

Lil King didn't want to go to prison but somehow felt he deserved to. He had let his moms die and while legally he wasn't responsible he felt like he should be arrested for criminal negligence and endangerment. H Bomb had explained that wasn't the way criminal negligence or reckless endangerment worked but Lil king disagreed. It WAS endangerment for a gang affiliated son to sit with his mom or sister in a car in South Central. In a lot of ways, the black youth felt he should take his sister home with him. But the way karma had been lately he felt that might invite more danger.

All though Lil King had grown up Baptist, he had no care for anything the reverand was saying. "Flash why don't you shut the fuck up?" Demanded Big Sway. "That ese got shot by one time and he's behind bars. You aint finna do shit."

"Nigga fuck that we can have the homies locked down poke him up. You think niggas can't get a hospital assignment up in there?"

"I told ya'll I aint want that! It's too late!" Lil King growled. "Oh well..it's already done, cuz. Sorry but we already shot the kite to the pen. That fuckin cut back is gonna get got."

"The fuck is a cut back?" Asked Lil Banks. "You know how them border jumpers be climbing under wire fences and shit? This aint New Austin so they don't be crossing the Rio Bravo like that. So they only wetbacks in that state. San Andreas spics are cut backs. But their backs will be wet again when the homies get to them."

"Homie you say that shit like our ancestors weren't wet as fuck in the slave ships. I never saw the need to be racist to other people of color," Bomb stated. "It's whites that put us all in this predicament. Some of em are okay but most aren't."

"Nigga we aint immigrants like them bitches! We aint come here on our own free will!" Snapped Flash. "We lost that right when we were stolen. So we're as much from here as the Indians."

"Really my nigga?" Asked Lil Flash surprisingly logical. "That's like saying all those Chinese people brought as sex slaves by the Triads aint really immigrants either cause that's slavery even if it's illegal as fuck. So by that logic they aint immigrants either. You stupid."

"Nah cause they agreed to come to this country by boat they knew what they was getting ino. Shit aint the same. At least it's illegal to do it to them it wasn't for us! They protected we aint. Simple."

"Could ya'll not use my moms funeral as a immigration debate?" Sobbed Lil King's sister. "Damn..."

"Yeah for real, Flash..." Lil King stated. "I just wanna get through this shit..."

A dark blue Tornado was cruising by. Lil King and his sister did not notice it. A cab pulled up and Lil King helped his sister into it. She sniffed and said, "I still gotta go pack. Call me when you touch down, okay? I don't wanna lose you too."

"What's she talking about?" Asked Flash as she got in after he hugged her goodbye. "Mind your business, loc. It's their family..." Stated Sway.

"WE Families, fool. And this aint your set. The sissifieds aint got no say out in Flauson, nigga. This our hood."

Big Sway took offense getting in the face of the youth. "Nigga what you say? I know this lil BG aint trying to set trip..." Sissified being the term for their hood. "I'll split your motherfuckin dome open I even catch you dissing my set again."

"Can't we just get along...?" Lamar protested. He was unusually quiet today. After Gerald had been killed and now Peaches and G Note it had taken its toll on his mental state. The same was true for King Lil G regarding them but the death of his mother had still overshadowed it however when seeing what was done to them in the video that sick Aryan fuck sent he had vomited.

Just then, automatic rounds went off. A Vago with a gold bandanna over his lower face and a light blue over his upper face plus a Pounders cap on wearing a white t shirt fired two Uzi's out of the window. The black gangsters scattered to cover but the rev was caught up with twenty rounds in the chest, stomach and both arms as he fell over. Lamar withdrew his 9mm and began returning fire. Big Sway did the same letting off his Beretta as did Flash and Lil Banks.

Lil King stood out in the open with his arms stretched out. He saw the Vago take shots at Lamar and he saw two Forum Gangsters go down, both wounded by the fire but had gotten to cover behind grave stones. Lil King closed his eyes waiting for the storm of rounds to take him. It never did. H Bomb violently yanked him to cover behind an angel statue. "What's wrong with you, boy?! Get down! Suicide won't bring your moms back!"

"I dont know why god created ya'll wetbacks! All ya'll do is reproduce just to kill each other and steal jobs from Americans!" Yelled Flash. "This is America, homeboy! Fuck ya'll midgets!"

One of the Vagos yelled back, "God? The fact that tintos exist is the best argument against god existing! Ningún creador inteligente arruinaría tan mal!"

Lil King tried to break free from H Bomb's hold. "JUST LET HEM GET ME, MOTHERFUCKER!" Roared the dark skinned youth. H Bomb held with all his strength keeping him down in cover and he positioned himself so that if need be, his body would shield Lil King's. "We got you motherfuckas mad over Eva Longoria huh! Or was it Jessica Alba?" Flash yelled.

"Jessica Alba's kid looks white, stupid! And Eva Longoria went back to dating humans after her chango cheated on her!" Yelled the Vago back. "But you can have that bitch! I'll pass on the Aidsfrican STD!" H Bomb, in addition to trying to keep Lil King from getting shot was getting a headache from both of them as well as the gunshots but more so from them. He didn;'t like Flash. He didn't much care for Lil Banks either seeing him mostly as a follower.

Eight rounds hit the car and one did hit the shooters right elbow. The shooter dropped the Uzi from his hand but sprayed what remained of the rest. A single round hit Lil Banks in the abdomen wounding him and another hit him in the left thigh. Another round did, however, hit the shooter and one also hit the driver, this one from Lamar. The driver crashed into a headstone. Ironically, it was the grave of Harold "Stretch" Joseph. The Vago driver lay dead at the wheel with a single bullet wound in his right temple.

Flash ran up to the car pulling the wounded shooter out. "Fuckin beaner motherfucka!" He pistol whipped him throwing him to the ground. "You Jamestown fuck boys really want it with us, huh? Trying to fuck with us like you do the Eastside Families. Well now you got a war!"

"Fuck you! Pinchhe mayate...your boy should have thought of that before he shot the wrong girlfriend and got my primo pinched."

"Yeah and now you get to die, bitch!" Growled Flash. "Hold up! Check his tats!" Warned Big Sway. He did. "What the fuck? Fresa Vagos? You from Strawberry?"

The gang member spat blood in Flash's face. "That's right maricon. We got familia in Rancho. You think you're the only ones who can have cousins on the other side of town...? Go ahead and kill me puto...my hermanos are coming after you next...take your whole family out..."

Flash shot him in the stomach. "Not before i dead your ass!" Before he proceeded to put the barrel to the cholo's face, the cholo scratched him across the face drawing blood. He'd already spit blood on him too. Flash pulled the trigger shooting him through the left cheek and he got some of the man's brains in his hair.

"You gotta skip town now, bro!" Warned H Bomb. Flash saw this and heard this. "Fuck he mean leave town?! Where you going, cuh?" H Bomb got in his way. "This boy already lost his mama to this shit. See you BG's don't understand how it was for us coming up. The 90's were harder than now. It's theh same thing in the Midwest too. But Lil King what he went through? That reminds me of what I've seen homies have happen. Sometimes mamas see their boys shot in the streets behind gang banging. And sometimes boys see their mama shot in the street. You Chamberlain cats aint got a say. He's getting outta town and salvaging wht he can of his life."

Flash aimed his pistol at H Bomb's face. "Yeah, nigga? What yo holy rolling ass finna do? Throw prayer beads at me? Get your arab talking ass outta here fool. Youse a bitch. You hate on crackers but white bitches give niggas pussy. What them Arabs ever give us? They enslaved us longer. You crazy. You right. This aint your hood's business."

H Bomb didn't even blink or show a sign of fear. "i'm not afraid to die for what I believe in, cuh. But what you don't get is you aint showing me anything I haven't seen before. You claim to be Lil King's homie. Where were you when his mama was getting blasted? I was in Davis myself. You from his hood big man. Why you aint cover him? Is it cause you're a snake? He told me about how you did his boy too."

"So the fuck what if I did, huh? We Families. Locs. Them Indian cats that copy cat our style wasn't meant to be nothing more than throways just like outta state dick riders homie!"Lamar stepped up. "Flash put the gun away, man..."

"oh what you two? Man ya'll some Indian giving Indian loving ass niggas. You know that boy probably wouldnt have accepted you on his rez, right? You know they even got a law where he from that bans interracial marriage? And you claiming to be Indian with that nappy ass hair. You seen what he's in the news foh right? Is what I did to him any dirtier than what he did to his girl just cause she got some side dick?"

"If he did do it...it's the same..." H Bomb stated. "But whatever he is you made him. You know in Islam among other brothers that converted...ever since the days of Malcolm X we been warned about the white devil and best believe the man that killed G Note and Peaches was a devil of the worst kind. But are you out there knocking down doors in Blaine County like we were? Nah. Cause you're a black devil, homie. You're a house nigger that thinks he's a field nigger. That's the funny shit about you. At least those house niggers in the LSPD know what they do but you? You act like you're down. See the modern coon? He aint trying to kiss up to white boys. It's the niggas like you who act like any brother with a vocabulary is a sellout. And anybody that wants to better themselves is a mark to you."

Just then, H Bomb knocked him back taking the gun from him and slapped him as hard as he could with a back hand. "The fuck you think you are slapping me?!" He tried to go back for the gun and Sway did the same thing. "We never hit a bitch with an open fist."

Flash head butted H Bomb trying to go for his gun. He caused H Bomb's lip to bleed and he took a swing hitting Big Sway in the face but it didn't seem to faze the fat gangster despite Flash being significantly more fit than he was. He stated, "I guess i can hit you like a man now."

He punched him in the face with a right hook busting his nose and as the gang member's head snapped back H Bomb shoved him and knocked the younger Families member to the grass. He had kept a pipe nearby. Police were often at these kinds of funerals but he hadn't seen any so he had been careful about keeping a gun on him but he'd kept a pipe nearby because in his day he had known of enemies to not only shoot up funerals but to just have brawls at them. He grabbed the pipe and slammed it down on Flash's left shin. There was a sickening cracking sound and he fell over and H Bomb took another whack at his knee. "Hey, I can't let you beat on my homie like that!" Cried out Lil Banks. He wasn't able to do anything however as he went down bleeding.

A dark green Tahoma was parked nearby and two 165th street Nutty Hood gangsters were parked to back their OG's up. They shook their heads at Lil Banks advising him not to get involved. "The little homie's getting outta here, cuz..." Sway said. "Your hood got hella numbers don't act like you niggas hurting for young blood. Maybe he aint cut out for Families shit after all being a dirty south nigga. But that's all right. He can find another way. His city more about the hustle."

"Nah, he can go straight. God will show him the way..." H Bomb said. Though H Bomb did not like Lil Banks, he disliked him less than Flash. They left him there to fend for himself. "Hey, you know the one times gonnna come through and book him. What's to stop that snake from mentioning our names?" Demanded Big Sway insisting upon an explenation from his younger half brother.

"Nah, he knows better than that. I got contacts with the BGA too. If he was to drop a dime on us, even if they pc him, he;d have hitters from the Army out to put some steel in him. And you know just like I do that they're better than any prison car i ever seen at getting a PC fool. Flash is the type of hot heads that undoes peace treaties too. What I want to know is why CGF aint courted his ass out yet. We been knowing real Chamberlain Hills OG's from back in the day. Remember Reggie from the Families module?"

"Hell yeah fom back in the day the 90's and shit. Fuck yeah. That's my nigga."

"Im saying..." Hassan stated. "If he was still the one holding it down for the Killa Hills he'd have never tolerated anybody like Flash. Stretch gave him all the wrong guidance and so did Gerald...which is to say he gave none.I gotta try and find out who's even runnings things now for CGF cause now that Lamar branched off with his Forum thing and he was never a shot caller for the Hills, I don't see him checking nobody."

Mai

Days Earlier

She kept her mouth on the Mexican American rapper's manhood moaning as his tongue teased her pedals. She moaned against the condom. Luckily it was a flavored condom as she nornally hated givin oral with one on but in the case of a rapper known for promiscuity you couldn't be too careful. He groaned taking a second from eating her out to growl, "Te gusta mi verga, puta? Chupa mi bolas..."

She didn't know whate was saying other than puta but it turned her on. He spanked her ass as he continued to orally pleasure the Asian woman. She slid her mouth up and down his shaft and breathed through her nose as she always did when doing this. She pumped him with her hand and he rubbed his goatee against her clitoris tickling her to the point of a laugh which created a sensation against the head of his dick. She finally began to suck him off more aggressively until she accidentally ripped the condom with her teeth though she had managed to not bite him.

She continued to blow him. He swatted her ass as she sucked him off. She moaned with impatience however. She wanted some dick and at the same time she didn't like Lil Maniaco. It turned her on how good he was at eating her but she did not personally like him and it disgusted her that some primal side of her still found him attractive and she was even a little turned on by it despite him being a sexist asshole. She told herself that this was just for the job at hand. She needed Intel on Neto .

She cried out against his cock as his tongue ran along her clit. She polihed off the circumcised man's manhood taking his helmet deeper down her throat as his togue fucked her. He groaned and he began to thrust into her mouth enjoying the sensation. She whimpered against him and her gag reflex was tested. She continued to deep throat him but before long he cried out, "I'm gonna nut!"

She didn't want to do this but felt she should to get him to be more likely to tell her something. She took his load in her mouth sucking down his salty seed. Somehow, he hadn't lost his erection. He put a condom on. "Hop on..." He growled. She did. Sh lowered herself onto his man. With a sign of anticipation she began to ride him and she shivered as she took his manhood into her moist twat. Her hear began to poun and her tempurature began to raise as she began to move up and down on him.

She had a shiver go up her spine as the dick penetrated the walls of her outter let out a shuddering breath and she felt his hands squeezing her breasts. Her labia darkened in color as she rode the Chicano rapper. "Ahhh...!" She cried out a gust of breath in his face. Sometimes she felt self conscious when her breasts were touched. In truth, she was this way whenever any no Asian partners touched her there. She knew there were bustier Asians but she wasn't one of them. Even if the stereotypes about Asian women havin smaller asses was false to an exten, the myth about Asian men and the dicks which varied more by which ethnicity, and also the never ending stereotype of driving or being short, it was at least somewhat true on their breast size. In fact, even when Mai had sen Asian college girls that could be considered 'bootyliscious' they often still had smaller breasts usually no bigger than a c cup.

Mai was only a 30-A. Her measurments were 33-23-34 and she was also a size 0 in dress size. In the 70's as far as thinness she would be ideal but breasts then as of now she wa self conscious of. Asian men had no doubt seen Asian women with larger breasts also varying on ethnicity or what part of China or japan one came from but Mai was Vietnamese and they had a reputation as a malnourished people even now. But at least she felt an Asian male would be less likely to judge her for it even just mentally, than a white a black or a Mexican guy. He kept thrusting up into hr, however seemingly not caring and she cried out as he slapped her ass.

She felt that the way her pussy felt, as though she would not be okay if he didn't keep filling her up. She told herself it was just a temporary thing. A job. But she was having fun and she didn't want to admit it. She had to admit the leering eyes of the Aztecas and some of their women as she danced for Lil Maniaco turned her on.

She studied his features, her gaze fixated on him through her eyes that were only slits as she was being pleasured. He was not Agent Owl Child but she could see some similarities in his face with that of the Blackfoot agent. But he was taller than Maniaco. Plus he had that longer hair. Even as Mai's pussy was wet with arousal and she grew wetter with the sound of him cursing in Spanish as he drove into he, when she would close her eyes she would pretend that it was Freddy inside her. When she got tired of him saying variation of puta she pretended that she was making love to the agent from Montana who rather than cussing at her like a cheap slut in Spanish, though an Azteca gang member being too ignorant to learn about the society it was named after, she imagined Freddy whispering in her ears in Pukuni. Or was it Siliska? She couldn't remember which specific band of Blackfoot he was. Still, his language relaxed her ears when she would hear the soft hum that was the Algonquin family dialect.

She panted her stomach heaving. Her breasts glistening with sweat, her hair flying everywhere. She pretended it was the Montana Native agent's long hair in her face ith him on top of her.

She was close to an orasm. The minutes had flown by like beads of sweat on her back as her hair whipped around as they fucked. Befoe long he had her doggystyle. Her butt slapped against his cock as she took his inches inside her and she cried out as it went deeper and deeper. He grabbed at her hair cursing more in Spanish. She cried out, "Ohhh...! F...fuck...!" She whimpered as she thrust her hips back into him. She let out a high pitched yelp as he smacked her ass. Latinos...she remembered. They're ass men as much as black guys are...She purred as her clit was rubbed by the Chicano as he bucked into her from behind.

Maybe that fact made it no so bad that she had smaller breast than Ana did. She pictured Ana's breasts in her mouth while Freddy fucked her from behind still. He put a finger that was inside her around to her mouth. She sucked it. It wasn't her first time doing that. She took every inch bouncing back into him. She was close...even closer...

But just when she thought she would soon come, he exploded all over her back side, the condom ripping but luckily it only got on her ass and not in her vagina. She got herself cleaned up and then dressed and he did too.

"You know..." Stated Maniaco as he lit up a joint. "Guys like Neto...they don't even believe there should be a border. I'm okay with one, man. At least as long as there's still one for Canada and we still got one south of Mexico too. Plus there's some motherfuckers that straight up don't deserve to be in this country. Like the Ceros. They need to stay out."

"Is he planning on moving more drugs against the border? Or some Aztecas?"

"Now you know I aint a snitch. But it aint about what he's doing on these streets out nshere. It's about what he's trying to do in Mexico...I don't know if I should tell you this shit, girl. I don't wanna get green lit."

"What Neto is doing with his Zapatistas has nothing to do with the Mexican Mafia. In fact, his little side missions with that is hurting profits because he's hurting the cartel. You should be more worried about the money than Neto's crusade. He's a legend in his own mind. And I know you don't agree with him on everything either."

"Yeah I got no love fior Ballas thats true but I don't really hate all Families sets. And you're right...look what I'm teling you I aint saying it to get him caught up or even killed. It's jst that another war betweenrebels and cartels is just gonna get more people killed on both sides.

"So what's the information you have?" Mai asked. She put his own 9mm to his groin earning his surprise. "If you wasted my time...I'm going to have to repo what i gave you. "

He said, "All right! Chill!" He sighed. "He's trying to do some kind of raid down in Mexico. I don't know what part. I just know that there's some Americans down there. Isrealis too. And it's a soldiers camp. I don' think he meant for me to hear any of that shit but I overheard him talking to one ofhis paisa friends about it. A dude who damn sure aint an Azteca."

She smiled. "Thank you...see? You scratch my back I scratch yours..." She removed the magazine from his handgun. He warned her, "You better not come near Strawberry again!" She fied the round that remained after she chambered it. This got the attention of the other Aztecas. They had their guns out. Mai tossed Lil Maniaco'ss pistol to the floor. "He's fine. His 'gun' just went off too soon."

In reality, they'd been having sex for about twenty eight minutes but she had not reached orgasm. On one hand it spoke to the inequality of orgasms between the genders. Women's were more intense but less frequent. On he other hand, it could also be argued that it was the female equivilant to blue balls. And since Mai knew that some women could suck in bed too, arguably as much as men but for different reasons, and women had found it funny to give men blue balls maybe blue clit whether intentional or not was revenge. Whatever the case, it was not fun to be on the recieving end. A misconception many menn had was that if a woman didn't orgasm during sex they didn't enjoy was as false as the assumption that all or most women were good in bed by default and that men were usually the problem. But Mai didn't chalk up Maniaco's selfishness to his gender. Sh attributed it to him being a rapper if anything. They were selfish bastards. She expected it would have been the same thing if she'd fucked Madd Dogg in the 90's. Though she wouldn't have minded a threeway with Rochel'le.

She hadn't had sex with him anyway for her own pleasure but information and now she had it. Now she just neede to try and narrow down where any off the books operations were going on.

Ivan

He'd heard of the heist that had gone down in New Arcadia. He was staying clear of that for the time being. He knew retaliation for what was done to Ana had to be coming. He was staying in Los Santos again but that was not to say that he wasn't willing to still undermine his new enemies interests whenever he could. He now found himself among the Psychos. He watched as Monster and Roach snorted lines. "They killed my motherfucking cousin, homie. All those Cum Stain Girls are getting lit up! I'm dropping everybody in their hood I don't care who it is!" Monster declared.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Screamed the normally calm Buddha. "You treated your cousin like shit when he was alive. You put steel to his head telling him kill somebody or you'd kill him. Now that he's gone you give a fuck?!"

"How would you like it if somebody blew your cousin's face off, Buddha?" Asked Jada, showing sympathy. "My cousin WAS shot, all right?" Stated Buddha. "The fuckin Families hit him at a gas station. Shot him twice and then ran him over on the way out. I got revenge on the Trannies three days after that. Or maybe I got the wrong ones. It happens. But you know the difference between me and you, man? I never pulled a gun on my own flesh and blood. He didn't have to prove shit to me, man whether he banged for the gray or not. You're supposed to love your cousin when he's ALIVE. Not just when he dies. You dumb ass coke head. I should wash your punk ass off the set. I really should."

"I did show him love man!" Insisted Roach. "Yeah I gave homeboy a hard time that's what you do to youngsters, man! It's a tough world out here. Especially for Hmongs, man! Other Asians hate us. But I loved that fool. I just didn't see him except maybe once a year...I fucked up! I should have been there for him,..." He looked at Monster. "We didn't do right by him. And Buddha's keeping it real. This shit is a last gesture we can do for him, bro. We can at least give our Auntie some peace. And Sue."

"Man, they aint gonna wanna hear that we went out and did some shit in TJ's name!" Monster snarled. "They hate me. They think I'm a negative influence on him. They aint even taking my calls."

"Boo fucking hoo..." Ivan said to the shock of the other Asian gangsters. "I can't stand people like you. I was the one that had to stop this. Well me and Buddha had to stop you from shooting your own cousin. Roach, you may not have done it but you didn't stop it. You expect sympathy from me? It won't happe. You don't deserve it. TJ's sister and his parents deserve sympathy. But you two got him killed."

Monster rose up charging at Ivan. Ivan grabbed his arm twisting it behind his back and slammed him into the coffee table. Roach aimed his pistol at Ivan's head. Ivan grabbed a piece of glass shard and held it to Monster's throat. He wasn't planning to but since Roach had a gun on him and Ivan couldn't have gotten to his Makarov in time this would have to do. "Everybody chill!" Yelled Buddha. "Fuck chill! This motherfucker's trying to cut up my cousin!"

"i don't TRY. I do. You want to shoot me, Roach? Go ahead. I'm willing to die. I'll still open Monster up. What do you think, Monster? Are you willing to die just so your cousin can kill me?"

"You're in the wrong fucking neighborhood dude..." Monster growled. Ivan slammed his head into the floor. "What was that? I couldn't hear you. You want to try that again? I'm game if you are Monster. Live up to your nickname! Go out like a 'g'! Isn't that what you glorify? You say you want to kill Da Nang Boys for killing TJ. That's fine but who gets to kill you for your role in it? I lost my mother once. And my father and I couldn't stop it but I treated them with respect."

Buddha told Roach, "Look he's right. You're both guests in my hood. Roach, put the gun down, man. Ivan, let him up. You're supposed to be on our side."

Roach did as he was told hesitant at first. Ivan dropped the glass shard. Monster tried to get up but Ivan gave him a boot to the gut. "I think you're fine just where you are. Stay on the floor, little child. The adults are talking. You will speak when spoken to."

"Hey, I can't have you just assaulting my solders like that though, Ivan. Respect only goes so far. You can lose it in an instance. I'm the one that disciplines around here and trust me if Monster gets outta bounds again he will get violated."

"Buddha you're really gonna let this bitch put hands on me?! He aint from here! This is our block! You should blast his ass."

Mikayla spoke up. "No, we shouldn't. Ivan might not be a Psycho but it's not like he isn't qualified..." She looked at him then said. "Maybe even overqualified. But can anybody in this room really say Monster didn't just deserve that? You came at him first, bro. You're my homeboy and all but you've been acting real outta control lately. Even towards your own friends and I don't like it."

"Fuck you bitch! Women in the clique are second best. We run this shit. Can't none of us get put on by lying on our back."

Buddha took a drag off the joint in his mouth. "You know...disrespecting guests..." He said blowing smoke. "That aint something we do in Hmong culture. Ivan is a guest in my home and neighborhood. You're in violation. What he said about you and TJ...it's true. Now, Roach, I aint your shot caller man so i can't really speak on how your hood does things. You treated TJ better than Monster but that aint saying much. And as for Mikayla, you called her a bitch. But you're acting like one. So I'm gonna ask you right now. Head or stomach?"

"Buddha, come on, man..."

"Head or gut?!" He repeated. "Fuck, man...gut..." Buddha nodded. "It's only cause I love you that I do this. You got off easy today...Ivan spanked you for comin at him. Now I gotta spank you..."

He hit him as hard as he could in the gut. He doubled over coughing almost to the point of throwing up. The bronze skinned gangster turned red wheezing finally with eyes of tears said, "All right, you made your point..."

Monster helped him up. "I did this for your own good. I didn't take any pleasure in this shit. You know that right?" Monster nodded but avoided his gaze. "I know, Buddha."

Buddha nodded then turned to Mikayla. "Make it good, girl..." Before Monster could blink, the South East Asian gangster punched him as hard as she could in the face. She knocked him out cold busting his nose. Jada and Sly and Roach caught him setting him down on the couch but not before Sly also punched the unconscious gangster several times as instructed by a nod from Buddha,. "So does this mean he aint coming along with us?" Asked Sly. "I didn't say that..." Buddha stated. "Man's still got a right to vengeance for his cousin. All though honestly...I'd rather let Roach do the honors. He fucked up that's true but he was mostly following Monster's lead the way he treated TJ."

He turned to Ivan. "Hey, I appreciate you always having our backs, man. From what I heard on the streets, the Ballas aint showing nearly enough love as they should be for the way you help them. That aint right."

"Yes, well it's a delicate situation"

"Look, I mean we aint cool with those Da Nang bitches but for your sake we would ride for you against the Vanguard if you need us to, man. Even if we need Bravta chaparones to make sure that sit doesn't jump off between us and them. If your room mate is gonna be involved in all this too..."

"I think it would be better for all parties involved including Sugar if I was not part of that war anymore. I still have other things to worry about. Things I have tried to accomplish since I got to this city and they've been delayed. Except, I can't have that happen anymore."

"So look I aint trying to be nosy..." Stated Jada. "But you're basically looking for your pops, right? And you did say that you and him used to be KGB. But they're gone now. So how would you even pull that off? You don't even have the Russian government at your disposal anymore."

"I'll be doing it with with what resources me and the remaining dinosaurs can put together..." He lied. "Don't you worry. It's nothing that would start another world war. Just breaking somebody unlawfully imprisoned out of a prison that doesn't really exist."

"Well do you need our help?" Asked Mikayla. "No offense..." He chuckled. "But this is above your pay grade and training. It is for me too. I will probably die trying to get my father out of prison. I wouldn't ask you to do that."

They pulled up to the spot. They woke Monster up. He was given an Uzi. "You better not go too far."

Roach was armed with a P90. He snorted another bump to hype himself up for murder. Mikayla was carrying a G36 while Jada had a Benelli M4. Buddha put together his AN-94. Sly had a cigarette in his mouth as he readied his two Mac-10s's. Ivan readied his AK-74 but he found himself confused. "What are we doing at a rap studio, Buddha? Are you about to drop an album? We can film you and your friends with your toys looking cool later."

"Nah. We're on the way to fuck the D Stains up in their own backyard but before we do that, you gotta hit them where it hurts. Propaganda."

The rapper Young Gun$ exited the studio with seven other Da Nang gang members. Upon spotting their gray and silver clad rivals they quickly withdrew weapons, with four of them, including Young Gun$ ducking back in but not before he let off a few shots from his Jericho. Mikayla mowed down the first, a man of Filipino ancestry wearing a dark green button up flannel jacket who allso had a Feuds hat on and a dark blue bandanna under it. He had a crew cut haircut and two tear drop tats on his left cheek. As the rounds hit him in the face, the tears were red and very real and there would no longer be any worry about them being filled in.

Jada hit a man trying to get to cover behind his dark gold Manana but she hit him in the buttocks with one shot and the back of both legs with the other and he crawled like a crippled insect that had been stepped on leaving a trail of blood the way insects left their slimy entrails in a trail as they tried to get away in vain. There were six additional Psychos all firing shotguns or SMG's at the studio. Two security guards also came out one a Samoan standing at 6'6 with a buzz cut and muscular arms.

The other a black male two inches shorter but more muscular. They both had Glock 40's and the fired upon a Laotian Psycho who had a Mac-11 and stood only 5'3. The gangster was riddled with bullets from both men who tried to shoot more but ended up getting riddled with brass as Sly and Monster sprayed them both.

The Samoan male went down with ten rounds in his forehead from Monster. Sly hit the African American bodyguard with twelve rounds in the chest. Ivan took out all but Young Gun$. The gang member fired his Jericho striking another Psycho down wounding the man but he ran out of ammo. Sly stood in front of Young Gun$ with a sneer as he aimed both SMG's. "I always wondered what it was like to be the guy that killed a rapper."

"You kill me my homies will crack on all ya'll in the pen. And my locs will be all over your set laying out your families! Right or wrong that's how it is, cuz!"

Mikayla shook her head looking at the rival. "Nobody's gonna miss you. Asian rappers don't make it big, man. Sorry to burst your bubble."

Sly chuckled. "Maybe this will boost your album sales!" He fired a total of twenty three rounds into the Asian American gangster rapper's chest and stomach. The gang member shook and rattled as he fell over as the rounds hit him breaking up his bones as three shot through his left arm at the midway point. Chunks of flesh hung from the open wounds and bone was exposed as a round chipped down to his elbow from the other side.

He fell on his back wheezing as blood burst from his mouth bubbles in his mouth and he gurgled. Air bubbles made their way into his lungs. His eyes went black dilating as his mouth filled with crimson and he shook as violently on the ground as he had been when the rounds hit him. Buddha knelt next to the enemy. "The worst is almost over..." He whispered into his ears knowing the hearing was one of the last things to go as you died so he likely still could hear him. "Your pain will be over soon..."

With that, Roach was back in the van. "LET'S FUCKIN GO!" He shouted. "We need to teach these bitches what happens when you fuck with our family! I don't care if I gotta bring all my homies from my city down here to war with these D Stains!"

Inside Cherry's house, T Mart was behind her. She wore a green lacy bra that was Christmas green but she was bottomless as he entered her from behind. Even though she was known to get around in the hood and had probably been with more men than you could count on all ten fingers and toes, he hadn't wanted to wear a condom. He was only about 4.2 inches as it was but he used what he had. He a;ways made sure to try and make up for it in size. Her butt cheeks were red as was her face as she was drawing close to orgasm. He had already brought her to orgasm vaginally and now he entered her anally putting a condom on. He began to penetrate her and she cried out moaning.

They'd been having sex for about twenty four minutes. They were both sweaty but she was more so. Even compared to most women. "OHHH! Oh yes...!" She howled. "You moan like a white girl..." He said with a sweaty chuckle. "FUCK YOU!" She growled as she bucked up and down on his manhood. "I'll say... He said swatting her already red cheeks. He was close to climax himself, evidence of her own already on the bedsheeds wet with her juices. In truth though, it was more with his fingers he'd caused her to come but that was the case with most women getting off more by oral or fingers than dick and he still counted it.

The window shattered as a barrage of rounds went through the window. He threw himself over her and then pulled her to the ground. "FUCK! I aint getting shot again!" He roared. "I NEED MY FUCKIN CLOTHES! WHERE'S A GUN?!" Shrieked Cherry as a seemingly endless stream of rounds went all through her house.

. Hearing the gunfire from a distance, a Blasian gang member dropped his beer bottle. He went for his Glock 17 in his waistband. "This is my fault..." He muttered to himself. "That kid..." He spotted a carload of Psychos coming at him and he fired as did his homies drawing down on the carload unloading rounds into the car. The windshields and wide windows as well as the back windshield was decorated with blood and brain matter as over thirty rounds hit the car. Even as he had done this however, he didn't know he had focused on the wrong vehicle. Another burst of rounds popped off and he felt hot slugs hit him in the back. Three to be exact. He fell face down on the pavement coughing up blood. "God...I'm sorry...I don't wanna die...!"

Ivan hopped out of the van as did the other Psychos. A silver Cavalcade had pulled up and four more Psychos got out. In addition, a white Sabre and a blue-green Stallion pulled gangsters started shooting as soon as they exited the vehicles. Ivan recognized the faces of some of these men and women. They had been there that night in that three way gunfight that seemed like a long time ago yet also wasn't at the same time.

Ivan saw an Asian female with a Mossberg 500 aimed in his direction. She fired a shot and he ducked behind the Stallion. The blast wounded one of the Psychos in the left ankle and shattered his driver window but Ivan returned blind fire letting off twenty seven rounds. Of the twenty seven rounds, four struck the woman in the chest one above, one through, one to the left and one below her right breast. She cried out falling over in pain.

Monster growled looking at one of the gangsters that Ivan recognized from Mai's crew. He fired off what remained of 9 rounds in the Uzi of which six hit the South East Asian gangster in the abdomen. Roach had run out of ammo for his P90 after sawing through what had to be his twelfth kill of the night though he had also missed significantly more shots. He withdrew his Walther P99 and aimed at the bleeding gangster. He then saw the wounded Blasian gang member. "FOR TJ! YOU OVERCOOKED HAN MOTHERFUCKER! HAPA PIECE OF SHIT!"

He went to fire a headshot at the wounded, prone mixed Asian but suddenly in a last spring of strength the already wounded gangster from Mai's crew that Ivan recognized tackled Roach and tried to wrestle for the gun. His strength was going, however and the gun went off and while it only grazed the already wounded gangster it was enough tomake his stomach bleed and he fell pitching over.

The Da Nang Boys fired at them from across the street, five in total forcing Ivan, Monster and Roach to cover and having to make them ditch their wounded targets

"Fuck!" Cried the Blasian gangster. "Baby, man! Hold on!" He groaned from his own pain bit knew that the Vietnamese gangster was in much greater pain. "Why'd you take the bullet for me, man...? I deserved this shit..."

"Clay, you can't give up now, man! We gotta keep fighting...for the dead...we're boys...it's what we do...fuck man...all I can taste is iron...the fuck...ughh..." He passed out. "stay with me, bro! Come on!"

Just then, a burst of automatic rounds hit three Psychos. Ivan looked to see an older Vietnamese man with an old school M-16. He pulled the wounded Clayton and the dying baby Face to cover with the help of Gina who was firing an AK-74 like a crazed shooter with one arm. Kimmy, Rachel and Tina also covered, with an M3, a .22 machine Gun and a ingram SMG. As the two DNB members were pulled to cover, Khoi fired at Ivan. "Baba Yaga! I'm sick of running into you!"

He fired his remaining magazine at Ivan hitting him several times in the chest. Ivan dropped his own Rifle but as he fell grabbed his Makarov and he discharged eight shots at the older Vietnamese man . "My friendship with your daughter is over. You're both my enemy. I have no compunction with killing you and dealing with her later!"

Khoi gritted his teeth hitting the pavement as two rounds went through his right shoulder. "What's this about, IVAH?!" Mocked Khoi. "Are you angry an old man tuned you up?"

"You're not that much older than me, motherfucker! Which is kind of sad! i may not outfight you but I can outshoot you!"

"We'll see about that!" Khoi shouted reloading and he fired blindly from cover as Ivan's rounds bounce off a dark blue Voodoo he had ducked behind. Ivan managed to hit his M-16 shooting it through all the way to the firing pin rendering the gun useless. Khoi sneered even as blood ran down his right hand as a round had grazed him as well as hitting the grip of the Rifle. "Hey comrade! You're looking kind of hungry! Want a potato?" He pulled the pin on a grenade with his teeth. Ivan saw it coming and he ran to cover behind the gang van. The grenade went off and a huge shock wave kicked up. Ivan was thrown to the ground winded. He had also twisted his right ankle when he hit the ground and he hissed with agony.

"You know what i hate about Russians?!" Demanded Khoi who Ivan could barely hear through his ringing. "It's been almost twenty five years since the Soviet Union collapsed and I still see you fat fucks at the food banks taking up all the bread! You haven't been in the bread lines in Moscow yet you still act like you're hungry! Americans are hungry too! You bastards have less dignity in the west than starving Vietnamese farmers!"

"You know what I hate about the South Vietnaese? Same thing I hate about Southerners in this country. You still don't realize you lost!" Ivan shouted back. "You may hate communism. But the US did not see you as any different from VC!" He emptied his magazine trying to hit the older man but the spry Hmong made it to the back of the Voodoo as the rounds whizzed past him. "At least the Americans were on the ground fighting with us! You cowardly pieces of shit hid! You brought weapons and that's it. No on the ground support for the NVA!" Ivan waited for an oppurtunity to try and get a headshot but he could see none. "Fuck..."

Khoi had another grenade. "You're sounding a little cold there, Boogeyman! This should warm you up!" He tossed another grenade and the already on fire gang vehicle was burning and the next explosion destroyed it. This too sent Ivan flying and he felt a few pieces of shrapnel in his left leg. He screamed in pain as his ears rang.

Buddha helped Ivan off the ground. "i got you, dog. I'll find us some wheels. We gotta get the fuck outta here!"

Khoi had managed to load both Baby Face and Clayton into a black told Gina, "You drive. I'll shoot just in case we have to!"

Ivan reloaded the handgun as Buddha had to drag him now. Ivan fired striking a DNB female four times in the chest. As she fell, two more rounds hit her in the stomach.A seventh round found her neck and an eigth hit her in the right cheek. She was quite beautiful but the last bullet did a lot of damage blowing out her eyeball as the round lodged into her eye socket. As Ivan was placed inside a new vehicle that Sly was already hot wiring, two Vietnamese gangsters, both women, fired on the vehicle as it hummed to life. "That motherfucker! He killed Tina!"

They soon wers speeding away. Ivan's vision blurred. When he came to he was on a table and the shrapnel pieces were dug from him. "I hope your revenge was worth it, asshole!" Buddha yelled at Monster. "Roach at least hit the guy that did that shit."

"Yeah plus I think you bodied that bitch Baby Face..." Added Mikayla. Monster was still high as a kite. "Did you see what Baba Yaga did? He took out Tina's eye. I hate that bitch. She's a ho. She always set homies up."

Sly chuckled. "Yeah. That's the last load anybody will ever shoot in her eye!" This got a howl of laughter from Monster as well. "We still lost some homies, tonight..." Buddha said. "Next time, Monster, we do this shit more carefully. We got lucky tonight."

Mai

Earlier That Week..

She confronted her father regarding the attack he had done during their job against the Vanguard. You shouldn't have done that... " She growled.

"That man lied to you about who he is. You were looking for Baba Yaga when you first started this Los Santos operation. You didnt know who he was. You knew who Baba Yaga was by reputation but not Ivan Azarov. He presented himself to you as a FORMER KGB agent. But he neglected to tell you he was current FSB. You see, the best lies have the truth mixed in with them."

'Where as you. lied to me coompletly. You told me that I grew up in South Yankton and before that we were staying in Vice City!"

"What difference does it make? It's for your protection. And your mother's. I was helping found the gang, that's true but I was also an agent I was involved in the drug wars. Contras. Anti Communist activities. I admit it A lot of the drugs that destroyed Los Santos...I helped put on the street. That we helped put on the streets...as for your childhood...you really don't remember?"

"Remember what?"

Her mother had been listening in to the argument. "You were shot..in the head when you were just a toddler..."

Mai's eyes widened. "That scar..." Khoi had tears in his eyes. "I had you in my arms thinking I'd lost you. That was when we moved away. You had some memory loss and it took you some time to learn to eat right and walk again. But you did...our miracle baby..." He made the sign of the cross taking a breath. "Those Vagos were shooting at me. They hit you."

"And all this has to do with the drug wars back then? And the gang rivalry?" Mai asked. Khoi nodded. "The blood of my own countrymen...was on my hands during the war...but when I got to the United States...many Americans have died by my hands. I thought I was doing this to protect the United States but we made it worse. The cold war..."

Mai's mother said, "You thought what you were doing was right at the time. Though war never is. If you had known then what you know now..."

Mai tried to hand him a tissue but he knocked it away. "No. That's an excuse. How many lives have been lost do you think...? Because of drugs and killings over drugs? I think...this is all on my hands. That's one of the reasons I left the Agency. I don't trust Devlin. I never liked him. He reminded me of the US military we were fighting alongside. When I had assets i did what I could to protect them. At great personal cost to myself. Sometimes I could not save them but I have been shot trying to and I saved some...but Devlin is the type who would let an asset die if it served a greater cause."

"It's what we do, dad. Nobody said it was pretty."

"Do you know how much a kilo of coke was in Los Santos when I first came to this country? When the war between us and the Vagos on the East Side of Cypress Flats started? It was so expensive only Vinewood celebrities and basketball stars could afford it in 1980. You're talking anywhere between $50,000 to $64,000 a kilo. the only people that could really afford this and get high on it...was people in the West Side. The Valley. Trust fund people. But because of what we did...by 1984 it was as cheap as $14,000 a key. Even 12!"

He sighed. "And when you count not just Los Santos county but all of these places where crack cocaine took place...Liberty City, Vice City Carcer City, Alderney, Waston, New Arcadia, Dockington, you had homicides and you had overdoses. And it's still happening to this day. What i helped do was set off a nuclear bomb of drugs and even though I want to stop it...I can't. I used to think thousands of people's blood was on my hands. But now? It has to be in the millions when you count every overdose from 1980 to 2015. And then...when I look at how the drugs spread beyond America and have went international...the role that Vietnam has now in the heroin trade..." He sat down as if suddenly dizzy. "I'm going to hell, Mai..."

She hugged him. "No, you're not, dad. 'You've done a lot wrong same as me but it was for a greater good. Hmongs make good Christians, daddy. We have remorse The cold war is over. The Vietnam war, for better or worse it's over too..."

"I know..." He said. "But they're still persecuting us in the Republic of Vietnam...fifty years ago...it was easy even in the war to see ones self as just Vietnamese. We were fighting our own countrymen for ideology but both thought we had the best interests of the country at heart. We were both right...and both wrong. But the Americans were more wrong. I couldn't see it at the time. But nowadays? Now...it's like our tribe has no country. A Hmong is an oucast wherever he stands. China, Vietnam, Thailand, Minnesota...and where we were once heroes and warriors for democracy...now Christian Hmong suffer."

"Buddhists suffer too, dad..."

"I know..." He said and then grinned. "You sound like your mother."

He sighed. "I started the DNB as it truly is. Those two Filipino brothers. They started it officially but if it wasn't for me, we wouldn't have taken it beyond fist fights. Fighting the Mexican gangs, The black gangs. Especially when they were ten years ahead of us already starting to replace fists and knives with guns and cocktails. I was the one who modernized us. Me and some other Vietnamese boys. No disrespect to the Filipinos at all. But their war with the states was in the 1800's. North or south, it was us who came from a war zone..." When he put it like that, to Mai it sounded like the Filipinos were like the Asian counterpart of older Chicano gangs in the states the same could be said for the Chinese where as the Vietnamese immigrants were moe like the Salvadorans coming fresh from a civil war. And obviously they followed my ways to get a life sentence."

"But then we obviously started preying on our own. I can sit there and hate the Psychos like I did when I was young but they wouldn't exist if we hadn't gotten too bold. And you know what? I don't like that a lot of the younger generation picked up the green flag and decided to be Families. But maybe it's destiny. Boys from South Central got recruited to fight in our war. I saw a lot of them over in the war. They were on the same side as us. Killing bou coup commies. Now maybe that was the next generation repaying it. Helping them fight the Ballas. Then I realized the truth about that. The thing we have in common with the Families. We started for noble causes in our own neighborhoods to protect our community but we turned cannibal. Going after our own neighborhoods and we caused new gangs to be against us just like they did."

"if you're so against what happened to the gang why do you still watch out for it? Why still get involved? You don't think the Agency is worth fighting for anymore but you're willing to fight for this?"

"It's like they're my children. A lot of these boys, I knew their fathers. Ran the same streets together. Others weren't from the older generation but you live in an economically depressed area, what will you do?" He sighed. "Want to know a secret, Lotus?" She looked at the Eurasian Hmong man. "What?" He paused and then said. "I faced men...patriarchs from Romeo's family. In the war. He's not yet fit to lead and I won't give it back to him until he's ready but his anger is rightous. I did start this gang whether people admit it or not. I contributed to it. And the other two originals still around are locked up and I'm here.. I have to watch out for all of them. I birthed this."

Ivan

New Arcadia

It had been over a month since the Mari Gras heist that he knew Neto had helped with. Ivan during that time had been recovering from his wounds from the grenade Khoi had used. Mark, Charlie and Marco were in a room discussing the new status of Devlin and his promotion. Ivan burst in. Mark withdrew his Colt Rifle with lightning speed aiming it at him. Charlie racked a shotgun while Marco withdrew a machete. "How's the jaw?" Demanded the Dominican. "Well...it's alive. Which is more than I can say about the women in your life. Remember?"

He looked like he was going to try and put the machete into Baba Yaga's skull then and there but Charlie advised against making any move too soon. "Calma..." Mark demanded, "What do you want?"

"I saw your little slaughter of my boys in the bayou. This we can't have. I'm afraid I'm just going to have to tear all three of your respective organizations apart piece by piece. Neto got bored with you. He plays with his food. Me? I do the suggested twenty chews and swallow."

"Is that what you did when you were sucking cock in that Siberian prison?" Sneered Charlie. "Ah yes. The Russian hating wop..."

"Wop? That's old school. I thought you commies consider talk like that reactionary?"

"We do. But I grew up a teenager I heard anti Russian sentiments never realizing my parents were KGB. And soon so would I be. I thought I was for all intents and purposes, American. Also, if you think the Soviet Union was above a little 'reactionary' talk from time to time, or even using it to support a larger agenda even when we did support the ANC and the anti Apartheid movement, I guess you must not know your history lessons. What do Malaysia, Zimbabwe, Sri Lanka, and South Korea have in common?"

"African and Asian countries? Not a thing," Charlie said. "Somebody must have slept in class when they talked about the '84 Olympics," Ivan snorted.

"The fuck does that fag shit have to do with this?" Charlie asked. "I'll tell you about what he means later..it was something the KGB did at the LS olympics," Mark told the Italian. "You really think you stand a chance against us? We know this area. You don't. Ask the Ese's in Lincoln Parish. Ask the Apostles, the Vanguard, all the wards that had a problem with me. And they KNEW the area!"

"It didn't stop these two carpet baggers from coming down here now did it?" Ivan said with a smile looking at the two immigrants. "If some shitty Dominican miniature version of Marabunta Grande can come down here and do damage and if some descendant of the Roman Empire can come down here..."

"Hey! The families are down here too and there's a long history of it..." Charlie stated. "Just remember something, wise guy. Talking about us and our thing is like eating pussy. One slip of the tongue and you're in deep shit!" This made Marco laugh a little.

"And I also overheard what you said about Russia. At least we fought against Hitler while you bowed to him."

"Yeah so did Stalin before Hitler decided you were shit."

"Okay, let's not go down this road..." Mark said with an eye roll.

"You know...the Germans and Romans did fight off the Huns. So for the Americans to call Germans Huns themselves is quite offensive. I'll give your forefathers that much. But can you name any southern European civilization worth mention in the last 250 years? I'm being generous in mentioning the Roman bravery against the Huns. If I wasn't, I would mention how many Romans paid the Huns off instead of fighting them. Or how about how Italy and Spain were under Muslim rule? That didn't happen in Russia. We are unconquerable."

"Yeah but we learned Fascism wasn't so great. And we killed the Duke with our own hands. You commies didn't do that to Stalin no matter how many he killed. The last time any of you had balls was when you took down the Czar. And even then. Bayonetting a 17 year old girl? Took you frozen bastards till '91 to embrace capitalism. Kids had holes in their jeans as a style choice in America before you morons had a single pair of clothes that weren't full of holes. Starving in bread lines. Hey you were there weren't ya? How long did it take you to get fed each day?"

He could see he was getting under Charlie's skin. So he continued. "Rome also destroyed the most indigenous European cultures second only to Christianity. Leading up to World War II,the Italians were pretty good at Machine Gunning Ethiopians. But that was it. The Africa Korps existed because the Italians fucked it up so badly, the Germans had to come in. The same was true in the Balkans. In all honesty, the Italians had the frumpy aspects of civilization down. Wine, food, and song. In addition, it seems they were adept to fucking the locals. According to Leon Degrelle, us Russians knew this and would wait until Italians were drunk and in bed with the locals to attack. Based on the accounts of Russian, German and italian soldiers I read, they just weren't into it. I read a quote from an Italian soldier and it went something like this. 'We have a good life and the sun. What's the point of fighting here on the steppes?' I guess reading 'La Dolce Vida' is more important than fighting Marxism, no? Sempre vigliacchi Prima perdi contro i Vandali. Poi perdi contro i Mori e non sei stato liberato di nuovo fino alle crociate. Poi hai perso contro la Francia. Poi alcuni contadini etiopi sono riusciti a fermare la tua annessione temporanea. E poi hai perso ad ovest."

(Always cowards. First you lose against the Vandals. Then you lose against the Moors and were not liberated again until the crusades. Then you lost against France. Then some Ethiopian peasants managed to stop your temporary annexation. And then you lost to the west.)

Ivan had caught him off guard speaking Italian.

""Distruttori della cultura? Non è strano per i distruttori di cultura erigere città, templi, acquedotti, stabilire commerci, medicine e irrigazione? Inoltre, Roma potrebbe averli ripagati, ma le tribù gotiche si unirono a loro. Se l'avessero provato un secolo prima, gli avrebbero consegnato le loro teste, inoltre l'85% dei korps dell'Africaa erano italiani e avevano sottomarini suicidi contro la marina britannica, gli unici bianchi "kamikaze" sì, sono stati Romani e Tedeschi a combatterli, non era un fottuto russo!"

(Culture destroyers? Isn't it strange for culture destroyers to erect cities, temples, aqueducts, establish commerce, medicine and irrigation? Also, Rome may have paid them off but Gothic tribes joined them. The Huns came when the Empire was in its death throws. If they'd tried it a century earlier, they would have had their heads handed to them. Also, 85% of the Africaa korps were Italians and they had suicide submarines against the British Navy. The only white 'kamikazes' And yes, it was Romans and Germans together fighting them off. It wasn't a fuckin Russian!)

"Anybody want to translate that?" Mark asked. Since Italian was similar enough to Spanish, Marco told him the gist of what was being said.

"Besides you lost 10 million in the Eastern front!" Charlie barked. "Italy only lost 82,000."

Ivan as well as the other three knew Russia lost more than that but he was talking military losses alone.

"Yet you still ran away like the Legion Mongrels you are. That campaign was three years, eleven months and three days. June of '41 till May of '45 and you all backed out two years before that. so much for Italian stamina. Your love making is like your revenge. You go in hot but it's over quick in the former and you go hungry in the latter. Us? We play the long game in love and war."

"Yet we're longer than you. Italian stallions are bigger than Germans and Germans are bigger than you. Maybe nutrition and sunshine would do ya better than snow. You only got two centimeters on the Irish and you know what they say about the Irish curse..."

Ivan unzipped his pants. He was not erect but even flaccid he was larger than most men. "Cono, what the fuck, man...?!" Marco looked away as did Mark but they saw it as did Charlie. "Russian women don't get in boats to escape us. It's to escape the country and we're in those same boats. As for Italian women...I've bent over my fair share of them. You know Gracie Ancelotti? She was one of them."

Charlie tried to keep his cool. "Did you know how they advertise surplus WWII Italian rifles for sale? 'Never fired and only dropped once'..." Ivan said with a sneer.

Charlie said, "Keep talking, Boris. I'll fire this once and it's all I need."

"You know I heard it was Italian mobsters who killed JFK. It took 200 sharpshooters."

"He will shoot you..." Marco stated. Cono, don't let him get to you."

"In Liberty city, I noticed Puerto Ricans would use clear trash bags. So Italians could go window shopping. You know what I noticed Chuck? They were all hairy. Hairier than Russian men. They would shave by laying down and letting somebody else mow them."

"You're a real comedian. Why don't you give up the Soviet bullshit and go to the Split Sides?"

"Why is Italy shaped like a boot? Do you think you could fit all that shit in a regular shoe? Why do Italian men have mustaches? To look like their mothers..." With that, Charlie fired but Ivan grabbed the shotgun as the blast went off. Mark and Marco put their barrels to the back of Ivan's head. "Aint nothing happening here, ivan...just walk away while we still let you."

"True. But not because you say so... you may want to check door outside..." Mark did what he said as Marco kept his gun on him. There was eight Bravta soldiers outside with AK's, AA-12's and one even had an SA-18 aimed at them. It was Vasily. "If I don't walk out of here alive, none of you do. You're good, Mr. Black Gunslinger. But nobody is that good...plus..." He made a gesture with his hand and a sniper dot appeared on Marco's forehead and one on Marcus. "It's true. I've never been to New Arcadia before this year. But Vasily has been to the swamplands in Africa so he knows his way around this kind of terrain."

Vasily, being in ear shot, confirmed. "The swamps surrounding your cities are nothing compared to the Okavago Delta."

With that, they took off.

Paul

May 4, 2015

Even as he was healing up, he had requested to see the warden. "So they won't extradite me, huh?"

"No..." The warden, an Afro Canadian in his early 50's with dark skin, sad eyes with anger in them wearing a black suit with a red tie stood over him in the hospital bed. "No. The crime you were convicted of was on Canadian soil. You should have read up on international law, kid. If you wanted to die by the state you should have stayed in San Andreas."

"Yeah...but things can get tied up in appeals there...just look at the founder of the Families. Sentenced to die in 1980. Didn't fry his black ass until 2006."

"Are you trying to piss me off? I can make your life in here a hell of a lot harder than it is. I could throw you in ad seg..."

"For saying black ass? He was black. It stands to reason his ass would be. i'm sure you guys shopped for cocoa butter at the same place."

A black guard swatted his night stick at Paul's pillow next to his head causing the young Mohawk Canadian to jump a bit. "Watch your mouth!" Paul looked at the warden. "So you're telling me no matter how many people i killed in this country...they wouldn't extradite me or put me to death?"

"No. Even if you killed more than just Lucifer. This country takes a hard stance against capital punishment. There's no doubt that you would be killed if you were extradited. Now personally?" He leaned in. "I don't agree with it. Being warden here has made me think maybe the Americans have the better idea. Sure, there are some well behaved lifers that want to make this place better for those stuck here but i can see you're not one of them. It doesn't matter what kind of gangster you are. you're still a gang banging piece of shit. Aboriginal, biker, Triad, African crews, Yardies, it doesn't matter. You're all scum. We have laws for a reason."

"You really believe the law is so great? I mean...you?" Paul said with a sneer. "Yes. It might not be in the states in terms of a guy like me. But Canada? I see that as a country that represents opportunity. Repeairations in the form of a nation."

He then added, "You got lucky those two brothers of yours didn't get an artery. Of course they were found dead too but you wouldn't know anything about that would you?"

"They're gone? "I didn't want that. We're brothers of the same clan. Of course, they've probably pissed more people than me off..." Paul said with a poker face.

"I've seen plenty of stab wounds. I've been working here since 1997. Yours could have been worse. You got lucky..." He leaned in until he was an inch closer. "Maybe next time...you're not so lucky..."

With that the warden started to walk away. "Yeah probably. I'm luckier than Gabriel Dubois. You should have seen the way that fucker's face came apart when I put my tomahawk in his face..."

The warden paused. "Are you confessing to another murder?" Paul had a yo-yo and he was playing with it. "Uh huh. I also killed Lil Rhino in San Andreas and blamed in on the Carson's. AND I killed an Angel in Liberty City back in 2011. Sgt. At Arms i believe. Name was Luke Giantos. Picked him off with an AK while he was riding through Boabo. And I killed Julian Gonzales from Bohan, Shirley Rothstein from West Dyke, Pierre Montcalm...he spent a lot of time in New Arcadia but he was from here and I killed him about a mile away from my hometown rez...That Frenchie bastard was at the protests back in 1990. He was put on leave after the shootings between us and the army and police."

Paul sneered. He had killed the man with a wire coat hanger. The French Canadian had dual citizenship and had loved going to New Arcadia due to their French culture. Much like the original Cajuns had come to the swamps after being kicked out of Canada, it seemed they forgot their roots in Canada and formed their own culture and while Moncalm was loved down in New Arcadia especially by the women, it seemed the city had no idea about his anti Indigenous past.

"Why did you kill him?" Asked the warden. "After they put him on leave, he was in an Anti Mohawk protest. As Mohawk families were leaving the area where the shootings happened and going home a bunch of whites were throwing rocks at the car. They did it to my parents too. My dad tried to fight them off but he was outnumbered and they had to drive outta there. They also gave an Elder a heart attack when they smashed his window with rocks. That motherfucker was there."

"So that's what this is about? Or was about? Petty revenge?"

"It was. Hey, nobody is supposed to escape what they've done, right? I'm not being executed but I aint free either. But neither should he."

He ended up confessing to thirty seven murders. That was not all the murders he had done but it was just the ones he could name off the top of his head. There was no trial. He was given ten life sentences for the killings he had done on Canadian soil which had accounted for about 19 of them. The American press was outraged and pro death penalty groups lobbied for him to be extradited. They discussed him on left and right wing shows and it was agreed that if he was to land in just about any state he had ever lived in n the US, he would be executed on federal charges as well as the ones he was already doing and double jeapordy wouldn't apply since he never carried out the initial sentence.

There was debate from right wingers stating that this was "Proof" Native Americans had more "Advantages" than the average citizen. Native scholars on the other hand debunked this saying that if Paul were in the US where it was still legal to execute, he would have no chance at a life sentence and they were quick to point out white serial killers who would never be executed even when they had killed over 40 people as they had secured a deal for themselves. Then blacks got into the debate somehow even though it was mostly a red and brown issue but some of Paul's victims he had named had been black, namely, Tackle Williams. Then the debates on the TV came as to whether or not Tackle himself should have also been executed for the murder of drug dealers he had done.

And to his amazement, somehow in all the crazy debates, even BJ Smith's murder trial in 1995 came up in right wing arguments mentioning another instance of a minority who had killed two people and gone free but now BJ Smith was in prison for stealing memorbillia from his own trial and something about a robbery in Las Venturas. Like Paul had been before, BJ Smith had also, he heard, been assaulted by members of the Aryan Vanguard.

He soon found himself heading back to the yard. A guard, Officer Bryson Champlain snarled at him. The man was a brown haired brown eyed weasel looking man and he was about five inches shorter than K:or but with his authority as a correctional officer, it was like he thought he was seven feet tall. He sneered at him. "You know, just cause there's no death row in this country don't mean there aint ways to get you an early release date. The only kind you'll be getting. You hear me talking to you?"

"Yeah...i hear you. Officer Rent-A Cop."

The guard swung his night stick at him. Paul caught the night stick. "Give it back..." The guard said in a whisper trying to make it sound like a warning but he could see he was scared. "You're gonna make life in here a whole lot harder on you than it needs to be..."

"K:or..." A voice came out. "Give him back his night stick..." He did as he asked. The guard then told him, "Assume the position. You're going to lockdown, punk..." He hit Paul in the ribcage on the left side.

"No. He did what you asked. You provoked him. I saw what happened."

"You giving me an order?!" The guard stepped to the much larger Cree man. "You want to end up on my shit list too?"

"Show the man some respect. He's an Elder..." Growled Hardline. "Don't forget who pays you..." The guard then approached the younger inmate. "Hey dickhead! You want to say that a little louder? I don't think they heard you in Puerto Rico. You can go to lockup too. If you don't want the gravy train to be shut down, you all better show some fucking discretion. You're supposed to be a Sgt. Act like it."

"Then act like a C.O. and control the inmates instead of antagonizing them."

Jean told Paul, "Take a walk."

The young gang member did as he was told. He tried to stay within ear shot. "You keep your men in line, Jean. Or we will. There's a lot of buddies of mine in law enforcement that would love to see him dead. Lot of Angels. Lot of Tribal Syndicate."

Jean then approached Paul. "Don't let him intimidate you. He's just another reject that couldn't cut it for the RCMP so he became a hack cause he was a hack who couldn't hack it at life. Get it?" He chuckled at his own joke. "Yeah..." Paul said smirking for the first time in months. "If he keeps fucking with me he's gonna lose his life..."

"You talk a lot of shit, Candy Caine. Can you back it up? What do you got for me?" Demanded Hardline. "Let's take a walk to the bathroom."

He beckoned to Buck Eye and Seymour to follow. They did. With that, Paul showed him as did the other two RW members. "Two questions. Where did you get these and how soon can you get more? I want every brother out here carrying at least one..." Stated Hardline. They were plexiglass knives and Paul was surprised they hadn't used them up here. It was yet another useful thing he had learned doing time with not only La Onda as one of the chosen but also among mainline Vagos Marabunta and Aztecas.

"Back in San Andreas...Camaradas.." He still occasionally slipped into barrio slang though he was mostly back to rez slang though there was some similarities between a barrio and a rez accent, there was differences too. The San Andreas State Pen and the brothers he'd left behind as well as ones on the outside like Neto seemed a million miles away. The same as freedom was. "Brothers...would use string as a saw and cut the shank from a plexiglas sheet that covered the cell doors of inmates that gassed officers. It takes two. One in a cell and a tier tender from the outside."

"How long does it take?" Asked Hardline. "About twenty minutes to cut a strip all the way across the bottom of the Plexiglas shield," Replied K:or. "How many more can you get made?" He asked. "We can get more but we have to be careful."

They went to go put the work in on doing so. Paul began to saw it down with an inmate who was on the other side of the glass. The guards were not there and Seymor had lifted a key from one of the guards. It would be "Found" later. Just then, the lunch cart was coming. Paul spotted a white male with a red mohawk hairstyle. The guy had blue eyes and he stood six feet tall. "What are you doing?" He asked. He had an accent indicating he was from this province. "The better question is, what are you doing?" Paul asked beckoning to his hairstyle. "You know that's cultural appropriation right? You're obviously not Kanienkehaka or Pawnee. Why are you wearing that?"

"I'm a rocker, man. Come on, dude you're not supposed to be in here if you're not on cart duty."

"You gonna snitch on me, punk?" Paul pulled out the shank. "No..." Gulped the inmate. "It's cool..."

No...it aint cool...you're not Indigenous. That hairstyle might be appropriated by others but it's for our men. A symbol of those who protect our community."

"Man, fuck you. You killed a woman. All I'm in here for is meth. And I never hurt an Indian or anybody else."

"Here's what's gonna happen. You're going to forget what you saw here just now. You're gonna serve everybody their fuckin food. Or I'm gonna shove this up your ass, paleskin. And then? You're gonna get yourself a haircut and shave that fuckin hair off. Make it bald like a baby. Like the Aryan Rear Guard bitches in San Andreas. See down there? The Aryans...the motherfuckers that protected bitches like you were our slaves. Other brothers had use for them. Get them to get their own strung out on heroin but me? I just took out the white trash."

"You're half white..." Replied the other man. "That I am. But my mother's gone. Which means I don't have to love a single one of you anymore. I miss her but now...I'm free to kill as many of you as I want."

The man threw a food tray at him making a mess and took off running. "Officers!" He cried out. Paul tackled him. "Wow...you're on a roll today saying the wrong things. Turn the fuck over!" He punched him in the nose, then in the jaw. He busted him in the lips and the eyes. "It's true..." Paul sneered. "What's true?" Demanding to know what his victim meant. "I saw a story about your hometown rez...a lady...got her house sprayed up...they tagged her place cause she lived with a white guy. She said that the ban on outmarriage isn't just impacting adults...it's teaching youth to be bullies."

Paul laughed. "Yeah...maybe we are. But so is everybody else. It's how we survive. You're supposed to bully your enemies. Besides...it's white assholes like you...in addition to traitors like that whore...that think that..we should just 'respect your personal lives' That it's none of our business. But that's an argument only an apple or a colonial like you would make...now look...I don't want every Mohawk woman. Most are too light skinned for my personal taste. But we have to stick together as Native people if we want to survive. O'serroni like you...you are so entitled that you think you are entitled to Indigenous women. And that we as men should respect that. That's not gonna happen..."

"Are you...gonna kill me...?" The man said, clearly shaken up. "No..." He said. "But i am gonna take your hair. If you scream...or fight it...I will kill you. If you tell anyone...I'll kill you..."

He began to pluck the man's hairs out one by one. "The guards will be back any minute..."

"no...they won't. The black guys got into it with some Dead Beats in the chow hall. Warden doesn't want the place to go back to lockdown again."

"Goddamn it man!" He growled. "You got a fuckin knife! Why don't you cut it or get me some clippers at least?!"

"Hey you're the white boy rocking a haircut of ours just cause you want to look 'cool' well this is how we did it back in the day. We didn't cut our hair. We plucked it. Your hairstyle looks more like the Pawnee. But I know you aint them either."

He plucked and plucked and plucked until there was no hair left. "Good as new..." Seymour, meanwhile,fed the inmates. "Hey! Where the fuck's my food?!" Demanded an Angel through the food tray. "Eat that, ya hairy bitch..." Replied Seymour tossing the food tray in so that it spilled onto the floor.

Paul made his way back to the yard for yard time. Just then, a CO, this one a man of Tamil ancestry named Alex Sharawat approached him. "Hey Redwood. Guess what? You're innocent."

"What are you talking about?" Demanded Paul as he was lifting weights. The guard smirked. "They just busted some Angel. Low level but he's full patch. Found 20 kilos in the guy's van. Police got him to flip on Lucifer. He confirmed your story. Too bad you confessed to other murders!"He said with a sneer. "And don't go thinking Lucifer will be coming here cause he won't. That is when he's caught. And that's if your boy makes it to trial. Isn't that sad? They cleared your name just in time for it not to matter."

Paul wanted more than anything to bash the East Indian guard's brains with the weight but Paul knowing the art of war and not showing your emotions to an enemy, replied, "Yeah...sure thing boss. Thanks for telling me..." He said calmly. Inside he screamed, NOOOO! You took ten life sentences! What the fuck did you do?!

He did fifteen reps and wanted to quit but he realized that if he didn't do his daily work out, even if he hadn't reacted in anger to the guard, that would be an indication it bothered him too. Sure, the guards were dicks but they had the power but if the other inmates knew he was bothered by it they would fuck with him. So even though he didn't feel like it, he lifted and lifted. He'd followed he logic of La Onda members in San Andreas. One life sentence in San Andreas was as good as ten and much like inmates in Canada, Los Santos cholos didn't care if they got another life sentence. A death row sentence on the other hand, even if it was in San Andreas would not be carried out quickly like New Austin.

Death row in San Andreas often could take as much as twenty years in some instances though he'd had a chance at a date. He could be dead this time next year if he'd have just stayed in San Andreas. If i'd done that...Aila would still be alive... the Mohawk inmate thought.

Sunbelt

The Onda boss eyed the PVL shot callers. The homie's name was Psycho. He didn't spell it that way, however. His real name was Joseph Parker. He had been one of Miguel's older homies and he hadn't shown Ernesto much respect when he first got into town but from the heists Ernesto had done with the likes of Barry and Jrue, he had earned his respect. Not long after that, however, the gangster, Syke O, had gone back to prison for 18 months. A parole violation. That made him a two striker. Dealing with a two striker was a risky move. If the Sunbelt Police decided to arrest him, he could easily flip on Onda. He'd liked to have believed the twenty eight year old never would but there was always a chance. In any gang, few were really willing to do life. That was the difference between prison gangs and street gangs.

That was why Onda deserved to rule all the south side gangs. They were a cut above. If people couldn't understand why one took orders from men on twenty three hour lockdown they wouldn't even see, it should have been obvious. They sacrificed a hell of a lot more than the average soldado just paying the dime. The dime was nothing. When Ernesto paid the dime in the late 80's and early 90's, it was small potatoes compared to the burden of being Onda.

Syke O, on the other hand, while a respected veterano at this point who had put in work on the Ballas, the Families, rival Vago varrios, Condados, Rifas, Aryans, BSU, bikers Roman Boys in Sunbelt and had also beaten up homosexual inmates in prison despite harboring no homophobic views himself, he was well respected. He knew Syke O wanted to be Onda himself. The truth was, Ernesto wasn't sure i it was possible for their faction of Onda to allow it. Usually from what he understand of it in his father's day you had to be Mexican. Nowadays, like in San Andreas, you had Marabunta Grande and so while Ernesto was not aware of every single one of the 17,000 Onderos in the state as this spanned so many territories, he wasn't sure if they'd even had a Salvadoran yet made. It was just in 2013 when the San Andrean faction made a Marabunta member a carnal.

On the other hand, though Big Syke Owas not Mexican or Chicano, he was of the Uto Aztecan language family. Syke O himself was afraid of almost nothing. That Numunuu blood was pumped from a couragous heart but he was afraid of the answer being no. So he had settled for being the PVL shot caller. The reason Ernesto had agreed to make him the new shot caller in the recent months was that during his time inside, there had been a prison riot. He had been stabbed in the chest and he had stabbed other members including a BSU member named Anthony "Two Time" Gunderson who had ended up doing seven years for the president of the Sunbelt chapter.

He'd had a violent reputation on the outside but he he was placed in the San Jacinto Prison on a celll block where BSU members were not present. In those days, the BSU were either PC'd or became members of more dominant prison gangs. In his case, he had joined the Aryan Table. He hadn't wanted to but a lot of Ballas had tried to beat him up and kill him for things he had done on the streets.

The funny thing was, El Syke O had heard that the gang member still loved his BSU brothers and would not assault them if any were to end up on their block. Luckily for him they hadn't as he would have likely been killed for disloyalty. But the last year, a riot had broken out a free for all, everybody against everybody and in this case the Ese's versus the Aryan Table. Two Time had stabbed him twice in the chest and he had stabbed Gunderson the same amount of times in the stomach. Both men had to have surgery. Neither were penalized as neither had shanks in hand when they were brought to the infirmary.

Two Time got out before Big Syke O did. He wanted revenge and he knew the motherfucker lived in a more affluent suburb in Sunbelt but had not had the time to find out which one. But the Aryan Table was not a gang you could just walk away from so even if he was tryin to keep his nose clean, he was likely calling some shots from the surburbs even if he didn't want to. For his own family's sake. It was only a matter of time before possibly, Ryan ordered him dead for betrayal.

Ernesto could not, however tell the truth to Syke O either. He wanted to tell him but he couldn't. A proposal had been brought up to make him Onda, it seemed circumventing the Mexican rule or at least including other Indigenous inmates and it made sense to do so too because in addition with Chicanos, inside, Syke O had clout with his fellow northern tribesmen too and had even been in sweat lodges and had backed them up when various Aryan goons had tried to punk them for their commisary. He had even had kids with a female guard from the Cado tribe that was in New Austin as well as being Indigenous to the land east of it. She was a former guard at New Austin prisons but now, she worked at Sudan helping south side affiliated inmates and US tribal inmates best she couldd but she was wanting to quit.

Ernesto didn't want to curse another young man to this life. Ernesto knew it was both an honor and a curse to be what he was. It was his family legacy but he didn't want to put another gang member where he was. To have to decide between having a normal life as you could if you dropped out of your street gang, or being in a prison gang that was blood in blood out. He almost had wanted to tell Marcus Roman that more than anything, he wanted to drop out. He told his law abiding childen this and they encouraged him to do so. Carmen was the only one who knew it was too risky to do given that Miguel was and there was no promise the youngest son would do the same.

But his own camaradas in the streets would not understand. They looked to him for leadership and if he bailed, where did that leave them? Plus he would be green lit for defecting. Thus putting his family at risk. Marcus Roman, he felt on the other hand, was ex BGA. He wasn't in with his own gang and while that did get him a green light too, if anybody would understand it would be him. But Ernesto would not snitch. It was more risky to drop out without snitching since there was no protection. So he had to see this through and he knew Miguel did as well but sometimes, he thought of just taking the whole family away. They could go to where Lupe was living

Ernesto had stayed up long nighs thinking about it. Maybe the best thing for Miguel if he wouldn't drop out was to go to prison? Except that he knew that no good father wanted that either for his son but it was the only way they could move on and Miguel could be in good standing still. He just didn't know what to do.

"What do you want me to do, jefe?" Asked the Comanche. "There's a man I need killed. From the Ballas. He needs to understand where he's the 662 Ballas Mafia. He's laying low. 3rd Ward."

"How? I thought the 3rd doesn't like out of town LS rag shit?"

"Eso realmente no importa. Los Ballas han estado en el tercer pabellón desde los años 90, cuando comenzaste a ver que esa mierda sucedía mucho. Esto fue antes de tu"

(That doesn't really matter. The Ballas have been in the 3rd ward since the 90's that's when you started to see that shit happen a lot. This was before your time.)

"Multa. ¿Cómo quieres que haga esto? Puedo entrar y salir con solo unos pocos hombres. Podemos hacerlo fuerte o silencioso. Tu llamada," He replied.

(Fine. How do you want me to do this? I can get in and out with just a few men. We can do it loud or quiet. Your call. )

"Eres un veterano, ahora. No tengo que decirte cómo atar tus zapatos. Usted ya sabe. Tú decides qué es lo mejor."

(You're a veterano, now. i don't have to tell you how to tie your shoes. You already know. You decide what's best.)

The muscular bald Native American thought a moment scratching his chin. "Supongo que sería hacerlo de una manera que los sacos de pelota sepan qué pasa, pero que no deje ninguna pista para los chotas. ¿Verdad?"

(I guess it would be to do it in a way that the ball sacks know what's up but to not leave any clues for the ?)

Ernesto gave a nod. "One more thing. There's a couple more names. Anybody with the last name Roman in tabs on them. The ones that are left. They're still at war. But it seems like Marcus doesn't care enough about them to look for revenge on their behalf."

"Why don't you send me after the rest of those Bullshitter renegados ? I can take off the dickies and the panos and dress up more like how the BSU do. i can get to him. I can cut their throats and be outta there.

"I don't doubt your ability, Joey. At all. But subtlety isn't your strong suit. Maybe...if you can do this...as loud as you need to do it while still showing discipline...then maybe I'll take you up on it. Send you after a few of the Militias right hand men."

"It just aint right, man. Some taibos and tutybos thinking they run this city...fuck that shit. Not while I'm here."

"Joseph...what do you want for yourself, man? Is this what you really want? To be Onda? Forget what you heard about how you gotta be Mexican cause that's not true. It once was but given that this state used to be Mexico before it was a Republic and before it was El Norte, your people were here. So at least by that definition you're one of us. Gavachos can't tell South Western Indios from a paisa anyway and they mistake the two. But is Onda really want you want? I'd be lying if I said my life hasn't had good in it. Yeah, I've had good times. I had the best hyna even if we hit some bumps in the road...I got a good family and...even with Luis gone...i still cherish every memory I had. We had funny. Parties...Yeah there were gunfights and it was good when we got over on our enemies but no war comes without casualties. But the mother of my children was executed by the state, hermanito. My oldest son got shot by the juras in LS. Most of my family's on the straight and narrow but Miguelito? He's either headed down Luis's path or my path. I don't want either one but it's too late."

Syke o sighed. "I haven't thought about it in a really long time, jefe. I used to want to work with cars, man. Like Ranfla magazine? The car club culture man. From here to San Andreas. That was always the shit. But I couldn't afford one of them cars myself. No job I got in the neighborhood was gonna get me one. Parents couldn't afford it either. That's just how it is for me. It doesn't matter if I lived with my family here...or in Oklahoma. Or even in Loiusiana..." Ernesto remembered, "I'd be poor. So I did what I saw. I was born into this shit. Whether I would have lived on the rez or in the barrio, man. It don't matter. They turned this state into one giant rez and barrio. BOTH. When it used to just be free plains. I can't imagine living up in Oklas. Or up here."

"But you got familia in both states...you gotta think about them..." Ernesto insisted.

"I haven't seen them in years..." Stated Syke O. "It aint that I don't care but...shit...it is that I don't care, man! I only seen some of them in family reunions.I haven't seen my primos in Loiusiana in fuckin ten years bro..."

Just then, La Tortura burst in. "El mero mero! We got bad news. It's Sucia...she's gone..."

"How?" He demanded. "We had a shootout with some busters...they hugged the line between our hood and lasted fifteen minutes. It was last night. Five wounded five dead. I think...I think Sucia was the target, E."

"She don't even bang anymore...it was that puta from the Rifas...that bitch..."

"There was some mayate there with them..." Lady Casper stated. "I think it was Roman. He was pissed. He was told they were going after a shot caller. He thought it was gonna be South West. Then midway in...they told him it was an Azteca. Then they said the Azteca shot caller wasn't there...you..." She said looking. So they made it seem like to him she was a hit out of wrong place wrong time but that's just what they said to him.

Ernesto knocked over his tequila bottle on his desk. "HIJO DE LA CHINGADA!" He then grabbed Syke O by the shirt. "Where the fuck were you?!"

"I was there. I was coming to tell you about it, man. But you put me in charge of the varrio. You're supposed to lay low. You don't want EVERYBODY knowing you're a carnal! Y me? i was laying low and i didn't see Sucia go down, man! i thought it was just some random lady and I high tailed it the fuck outta there."

Ernesto told the two to give him a minute. "I think that hyna is somebody Task is sweet on homes..." He said taking a breath. "I might have to talk to Mark again. See if he knows anything. See if it was him...or one of the chanates the Rifas ally with. There's a small chance if they were feeling ballsy it was a 52 but I doubt it. My gut says it's Mark."

"How do you know this shit, homes?"

"Had Task followed. I got nothing against the kid but we've been watching him. Haven't done anything and we've kept his secret from Adayh for now...no reason to poison a friendship. But I think Task is playing both sides. I can't say for sure."

La Tortura and Lady Casper were listening outside the door. "But Sucia was an old girlfriend..and a friend all my life. She was like family. Even after she just said she just wanted to be friends."

"Task is trying to push on her, homes? Does he know she almost gave it up to that mayate? I know I was locked down but even I heard of this fool. I don't know if he's heard of me but if h has it's only by rep not face. He shouldn't want to bang a chica that was gonna fuck one of them."

"It''s not the same as fucking him. Intent aint the same as doing."

"I knew a Mexican chica who had a thing for Arab dudes, vato. She always was learning Arab style music and belly dancing and shit. And it's the same with this buster puta. if she probably watches black porn then crossing that line wouldn't have been much of a leap for her. Just like that puto was probably staring at arab dick all day. if somebody like that tries that in my neighborhood? They're gone, man. But the Rifas tolerate that shit. If he's working for busters he is a buster, man. I say we light him and her up. Whether they hook up or just stay friends there's gotta be pay back."

"Hey...I'm no hater of puppy love or whatever it is between Task and this catorce skonka. She wants to give him some pussy homes I aint stopping her. I'll give her a warning for Task's sake. And that if she fucks up again, we'll take more drastic measures. But they were after you. So I leave the planning to you. I want to be there when you do it though."

They got into a light blue Voodoo and Syke O made some calls. "By the way...how do you know Adayh?" Asked Ernesto. "I taught him how to speak Numunu. He's good people."

"Just in case...keep that vato in your speed dial. You haven't seen him in a couple years right?"

"Not since before I got inside."

"It's too bad you won't let me kill La Cheta. I'd off the bitch just on the fact that she's from Argentina..." Stated Syke O.

"Half. And she's from here."

"Still, homes. Fuck Argentina. Except for 3% of them that matter it's mostly blancos. And Argentina and Chile stole land from Bolivia. They're just countries of mostly jueros trying to compete for who's more stuck up. Everybody hates Argentina, bro. Everybody."

"What about the 3 % Indios in Argentina?"

"Don't mean she's got that in her. Chances are probably not. She gets brown skin from her sangre out here. I bet those Argentinians hate being schooled on economics and transparency from Chile a country with a lot of Mapuches..."

Syke O insisted. "She'll survive. If she's a fighter she'll survive."

Winnipek, Manitou

Concrete Warriors

May 7, 2015

Shep, Dawn, Chogan Little Joe and Ace stood out in the rain. Raymond was doing yet another concert. He hadn't become a millionaire in terms of just album copies sold from his latest album but rather the money he made off this one combined with his other albums. He had saved hundreds of thousands of dollars here, hundreds of thousands there until it added up. Their homeboy was a hero in rez's across Canada and the Midwestern United States and was gaining a slow but sure fan base in the west and east coast parts of indian Country too.

But while they had a musician loyal to the Red Warriors, at the same time, they were out a soldier since he had to be their legit front now. The war with the Triads had not died down. Just as it hadn't with any of the black gangs, the Angels of Death or the Indian Clique or Tribal Syndicate. Having been pushed out of Teranto and losing their turf there was a serious blow to morale and so was Aila's death. Every homeboy and homegirl from Winnipek to Sâskwatôn, Sîpîwan knew he hadn't done what he was convicted of and now with an informant against Lucifer forcing the president to go in hiding confirmed it. Now this meant that his VP was now president.

Shep stared at Ox. "You know..." The big Cree man said staring down the Jamaican and his posse. "The last time we trusted you...we made an alliance to take down the Dead Beats together. But then after the hotel you just tucked your tails between your legs. You stood as much to gain from the growing hash business as we did! Did you know that shit is starting to become moe in demand down in Michigan?"

"Listen ta me, seen. Don't you never figure me for a coward, bloodclot! Me not afraid of dem Angels. But me have an understanding with the Triads. Your war with Dragon Circle's bad for business, mon."

"That's our business. They killed a good friend of ours. That's not something we take likely. I can't ask you to have enough heart to go against the Chinese. We can pursue that our own way. But at least have enough honor to remember the deal we made to take out the Dead Beats. Remember...they killed a lot of your soldiers too and as far as I can see it you lost influence in Teranto too. Even though black gangs have a stronger hold on the eastern cities than any of us do. You got the numbers. Why would you ever let the Angels push you around?"

"Nobody pushes me around. You want see fire rain from da skies? We making a move tonight. Da president of da Saskwaton chapter of da Angels is back in town. He been sending him nomads to back Lucifer, seen? Just cause he got ya back here in Winnipek and out of Teranto don't mean da war won yet."

"Why is the president of the Sîpîwan charter of Dead Beats here?"

"Because dey are showing support for der main mon Lucifer. He's respected as a veteran in da biker wars, seen? Him blown up his enemies."

A Jamaican Canadian with carmel colored skin short dread locks and freckles indicating mixed heritage added, "They're raising up a lot of money for his defense fund. This isn't the first time Lucifers been through a high profile case. He beat that last case. They think that he has a chance of beating this one too if they throw enough money at it."

Shep stepped close to the Yardies. Ox's bodyguards raised their Uzis at him and Chogan raised up a Stryker while Little Joe aimed his 9mm at them and Dawn, unwilling to fuck around, aimed an AK-47. If something were to happen and a shootout broke out, even if the Warriors could and would kill the Yardies, Shep would be mowed down too given how close he was. He walked up as if the guns were not on him almost as if oblivious.

"Here's my problem...now I know making a deal with uS,hash or not came with risks. And because of the Dead Beats, that really did a number on your business. But that's true with any organization you make a deal with. What allies can you say you have who don't have enemies? In that gunfight we TRIED to minimize loss. And we would have warned you if we had known. But my sources on the streets tell me you had wind of the Dead Beats coming after us. Maybe one phone call and Aila wouldn't have been taken and one of my best gunmen wouldn't be in lockup."

"Everybody hears rumors on da streets..." Said Ox with a sneer. "Me no have time fi gossip. Ya have to discern what's true and what's lies. You want to move forward we can but da Angels are a powerful enemy to have."

"I'll tell you what..." Shep said. "As far as Lucifer? We're gonna find him before the RCMP does. And we're taking down the rest of his chapter and any other chapter that gets in our way. But we can move forward. If you bring me these men..." He reached in his pocket and the Uzi wielding gangsters twitched. "Calm, bredren..." Advised Ox. He showed him pictures from a traffic camera. it was of the Triads that killed Danny. "These midgets are dug in good. They see guys with tattoos and braids coming at them in a pickup truck they're liable to start shooting and get their men out of dodge. You can get to them easier. Your turf in Teranto aint compromised."

"What else would be in it for us?" Asked the freckled Yardie. "You can have whatever smack you find on them to do with as you see fit. I can promise they'll have something on them."

He nodded at Chogan for the younger brother to send a quick text out. Chogan did so with one hand on the shotgun and on on the phone, multitasking. While it wasn't practical and would surely have dangerous recoil if he had to shoot before the text was sent, it would take out at least one Yardie if need be.

"Now we wait..." Shep stated.

Chogan spoke up as he got a text. "We gotta go. The Dead Beats are on the move."

"Where?" Asked Ox. "They're just past down town riding through the West End..." Stated Chogan.

They loaded into Chogan's truck. "Come on..."

Ox walked around to the front. "We can back ya up. Dead Beats won't be running in small numbers. Ya think ya can handle dem with just your numbers?"

"We have before..." Stated Shep. "i did time at the Mountain too you forget...max security. These Dead Beats are a cake walk. Bunch of oxy fiends and meth heads. They may be craZy but it doesn't do much in the way of thinking power."

"If thinking power is what you're going for..." Stated the assimilated Jamaican who Dawn heard them call Raymond, "Then it makes more sense for us to go after them together. Cut em off. Blacks and Indians working together. You don't see that?"

"I never wanted or needed that..." Shep stated. "We're business associates with vested interests, sure. But we're not brothers."

"You don't think we should consider it?" Dawn asked. "I think we should give them a chance..." Ace stated. "These guys are better than the Project Boys. And if they end up being a pain in the ass they can end up like them."

"Da same can be said for you, " Barked Ox. Ace grinned behind his sunglasses. "Hey if you want to volunteer to be bullet fodder between us and the Dead Beats who am I to argue with that?" He chuckled turning to Shep. "Les Américains avaient un mot pour ça, non? Opération des lignes de front?"

Shep stated, "All right. Let's say we let you come with us. What do you propose?"

"Da black man is good at chasing dem down da whites. Suburbanite, copper or Angel. Everybody fear da NIGGA. We chase dem hit dem from behind. You can be in front waiting to spring a trap. Apache style, seen?"

"You watch too many westerns, homes..." Stated Shep. Dawn agreed. "Yeah, we're Cree. And this isn't horseback. It'll take them less time to get to where they're going than it will for us to set up to where they're gonna be."

"It doesn't have to be anything fancy..." Ace said. "We already got the truck..."

Shep sighed. "All right I can call up some friends from the West End and Central hoods. We'll box them in. If you're coming with us, Ox then I guess you'll come at them from the east. We'll get west of them and meet up with our neechies from the west end neighborhood."

Dawn agreed with this plan adding, "And we'll have some Central shooters come at them from the north and south."

"Me have one question. How do ya know about dis?"

"We got a couple of crooked pigs on the payroll. Watching these assholes. It's safer if they talk to me on the burner phones theirs and mine rather than Shep. I may have gotten into trouble as a minor but I don't got a record as an adult. Shep's a felon. They'll let us know each checkpoint. They're off duty but let's just say we're paying those fuckers a little over time for recon..."

Raymond stated, "All right. Ox will meet all of you out there. The four of us..." He said referring to a man with a shaved head and dark skin wearing a bright green jacket over a black t shirt and blue jeans standing at six feet plus a female with short dread locks and a green and yellow halter top and black jeans, standing at 5'5, and a man who was half Jamaican and half Afro Canadian with his hair cut into a high top fade wearing a black puffy jacket and white t shirt blue baggy jeans and Hinterland boots but had an African medallion necklace around his neck to represent his Jamaican heritage in addition to the urban wear. He stood about 5'10. "We're going after your Triads. Just gimme your info and we'll go after the guys in your pictures. I know the Triads and their spots."

The Warriors made sure Raymond got a text with the pictures from the traffic camera. As Raymond got into his Rumpo he stated, "I guess that explains how you got these pictures too. Your contacts..."

With that, Shep began to drive off. He texted Ox the details as to where the Angels would be. Shep had an Spas 12 shotgun, while Ace had a C3 Rifle. They began to drive up the road heading through downtown. The Angels hadn't gone out yet past that point. "Are you sure about this shit? Getting in bed with them again? I mean the Yardies are dangerous motherfuckers, man and they'd be a bad enemy to have if things go wrong I thought you don't wanna work with them either, Shep?"

"I don't but it's like Ace said. The more people there are to shoot at the less likely it'll be one of us."

"Yeah but now that we got the West End and Central neechies coming it can just as easily be one of them that gets a bullet. That's something I want to ask you, Shep..." Dawn stated. "I know you want a better world for ou people whether it comes from gang banging and criminality or a revolution some day. But at what cost?"

"I hate to break it to you, Dawn but all wars have casualties. I wish I hadn't lost a lot of the people I have in my life. Friends i grew up with, drinking buddies, cell mates, but all wars cost lives. And we're in a war every day just to even live in Canada. When it first happened to me...I was emotional about it. Real broken up the way you were with what happened to Dawn. The way Paul is even more so. But...after a while I got used to it. Numb even. You stay in this game long enough, it's not a big deal."

"That's no way to live! I want to be stronger than I am every day it's all about progress but I don't want to ever not care when one of our neechies get killed!"

"I didn't say I don't care..." Shep said. "It just don't hurt anymore. And I can't cry anymore. I aint cried in about...five to seven years."

"That's not healthy. Everybody should cry including our men and I know I'm outnumbered here on that but it's true. Holding it in can damage you internally."

"You know how women are always saying men don't cry enough? Did you ever think women cry too much? Especially with the fake tears. It gets to a point where some of us stop caring."

"Well if you can't tell a real woman crying versus faking that's your fault..." She said. "I miss Aila and I miss Paul. None of my tears have been fake."

"It's not that..." Shep said. "I just stopped caring either way so no matter what no woman can ever play me. I'm not saying I hate women. I'll still do the friends with benefits thing, respect their minds and bodies. But relationships are bullshit. Unless it's family."

"The family that lays together stays together..." Chuckled Little Joe. Chogan rolled his eyes. "That's not what he meant you fuckin retard."

"I think you might just be a sociopath..." She stated. "You're probably right..." Shep admtted his brown eyes widening with realization as he stared at the road ahead. "Nah, my bro cos hardcore but he can't be a sociopath. Sociopaths kill animals for fun. Shep's only done it to hunt and even then he made sure to bring em down in one hit. No suffering..." Observed Little Joe.

"It's true..." Shep said. "I would slit the throats of ten people to save one I'm not even a vegan! I just know they're better companions than people are."

"Even our own people?" Asked Chogan. "Even our own..." Confirmed Shep. "I'm proud to be what we are don't get me wrong and I prefer our company to anybody else's. But it still stands to reason even if you have a chosen few of friends, whether they be the same as you or different, the vast majority of people are awful. And that's how I see it."

"I don't think dad would agree with that..." The youngest brother said. "I don't give a shit what that asshole thinks , bitch..." Growled Shep.

The song Concrete Soldier by Litefoot played.

If it was liberty and freedom these suckers aint seeing

this Native brother cause he aint a European

So I cock back 40 Glocks strapped

then level out them sights

which punk dies tonight?

Soldiers out there waiting on a mission

Crazy Horse tats, masks with the night vision

We're braided down and even bald headed Indian pride fuck with that you get sweated

Over in South Dakota even in Minnesota

We're Red till we're dead fool I thought I told ya?

You can't fuck with me and my side and,

trip my warriors down to start riding

Race tripping for the ones that died before us

I'm nutting up the man can't ignore us

I'll be the leader for whoever wants to follow

the warrior motto if one goes we all go

They pulled up parking as they soon could hear the convoy of motorcycles. Shep's phone got a call. "Yeah?" Ox was on the line. "We've got dem in sight. Looks like about twenty of dem, seen?"

"All right, keep your distance. When they get in closer, you can engage them. Wait for our boys to arrive to cover the north and south though," He hung up and the Warriors continued to listen to Litefoot.

With my heart up in it

I hear they got some bitches that need killing in the Senate

Set it off and let the spirits out to creep

cardiac arrests my ancestors in his sleep

That's right I'ma show ya I told ya I'm a concrete soldier

That's right I'ma show ya I told ya I'm a concrete soldier

Dawn got a text. "Central Dubs are coming in. They're gonna cover the south..." Before long, three cars, a dark red Voodoo, a black Dominator and an aqua blue Tornado pulled up. The first car had a somewhat overweight gang member carrying a Shotgun. A Metis youth with yellowish skin and a somewhat squished looking face and messy black hair. He was a Miq'maq and was from the same rez as Aila's father whers she got her Miq'maq blood. His name was Ralph and he had been a childhood homie of had sold weed together as teenagers as Aila had been split in custody between parents she was often at her mothers rez one week and her fathers another. The next was an angry twenty five year old, a Cree man born and raised in the Central neighborhood. He was normally a jolly fat guy but with Aila's death he was smiling less. He had an M4.

Next was a man who had dark brown hair and lightbrown skin and a muscular build his arms being the most ripped of them all. He wore a plaid flannel jacke black and white to be exact and he had a red bandanna over his face. His name was Jared Rain. Next was Patricia Crowshoe, a Cree woman of specifically plains Cree ancestry. Her eyes were pretty and black her skin like caramel and her hair was in small dreadlocks.

Shepard had once criticized her for it saying she was trying to be something she wasn't until she shut him up by showing him a picture of Crees from the 1800's who had that hairstyle. She didn't always wear it that way but sometimes she did as her own way of feeling like a warrior of old. Because her initials were PC most people either called her PC or Patty Cakes. When she'd done a few years a women's correctional facility, a few Angels Of Death groupies that had been arrested with their men had tried to say it stood for Protective Custody. She had beaten the woman who had said this and force fed her her own hair. She carried a Remington wore a black midriff top and black jeans under a brown fur coat with white fur on it.

The guy in the passenger side was a gang leader and strip club owner named Daryl Morris, a Metis man of Cree descent who had his hair cut into a mohawk but in the Pawnee style that was associated with punk rock, not the lesser known Iroquian style. He had large intense hazel eyes and a muscular build on his right arm was a tattoo of a map of the Manitou province. He stood 5'11 and he ran the set for the Central neighborhood. He carried an Uzi.

Next was a woman named Kaylee Tailfeather a woman in her early 20's with medium brown skin back length black hair and brown almond shaped eyes. She wore a white blouse under a red jacket and blue stonewashed jeans and she carried a IWI Tavor X95. The man driving the car was half Saultreaux Indian and half black. He had dark brown skin and almond shaped eyes but his hair was curly a feature he got from his black side, while the skin was from both and his eyes from his Native side. He also had a goatee that he owed to his black ancestry but the cheek bones were from his Native blood. He wore a gray wife beater and baggy blue jeans and he carried an AKM. His name was Adrian Southwind.

From the West End gang, there was two cars. A purple Glendale in which four RW members got out each carrying a more powerful weapon than the last. It was the West Enders who took orders from Shep. Though he had skipped town and had a different de facto leader, he had just been trying to get home to his brothers and after all their territory was both here in Manitou as well as Wentario. The defacto leader was there too the same as his soldiers. He was a man perhaps 50 lbs overweight standing at 6'1 with short hair in a skater cut and he was in his early 30's. He actually worked as a bouncer at Dary'ls strip club. They called him Jumbo but his real name was William Sloan.

Just then, they heard the motorcycles coming followed by gunfire as the bikers tried to retreat from the Yardies while also returning fire. As Litefoot finished off his song, the loud beat was like a war song for the Warrriors.

Celebrate with C4 on Independence Day

War paint with the Glock in each hand

my homies got my back Indian Mafia Clan

Down to put in work for my whole family tree

Outta 500 tribes who's that wicked OG?

With no remorse scalp your player hating corpse

Steel and bulletproof glass on my E class Horse

Hit you up hunt you down in any town

& never rest till you're buried in the ground.

That's right I'ma show ya I told ya I'm a concrete soldier that's right I'ma show ya

I told ya I'm a concrete soldier

Shep fired as a Freeway came around the corner and he hit the prospect riding shotgun with a blast to the righ arm. The Angels had already had four of their own shot in the pursuit by the Yardies. Daryl yelled "Burritos coming in heavy!" Three Angels gang burritos were coming from the south with the passengers firing at the road block that the Warriors had set up. The Warriors bombarded the Angels with rounds, however, Shep gritting his teeth as he unloaded into an Angel's face. The convoy split into chaos as their center was destroyed.

Little Joe fired both pistols like a western flick and he dropped two Angels off their motorcycles. Chogan also fired striking an Angel Enforcer in the helmet. Blood, hair and pieces of skull and helmet hit the ground hard. The Yardies came in hard smashing into the Angels from the rear. Dawn rattled with her AK as much as the bikers she hit as the rounds stung their bodies like angry wasps. "FUCK YOU!" She screamed in rage. "FUCK ALL OF YOU! I HATE YOUR CLUB!" She emptied her magazine dropping four of them. Ace carefully picked off a man who had crashed and had a compound fracture in his right arm. "The man was a greasy haired red headed male with a messy goatee and who stood six feet and was about forty pounds overweight. Fuck with the Manitou Warriors you die, bitch!" He yelled before putting four rounds into the Angel's nose.

The Angels returned fire an Uzi striking a Warrior in the chest and both legs. The president also fired a sawed off shotgun and managed to hit one of the West End Warriors in the back as he tried to get to cover behind his violet car. A wounded Angel laying on his stomach fired a 9mm and he already had three shots in him one in his left foot another had destroyed his right hand and a third hit his left shoulder blade all from Chogan. The 9mm rounds hit Adrian in the chest twice. Kaylee finished him off with a shot to the back. With a final volley of rounds before running dry, the dying Angels did take down the remaining West End gangsters who had been four to a car but the Central ones were still alive. The Yardies had lost six people in total.

Among the men crashed was the president of the chapter himself. Arthur Mahoney, a forty five year old Caucasian with graying brown hair an blue eyes and a graying beard. He had once served time with Shep. "What the fuck, Shepard?! You have any idea what the club will do to you for this?! What happened to that gash is nothing, man! We'll bring down biblical vengeance on you redskinned bastards1 You're fuckin marked!"

Shep sneered. "I've already had a contract on my head by you Dead Beat assholes for years. Both in the Mountain and on the streets and none of you could get me. Better jizz skins than you have tried..." This earned a laugh from the other Warriors as well as the Yardies at the gang leaders racial slur. " But you are prez. There's no denying how huge that is. I can't say i've ever done that. You know how some say that if you kill people they'll be your slave in the afterlife? It's buallshit but it's the principal. You don't have a soul though. But I'll find a use for you..."

He turned to the Jamaicans. "You call me when you've got my Chinese carry out."

With that, they scooped up the president.

4 Hours Later

Shep stood over Arthur with the bloodied knife. The Angel screamed but it was in vain as Shep had music blasting. He was also recording this. He had a ski mask on to protect his own identity should any Angels show this to the cops. He turned the camera to Arthur. He had cut away all the flesh from his face leaving only the ugly red mass of flesh below and bare teeth grinning among the dripping red as he had also cut away Arthur's lips. He then proceeded to cut his eyes out and finally the man could scream no more his mouth open in shock. " President has a hell of a foul mouth. I want him to watch his mouth..."

He put his eyeballs on a spoon. "Now, Art. I want you to say ahhh. Come on, buddy. Here's the airplane!" He force fed the Angel to eat his own eyeball chewing it and veins and blood popped and squirted. "You know they say the eyes are the window to the soul..." The large Cree said. "I can't tell what's in a man's soul. I still think you have no soul. Can't tell by looking in your eyes, anyway. So this is the ONLY other way I can think of to see your soul!" He forced fed him his other eye but did not allow him to chew. He almost choked to death on it. Shep had a .50 Desert Eagle he ha taken off one of the Angels. "So how about it, buddy boy? Do you see into your own soul?" Blood and spit was all over the eyeball. He forced it down.

The Angel screamed. Shep yelled, "SWALLOW iT BITCH!" Shep laughed as the man went into shock. He put the barrel to his stomach and pulled the trigger. The round came out of his back and Shep spread his already gaping wound open with both hands feeling his hot bloody sticky ripped and ripped until he got to the man's gut pulling out the undigested eyeball. It had already started to be dissolved by the acid. Dawn watched this happen. "You know, I know you want to be as brutal as a warrior from 130 years ago but we got modern diseases that weren't around back then you sick freak! Plus these Dead Beats are drugged out and diseased as it is."

The Jamaicans watched most in horror except Ox. Shep looked at them as if everything was normal and he hadn't just done what he did. "How was the fishing? Did you find anything?"

"Three kilos. Dey must have wanted to offload da shit and send whatever money dey could to help da Angels. It aint just Lucifer getting jammed up, seen? A lot of full patched members been caught by da crown opening up cold cases even. Somebody's talking."

"Well, I'm a man of my word. I expect you to hold up your end of the bargain. The men that killed Danny. And while you're at it if any of you can get Sun Kang, that always helps too."

Just then, Ox got a phone call and began speaking in full Pattois. "Shit! Me boy, Raymond. Dey got one of da two bumbaclots you was after but we lost one of me soldiers, Sheldon! And Raymond been shot. Him in critical have to tend to me flock! Dis war with da Triads be too costly. After today, we lay low and no more warrin' with da Tongs, seen?"

"I can live with that. Once vengeance is satisfied, I have no more reason to fight them any farther. I know Sun Kang wouldn't want to leave it there with that but since we're not in Teranto anymore, he's a ways away."

"They got Dragon Circle out here, bro..." Chogan warned. "True. But if any of them try and show up in the West End or Central, they won't make it back to Chinatown alive."

Sunbelt

Three Days Later

Mark walked up to Cheetah arriving for the meeting. The other Rifas were present as well in usual red and turquoise clad clothing. "You said you were unsure about this meeting so I got ya'lls back. But just so we're clear you better not ever mislead me like that again. I mean ever. That was a dangerous game you're playing. Does this Azteca shot caller you were gunning for even exist?"

"He does, man..." Felon swore. "Since Miguel's his number two...being the little shit he is and I mean that literally, homes...this piece of shit was his number three."

Mark chuckled. "What is number three anyway? Ejaculation or throwing up? We always debated that..." Cheetah scolded, "This is serious. This motherfucker we're meeting with...he's kind of like you okay...he dropped out right...word is he was a snitch too either way he dropped out and the feds put him in witness protection."

"Don't sugarcoat it, Cheetah. This vato's the real deal but he did snitch. He was an NS shot caller for years out in San Andreas. But his own homies green lit him saying he was a snitch when he wasn't. It didn't matter the word was out he was on the street the vatos that were supposed to hit him were out. Any Rifa from Northern to Central San Andreas was gunning for him. So he dropped a dime but that was after they fucked him over first. I don't condone snitching but it's like how you gonna get at dudes already serving life? All you can do is help bury them further in the system and fuck with their money, man. See them Bay Area shooters? They understand. You hurt a man's pockets you win."

Cheetah explained, "We...for lack of a better way of putting it...with Animal gone and all those homies the Va Ho's hit, we don't got a big homie calling shots but if we're ever gonna make real progress in this town we need somebody like that."

Mark crossed his arms. "Let's see if I understand this right. YOU want to work for an NS dropout? A snitch at that?"

"It didn't stop you from doing what you do..." Cheetah admitted. "Look at how you are. You run the BSU whether you like it or not you're a better leader than Ryan. I don't know how you're not the chapter president. You run the wards. You're a king in New Arcadia. I just want to sit on my own throne in Sunbelt. I want a crown with rubies. Never sapphires..." This remark earned an eye roll from the Creole but the former statement earned his verbal response which was longer.

"Because as much as I got on my plate things could always be worse..." Roman shot back. "And at least with the 3rd ward and the 17th ward I'm dealing with adults. Outside of my own inner circle, most BSU can't hold their own still. We showed them tricks you know. Seriously. You should have seen how often I made them go to target practice. But when I was out of town they didn't practice. That's not on me. Shooting a gun and being accurate with it is like learning another language. Now you and me we're bilingual but if we were to try and learn something else, we might do good at it as long as we kept at it but the second we slack off you get rusty. I'd say just about every one of the BSU Sunbelt chapter has handled a gun before. But I can't hold their hands. They have the money to go to the range but they chose not to. They keep going to Agnostic Front shows and fighting Thunderskins but then when Thunderskins pull a fuckin Walther they act surprised when they get shot."

"Yeah well that's just what I'm saying, homie..." Cheeta said. "You're like somebody that went to witness protection only it's like you don't even care how the BGA sees you. Or anybody. And the NS...they might make moves in some cities in this state but Sunbelt's a hard one to crack. The scrapas made sure we don't get an official foothold. Not like Blackwater. But if we can't be official we can always be unofficial. This vato left witness protection cause he didn't want to be protected by the pigs. So he's saying fuck the NS and the police! But still, a Nuestra Syndicato heavy weight even a dropout has enough street knowledge to help us take this city for ourselves. Don't you want that?"

Felon chimed in, "Yeah, man. Think on it. Why should Sunbelt be a place without structure? The sewer ratas try to run the show but they can't even run out all their enemies. Ernesto only finally ran out a block of Condados but there's still the 52's, there's regular Families, Ballas, other Condado cliques. Us? We could take over Gulfton Heights. We could take all of South West Sunbelt. You run New Arcadia. We run Sunbelt. We can have another stronghold for the Norte besides Blackwater. Let those pinche scrapas have their owns like El Camino and St Anthony. We can take the more popular city."

They knocked on the door to the seemingly abandoned house. "There's nobody home..." Marcus insisted. "Nah, that's bullshit..." Stated a male Rifa of Mexican American and Kiowa Indian ancestry with dark brown skin and slicked back black hair and somewhat yellow teeth from coffee wearing a red and black flannel plaid jacket and black jeans shorts. "One of the little homies saw a vato matching his description go in there."

Felon made his way in. Just then he heard a clicking sound and felt cold steel at the back of his head. A .50 Desert Eagle to be exact. "The fuck you want?" Demanded the veterano. He was a middle aged gangster with jet black curly hair and a black beard but it was graying with age giving his facial hair a salt and pepper look to it. He was muscular and stood 6'2 but he had a look to him as though he was strong but he had a weakness. He wore a dark brown and white plaid jacket over a white wife beater and he wore black jeans. He was forty five years old. "You're Yeska, right? From San Fierro?"

"Who are you?" He demanded. "La Cheeta. De Rifas. Puro catorce..."

"Yeah...I heard about vatos and hynas claiming that shit out here too. You know I was in Kansas and I was in Oklahoma. I knew fuckers from my home town wore football jerseys from those places but when I heard there's vatos in their pintas representing it I couldn't believe it. People not from San Andreas representing something they can't understand."

He then said, "Give me one reason I shouldn't splatter your homeboy's brains all over the front porch? Besides cleanup. I don't want to clean up brain matter but I will and I have..."

Mark aimed his M1911's at Yeska's face. "I'll give you nine reasons that's a bad idea. Scratch that. Make that 9 x 2. "

"If you found me, my enemigas can find me. The police can find me. And you can shoot me. It wouldn't be the first time a chanate drew a bead on me."

"Want to make it the last?" Asked Mark. "Sure. But if I go I take him with me...better yet...this is the wild west you're in. How about a dual?" Asked Yeska. "i don't do cowboy shit."

This earned a laugh even from the nerve racked Rifas. "If the shit you do on the street doesn't make you a projects cowboy, I don't know what does. You did significant damage to the AV. Of course...you're still miles behind me. I killed lot of AV during my time. But I've always wanted a crack at the Aryans out here. I would have always preferred fighting them to Vagos anyway."

"Fuck that. We wasted our time..." Felon said. "This guy's a dropout. He may as well be a scrapa."

"You don't get it do you ya fuckin chavalito. This Onda and NS bullshit is NEW to this state. It's new to most states compared to us and you're not smart for copying it. Maybe it can be said that New Austin's Onda started on its own and yeah it was called something else originally. Same with the Onda in Arizona though they had more connections to the original. But Rifas out here? They're just looking for somebody to beef with. You vatos already act black. You couldn't just be a Condado instead?"

"The color red turns me on..." Cheetah stated. "Even if I didn't beef with Vagos, Marabunta or Aztecas. Even if there was a nationwide truce I'd still be a Rifa. There's something about the color red that turns me 's the color for romance, it looks sexy on shirts, pants, it looks good on lingerie. It looks good as a skin color. I had a primo in another city that used to be a Vago. He dropped out but we saw each other at the family reunion and he asked me why I couldn't have been a Vago. I told him light blue and yellow isn't my color."

Neither mark or Yeska were sure if that was true.

"But turquoise is literally light blue..." Stated Yeska. She chuckled. "Yeah but that's Indio blue. With green in it. It's not piss yellow, it's not dark blue like the fuckin Navy and it's not baby blue the way a little girl would wear."

"Yeah?" Yeska asked. "If you're a real Rifa you'd have tried to kill him. Regardless of blood. That's how it is back in San Fierro."

"Hold up. First of all, they act black in the bay too. Not every homeboy does act that way out here but I know this hood is more hood than San Fierro! And it's not the Rifas that makes Ohlone hood. It's the blacks."

"It's EVERYBODY that makes Ohlone hood. And I aint from the punk ass east bay. I'm West Bay. But I ran six different cities. Even if I am a dropout and even if I did what they said I did...cause I had little choice, I've still forgotten more than you vatos out here ever will. What is this shit anyway? What do you want? You asking me to be el mero mero? Why?"

"You were an OG from back in the day. In the 90's. That was a rougher decade than any other as far as crime except maybe the 80's. San Fierro was pretty bad in some of those hoods out there too so I'm already knowing that..." Cheetah stated. "You were a heavy shot caller inside. Your hermano was too."

"Yeah I know my own resume. Get to the point."

"We need leadership and you need a cause. If you were serious about dropping out why leave witsec?"

He turned to Mark. "You think this is gonna end up good for you? All my friends are either dead in prison or they co signed the green light on me. Which pretty much means the vatos in prison co sign it too. But at least the ones doing life sentences will never be able to get me. But the people they send out might. That's why I haven't seen my family in over a year. It's for their own good. You're BGA. We heard about your luz verde. It was around the time I dropped out. Word reached the pintas in San An from Dockington. You've got a reputation. And it looks like you've made a name for yourself in your own city. And you retreated into New Arcadia to escape Dockington. Kind of like how vatos wanted for murder in my neighborhood went to Tijuana to escape the cops in my home state. Where as you you ran to a city with no real control over it. Chaos. And if you can be the one to run it and be in charge of a whole city, a green light from Dockington means jack shit."

Mark had a look of smugness on his face. "What can I say? Many have tried. All have failed."

Yeska turned to Mark. "You're pretty pleased with yourself, eh?Take a good long look at my face, vato. You might not be as handsome as me..." Mark chuckled. "Now who's feeling himself?"

"But you are looking into the face of YOUR future. If you don't die from going the road you're going, everybody you love and care about will. Maybe you'll have children but you'll have to abandon them. Not even cause you want to. But for their safety/. I didn't want to leave my family. But I'd rather they stay where they are."

"Bullshit. Your family would be pulled from witness protection if you ran."

"Not if I'm rumored to be dead myself. Maybe some contractors hit me? Made me vanish."

He turned to the Rifas. "Tu sabes...I got sixteen kids. And I'm proud of all of them. They're all doing their best to make better lives for La Raza. They're not really as familiar with Carcer City's gangs but they're trying to do what they can to try and make the barrios there a better place."

"Maybe it's you who needs to get to the point..." Stated Felon.

"None of them hang out on corners or sell drugs or hang in gangs."

"You did though..." Mark said. "Don't be that guy. My pops is that kind of nigga and even he can get down right hypocritical. At least I don't pretend to be a law abiding citizen. If you don't want to do it I respect that all the way I don't want the BGA life no more. But don't hide behind your kids. That's weak."

"Do you have kids, Mark?" Mark was still wierded out that the NS general knew who he was. "No."

"Then you got no idea what it's like."

"I know what it's like to have a fucked up father."

"No you don't know shit about me. I know your history. You were away from Maurice. And weren't you better off for it? The juras think I'm dead. So does my family but this way they don't have to live in fear anymore. I'm dead. They grieved and they move on."

"You don't think that scarred them for life?"

"Better they think I'm dead while I watch out for them from afar and keep an eye on any Rifa hitters that come anywhere near the Midwest than to have them actually see me gunned down in front of them. And to have them get hurt too. You don't know these vatos like I do. I know you worked with them..." He said referring to the Rifa convoy. "But let's say I thought NS in this state was legit. Even still it doesn't go as far back as ours does. If you don't got the official connection, you got no right to claim our shit."

"You're preaching to the converted..." Mark stated. "I didn't want San Andrean gangs or Carcer City gangs in my city. But San Andreas doesn't have authority over other states. I know you egotistical San Andreans have a hard time with that concept but it's true."

"If we don't then don't claim our shit! At least the vatos that claim Families can have a claim to fame that one of their OG's was from Treeport. But the Ballas in your city are a joke. They always will be. So will the UBN as a whole. If we don't have authority over other states why use our name? That's fucking stupid. It's like a religion. If you're not practicing all the tenets of if or most of it how can you claim it? I used to know a guy from the 52 Orange Grove neighborhood in South Central Los Santos. We did some jobs together. But you know what? That's a real Orange Grove Gangster. Not the bullshit 52's in Sunbelt with their Kin Nation affiliation."

He turned to the Rifas. "Rather than trying to blast your own Raza...how about learning something? I know the logic here in the south is hustle over gang banging but there is no loyalty in dealing either. You can still lose your life so I'd say don't do it. My life has been too hard to want this for any of the rest of you. I wish every Vago and every Rifa would either tie the flags together...or drop them forever. You're like the civil war fighters that shed each other's blood in Midwestern and Western states, homes. Killing each other over a war that's not in your state that you don't even understand. You should give this up like I did. Not because I said no to being your shot caller. But for your own lives. I hope I get to see my kids some day. I hope that everybody that used to be compas that green lit me die and nobody remembers me but I got no promise of that. "

"You know we can always just start over..." Cheetah said. "It's easy for you to say all that now. You didn't lose a bunch of your homies just a month ago. You haven't even been in the pen in a while. You dropped out. You're not a North Side Soldado anymore."

Mark disagreed. "That's not entirely true. A Vietnam vet might be done with the war but he'll always be a soldier."

"You're right. You can't help us..." The female said shaking her head at the former NS general. "We're gonna have to get revenge based on our own leadership. We can do our own thing if we have to. Either find some other NS compa to back us or start our own faction..."

"Now you're talking crazy..." Mark said. "This isn't like starting an Onda chapter in Arizona or this state for the first time. It's already spoken for unless you want to try and get it started in a prison that doesn't have them yet and even then you'd need to be put on before any of that could happen. He hasn't given you entirely bad advice."

"Also NS as it is in San Andreas is a boys club. If the scrapas got one advantage it's their Las Madres faction. We're better at vetting people than they are but we still haven't figured out to use hynas too?" She smiled with sass in her voice. "You're right you vatos out there started it and other states should respect and go with that. Unless there's something wrong with your program. The fact that women can't be in it is a big problem. So we can be better than you if we change that. I'd love to be the first NS woman if I can."

"Then you'll die. Simple as that..." Yeska said before shutting the door. "I don't kill based on rag colors or prison politics anymore. Now it's just about survival. Anybody that fucks with me or mi familia. Juero, moreno..." He said looking at Mark, "Chino. Norte or Sur. Or Paisa. I don't bother them unless they bother me. But if you want to be the first companera to be NS? Have fun while it lasts cause it won't last. I'll probably outlive you even though that's not the natural order!" He slammed the door.

"Fuck him..." Felon said. "He's a burnt out drop out malinche bitch..." His homegirl just shook her head in frustration. Mark, on the other hand had a curioisity about the NS member. He didn't say he doesn't kill. Just that he doesn't kill over gang affiliation.'

5 Hours Later

Ernesto and Syke O pulled spotted what Rifas were outside. La Tortura and Lady Casper were there as were six armed PVL members. "You sure that's the bitches house?" Asked Ernesto. "I did as much digging around as I could, bro. That's either her parents house or her uncle and aunties. I don't know. The buster we captured didn't seem to know that part. He just knew she visits here a lot and it is in the neighborhood."

Ernesto sighed. "Just in case, I'm gonna have Carmen get out of town. They'll be afraid to go after my son though on the other side of La Frontera. He might live in a richer part of Mexico but there are some high ranking Zero bosses living in the same area as he is. So even if these estrellas tried to go down there to retaliate against me they'd be fucked. A bunch of pochos would be caught up quick."

In a beige Bobcat was a man of Bolivian descent. He was dark skinned and either of mostly or fully Amayra ancestry. His name was Jorge Guzman but he was known on the streets as El Chongo. He was 5'5 and had his head hair was normally longer but he had shaved it to fit in with cholo culture. He had some uncles in Argentina that faced discrimination for their deep Indigenous heritage from people from Argentina who were mostly Spanish, Italian and German.

Ernesto told Syke O. "Remember. We don't kill her. We just need to let her know that what she did won't be tolerated."

"You should be wanting to exterminate her, man. She killed your old homegirl. I thought you were close with her?"

"I was. And after today, you better never mention her name again. It would be fair to kill her for it. But this is gangster shit. We don't shoot straight across. We shoot zig zagged and diagonal. that's the way it happens out here. Only this time it's intentional. She'll suffer more. You are sure whoever these are is somebody she'd miss?"

"Si mon. Not a doubt in my mind. She visits them every week."

He had also explained the way El Chongo was on the way there. Ernesto, ever since 2013, had become less and less likely to know every recruit. "He's gonna want to kill one of them, homes. From what I saw scoping the place out we got two middle aged adults and one young adult in that house."

"Fine. I'll take out one of the parents. You can kill one too. They were gunning for you."

The Comanche flashed a hand signal to El Chongo and he pulled up to where Cheetah was with one vato in the front seat and four in the back bed of the truck laying flat. He was dressed like a Paisa worker with a trucker cap on that cancelled out the dark blue flannel jacket that might have otherwise raised eyebrows. "That aint cool around here!" Yelled a Rifa, aged 19 pointing at his dark blue shirt. "No te entiendo Creo que estoy en la dirección incorrecta?" He replied.

"He's just a bracero. Chill out, homie..." Replied the Rifa. He pulled to a stop pulling a dark blue bandanna over his face as did his friend reaching for his Uzi. "Ahí es donde te equivocas, Cara De Culo..."

(That's where you're wrong, ass face)

He fired aiming at her but she got to cover but three of her homeboys were hit by the barrage of automatic rounds. "Pinche Lunfardo basura! Blanca mierda!" He yelled. She ducked behind a dark gray Washington. The other PVL in the front seat fired his AK-47 out the window. In the back of the truck popped up the other Aztecas. . The first was an Azteca named Santiago Del Rio. Homeboys called him SDR. He had light brown skin and somewhat of a chunky frame. He had blue eyes indicating being part white. He was 5'8 in height and thirty years old. He had done time in Eastern New Austin's prison system. He'd done six years and he was packing two Mac-10's.

Next was La Chichona. A somewhat sexist but accurate nickname for a chola who was actually from a different Azteca varrio than PVL but was all the same from South West Sunbelt and they were allied with PVL except their varrio was the Bellend Boulevard Locos. Bellend was the main boulevard running through Gulfton Heights. La Chichona was somewhat chubby by about 25 lbs and she wore a black haltter top with lace and no shoulders and this revealed the tattoo of a dark blue heart that said RIP Carlos the name of her deceased boyfriend.

She was of Salvadoran descent. She had long curly black hair and thick heart shaped lips and skin the color of coffee. Her real name was Olivia Calderon. For pants she wore gray dickies that showed her shapely ass but it wasn't as large compared to her E cup breasts. She had an M4A1.

The other two people in the back were also from her neighborhood. A woman of Mexican and Honduran ancestry, with a shorter haircut and goldish brown hair slanted coffee colored eyes and skin the color of tea with heart shaped lips. She wore a dark blue bandanna around her forehead, beige dickies, dark blue eris sneakers and a gray wife beater. She had an AK-47 and her nickname was Sweetie. Lastly was Honcho. He was an Azteca of 22 years old and he had done three years of juvie and had even completed High School in there while he had also done four years of adult prison.

He was a Chicano of about 5'10 in height, his family originally from Nuevo Laredo. He had a scar under a mole on his right cheek from a prison yard fight with a black guy who did not gang bang and had only hustled a guy from Blackwater he did time with. Because of the cut the man had left on his cheek, it looked like an explaination mark. He was self conscious about it even though a lot of ladies liked it saying it looked bad ass and men did too saying he looked chingon, he did not like it. He had in fact wanted to be a male model before he had went to prison. The mole hadn't stopped it. Now, he was unsure and often debated to himself about whether or not to get it surgically removed or not. Syke O, being a friend of his who had been in prison at the same time he had, had advised against it saying the scar would still be there but with the mole as the dot it sort of gave it character and warned that removing it would still result in a scar which would still probably look like a dot.

He was known by enemies and sometimes by friends as La Marca though nobody said that to his face unless they were ready to fight. His accepted barrio placa was Angel since it sounded as much like a street name as a first name. In truth, he had stabbed the dude who had stabbed him in the chest. They had wounded each other and lived. The man had even caught a staff infection after the fact but even as the man then ended up being put in protective custody to avoid retaliation from the Aztecas, he had felt proud of himself because he knew the Azteca had been a vain son of a bitch. Somehow, a stab wound to the chest even one that was almost fatal but hadn't been, just didn't compare.

He carried two Skopions. As the Aztecas fired and the six others from PVL that Syke O had show up in backup vehicles began to open fire on the Rifas, the Rifas attempted to defend themselves. A shotgun blast was fired hitting one of Syke O's soldados, a man carrying a Desert Eagle fell as the buckshot hit the man in the chest and his chin.

Ernesto fired his own Remington 1100 lighting up a male Rifa of about thirty years striking him in the stomach and chest. Syke O fired two MP7's striking down four Rifas, three of which were female. Syke O yelled to Cheeta, "I heard you were looking for me, bitch!" He fired a burst at her knowing she would get back to cover even as she fired a pistol blindly around the side of the car but he had to make it look like he was trying to get her. Ernesto called to her as well. "Bit of advice! Next time you want to hurt me, come at me directly! You knew what you were doing killing Sucia!"

"We can get at your baby boy next, Ernesto!" She growled. Just then, a Caucasian man of Argentinian descent came from the house brandishing a 20 gauge which he fired striking another PVL member in the throat. "¡Entra a la casa! ¡No dejaré que estos matones te maten!"

(Get in the house! I won't let these thugs kill you!)

El Chongo spotted the man instantly. "¡No tienes elección! ¡Tu sobrina tiene que aprender y el mejor método eres tú!" He fired a twenty round barrage but the man went back into the doorway for cover but six rounds did hit him in the gut.

(You don't have a choice! Your niece has to learn and the best method is you!)

"¡Tío Luca!" Cried the mestiza half Mexican half Argntine gang member. He fell inside the house holding his wounds but she couldn't get to him as the rounds from the other PVL members plus the Boulevard Locos fired at her and she had to take cover around the side of the house. Ernesto grabbed her in a headlock putting his .44 to her head. "Move. Take a walk inside."

Syke O was inside as was El Chongo who in a burst of rounds decorated her Uncle Luca's brains all over the floor. "¡Mi familia no les hizo nada a los bolivianos!"

"¡Cállate!" He shouted. Ernesto spotted her Aunt. The Comanche gangster forced her forward with his Rifle to her back. "You killed a woman that meant a lot to me. I know these aren't your parents but you know what they say. Aunties and uncles are like a second set of parents."

The dark haired dark eyed olive complexioned middle aged woman stood there scared out of her mind. "¿En qué te has metido?" She asked Cheeta. "Lo Siento, Tia..."

'

"Understand something..." Ernesto growled. "We did our homework. You even let Mark believe you were going after a vato from SWP but then you changed it to an Azteca shot caller. You shouldn't lie to friends like that. You and your wannabe chapete crew have been an annoyance long enough. But you didn't kill me. If you did, your whole family would die. Instead, I'm just gonna kill part of your family."

Cheeta was in tears. "Just deal with me! Por Favor! They had nothing to do with this shit!"

"I'd like to, Cheeta. But that wouldn't serve you well. I'm leaving your nuclear family alive. Unless they're already dead so maybe I didn't do ALL my homework but I did get part of your extended family. But if you try and come back at us...after the shit you pulled I'll kill your parents too."

He turned to the Comanche shot caller. Two masked up members of the Aztecas, who Syke O knew was Honcho and Sweetie. They forced a white Hispanic male forward. He had a modern black pampadour and a mustache with thin brown facial hair on his chin. He looked like a GQ type. Ernesto forced him to the floor. They turned on the radio to drown out sound. "SAY GOODBYE TO YOUR PRIMO!" Ernesto bellowed. "No..."

"DO IT!" He roared punching her in the stomach. She cried out coughing out. "Tia...primo...lo siento..." She sobbed gasping. "Attagirl..." Grinned Syke O. He pulled out a huge knife and began to cut Griseda's ears and he began to scalp her. He was doing it the way his ancestors did by starting at the ear. "The consquistadors did worse to us, bitch!" He yelled.

She cried out screaming in a way that would haunt Cheeta for as long as she would live. It was not an easy thing to do either. They had cut her deep below her ear so that they could peel the top of her head completely off. Her aunt screamed her brown eyes wide and finally she lost her voice. Cheeta, hysterical ran to her dying aunt. "NO!" Ernesto screamed. "We're going for a ride!"

Just then, Chichona came in the blue rags covering her face but she brought out a black haired fair skinned brown eyed woman as well. She was only 5'1 in height. "Who's this puta?!" She demanded. "She your cousin too?" Cheetah denied it. "That's my espousa!" Blurted out the GQ type. "Don't hurt her!" Ernesto growled, "She won't..." He fired shooting her in the back and she let out a pitiful cry as she fell over bleeding. Cheetah yelled, "YOU MOTHERFUCKERS!"

Ernesto showed them a picture of Sucia's dead body. "THIS! This is what SHE did. This is why this is happening to you!" La Chichona fired a burst of rounds into her chest and stomach all the way down and then back up to her head putting a neat clean hole in her forehead. "Your novia just shat herself. Isn't that sexy, puto?!" She asked hitting Benny with the butt of the Rifle in the face. Another PVL member, this one was named Chico a Chicano man with light brown skin and a handle bar musctache also held yet another cousin.

This one was a bit heavy set yet curvy. She had dark brown hair and light brown skin and wore a lepord print blouse and blue jeans. She was a neighbor and family friend, Tina La Paz. She had ran into their house because hers had been shot up by the invading Aztecas having put thirty rounds through her front room window. She already had a bullet wound in his right shoulder.

Chico fired his AN-94 striking the woman in the right side of the chest with twelve rounds. Aunt Griselda was still crawling around on the floor. Another Azteca, a homeboy of Syke O's of Honduran descent who was also half Filipino known as Flipper yet knew little to nothing about that side of his culture as his mother died during childbirth, fired his Glock 18 into her stomach. How she was still alive, Ernesto didn't know. He looked mostly brown in skin tone and facial features but his eyes were Asian and unlike his dad who had curly hair he had straight hair like his mother. Right now, he just looked crazy.

Chico also took Flipper's Handgun saying, "Let me see that shit, bro..." He aimed for her navel and fired. This earned more screaming from the female chola.

Ernesto forced her outside. They put her in the trunk along with her primo tying her up. The gunfight outside continued but broke up as the cops arrived. The PVL had lost four gang members to the defense of the Rifas as well as SDR who fell with seventeen rounds from an Assault Rifle as a Rifa fired at them as they tried to retreat. They drove for hours with the two in the trunk. They were surely having what would be their final conversation. "Well that shit was fun...we should do this more..." Grined Syke O."

"You were in the pinta and before that you were giving me attitude, cabroncito remember?"

"Yea but respect has to be earned and look at it from my position bro. I had never met you before and you just showed up man. You hadn't been back in the state since the 90's. It's a bit much to take in at once, hermano. I knew who your padre was man everybody knows him but you were more of a legend that left the state by the time I was coming up even though I knew Miguel. Speaking of, we are gonna get him out of that shit hole, bro."

They pulled the two out of the car finally. Cheetah demanded, "Why did you kill mi tia in such a brutal way?! You pinche sewer rata! All I did was shoot the bitch!"

Ernesto pistol whipped her with the .44 causing a bloody nose. Syke O then said, "Sucia was like a big sister to me while she was Ernesto's lover. They might have gotten back together if you hadn't done that. Ernesto denies it cause he still misses his old lady but I can see it."

"Why do you even try and act like a vato? You're Comanche. Many of you guys warred with Mexico..."

"We're still Uto Aztecan. But you're right. We made the military of two countries our bitch. Four if you count Spain and France. But the Tonkawas ended it for us. So did the Lipan. Still...what I did to your tia? That's what my ancestors did to yours..."

"I'm as brown as you are and I aint even pura..." She growled. He chuckled. ""Not your Mexican ancestors, stupid. Argentina. They're mostly Spanish Italian and German and they hate Indios. That's part of why my boy El Chongo hates you guys. But tu sabes? The conquistadors killed us first so we learned to be cruel back..."

"When I think of horse tribes...I think Lakota..." She said with a grin. "Yeah...most do. That's Vinewood for ya. Plus Buffalo Bill's Wild West shows made most dumb asses in this country think Lakotas were representing all of us cause he had Sitting Bull as a literal captive audience and performer. But a Lakota chief was good for maybe 40 horses. A Comanche had 300."

She smiled. Though she had nothing against Comanche outside of Syke O she said, "Lakotas are taller. And they held out longer. Plus your kills was more settlers and rangers. You never had a major victory like Crazy Horse and Sitting Bull."

"Yeah and Peruvian women are prettier than Argentinian. I don't care what anybody says. But that's neither here nor there...Sucia was out of the game. Ernesto was making sure we didn't go after Rifas who dropped their flags too. She went straight. now..Ernesto told me to let you live. If it were up to me I'd be doing the same thing he is."

"You're nothing but his puppet! Bitch! That's all you'll ever be!" She roared. "At least I'm not taking orders from some out of towner..." He stated referring to the youngest Roman. With that, he began to go to work on Benny who screamed the whole time. He had buried him up to his head and cut his eyelids off so the hot sun would burn his eye balls. Benny would not stop screaming. They took her back into the car and drove her further out. They gagged her as well. She didn't know how many miles they went. It seemed like 60 miles west.

She could still hear Benny screaming as they left him even as Cumbia music soon blasted. They let her out of the car again and they were still in the desert. "Get out. Stretch your legs. Now..." He handed her a half empty bottle of water. "It's about 100 miles back to any city. Or was it 50? Or 60? I lost track. It's at least 40 though. I'd start walking if I were you. More at night. This is the largest desert in North America. I said I'd let you live but I mostly meant I wouldn't kill you. Syke O didn't think you should have it easy though."

"See..." The Comanche said. "One of the people you killed in that shootout? Was Rita Alvarez. I used to date her in High School. She was a good chica and we were still homies."

"Fuck you and fuck her," She growled spitting in his face. He chuckled. "I wouldn't waste saliva out here. You're gonna need it. See you may not think we're as impressive as Lakotas...but I had a great great great great great grandfather that rode with Quanah Parker. He used to ride 100 miles a day. Now that's still easier than with a horse but you know what? Some armies in China had to do that too. You Rifas all want to be Mongolians, right? Get to marching!"

Ernesto told her one more thing before they left. "If you make it and should see Task...I wouldn't say anything to him about my involvement if I were you. Or if you do...you'd better explain to him that you killed one my homegirls. And you tried to kill my shot caller. And you laid out a few Aztecas to do it. He probably doesn't know the shit you lames pulled before in the Confetti hood though. See...Task...has helped us before. He's not a Rifa and he's not a Vago."

He saw the look in her eyes and said, "Don't worry he didn't kill any busters. To my knowledge. He helped us in New Arcadia against the wards and against rednecks. Even a chapate slut like you can understand that. But I won't tell him that I know. And if you're smart neither will you. If you do, I'll have somebody even worse than me finish your family off. Everybody. I hope you and him can work out. But you should drop your flag. It won't end well for you. It's a hard life being a Vago, Azteca or Marabunta. It's harder being a Rifa. And I won't attack Task either. As long as he never attacks the PVL there's no reason to. But you? You know what you did. If you survive this, I invite you to try coming at us again. I'd love to lay out the rest of you. Right now you're an amature. If you survive this you'll finally be a worthy enemy. Don't try and use Mark. He won't admit it but I've done him damage too not just him to me. And don't try and use my favorite Taskmaster either. That would just get sloppy. If you drag him into this any further you'll be fucking up his neuterality."

"Yeah..." Grinned Syke O. "I'll be gladly waiting to finish you like you tried to finish me..." He said. "Think of this as your right of passage..." He said grinning. "Your own vision quest."

With that, they began to drive out of there. "We're gonna need gas soon..." Syke O said. Ernesto nodded. "I'll have T Cell send for a car to take us to St. Anthony. We can rest up there a day or so and head home after that. We'll need to lay low anyway. The juras are gonna be all over the block."

As Cheeta walked through the scorching hot desert she was frustrated wanting to go back to try and held her primo to save him but she knew she likely couldn't help him. She knew she would have to be careful how much water she drank on the way there too and she would have to avoid buzzards and probably scorpions as well. She wanted to survive if for no other reason, for revenge.

She would survive but nearly die. She would also find out that four days later, after the brutal mutilation that Syke O had done to her aunt, it would not be that that killed her. Instead, it was the gunshot wounds to the stomach. She'd had surgery and they were able to stabilize her and she was able to give the cops testimony on what happened as best as she could remember and describe the disquised cholos but she had died from peritonitis.

She wanted to get them all back especially Syke O but at the same time, what he had done to her aunt had not killed her. It was what Chico and Flipper had done. She hated Ernesto and she hated Syke O even more but a part of her knew that this kind of thing was expected. She had hit somebody they cared about. But she hadn't done anything personal to Chico or Flipper for them to shoot her aunt. They had just done it to cause pain to a high ranking North Sider.

She would also learn that Benny had died not from the mutilation to his eyelids or even from a scorpion bite that had happened not long before death. It was thirst that killed him. His skin was burned and bloated as well from the sun that was over 100 degrees.

Mai

Gina sighed. "You gotta understand something, Mai. You went to college. You graduated High School. You're both Hmong and Vietnamese. You beat the odds. I don't know what it was like for you growing up in South Yankton. Probably hard being the only Asian in school. But you've got it easier than we do out here. People act like we're just high achievers. I went to college but they wouldn't give me financial aid. Or academic support cause I checked Asian..." It was true that Gina was a multi ethnic Asian and her Korean and Japanese blood was seen as high achiveving while her Vietnamese blood was not. "But you know what they don't tell you? We got the highest dropout rate!"

Cherry nodded. "True. The data gets fucked up cause you got the high achieving Chinese, Japanese and Koreans...and look I know Gina's Japanese too and Korean and some might give her shit for it but I never would that's my homegirl. But at the same time, Vietnamese, Laotians, Cambodians, Hmongs from ANYWHERE and us Filipinas we're the ghetto Asians. It's not like we don't value education too but we have to WORK or support our family some other kind of way. And that gets in the way of school. We couldn't afford it. We're poor."

Gina looked out the window. "And Hmongs have it the worst of all..." She stated. "Almost 50% of Hmong adults are dropouts. And this is mostly where we stay. San Andreas. Maybe some spots up and down the pacific coast, Liberty City and a few Midwestern cities but this is mostly it...is it any wonder we're doing what we do out here? It's survival over education. I fuckin TRIED to do good in college but they denied me help. And then when my grades weren't good enough I was out. So now...I might see some of those bitches from the financial aid office out here and I'd take them for everything they got..."

"You could try and g back. I'd be willing to pay for you to go."

"You're too golden brown to be a white savior, Mai. Look...I thought the CC would give me a way out of the hood outta poverty, all that. But it didn' didn't help me when I streets was what my support system was. If I turn on them now it was all for nothing. Am I really supposed to give up my neighborhood, my family for something else? Something I don't understand? Especially for people that left me out to dry when I needed help? I didn't want a hand out. I just wanted a hand up."

"Yeah I understand that, Gina but I'm not the system. I'm not the college that kicked you out. What were you doing so bad in that your GPA dropped enough to kick you out?"

"Math. You believe that?"

"Yeah, I do. It's not even like the math thing with all of us is nessecarily based on us being so much better at it. It's not even about push parents. It's the way our languages are that makes it easier. If you think about it, the way math is forEnglish speakers maybe they just have it harder."

"It aint easy being Filipina. We have too much pride but it's for all the wrong reasons..." Stated Cherry. "We're over sensitive. We tell everybody else to take a joke but we can't do it 'Well sit there and talk more about Taylor Swift instead of being blacklisted from French Foreign Aid cause of our own negligence."

Mai's eyes widened at that. "That's...deep..."

"It's a poem she wrote...she does that from time to time...Replied Gina."

"I'd like to hear it if you don't mind. What's it called?"

"The problem with Filipinos..." She replied. She took a breath. "The problem with Filipinos is we are quick to hate and even quicker to forget. Forget the dictator and his family for violating our rights. Forget the white men and their destructive colonization because...guapo guapo guapo!" She seemed self conscious than Mai was listening but she focused her eyes back on the paper. "Marry a white man because he will save you from poverty. Rescue us from this wasteland of a country...The problem with us is we kiss white people's lick it with gusto. We allow every fair skinned person to walk over our farm broken everything American is 'Better' Because everything white is 'beautiful' Because putang ing ang corny mag tagalog, kaloud, mag bisaya! Do you not understand your fear? Have you not examined the instinctive shyness that overcomes your brown body when you're around someone white?"

It seemed the poem got to Gina too as she had tears in her eyes. "Have you not dissected the veneration you give you give westerners and deny your Lumad brothers, your Muslim sisters?The problem with Filipinos is we value English grammar over hungry Filipinos. The problem with Filipinos is we go to church but we do not listen. We pray but do not practice. We leave all responsibility with God and take none for ourselvves. We value arguments on Lifeinvader over the fight for freedom our ancestors bled for. Because conspiracy theories are more interesting than facts. Soap operas taught us drama is more exciting. The problem is it took a movie to see the folly of our history. The problem was we were too careless to look in the first problems with Filipinos is we''re too nice. The problem is we're not nice enough. It doesn't matter what I say. It's all pointless because pride pride pride..."

She took a breath and finished. "The problem with Filipinos is most will be more pissed at this poem than they ever were over racial injustice, police brutality, sexism, poverty, littering and hopelessness. The problem with Filipinos is the wrong things offend is. We rarely stand up for what's problem with Filipinos is you. Is me. Ourselves..."

Mai was blown away at her vocabulary and her knowledge of history. Mai even knew what historical film she was referring was a movie about the Filipino general Antonio Luna who fought against the United States in the Phillipine-American war. He was later assasinated by his own people and the Americans at the time found this funny that they had killed their one leader who was a worthy adversary to the American imperialists. Mai didn't hold the self deprecating view Cherry had of Filipino or Filipinas but she couldn't deny that she had a point about that part.

Sunbelt

As the two sat smoking Cuban cigars in Ernesto's hotel room, he asked Syke O, "You said you know Adayh...how is that again?"

"My cousins live out near the rez in Lincoln Parish. I didn't really used to like going out there. Never could stand the city of New Arcadia but my cousin always told me it aint exactly the same especially on the rez. It's like a whole different country, man. See my cousin is Cadoh. I got Cadoh blood too but my cousin married a Creek girl..."

He was mostly Comanche however and enrolled with them but he claimed Cado too. "I'd visit them every now and then, stay over. Cousin taught me how to fish. Anyway, I met that guy Adayh...he prefers Red..I don;t know why...but we used to start fishing together. We even hunted twice. He taught me what he could from the muskogee language. I remember the day that I began teaching him some of our language...I told him we had about 100 speakers. This was back in 2003. I was still learning it myself. Somehow, Adayh can speak Lakota, Nahuatl and Ndeh though, man. He never did specify which kind of Ndeh though. That could be Mescalero, San Carlos, freaking White Mountain, or even Geronimo's band."

Syke O looked down. "I aint seen that dude in years though. I hope he remembers what little i did teach him. Even if it's not that much. In '03 we had that many speakers. Now we're down to about thirty. And I'm one of them..." He shook his head. "i've done some fucked up shit in my life. I wish it wasn't me that knew how to speak it. i wish it were somebody else. Even what we did today to that girl was fucked up. And I know that. But it doesn't change a thing. She tried to kill me. She took out Sucia. We never even got to say goodbye."

Ernesto put out his own cigar. "Mirate, homes. You gotta survive. If shit ever hits the fan...what i've done to those N.O.O.S.E agents that took my boy from me, the judge that killed Marisol, the FIB agents in that...or even just this shit with the Roman Empire. If the heat comes down on us. Get out of town. Go anywhere but Sunbelt. Don't try and avenge me don't try and take my place. That's...that's for Miguel to do anyway. He's my heir. he'll inherit my empire when I'm gone."

"Yeah but he aint ready for it. He's like a little brother to me too ya know? I looked out for him when I could before you came back. Had his back against our enemies but...he aint ready."

"No, he's not. But nobody becomes ready without showing him how. It was a stupid move on my part and Onda's part to make him one of us. But after Marisol died...and the way our friends were dying I thought that maybe if we make him untouchable he would survive. But it starts to hit you later in life. You feel like you're indestructable when you firs become a carnal. But then the shock of what everybody else already knew for years hits you. Chingada. We're still as human as the next man and we can die just as easily...being Onda didn't protect Flaco anymore than it protected Snapper and he wasn't made."

Ernesto looked the Comanche in the eyes. "I'm not saying to ever stop fighting but you don't need a gang for that. It's in your blood already. My jefito died in prison. He started this shit with the other brothers to survive while he was there. He didn't think...none of us thought it would be where he'd spend his last days. But you need to forget your dreams of becoming Onda. And even may want to rethink being a shot caller. When I die...don't continue to work for Miguel. He won't have a long life either the way he's at it all I can hope is that he dies when I'm gone. Whether that's next week or eight years from now. I hope he survives long enough to have kids of his own. So he can kind of understand what it's been like for me. He can keep them out of the gang life."

"What about your other grandkid, bro?" Asked Joseph. Ernesto grinned. "i got to meet her. Maybe the problem is I've been too much for trying to find Miguel...my lost sheep that I forget all the ones doing good. But it's not like i need to anyway..they always did right on their own. It's easy to say Marisol did that too. I won't give any credit to that mayate I smoked..." He said referring to the basketball player. "All he taught them was what i'd tried to anyway. Don't go out with them. You can work with them but don't date them. i'd always warned my daughters not to do what their mom did too. But the irony is...when he cheated on her he proved my point for me."

"What about your sons? Didn't you tell them the same thing?" Ernesto laughed. "I did but there was no need. None of them liked mayatas like that. Only Miguel outright hated them though."

"You know when he was in Juvie..." Began Syke O, "He was always getting in trouble, man. He wasn't that smart the way he played it but he had cora and he got respect for it. Vatos that talk shit about him saying he's a daddy's boy and all that?" He shook his head. "If that was true he wouldn't have been a g all that time you weren't here. He said he preferred juvie to being home with Marisol though..." He said being honest to the Onda gangster. "He was always stealing shoes. He bullied the gueros from the suburbs. He beat up on tintos from other hoods. He stabbed a Condado too. He wasn't that good at killing back then more about maiming. He ham stringed him."

"Listen, Syke O. Like i said...whatever happens to me...to any of us. My language and Adayh's will survive. But yours...you gotta survive. You should really quit it anyway when you can. This isn;t worth You're one of thirty people speaking a dying language. That's more important. Don't make my mistake or Miguel's. You HAVE to survive. Even if you only teach one more person to be fluent."

"Miguel got made a carnal. Can you honestly say he's a better leader than me? He's my brother but you can't believe he was ready for this. He aint in prison. I've done hard time."

"No. He's not a better leader. He's head strong and impulsive. You've been keeping the cliqua afloat. But would I rather have you be a carnal? I'd rather neither of you were, It's one thing for me to be in this shit but...if you ever have kids, keep them away from this vida. Watching Miguel live every day...whether he's in the whack shack or whether he's on the streets, it's like watching your own son be on death row. A death row of his own choosing. And my failed parenting...and the failure of La Onda to see the bigger picture seeing how making him one of us is bad. See...we're the opposite of San Andreas. They got 300 brothers. And tens of thousands who want to be in that elite. We got 17,000 and that makes us stronger in some ways but it also leaves us open even worse if a carnal drops out. It's an ugly game this shit..."

He sighed and then said, "You know, I was saying how Carmen, and the rest of them do good it's probably cause of Marisol...but my son Lupe. He said something I didn't like but...I had to admit was true. He said that she was no better a parent than me and I was no worse than her. I was glad to hear him say that but he went in on her. He said her parenting was just as fucked up and that her being dead...while he misses her doesn't change that."

"How did he mean?"

"He was saying it was under her watch and my absense that miguel got into gangs. He said that he resented her, Miguel did cause of leaving me and her moving in with the basketballer. He didn't want him for a stepdad and he ran to the vatos to have a male role model that reminded him of his father. I admit...I did set that example for him. All of them. But in the time I was gone it was her job to set him straight. It was easy for me to blame myself though and give her credit for most of our kids staying on the straight path. And maybe it's because she knew I blamed myself for Luis dying and she thought I was on the same path with him. But they chose their own paths based on what we showed them. Miguel...he was the baby. And he was the angriest one. He hated Marisol. I know he still hates her even if he won't say it. He doesn't like that she died cause...it's just so final you know? But he still hates her. i just want him to have peace."

"What about this fucker that got him put in the asylum? It's bad enough that he's killed so many compas and helps busters. Now he pulled that shit? Ernesto, somehow I've stayed off that punk's radar, man. Let me go kill his brother. The lawyer. Or at least break his knee caps."

"That would cause more problems than it would solve. Even if he didn't know who you are and couldn't trace it back to you. Mark's already expressed an interest in targeting Carmen before. His blanquita talked him out of it and he might try and tell me that it was just showing out but...his word doesn't mean shit to me. Not on that. I don't think he knows to what extent I've killed his primos either. He might just think Neto did it. Or Miguel. Maybe he doesn't care about them. But he'd try and kill her next. Or Miguel..."

Paul

They were chilling in Jean's cell. They bought canteen food and while you were generally not supposed to bring stuff back to your cell, you were allowed to pt them in your laundry bags and most people did do this. Paul was enjoying a cold E Cola as was Hardline. "It aint a fuckin beer..." The latter said. "But it'll do."

Seymour remarked, "I aint ever drinking again. Fuck that shit."

Jean smiled. "That's good, kid. Live the sober life. Your liver will thank you."

"Aint doing us that much good though. Got us caged up like Geronimo. Or Osceola..." Stated Paul. "Yeah i read about that shit too..." Buckeye said. "Geronimo made the best of what he could out of a rotten situation, homefry! He still got paid though. Charging those white boys mony for autographs but giving em to skins for free."

"I think Sitting Bull did the same thing, enit?" Mentioned Jean. "He did a show with Buffalo Bill. I'm actually surprised by that. A man who wanted to preserve the buffalo hunting lifestyle and the man who pretty much helped end it."

"I can't decide if that's sad or ironic..." Stated Hardline. "You gotta pick one?" Paul asked. "It's both."

"Hey who do you think was the most bad ass outta all the leaders, man?" Asked Seymour. "Or just the best leader in general?"

"Crazy Horse. No question about it. He didn't surrender even when other chiefs did..." Stated Hardline. Buckeye replied, "I'm gonna go with Pontiac. He was still willing to fight the British even after the Seven Year War ended and the British won that. If it wasn't for Iroquois intervention, he might have."

"Yeah, look we fucked up a lot..." Paul admitted. "From the 1600's when we were the most powerful group on the continent till about the mid 1700's. But we saw the light mostly during the Revolutionary War. He gets a lot of hate but people sleep on Joseph Brant. Thayendanegea? He was an early pan Indian leder."

"That's cause he was Christian, right?" Asked Jean. "And was a little too cozy with the British in his youth."

"Yeah but so many chiefs are guilty of that and yeah some call him a traitor cause he got us in the Revolutionary War and that almost destroyed our confederacy but in all honesty do you think we would have been able to stay neutral? I don't think so. And if Joseph Brant's reasons for supporting the British, you know despite being right that the Americans were worse, Chief Shenedoah was wrong too ya know. He only supported the fuckin US side because of a goddamn quaker. At least when Joseph decided to support the British and got four outta six tribes to do the same, at least it wasn't his Christian faith influencing him."

"Yeah..." Brandon said. "But you can't entirely hate Skenddoah, bro. Joanne Shendoah is the most beautiful singer we got man that voice. Like you been hanging with Mexis in San Andreas, right? How many of them liked Selena's music?"

"Pretty much all of them..." Paul said without needing to think. "Even the Americanized ones that didn't speak Spanish. The only thing whiter than a mexican that doesn't like Selena is eating at Taco Bomb."

Brandon continued, "Well thats my point man. Look my nation wanted to stay out of it too in the counsil fire but we went the same route as you fighting the Americans. But Joanne is our Selena, bro."

Paul agreed. "That's true. Her music is a great way to pick up Oneida too how to learn it I mean," The two slapped hands. "Anyway, they called him Monster Brant cause he kicked American asses. He inspired Tecumseh though. I don't think Joseph is the best or most bad ass leader Tecumseh is but Josepg inspired him."

"You ask me..." Stated Jean. "I think Chief Joseph the OTHER chief Joseph the Nez Perce chief was the best."

"Why?" All of the younger Native inmates asked. "He made the hard call. He knew that the American government was evil and he wanted to come up here to Canada to escape them rather than fight. He still had to fight them cause he wanted to be free in Canada but he didn't want to stay and fight but he had to fight them every step of the way when he was running away. He did pretty well too. But his friend Looking Glass got killed."

"Yeah, to be honest, Jean all due respect...that I will fight no more forever speech was gay."

"It wasn't gay!" Jean raised his voice. "He was pointing out how his friends were dying all around him. Now other tribes could and did hold out longer but the Nez Perce? They didn't have that many people left. Even now there's not many of them. He was fifty miles to the Canadian border he almost made it. But with what was going on around here with eh North West Rebellion and people fighting back there's n assurance he would have found peace here either. "

Paaul nodded. "Much like Joseph Brant. He ran to Canada when the US took our land. But he got back land that we took back during the Revolutionary War. Land the French Canadians had stolen from us. We wouldn't have a reserve with all six of our nations there f not for Joseph. With Canada he knew that he was dealing with lesser devils but still devils. Sometimes the lesser of two evils is all you can hope for."

"But can you really say we're any better bro? up here?" Asked Seymour. "We're 3% of the population and 24% of inmates."

"They're not all devils..." Stated Jean. "How do you figure that?" Paul asked.

"Not all whites are evil and not all Indians are good you ought to know that by now."

"I'd agree with the second part. Not so much on the first..." Hardline said. Ignoring Hardline, the gang leader looked at Paul. "It's mathematically impossible. Simple as that. I used to be just as angry as you. The 90's were rough. Had Angels try and kill me. But there's normal men in here just trying to do time same as me."

Jean continued, "You know why i say Chief Joseph? As oppposed to Red Cloud who surrendered after the '62 uprisings, Red Cloud not only did didn't fight alongside Sitting Bull he also didn't run to Canada with him. He went straight to the rez. Chief Joseph never wanted to fight. He fought but he hated it. And yet he was a warrior."

"Come on, Jean don't give us that quote about how a warrior is not who we think it is..." Paul was referring to the false quote on the internet attributed to Sitting Bull. He wasn't saying Jean would attribute it to Chief Joseph or Sitting Bull but he also wanted to make sure that wasn't where the conversation was going. "I didn't say that. But there are some battles not to fight..." Stated the OG. "There are some armies not to attack."

"He made the tough call..." He said. "He hated fighting but he also knew his tribe wasn't in the wrong either. That was a bitter pill to swallow. It's easy to go into battle and go out in the blaze of glory like Tecumseh. Or to have a life of killing your enemy and die old like Geronimo and Quanah did to where it's far from home but yet every day is a gift because you didn't hang from a rope. Those men did the same thing he did. But he never wanted to fight. That's the difference. He fought and made the tough call to fight as a chief and he made the tough call to make peace as one."

"If Geronimo and Quanah did the same why is Joseph greater to you?" Asked Buckeye. "I mean I could tell you about some obscure Salish chiefs you probably never heard of that did that..."

"Because of his speech. You young bucks may see it as kowtowing to anglos but you're missing the bigger lesson. War is hell. Hell probably doesn't exist except for the hell we put ourselves through here on earth. His speech and what he said about his tribe dying illustrates the true horror that is war. But there's also the fact that when your age catches up to you, you just get tired of fighting. Or some don't and they go down fighting. But he didn't want that. And I don't want it either. I don't want to die. Not even here knowing I'll never be free. Knowing I'll never get to be free on the outside with my kids. If I can help just one brother avoid my mistakes my life will have been worth it. That's what true leadership is. Thinking about the future."

Paul was silent as were the others taking in his wisdom.

Mai

Earlier That Week...

"What are you doing here?" She asked Lee as he pulled up in a silver Stallion. She wasn't even going to ask where he got it. "It's a long way just for a booty call..." She said with a chuckle. He smirked. "Not here for that but uh...I did enjoy those texts..."

"What are you here for?" She asked. He pointed to the Da Nang Boys kicking it on the porch. "You actually know them?"

"Yeah I thought you knew?" He asked as he got out. "i may have uh...spent the night with a few..." He said looking in the general direction of a few of the female gang members. "Then again, maybe not..." He said. "But I know T Mart. He's a good dude. Aside from being narrow minded about music."

The Chinese American slapped hands with each of them and he was introduced to each of them. Luckily Mai's father was not around. She didn't want to have THAT conversation and while Lee was significantly younger than she was and they were not exactly anything more than friends with benefits officially, she knew he would approve of him a hell of a lot more than any non Asian even if he was Chinese and not a Hmong one, he was still Chinese. All though knowing her father, when it came to the war for China, she knew he supported the Nationalists over the Communists and therefore he saw Taiwan as benevolent and mainland China's government as evil. But she didn't want to explain how she knew him.

Romeo sat there smoking a blunt. "So you're Shotgun Mary..." Lee told him, "Don't call me that. Just Lee."

Romeo eyed the New Arcadian quizically. "What do you know about the Aztecas? I know you've worked with T Mart before. On what he didn't say...but maybe you could tell me about that some time..."

"Some other time..." Lee said. "The Aztecas are assholes. They're in New Arcadia too. Well, outside the city limits but that's still closer to me than I want them. I know they're international and they're a big deal this side of the Mississippi. But in Sunbelt, they're run by an old man. Same with in Lincoln Parish too. But they're not bulletproof and I think they learned that..."

Romeo nodded. "Yeah that's right...you and those other BSU white boys. They were there laying waste to their hood and the Va Ho's too. That's why I'm even considering you for this job. Just understand we're not a bunch of entitled rich white boys like the BSU."

"Hey most of those guys come from broken homes, man..." Lee said taking offense to this thinking of Link and Buck. "You can't generalize. White guys may be rich out here and probably none of them are poor but in the Midwest and the South it's another story."

"So? They're still white boys."

Mai sighed. "Not this , our people, even with dropout rates and all, still on average make more money than anglos do. We encounter racism but not that much compared to immigrants and blacks."

Romeo glared. "How you gonna say that? Then again you are Hmong. You guys always side with the white boys...it doesn't matter how much money we make in this country when whites are still 75% of the population and we're 6%."

"Hey that was outta line..." Lee said angered by what the Vietnamese American said about Mai. "And it's 63%. I agree we do have it bad in other ways but you being anti Hmong aint helping us..." Mai replied keeping in mind what Neto had said about many of his people to be 'white' despite that being false.

"Yeah but think about it. They sided with the invaders. They lost we won. And the Hmong lost out even harder than the white boys did. You can win every battle and still lose the war."

"We? You're an American..." Lee said. "Says the ABC who can't speak his own language..." Sneered Romeo. "Nah baby. I'm Viet to the bone. And trip on this shit. Mai's people sided with the US. They were major fighters for the South. But in this country they're among the least educated. Much less than countries that actually fought the United States hella hard. Like Korea or Japan. Even Northern Koreans are smarter than some Hmongs, man..."

"Ro, this really isn't helping man...we need to be a united front we're going against the Ese's..." Stated Baby Face. Romeo chuckled. "Hey, this is just a talk amongst Asians, right? We can be straight up. Your girl Jill aint here so there's no outsiders to evesdrop..."

"Who is this guy you want dead, anyway?" Demanded Lee. "I got a busy schedule and I want to get back home."

"Man you Narcadia dudes all think you're better than us! Even the chinos... think we're all a bunch of hippies out here." Said Cherry with a shake of her head. "I'm sure you San Andreans think the same thing. That we're all bible thumping inbreds."

"Yeah but that's the problem with southerners you know damn well your ancestors weren't even there for no civil war and you act like ya'll were. Those gweilos got you brainwashed, cousin. And I'm knowing how it is down there cause I got people that came from the south originally. Fuckin Alabama. But that was decades ago. I don't understand the south. Ya'll will hate on a nigga from the north call em Yankee and shit yet if somebody from the south move out and gone long enough you act like they aint from there no more. It's a stupid way to be."

"And you think San Andreas is better? You got crime out here. Aint as poor as the south but you are a border state. So the cartel is right there. Plus pollution. Plus wildfires. Maybe you motherfuckers ARE more hardcore than me just knowing you breath this shit in year round... and the heat...at least the heat is humid back home."

"Yeah but at least when it's 100 out here it's really 100..." Stated Gina. "80 in a tropical or even sub tropical place is like 80 is really 100 and 100 is really 120."

"And the thing is..." The Blasian gang member continued, "Los Santos...we don't care about where you're from or who you are. That's what sets us apart from most other cities, man. Whether you see that as good or bad that's how it is..."

"Who's this Azteca you want dead?" Repeated Lee. "You didn't bring me out here jus to debate inter state differences..."

"This motherfucker El Camello. He's an Azteca outta Blaine County. He's got connections down in Jalisco, the cartel and all that. He's got pull down in Rancho of course too but what's really weird is he's got connects to South Siders up in Pottersfield too."

"Why him? And not a Vago from the East Side of your city? Wouldn't that make more sense?"

"We got Aztecas out here too though, man..." T Mart explained. "And not only with that motherfucker Santa Muerte holding them up but El Camello too. It's like...how d I put it...we shoot it out with the East Side Va Ho's whenever we can but lately it's feeling like the Aztecas in Cypress they may not be as turned up as the Aztecas in South Central but they're still making money. They're watching us and the Vagos and the Psychos go at it and they're steady building up their power base down here at the beach."

Baby Face looked at Lee. "All due respect, cuz...why should we have him here? Yeah, he's a Vago Killa too but this motherfucker's name is on the news. You're too hot to even be around here. How the feds aint nabbed your ass yet is beyond me."

"They can try. But we got friends in high places and that's all I'm willing to say."

"Yeah? Well who are they? i might want a get outa jail card too..." Stated Sicko Green.

Lee ignored what the rapper had to say and said, "It could be an advantage. Me being here. Mostly for me but a little for you too. Nobody in the LSPD or FIB would believe I would be dense enough to come out here and lay down some scraps twice. And nobody would believe you guys would take a guy like me for a job like this knowing the heat that comes with it. It wouldn't help you much selling me up the river if you were popped for murder one but then again...maybe it would. I'm just letting you know I operate under a different set of rules than you do out here. If I do get caught I owe no loyalty to any of you...If one of you were put in a situation where you had to face life or sell me, an out of towner up the river to the feds it's a no brainer. You might not even get disciplined in some cases. In theory that's supposed to always mean death but in practice people have skipped the rules."

"You calling us snitches?" Demanded a Vietnamese American female wearing a dark blue midriff top under a gold flannel jacket and a green bandanna on her forehead. "You're human goddamn beings and people are selfish by nature. You might take a life sentence to be loyal to your gang and keep your homies out of trouble but a guy like me? I'm expandable to you. Just making sure we understand each other. We'll back each other up in battle but for the sake of all of us it's best if I don't get caught by the cops."

"I'll kill you before I let you fall into custody..." Romeo said with an evil smile. Mai didn't approve of him saying this but Lee smirked. "I'd like to see that. but honestly, from a leadership stand point it's the right play. It takes away incentive for me or any of your boys to snitch. Now I aint a fuckin rat but like I said...human nature. You never know how hard you are until you're placed in the worst situation."

"I can vouch for him..." T Mart said. "It was like two or three years ago when i worked with this dude but still. He's like one man army. Naw fuck that. Lee Shen. I'm calling him Legion from now on."

"He look Roman to you?" Asked Mai with her eyebrows raised. "It's better than Shotgun Mary."

"Let's hit the road, guys..." Romeo ordered as he readied his AKM. Cherry carried a Spas 12 with an ammo belt around her. Gina had an MP5, Baby Face carried an AR-15. Clayton had an AK-47 with a scope on knew from his bloodshot eyes he still hadn't gotten much sleep about killing that teenager from the Psychos. Sicko readied two Uzis while Young Gun$ loaded up a Mossberg 500. The two rappers got into a dark blue Voodoo while Mai, Lee, Cherry, Romeo and T Mart piled into a dark gray Rumpo.

Gina rode with Baby Face in a navy blue Felon. They also had Jayna and Rachel in the back of that car. Clayton drove a dirty white Greenwood and Kimmy and Tina rode with him the former, nursing an MP7 while the latter had a Super 90 Shotgun. In addition to the two Vietnamese girls riding with the half black half Chinese DNB member, there was a gangster of about 19 years old. He was fresh off the boat from Cambodia but got down with the gang despite not speaking much English. He had a crew cut and dark brown skin his brown eyes and forehead somewhat wide. He wore an orange t shirt under a dark blue jacket and had a Ruger MP9.

As they drove in the Rumpo, Mai asked Lee, "So when did you ever work with these guys? I mean I know you came to Los Santos a few times before you met me or any of well...you know...but that doesn't really narrow it down does it?"

"I'd say with the DNB I've done maybe four jobs. Maybe more. Just four that I recall though and always with this guy and some other people that weren't here. And one of the girls out there. Cherry I think..."

"No, I'M Cherry..." The Filipina stated. "And we haven't worked together."

"Ah well. Whatever. You did say Los Santos people don't care who you are, right?" He said with a chuckle. "Anyway, we've made life hard on the Vagos from the East Side but they're far from the only one. You saw me the last time I did some major damage against the Psychos how the FIB isn't looking into me for THAT. It's okay for me to kill people from Little Pheomn Penh but not Rancho? Seems like a double stanard to me."

"Well you did blow a gas station up..." Mai reminded him. "Wait, that was you?!" Cherry said. She seemed surprised and impressed and a little intimidated.

"What can I say?" The New Arcadian kickboxer said with a sneer. "It was my own way of protesting against rising gas prices..."

He asked, "Hey so why aren't we going to Blaine County instead to take this motherfucker out? Isn't that where his base of operations is?"

"My homie gave us the 411. These bitches aint in the Desert right now. They're in West LS. Home to all these Ass Kisser roaches. They're doing some kind of drug deal from what I heard. Buying some weight off some Colombians. I knew the Mexican cartels had the plug to Colombia but I can't believe an Ass Taker can just get a meeting with Colombians like it's nothing. Shit pisses me off! We'd be better middle men for moving shit into America. At least we're not trying to replace them the way Mexico is."

"So which one is Camello anyway? And how much are you paying for this?"

"For you, twenty g's. And he'll be the bald headed motherfucka in sunglasses."

"That sounds like half of LS..." Replied Lee. "Twenty g's? I could have made that back home. You got me all the way out here for that?" He asked addressing both Romeo and T Mart. "Hey just consider it fuck around money then, bro..." T Mart said. "You can do whatever you want with it. Spend it all at the titty bars, get yourself a new ride to cruise Brandy, get a new crib, whatever. No matter how much money you got you can always lose money and you can always get more."

"I guess I'm just not hurting for money so much anymore and yeah I'll probably need to find some kind of 'charity' for my payoff but I don't mind taking out a South Side shot caller."

They pulled up to Galileo's Observatory. It was meant to be closed yet the meeting was going down between the cholos and the Colombian cartel. The deal was pretty much done. There was an exchange of money and product. "There he is..." Said Romeo passing binnoculars over to Lee. "The bitch in the white jersey. That's him."

"All right. Get me in closer then. I'm no Sniper. Or at least I don't have a Sniper Rifle on me."

With Romeo's instructions, Baby Face with his car and Clayton with his boxed in the exits and entrances to the famed LS observatory. Mai was proud of this. A pincer move. The Colombians were leaving in a Maverick. Mai aimed her M4A1 with a scope at a male Azteca who had an AK-47. She let off a three round burst and the man went down as the slugs hit his heart. El Camello was alerted to danger as his homie bled all over him and as Mai went to fire a headshot he ended up falling over as his dying homie fell on him. She wasn't sure if this was an accident or if he was trying to shield his shot caller with his dying breath. Either way, it saved El Camello's life.

Baby Face had called in a bit more reenforcement which included eight more gangsters, the first, a midnight blue Manana with four DNB members in their late teens alll of them females. The first was a Laotian woman of about 5'1 scrawny as hell with yellowish almost white skin wearing a white sweater and blue jeans. The next was a Hmong woman from Vietnam wearing a dark blue blazer over a white wife beater and baggy male style blue jeans. Next was a Filipina woman who was part white with blue eyes that still looked Asian and she had dark skin and lighter brown hair and wore a white tank op and brown cargo pants and had her hair tied in a high ponytail. The last was a woman of Cambodian descent who had lived her whole life between the crossing intersection dividing DNB and TPG turf. She had dark brown skin and eyes that looked even more slanted compared to Chinese or Japanese. She was a bit on the chubby side and wore a gray blouse with a blue Varsity jacke t over it. They carried a 9mm, an Itchaca, an Uzi and a .45 in that order.

In the other car, a red Emporor was a Hmong male of Chinese descent with an orange t shirt under a dark green flannel jacket and baggy blue jeans who had a shaved head. Next was a Cambodian homeboy standing at 5'5 and who was of Khmer ancestry with slicked back greasy hair wearing a white t shirt and baggy black jeans. The third was a man of Cambodian and Mexican descent who went more by his Cambodian blood as he was raised in that neighbohood. He had a buzz cut, small brown eyes, larger lips, and a pointed nose and he wore a red t shirt and baggy blue jeans. Last was a Filipino man with spiky black hair and a black t shirt with black dickies. All four carried Mac-10's.

They ambushed the Aztecas guarding the perimiter of the observatory and before long the eight gangsters were engaged in a shootout. By this time, six Aztecas had already fallen. El Camello returned fire with an AK-47 and he struck the homeboy who was riding with Clayton killing the man instantly with seven rounds to the chest. He also aimed at Clayton but the man ducked down. Lee fired his shotgun and he struck down an Azteca with longer curly black hair in a ponytail who wore a blue and black striped shirt and jean shorts. He struck the man in the right arm as well as his sides.

The carload of DNB homegirls kept driving as they fired taking two more Aztecas down, one male and one female. The female, a blonde chola with skin matching her hair, lay on the ground with two 9mm rounds in her belly and one just below her right breast. She was wincing in pain struggling to survive and firing back with a free hand. The homeboy was worse off with six in his back and one in theh side of his head in the right temple.

Their triumph was short lived, however, as an Azteca of Salvadoran descent shot out the front left tires and the back left tire forcing the Manana to crash into a wall. The man ran forward pulling the wounded driver from the car pistol whipping her and throwing her to the ground before firing a shot from his Glock 22 into her throat. As he did blood sprayed from the wound like a fountain. He took a round in the back and another in his right armpit as one of the wounded DNB homegirls fired at him. He turned firing a head shot which hit her in the right cheek but not before the Hmong woman in the back fired into his chest and stomach putting the already mortally wounded soldado down with extreme prejudice.

The chubby DNB girl, meanwhile was trying to pull her deceased homie's shotgun from the ride when she got ten rounds in the back as an Azteca let off rounds from a Mac-11. "Pinche DNB chavalas! How the fuck did you know we were here?!" Lee snuck up behind the man putting the Shotgun to the base of his skull and declared, "ANCIENT CHINESE SECRET!" He pulled the trigger and the man's skull exploded in a blast of gray matter and bone fragments. Lee could have sworn he saw a piece of the man's right molar somehow lodged into a piece of flying ear and was tempted to burst out laughing like a school girl at the absurd sight.

Mai saw two Aztecas coming at him hot trying to flank him from behind their parked Glendales but she hit the first, a male in dark blue flannel with a bandanna around his forehead in the right ribcage and as he fell wounded she pt three more in his right ey. Before his homie who had a 20 gauge could react, she fired another three rounds hitting the man in the Adams apple. "You're welcome..." She said blowing smoke from the barrell. "Thank you, sexy femme fatal cliche woman!" Lee shot back earning a smile from the IAA agent.

"Hey these cowardly motherfuckers are trying to make a run for it!" Baby Face yelled as he spotted El Camello and three homies get into a teal Savannah. The wounded female DNB soon was hit by sixteen rounds from a G36. Mai took notice of a well dressed South American with light brown skin and beady brown eyes standing at 5'7 and the man had fired an AK-74. Mai fired three bursts striking the man down.

She and Lee apprehended him. "Did you miss your flight?" The sunglasses wearing IAA agent asked. "Fuckin puta...you know who you're fucking with...?! I'm not just some gang banger...this will cost all of you..." Lee pointed the barrel of his Shotgun at the man's already bleeding stomach. "I just realized...I don't care!" Lee pulled the trigger opening the already gaping bullet wound wider and he got a wiff of the man's bowels and nearly threw up.

"Come on!" Romeo yelled as he hammered down three Aztecas before getting into the Rumpo. "We can't let these mother fucks get away!" They did and soon they were speeding after the lowrider and shooting it out with them through the streets of Los Santos. The carload of Aztecas fired back and Mai saw that the gunfire exhange had wounded at least one of the shooters.

They soon found the LSPD were on their tails. "SHIT! Can't you ever kill anybody without the cops being after us?!" Mai growled. "What happened to waiting an hour after a homicide to show up?!" Mai yelled. Mai was glad that before they had arrived she had put a blue ag over her top half of her face and a green on the bottom and Lee had done the same but in the opposite order. She reloaded and proceeded to fire out of the open doors. "Khốn kiếp! Điều này không liên quan đến bất kỳ của bạn!"

(Fuck off! This doesn't concern any of you!)

The first officer she struck was a male of Miwok Indian ancestry striking him three times in the right elbow and the way the bone looked was not good as he swerved crashing into a Mule in the opposite lane. His partner, a lanky white male had been firing on the Rup but could not get a shot to hit the Da Nang Boys before this happened. Next was an African American female who hit Mai four times as she fired from the window taking careful aim as her partner, a Japanse American male drove requesting backup.

Mai fired striking her in he throat and the woman's blood sprayed in the wind getting all over the back window and as she tried to not fall into the street her body moved like one of those things outside a car dealership. In the process, she got blood on the windshield. The driver tried to hit the wipers but it was too little too late and he crashed into a no parking sign. Lee finished him with a shotgun blast. "It's either you or us!" He yelled.

Just then, the Savannah with El Camello in it sped up. It sped up at great speed. "What the fuck?!" Mai cried out and soon they lost it but they still had to deal with the police. "That piece of shit actually spent money on nitrus rather than hydraulics..." Lee said. "I gotta say I'm surprised."

"Well we're still having to deal with these fuckin pigs!" Yelled Romeo as Cherry fired striking an African American male officer in the face with one shot and his Mexican American female officer in the chest and collar bone area with another blast. T Mart had the other Da Nang Boy cars on the phone in a three way call and on speaker phone. "Hey homies! We need to split up and shake these pigs. Once we do, head on over to Ray Lowenstein. That's where these sewer rats are gonna be at! Dollars to fuckin donuts!"

Over the crack of automatic fire, Baby Face's voice came in. "Cool, bro. We'll meet you there. Stay safe out there."

Finally, the Rumpo turned going up the Western Highway. They went the opposite direction. The cars threw off the police cars swerving to not hit the cars coming at them but a crash or several was bound to happen. Still, T Mart cried out in pain as a round from an officer's service pistol went through his left hand. "AHHH SHIT!" He screamed. Just then, Mai's phone rang. It was Trevor. She piked up. "Trevor this is REALLY not a good time."

"I was gonna ask you to show me your tits but uh...hey is that sirens and gunshots I hear?! Are you near Vespucci Beach?!"

"Yeah...why...?"

"Um...because I think I just saw your van on the news. And also I can hear everything in the background. You're all over Weazel. Speaking of which...you wanna see mine? It's not the biggest in the jungle but my boy KNOWS how to make a woman feel like a woman...and by woman...i mean your burgina..."

"Listen..creepy drunk dial aside can you actually help me? There's several of my friends and Iand we're being chased by the cops. We need to get to South Central and...they're not helping. In fact, a ride would be much appreciated."

"I'l do it...for a selfie of your tits!"

"You're a fucking creep..." She growled. She looked at T Mart as he cried out in pain. "Fine...you got a deal."

He pulled up before long and luckily had a jerry can. he began to leave trail of gas for the Rumpo and lit it up. They drove away. They stayed ducked down in his Bodhi. "Just how much have you had to drink, Trevor? And when did you last do it?!" Demanded Mai. "About...an hour ago...but it's fine! Uncle T drives hammered all the time!"

"That's really reassuring!" Mai growled. They got to Rancho in just under thirty minutes. The cops were looking for them and soon found the burning van in the tunnel. They pulled up to Rancho and the Aztecas were ready for them. They opened fire. Lee struck an Azteca at about twenty feet away striking him in the chest. "Is it just me or are Ese's larger on the west coast?!" He cried out as the larger Azteca fell over. Mai fired as well catching two Azteca females and three males with one magazine. They spotted El Camello and he was on a roof top with some cover firing an AK down on them.

A female Azteca of Central American descent discharged two Mac-10s at them and they managed to drop one of the DNB males from the other car load. Civilians were running and ducking too screaming. A Mexican American woman fired an M3 at Mai hitting her in the stomach but it stopped with the vest. She returned fire hitting the woman with three rounds in the chest. The woman fired again forcing Mai to cover. The Central American woman was hit as Lee fired a blast from his shotgun hitting her in the stomach. She was a beautiful woman, a bit on the plump side but still had a pretty face. An eight year old boy and a seven year old girl were trying to stay low in cover but rounds were coming at them. Mai was shooting at an Azteca of Navajo and Mexican descent a ways from them but a single round accidentally hit the little boy in the back. Mai cried out realizing what she had done. He ran screaming as though it was just a bee sting. She saw the blood on his yellow shirt, however.

The Mexican American woman ran forward firing a Beretta to try and get Mai away from the kids and she jumped in the way. Lee fired another blast on instinct hitting the Azteca female in the back of her right thigh taking a huge chunk from it. Mai also let off six rounds and she hit the same woman who shielded the two children. The little girl lay dead from the shotgun blast as well, an accident but all the same it was the cause as well as the 5.56 rounds. Two more rounds also hit the Mexican American woman in her left hip as Cherry fired on her. Mai ran to the woman's side. ""I was. it was an accident..."

Lee was going to pull her away but he saw in horror what they had done. "No..." Mai held the little boy as he bled. "We're going to save you...just hold on..."

"You fuckin monster..." The chola cried out coughing blood. She looked at Lee. "You...you're the one from the news..."

"Who are you?" He demanded. "I was on the news too...in New Arcadia...the bank...? we took it..."

"You're no better than me. You put these kids lives in danger..." Lee said his voice cracking but Mai wasn't sure he believed that. "That's bullshit...you know what I did...with the robbery money...? My share? I did what I could...to put into the hood...after what you did...rebuilding all these houses...it's not cheap...even that gas station...you put a lot of people...out of a job..."

"Neto...he did this to our home too..."

"Then go after Neto...you didn't...you kiled a kid...you...i never did that...he's going to make you wish...you were never born..."

Mai carried the Azteca and the wounded child into her car. "We've gotta try and save their lives..."

She got them into the car and they drove up the street to little Bighorn. She tried to stop the bleeding as best as she could. "Where was his mother?" Lee demanded. "They were hit. The D Stains hit them both in the legs. They were alive/...crawling ion the ground..."

Mai got the child to hold as still as she could. "Sweetie...I need you to be strong, okay?"

The child howled with agony but she checked and saw it was a through and through. "Pendeja...you took him all the way out here when it went through..."

Lee checked too. "It doesn't look like there was any internal damage. He can survive. It's better if he got away from the shooting."

The kid cried for his parents in Spanish. The woman said something reassuring trying to ignore her own pain. Mai was now working on getting the bullets out of her. "No!" Cried the woman. "It hurts too much..." She cried coughing blood. "I'm done for..no matter what." She said. Mai asked, "Who are you? Tell me your name."

"Renata...everybody calls me Nata..." Lee then remembered that name. "You were there to kill Neto...?"

"No..." Lee stated. "El Camello..." Mai said. She coughed blood. "Did you get Camello?" Mai shook her head. "Congrats...you managed to shoot me...a bunch of my compas...and two kids...at least he can live...but his sister..."

"We weren't there for you!" Lee said with anger in his tone. "You didn't have to get in our way! He's not your shot caller."

"I was trying to undo the damage you did before...I hope it was worth it..."

She passed out from her wounds. "God...that's one of the two women..." He realized. Mai eyed him. "What?"

"I..." His voice trailed off. "Neto..."

The two drove back. Mai had dropped the child off in the ER splitting up as the Aztecas were still coming at them. . Lee drove through Rancho with a lump in his throat. There was cops everywhere on Ray Lowenstein Boulevard so he avoided that area. Lee carried Nata's body and set it down behind the liqour store. He honked the horn and began to take off. Three Vagos saw this and two of them began to fire on the vehicle with their 9mm's. He stayed ducked down as he floored it. The Vagos managed to flag down help and get her to a hospital. Nata was the first Azteca to see what happened. She burst into tears on sight.

Lee pounded the stering wheel. "FUCK!" He roared. He wanted to get out of Los Santos bu it wasn't safe for him. He was torn between the desire to get out of town, stick around for his pay and the desire to turn himself in. He'd prided himself on learning from that past incident with the SMG and being careful about not hitting bystandarers but he had. Even though friends of Neto's were not his own friend it was true that Nata had never herself made a move against them. She was the wrong casualty.

"FUCK!"

Mai tried to keep her wits about her. She called Romeo. "We're clear. Listen...I need to lay low. I may need to get out of town for a 'd better make sure Lee gets what he's owed. And you'd better throw in a finders fee for me..."

"You telling me what to do?"

"i can ask Khoi to see what he'll say..."

"All right fuck it. You'll get paid. But it doesn't even matter if you tell him one way or another. This job was big and there was a big chance of shit going wrong,."

"Why do you say that?" She asked. "The brothers. In prison. It was an honor to get asked to do this but the truth is, even they made connects on the outside and that was who put them up to this job. Their contacts inside reached out to him and they reached out to me."

"What contacts? It can't be Trevor Phillips. I mean he's an enemy of the Aztecas and I did get some help from him today but..." He cut her off. "It's not that crazy motherfucker. I aint saying who asked me to do this shit. I aint trying to get smoked myslf. But these cats are bigger than your daddy even. No disrespect. That's just the truth. It's a higher power. That's all I can say. I really gota go..."

Fuck, Romeo what have you gotten into?

Mai sighed. She honored her end of the bargain sending Trevor a selfie. She would not take a new one today of herself but instead would send an old one she had sent Lee a couple months back. It was a picture of her with a white blouse in front of her crotch covering herself there but her breasts were fully showing. Her small breasts were all the same perky, her nipples pink, as a result of her 25% European heritage and they were not as dark as they had been at other times when she'd abs were toned her navel oval and symmetrical her soft silky smooth legs peeking out from behind the blouse that covered her genetalia, her normally black hair had more of an auburn color to it that day her hair lightened by the San Andrean sun.

It was not her best picture but still she felt dirty sending it to that old pervert.

Present Day

Neto learned what had happened to Nata from Gata who had been crying two days straight. He began punching the wall and Gata sobbed. "There was three of them...that chinita bitch, you were room mates with...a chino with a southern accent...and a Da Nang bitch..."

Neto's face turned dark. "Lee... Lee Shen..."

He punched the wall again. He punched a hole in it until his hand bled. The security guard told him to calm down. Neto grabbed his right arm and broke it in two places. "FUCK YOU!" Another security guard, one African American one Mexican American tackled him. He head butted the first and kicked the latter in the groin. He charged the doctor who had been the one to call her time of death. He had made Gata tell him. Neto growled, "You're fucking useless!" He slammed his head into the wall. "USELESS! USELESS!" With each slam. He cracked the doctor's head open.

Neto had been unable to cry anymore. Ever since what had happened to him in Mexico in 2012 that had sent him to America, he was all cried out but it didn't mean he was not upset. He felt sick he felt angry. He wanted to get high. He wanted to kill. Neto ran into two more security guards as they came towards him tackling them. "FUCK YOU!" He ran out of the hospital tearing into his car and he sped away. Gata stayed behind still sobbing.

One Week Later

Violence had broken out against the Da Nang Boys. Lee had since gone home but Neto had not ordered any retaliation against Lee nor had he gone against him yet. Lee and Mark were both aware of this and it was unsettling. They expected retaliation sooner or later. A man like Neto could wait but he often chose not to. A week was a reasonable amount of time that he might wait. They all saw the gravity of it. After their truce Lee had gone against the Aztecas something not exactly forbidden by Mark and it had not been against Neto directly but it had killed a woman he cared about. A romantic partner. Lee hadn't known that was who she was at the time. She was just an enemy combatant. He didn't feel bad that he had killed her on the basis of her gang affiliation but he also din't realize she was involved in the bank heist. That she had used her money to help those displaced.

Mark and Lee stared at each other. They had yet to say anything since Lee had filled him in. Mai was torn up about it realized how volitile this was. Neto had killed Victor and Miller. And Mark had killed Pajaro. And now, it seemed in part, Lee had killed Nata. He and Mai both had. And Cherry. The retaliation that had come next was not from Aztecas directly as far as large scale violence. Just two days later, the Psychos hit the DNB's hood and killed a few of their major gang members including Young Gun$. Baby Face had also been shot and was now in a coma. Clayton had barely survived.

The Da Nang Boys had taken a major than that, whatever relative peace the Los Santos and New Arcadian factions had was over. The fact that Neto had not attacked was intentional on his part. They had many opinions of him, most of them not good if not all of them but the idea that the Saint Of Death was a patient man was not one of those things said about him. But Neto was following Sun Tsu's playbook and trying to hide his disposition. He would need to make it something brilliant. They expected him to go after the BSU either in New Arcadia or Sunbelt. Mark would no doubt stand by Lee as he always did. Neto expected nothing less but he didn't imagine that the youngest Roman would be thrilled either. He did have total deniability. But Lee had put him in a difficult position for the sake of a job.

Vinewood, Los Santos

Patrick McReary came out of the movie theater throwing out the large tub of popcorn and large Sprunk. "Fuckin Revengers...waste of money."

He'd felt that in the two years he had been in Los Santos he had already spent too much time here but he also wondered if he didn't still need to give it more of a shot. Sure, he missed Liberty City but to show up back there was suicide. Both in terms of the police and in terms of the gangs that wanted him dead. Even after several decades, the mafia had influence enough to get him clipped. More than that, after seven years of warring with them with Paul and with Dwayne, it was a given that the Dominicans would be after him too.

He'd killed a lot of made men. Unlike Italians, he didn't see it as a sure death sentence but the other difference between made men and non Italians was that the mob families knew who and where their family was. In Packie's case he had one brother left and he was locked up. Los Santos was not his style. There were no Irish neighborhoods. There were ethnic enclaves for the Mexican and Chinese Americans. Even Jewish neighborhoods but there was no concentration of people of Erin. Luckily, there were also no Italian neighborhoods either.

The sound of sirens drew nearer. Several police cars pulled up and several officers burst from their cars Handguns and shotguns drawn on him. "YOU! Hands on your head and get down on your knees!" Yelled an African American officer, a female in her early 40's yelled. Packie had a glock 40 on him and he had been in shootouts with the cops. The shootout in Chinatown during tht bank job at the Bank Of Liberty came to mind but he'd had an M4 then and Niko and Derrick. Now he was alone. He also saw N.O.O.S.E agents at his 5'oclock with Rifles. He put his hands on his head and dropped to his knees. "Patrick McReary, you're under arrest for the murder of Angela Pegorino and Phillip Bell. Anything you say can and will be used against you..."

They soon had him at the station downtown. An officer came up to him and put him in room 2. "You know...you're in real deep shit. Your DNA has been found at other crime scenes. Out here. We're gonna do a test on you to see if your blood matches the blood at that shootout last week in Morningwood."

In fact, Packie had done it. A job for Simeon. "You got nothing or the cuffs would al;ready be on and I'd be on my wa o prison."

"Man with a rap sheet as long as yours you'd think you'd be smarter than that. You aint at Boilingbroke but you aint free right now are ya? You better hope we can't pop you for any murders in San Andreas. You'd better hope for that. You know they say our state is so fuckin liberal but at least we got the death penalty. Your state doesn't. Except for when you get tried in a federal case. You killed Angela Pegorino and Phillip Bell. I'm sure you didn't kill all those other wise guys at that little sit down in Alderney but it don't matter. You can be charged with all of lso tried to kill Commisioner McReary so you got attempted murder. It'll get to a point where you can't plea to any deals. No lesser charges. I'm no lawyer...but I'm pretty sure whacking more made men in one sitting than you can count o one hand should get you the needle/ Then there will be no more McReary's left to populate the world with their toxic genes."

Manitou

Paul was sitting in his cell reading a book about the Cheyenne tribe. Buckeye leaned in. "Hey whats up homefry?"

"Just reading, man. What's up with you?"

"On the way to the canteen bro. Gotta put a load of laundry in but I'm on my way to canteen too. You want anything?" Normally especially for new inmates, the idea of taking food or drink rom somebody who offered was a bad idea. At best they could say you owed them a debt at worst they could say they bought you but Paul was still considered a member of the gang too so it was okay. Still he did remind himself that he would fuck him up if need be if he tried to screw him over. Plus Buckeye knew better than to poison him or anything. Paul looked him in the eyes just a moment and he saw no deception. "Sure why not. If you give me five minutes I'll go with."

He noticed five black inmates somewhat blockin the tier. "Hey, Buckeye, come in here, man. Those guys right there. They're up to no good."

A Native inmate of Blackfoot ancestry went ahead too. he was twenty years old. Paul advised him, "Don't do it, man. Guys on a block like that it's trouble."

"Fuck you, bro. You're that crazy terrorist from the TV, man. You think everybody's out to get us, man. It aint like that out here. I been here almost a year I aint gotten jumped. You gotta realize something. This city aint like San Andreas and it aint like Liberty City. It's cut throat out here it's more about hustling and getting by but if you stay outta other people's way you won't get hurt."

"I been in prison longer than that. I'm tellng you don't do it..." Paul said. The youth shook his head and Buckeye said, "Look I don't want to admit either but I wouldn't walk down there."

"You guys are gangsters, man. What do you know? I'm just tryin to do my time and get out."

"You should listen to them, asshole..." Hardline said walking by with his laundry bag. "I'm good, bro. I don't need a gang to walk."

He made his way down there. Sure enough, the five black inmates made their move. "I just saw you talking to the Whoreriors. You down with them? Where you from?" Demanded an Afro Canadian inmate. "Hey I aint looking for trouble man I'm just trying to go do my laundry."

The inmate a dark skinned black male struck the Blackfoot in the face and the other four followed. Hardline watched the beating take place. "Fuck him. Let them teach him. They don't cre he's nt one of us."

Buckeye looked like he wanted to help but Hardline warned against him. Paul was aleady moving down. "If we just watch it makes us the same as them and it proves him right about us..." He charged into the group pig piling and knocking several over. One of them tried continue to pumble Buckeye but Paul kicked the man in the face. Before long the guards were pulling them apart. As they got ready to throw Pal in segregation he looked at the inmate. "I fuckin told you so. It doesn't matter what goddamn country!" He was beaten and thrown in.

He tried to sleep through most of his days in isolation. He didn't know how much time had passed by day three. Just then, the door opened and Officer Lang, a Chinese Canadian CO standing at 5'8 with golden brown skin and a buzz cut and glasses said, "You got a visitor."

"What? People in seg don't get visitors..." Paul said his five o'clock shadow being mosly brown with goldish tint in it growing in in the three days. "We'll even let ya shave but it's a one time offer. Otherwise you stay in here for the month.."

"Who's out there for me?" He asked. "Some Asian lady..." He replied. "Vietnamese by the looks of her."

Ivan

Ivan sat down on Markovich's porch. The old man came outside. "Did you bring me what I asked?"

Ivan popped the trunk of the stolen black Willard to reveal a beaten and bloodied white male, aged 25. "Good...I see your men are not useless."

"Yes. He was at Sunbelt University looking like he was moving dope at a rush. Who is he?"

"You need to focus on getting your father out of prison, Baba Yaga. This BSu bullshit is a distraction. This should keep their power base busy."

"Who is this man? My guys found a wire on him too. They got rid of it. It was very subtle and his cell phone had a bug in it too. is he some kind of informant?"

"This is Dylan Giles. I had some other contacts of ours from FSB...not men you ever served with but men I know personally. I had them look into any investigations into the BSU. This man did three years in prison. Managed to mostly be lone wolf. Manslaughter for killing a Thunderskin. He is a trusted enforcer for the president of the Sunbelt chapter. He's been somewhat inactive for a time due to recent incarceration But in 2011 and 2012 just before he went inside he got into a number of fights. Both with fists and guns. He fought the South Western Mexican gangs, he fought Ballers, Families, 52's and bikers. He was caught moving a van full of meds across state lines. The police believe it was for one of the Dixie Mob families. In order to stop himself from getiting a life sentence he coorperated with the FIB. he refused to name names of Dixie Mafia but he was willing to wear wire to confirm that some BSU are involved in the drug trade despite their no drugs bullshit."

Ivan removed the duct tape from the beaten man's mouth. "Is this true?"

"Yeah...calls have been made...calls to brothers in LS...brothers in Waston even are starting to use some of the stashes they steal off Aryans and the Spanish lords...start to get in the game themselves...Scott Parker doesn't like it but he's outta touch..."

"And you betrayed your prescious brothers values for money?" Ivan sneered. "You know...the Aztecas and the Families used to be anti didn't last for them either. "

"Look, I was selling drugs, man..."Dylan insisted. "I just moved it. Drive the van one place to another."

"My men also reported something more interesting to me..." Stated Markovich. "A lot of the calls that were made to the Sunbelt BSU were from San Andrean prisons. Some of the SU inside have had to rely on the Vanguard for protection and as a show of loyalty, they forced them to start getting involved in smuggling drugs in. Specifically because of their anti drugs policy. i had access to some of these phone calls. And I looked at some files. Cofidential of course. It seems the FIB has been building up a RICO case. Nobody knew. Not even the Roman Family. And one of them is fucking an agent."

"That's because i wasn't informing for them..." Stated Dylan. "But I'm pretty sure New Arcadia an Red Stick are in the loop now...I'm informing for Blackwater's branch. That was where I got the van from. Red Stick is in the loop too but they'te keeping it close out there. But between Sunbelt, Blackwater, Los Santos and Waston communication has been happening."

"And you don't know if the president of Sunbelt knows about this? He did not sign off on these drugs?"

"It's got nothing to do with him specifically..." Stated the BSU member. "But the feds are gonna want to talk to him. If he knows and hasn't had me killed it means he approved. Ryan and Roman...always saw things differently. But...I imagine Ryan would kill me anyway just to save face...I partied with brothers in Blackwater too...my hometown I refused to name any of them. I only named four guys. They came with me on these script runs. When this goes through they'll be gong dwn for getting in bed with the Dixie Mob."

ivan untied him and let him out of the trunk. "This dixie mobster. Who is he?" Demanded Ivan. "I don't know. I just get a call. We all did..."

"If they have all these phone call...why did they not arrest you? And implicate all of the LS brothers and Wastonian brothers who are doing the same thing?"

"They're waiting for the next time I'm sup[posed to move another van. I'm telling you, dude...these feds are tricky fucks...they made sure that even though we talked in code...when I talked to the brothers having to be slaves to the AV in San Andreas, they made sure we talked shop. Same with the BSU in Waston. They're talking about expanding into Liberty City and linking up with the chapter there. these guys don't have real street smarts."

"So you fuck your own brothers over. RICO case. Why?"

"It could be RICO or it could be gang injunctions depending on how each city goes through with things. Each state...also...the kind of meds the Dixies were selling...they were even wanting to start selling beyond the south. Cutting in on San Andren markets under the radar. If they were found out it would piss off the competition. They used us as a fuckin middle man!"

Markovich nodded. "I know what you say is true..."

He called out, "Natasha!" His daughter and two m men came out with a beaten and bloodied Mexican American male from North Vinewood. His name was Rex Gonzales. "I know you...you're from New Austin. You're the guy that connected us with those prescription guys. Fuck you doing here, man...?" Markovich handed him files including police records that were supposed to be kept under the radar including his arrest in Red Stick. "You're a fucking rat?!" Cried Rex. "Yes..." Ivan said handing him a .22. "We have a vested interest in seeing you succeed..." He lied. "Who WE are is not important but what we want from you is. This man is a rat. He's been trying to get the BSU caught up in drug trafficking charges across state lines. Conspiracy..."

"I kill him the feds come after me..."

"Not true..." Ivan said. "We dealt with his wire and his cell phone. But if you do not kill him..." He put the Makarov to his skull. "I kill you."

Rex glared at Dylan. "You know...we're not from the same chapter so I get not having loyalty to me but your own brothers?! Hell we're all BROThERS STANDING UNITED. And you just fucked that up I thought you wanted to make us powerful. Powerful enough to stand up to the vagos after they killed Lyle. But you're just a piece of shit rat!"

He fired a shot into Dylan's chest before he could protest. Dylan grabbed his arm his nails digging into his left and Rex shot him again this time in the heart "Fucking snitch piece of shit!" He pt the barrel to the man's left eye and pulled the trigger a third time. Ivan ordered Natasha, "Get him cleaned up and ready to go."

After this was done, they blind folded him putting him in the trunk of a red Admiral. They drove him away from Markovich's place until he was in a back alley in Sandy Shores. he had not seen how they had gotten to or from the house. Ivan and Natasha cleaned out with bleach any trace they had been in the car. They let him out while they cleaned out the car. Ivan said, "All right. Now all you need to do is drive the body out to Mount Chiliad. We have a grave freshly dg there. Go aloe. You don't have to dig just fill it in. I will get rid of the gum..." He held up the .22 and took out the magazine as a shpow of good faith. He handed him a burner cell phone. "You text me when you get there. Not before. Only when I text you back can you text back...if you deviate from the plan you will be killed. We have men all over the state."

"What about after you text back?" He asked. Ivan sighed. "This man has been missing for about 30 hours or more. They always have that thing about 48 hours and missing reports but with a criminal informant I imagine things are much more urgent. We're going to contact our men across state lines. Check police scanners. Make sure it is ok for you to come down from Mount Chilliad."

Natasha added, "Once it's clear you can go back home. We have your banking information. You will be rewarded for this."

With that, he drove off as instructed. Ivan began to drive towards Boilinbroke. It was about a half hour but they got there. They didn't need to actually be in there. They just needed it to ping off the cell towers. They texted him and Natasha smiled. "You can be quite ruthless when you set your mind to it, Baba Yaga..." She said with a smile. I am impressed" She said as she wired the $20 k to Rex's account. Did the cheese in the trap work?

He responded three minutes later. It took the bait.

Ivan dialed 911 to reach the Sandy Shores Sheriff's Department. He was going to make the call but Natasha took it from him putting on an American accent. "Officer...listen uh...I was just hiking up Mount Chilliad and I saw this really scary looking Hispanic man digging a hole. I'm really scared. I managed to see his plates too but I ran as quiely as I cou.d I'm not sure if he head me or saw me...please help..."

She was using a different burner for this call. "All right m'aam. Just remain calm. Can you describe him? What clothes he was wearing? Height, weight, age?"

She described him, the car, and the plates. She then got off the phone. She turned to him. "The police are on their way. He will be arrested for killing a federal witness once they find out who Dylan is. Also it looks like he just got a call from a friend in prison ordering him to do it."

Ivan destroyed the cell phone taking the sim card and battery out and then crushing it. They drove away from Boilingbroke for about ten minutes until they were on the side of a road of another highway of seemingly endless desert. She turned to him. " Do you want to fuck?"She asked.

"What? Again/"

"Yes. I am up front about this. I do not beat around bush like your chorny girlfriend. I know she is a former church girl too maybe this is why she is so repressed and not open to the idea that a man can be into more than one woman."

Ivan chuckled. "So you still like me, huh? Some italian man not so long ago said Russian women go to get away from us. To America I mean. Like humping ice he said."

"Igf this were true none of the ships woul have Russian men. American men are sexy but they don't speak Russia. And they smile like idiots in public for no reason. They look drunk or mentally ill."

"I always found this strange too. I was born in the capital but once I got back home they helped me see how strange and arbitrary it is, actually."

"It's not like humping ice but the homeland is cold. Not like San Andreas."

"Yes, I'm surprised you'd want to fuck out here...being so hot..." She nodded. "take me. on the hood of this car Your cock is big and warm but that Italian has one thing right it's cold where we come from. And not may Russians get to have the sun on their asses while fucking..." She pushed him down onto the hood. "I am lady. I get anal sun warmth first..." She lowered her black pants pulling them down to reveal a a red g string beneath her black jeans and she kissed Ivan getting on top of them. Sugar...I am so sorry...he said looking at his stiffening member. It has a mind of its own..."

1 Week Later

The death of Dylan and the arrest o Rex led to a RICO charge after BSU members from Waston were arrested by the FIB there, forty LS members who were living just outside the city limits or the county were also arrested and some drugs were in fact found including six keys in one club house In Sunbelt, the few men that had been from the Sunbelt chapter was arrested instantly and pressed to give up either Ryan despite no confirmation being given but they were also expected to give up the Dixie Mob. They didn't so far do this either. As a result, in the state of San Andreas, the BSU was officially considered a high risk gang and any members in Boilingbroke and other San Andreas prisons were put in SHU.

From what he had heard New Austin's prison policies were about to change and have the same thing. Individual gang injunctions had also been implimented in Sunbelt with anybody with past affiliation to BSU or tattoos getting arrested. There was going to be more arrests but the Sunbelt Militia members were either on the run elsewhere in the state or was pleased with himself. Even if it didn't directly impact New Arcadia or Red Stick it was still at least a crush to morale to other BSU members. Even if the BSU's wars were not nessecarily Mark's and Mark's were not always theirs, the fact was they had warred with the Makovvich Family which made them an enemy o the Bravta. Ivan had not used a tactic that marcus himself would not use. He knew Neto if he found out would have a problem with it but even Markovich being FSB and a gangster second. Ivan was meant to be subversive as an FBS agent to America first and a gangster second

If Mark wanted revenge or if any of them had revenge in mind, they would have to do so under a different banner than the BSU. Or if they did continue to do so as BSU, they too must realize they could no longer escape prison or feds. Even if they somehow managed to make it so that they never used drugs again for profit again. One of the men that had been one of Dylan's felllow Sunbelt BSU had supplied Waston with a van full of shit too. He had actually been arresed with the Waston chapter. Though Waston suffered far less loss than LS and other San Andrean BSU had, and Sunbelt had taken the least losses, it was unlikely that they wol get through it without more BSU getting caught up and now with the murder of Dylan and Waston's leadership was royally pissed at Sunbelt.

Ivan felt victorious. On top of that, the sex he'd had with Natasha. Umnbeknowst to him, Grisha was approaching an enemy whom Ivan had not met himself but all the same was an enemy. "Just so we understand each other..." Grisha stated. "I am not saying I agree wit your views. My country fought men like you who wore those tattoos..." He said pointing at Eddie's swastika. "As their uniforms."

"Lok, I don't nessecarily believe in this either. But it is the strongest white gang And I am a Wood. And what I cherish above all else is strength. It's better to be a predator than a victim. But in a way, doesn't this show more dedication? Nazis could take their uniforms off and hide in Argentina. This is for life..." Eddie stated. "Unless you get laser removal surgery..." Stated Grisha.

Eddie shook his head. "That's for rats and drop out punks. You're doing this because it's what we ask of you. And it makes sure your Bravta brohers are safe on the inside. Your US born ones. We can also get your bropthers born overseas out of the others car too. You don't want to be in that ar."

"Because of the Native Americans and Asians in it?" Asked Grisha . "I thought you Vanguard guys weren't all racist? Or that if you are it was only towards Chorny's?"

"Aint about hate. ..." Eddie said. "Russian or not white is white. And the Indians have been shankng Asians for reasons even I don't understand yet. I think it has something to do with the South Siders but then...it's complicated. Point is, Tribal Brotherhood would try and shank you just as much. Maybe they decide to get revenge on Russian nationals for selling Alaska. In prison, we don't just hold personal grudges for twenty or more years. We hold historical grudges that have gone on for centuries..."

He showed him a picture of a pregnant female gang member associated with the Ballas. "If you really want to hurt Ivan, go after her..." Grisha said. "You do this, you would have access to our weapons supply. We're always willing to give a better deal...even if it makes less money in the short term it would make more in the long term so it's not entirely selfless.."

"Question is...why should I trust a man that wars with his own father?" Demanded Eddie. Grisha shot back, "Why should I trust a Vanguard heavy weight who is rumored to have the same taste in women as Ivan himself? Of course, that's just if the alleged rumors are true..."

"Alleged is right..." Eddie lied. In truth though he was a savage Vanguard killer, he was uncertain if word about the kind of shit he had done recently to their enemies had reached the ears of brothers inside. Even if it was an enemy he wondered if he could or would be green lit or not. It went against the code of honor but G Note was considered less than nothing in their eyes. If not for her genes, at least for her gang affiliation. Any word the AV might hear about said video would not come from Eddie or his crew in Blaine County. Or West Los Santos. If it did, it would come from the Families themselves and would have to be taken with a grain of salt though in the past he had been given shit for what relations he had on the outside with certain women in a past tense when he first joined the prison gang. He didn't know the official policy with that. Some people had never told him these things and those that shunned it he didn't know if it was an official thing or if it was just down to personality.

Still even if they objected to what he had done to G Note should they find out, they couldn't object to him killing Sugar. Or could they?

Eddie told Grisha, "All right...I might have an idea. I want to keep the brothers away from this if I c can and try and farm this out. If not, we'll do it your way. We can both go after her. And we can strangle Ivan with his bastard's umbellical cord. I'll be in touch. Now your stateside Ruskies are already well looked after in the wood pile, brother. You sure you don't want me to move some of your foreign borns out of the Others car?"

Grisha sighed. "I think this is probably a good idea. My father has dealt with the Vanguard before too to look after Russian American inmates out here but somehow we've always stayed in the Others car. Yet nothing really stopped us from interacting. But even so...if the Others car is this bad it's best if we get my countrymen transferred. If the Native American car can try and break away from Asians, I suppose we could also do the same and get out of the Others car. But I don't know how you'll convince any Vagos to keep the Indians from trying to come after us should they choose ti.

""You let me worry about that. Matter of fact, I got some house cleaning to do. On the south side of the house..."

With that, Grisha got into his car and drove away. Eddi smoked a cigarette while waiting for his new guests. He finally saw a dark blue Oracle. Two men got out both members of MH brought with them a beaten and bloodied Chicano gang banger. He was from Taco Flats and a homie of Casper. In fact, he had been at the drug deal that the Families and Ballas had shot up.. One of the MH 1 members, a white guy with curly black hair and gray eyes and an angry red face wearing a red sleeveless t shirt and who had an SS lightning bolt on his left arm, had a bloody nose. "This fuckin spic head butted me!" He punched the cholo in the stomach and followed up with a roundhouse to the face. "Don't rough him up too bad, Roger. We want to still get him to talk while he stil can..."

Eddie looked at the beaten cholo who had swollen eyes a broken nose, three teeth knocked out a busted lip, and cuts all up and down his face including his cheeks. "You know who I am?" Asked Eddie. The cholo spat blood. "A Wood who forgot his place..."

"You know...unlike my two friends here...I believe in equality. And cooperation. But a lot of Onda shot callers have ordered guys like you in prison to clean house against us. When people talk about the AV and Onda...the conversation often comes to who would betray who first. The old Berlin and Tokyo thing. I don't think it has to come to that. But you have to admit...sometimes you cholos do assault brothers in the wood pile for petty reasons. With alllies like you who needs enemies? Look at how your gangs treat the Armenians too!"

"The fuck does any of this have to do with the dope deal, fool? I know that's what this is about..." The cholo growled. "And I aint telling you where Casper is. That's my boy. Even if I did, motherfucker...you couldn't get to him. We're in Davis!"

"So you're willing to die for your friend is that what I'm hearing, Rodrigo?" The cholo glared. "Si mon que si, guero. I'll die for my varrio."

Eddie went to the seat of his own truck and came back with a sharp dagger. "I was thinking of carving you up some a bit...but then I got to thinking...why not a little game of man vs nature?" He beckoned to the two MH 1 members who put him in Eddie's truck. Eddie hopped up front and began to drive. "Where the fuck are you taking me, homes?!" Cried out the Davis Vago. "We should be taken you south of the border, fuck head!" Growled the other gangster a beefy red haired blue eyed white male of six feet.

They drove until they reached what looked like a watering hole. "Get him out!" Eddie told them. They did as he asked. "You know one thing I've noticed about Mexicans ? Something I respect? really, farmers in general living out here. It's having to deal with those goddamn javelinas. I see men and women shooting them all the time to keep them out of ranches."

He threw the cholo to the dirt and sure enough, he spotted two of them. He shoved the wounded man towards them. Eddie proceeded to gouge Rodrigo's eyes out and he screamed as his nails caused his eyes to bleed and he gave him a kick from behind. "I just wanted af a fair fight. Usually I see ranchers with guns...see javelinas...nasty fuckers. They can't see well. But they hear well..." He ripped off the bleeding cholos wife beater. "I think you're attracting them. Normally a few of em would be freaked out by loud noise. But I see a herd of em..."

Sure enough at least six were coming. "What good is killing one anchor baby gonna do, Ed?" Demaned the MH 1 member who was named pete who had red hair. "This guy had rank in his hood. He aint a shot caller but I had some buddies on my payroll in the Davis PD do some digging around. This asshole is suspected to run at least a ten man crew of drug boys on the corner. And from what I asked around about him in the joint, he and Casper both had a lot of clout with the Vagos. See his tattoo?" He beckoned to a tattoo of an Aztec bodyguard.

"Heard Vagos talk about those. A lot of the esquinas...that's helpers if you don't speak Spanish...Vagos that aint Onda but fight in Onda's honor...t they get this tattoo here sometomes. Not eve enough to alert the DOC but still. That's a Cuahchiqueh. Aztec bodyguard. In this metaphor an Ondero or even just a shot caller is the king. So this fucker has rank. Even if he is just one man"

"You fuckin Aryan faggots are dead!" Screamed Rodrigo. "That's just the thing. You guys say we're a partnership but why is it only you get to clean house for either your own or one of us? Or you can make a demand that we kill one of our own. But we don't get to do that to one of you? We're supposed to just trust that your own gang will check you? By you and your friends fucking us on that dope deal you put your neighborhood at risk. MAYBE with Onda even. I bet I can get them to green light you. Then again maybe not."

"Fuckin deluded white boy! Onda mght crack the wip on us but they aint siding with woods over Raza!"

"And there in lies the problem. There's no precedent for Woods cleaning house when an Ese gets outta line. Well goddamn it I need to set one."

The javelinas charged. Rodrigo was rammed by one with its tusks and he went flying back several feet. Eddie smirked. "You know I heard about some woman out in Arizona survived an attack from two of these things. Difference is she survived cause she had help."

One sank its teeth into Rodrigo's neck. The other bit around his upper body going for his face. Eddie laughed as flesh was torn from his face and neck and the next four went for his legs. "You want me to stop them? You tell me what the fuck i wanna know! Javelinas rarely attack humans but when they do they fuck you up!"

"I'll...talk...!"

"What's that?!" Eddie smirked as the cholo helplessly tried to fight off the pig like creatures. It bit his righht arm/ "I'll...talk..!" He cried. "He stays in..." Eddie raised his pistol shooting the javelina in the head that was attacking him. The other two MH 1 members looked at each other and then fired their Glocks into the rest of them helping Eddie put them dowm. "You were saying?" H asked as he pulled out his large hunting knife. "Don't lie to me...I'll know it..."

"He stays off fuckin...Willowfield Ave it's a house between there and davis Boulevard man...! He's got a purple Peyote parked out there out front..."

"That wasn't so hard was it?" Pete asked. Roger snorted, "So much for being a guard to royalty..."

Eddie shook his head. "I'm a little let down. Here I was thinking you'd hold out...see I believe you. But you can't trust a man that betrays his own homeboy. Your services are no longer requied."

With that, he began to cut into his back after putting him in a prone position. He began to cut him with the machete. "Ed, what the fuck are you doing, bro?" Demanded Roger. pete agreed, "You're crazy! let's get outta here!"

"I'm going to show you what happens when you piss me off!" He cut through his ribs severing them and it was a bloody and sickening sight as well as sound. Rodrigo's screams didn't sound human. Much to the terror of the two Most Hated gang members saw that Eddie had become hard from his agony cries. He then pulled his lungs out from the back and the bloody lungs liiked like bloody "Wings" He died screaming and nobody but the three killing him heard it.. Eddie stood his face covered in Rodrigo's blood. "This shows T Flats...that we won't take this shit laying down...they want a fucking deal with us they better honor it..."

"Ed..." Said Roger with disgust in his face but he showed courage. "Killing one wetback or two isn't gonna do nothing. With MH 1 we're in other states but we're limited in San Andreas. I mean what 200 state wide? That's not enough we need more brothers. Our problem is we got more AV than MH 1 and MH is your enforcement but you go to the SHU. With the Mexicans it's the other way around for north and south. Even the niggers have it that way. Tons of Ballas and Families but few make it into the Black Guerilla Army."

"Everybody wants to be Julius Cesar but nobody wants to be a centurian..."

"I won't hear any bad mouthing of the Vanguard..." Eddie wared. "Men who protect our brothers inside...you want to kill one of them?" Eddie got in the black haired Aryan's face. "You can use racial slurs. I try not to. But it's not what you say it's what you do. I don't think we're superior but we got a right to exist. But if what you say is true and we are better than them I still have offed more of them than you have."

"Yeah but you been around longer than us, Ed. And that's my point. We're feared inside cause despite our numbers we're more dangerous than anybody else. Woods have been the best at war historically and prison warfare is no exception. We kill more per member but that also mans our guys have killed more men than the average Vago or Baller. At least prisoners, that is. So why aint we killing more than this? You kill a couple of Tranny bitches here a taco vender there."

"It's quality over quantity. What do you think will put more fear in their hearts? If I storm their neighborhioods and mow them down by the dozen with an M4? Or if I show them what true carnage and warfare is?" He sneered. "The Ballas will know just as much as the Families what we're capable of. They know that if they come at me and even if they succeed it'll cost them. Now...the south siders are going to know what I'm capable of. With CGF they came to me. This shows that the hand of Thor can find them aywhere. Even in Davis."

The AV shot caller then told them "Get a picture of him and send it to the Shot Caller from Taco Flats. The ghetto boys know what I'm capable of and now so do the barrio next thing to do is to let the Asians and pacific Islanders see what happens when they come after us."

He turned to the two men. "That said, you're right we don't have enough in the way of numbers. You two need to ht the streets and sttart recruiting. You say you have 200 people give or take.I'd like to see 300 before the year ends. in ten years...1000. You ask me, the Vanguard needs to close the books for a while. Too many snitches. But that's another story."

The two men departed to get rid of the body. Eddie had arranged for another meeting wit men from a different gang. A dark green Glendale pulled up and four African Americans got out. First and foremost was a man in his mid twenties a dark skinnedb lack male with a shaved head. He wore a dark green and white checkered shirt and baggy black jeans. Eddie smirked. "It really nessecary for you to have backup?"

"Hey you're the one that called a nigga out here, man!"

He then eyed the solo Aryan. "Bigger quesion is how come you don't got any of your boys out here?"

"Don't need em. You and me are the only ones that need to see what I got."

"What makes you think I wouldnt just dump on your ass? We're at war. I could see a peace with black and brown the way we did with Ballas but it'll never happen betweeen us and you."

"Because for you personally there's more at stake. You know that bitch whose kid you killed?"

"Fuck you talking about? i aint kill no kids. Cracker you crazy."

"Don't bullshit me. I got people in the Los Santos plice department that know you did it..."

"That's bullshit!" The dark skinned black male said. "Cause if that was true I'd be locked up right now. Kinda like where your jailbird ass been for years."

"I said they knew who you are..." State Eddie. "I NEVE said the LSPD, or just regular Davis PD CARED. Cause I can tell you for a fact they don't."

He showed him a picture of the pregnant Imani AKA Sugar. "Thing is...even though I never said anything to the bitch...the man on the inside I talked to...he did. He thought a little social expiriment would be funny. He said that he was one of those cops that 'tried' to solve in but it's a cold case. He told her it's the case that keeps him up at night. Yeah...up at night laughing."

"Why the hell should I trust some lightning bolt tatted cracker like you? You'd day ANYHTHNG to keep us at each other's throats."

"I guess the question is who do you think is a bigger devil then? The AV or the police? And before you answer that just remember something. When it comes to b;lack on black crime...actually forget that. When you aint killing each other you kill us more than we kill you. But when we do kill you it's not the AV who does it as often as it's the cops. If one of you does get shot by a white guy, he's more likely to wear a badge than this..." He said referring to his tattoos. "So spare me the civil rights act. You're no more of a real black power man than I am for white. We're just two oppurtunists who've killed our fair share of our own. my motives might be to keep you divided so you don't come at us. I admit it is. But i know in the end it won't. You're more than welcome to come n try and get me when it's over. But that bitch will probably get you before you get me. Or before I get you. Think about it. Your hoods are forced to peace treat with each other now. Closer proximity. "

"And you don't happen to have no reasons yourself wantin her dead?"

"I do. But I've already taken my pound of flesh from CGF. And as for the Ballas she's more of a pregnant dropout who fucked a commie than an acTive Baller. But yes, i will be going after G Bone and janea and Tyson too. I especially want to end Stone. But that's nether here nor there. She's been after the guy who killed her son for years and now because of one mouthy pig...she knows who you are. Let me ask you. Do you got any upcoming meetings with Covenant Ave?"

"Yeah...how you know that?"

"Lucky guess...or maybe not but in yoUr case it;'s perfect oppurtunity for her to end you. Her own hood might not even discipline her for it cause she's knocked up."

"I aint no child kiler man. Not on purpose. Her boy was a stray round. If I kill her now I'd be taking two lives. i'd get the needle for that shit. no thanks, homie."

"Then it all comes down to the question of if you value your life more...or an unborn child? A lot of people would wrestle with that question, broski. I aint one of em. If it's between me and a kid it's too fuckin bad for that kid."

"Aight look...let's say I do this...what do i do to stop this from blowing back on me?"

"I'm going to take out the cop that leaked your information. I was able to pay him a little extra something something to tell me all about who Sugar is and her story and what he knows about her but now I'm thinking this pig could also use oUr own financial transactions together against me somehow. He shouldn't be able to but from what I hear he's got internal affairs up his ass..." Eddie lied. "He could be facing charges anyway and I don't want hiM thinking that if he gives up what he knows about me and what I paid him for, he can get a lighter sentence."

With that, Eddie left the area.

Davis

Sugar stared at the texts she had gotten with a picture of the man who had killed her son. She couldn't believe it and she didn't know who had sent it but it was a blocked number stating he was a cop who had been on teh case. He'd even MAILED her a copy of everything she had on the man who had shot her son. She had grown up knowing not to trust the cops. From what the file said he was just one of a few men from 165th street that had been picked up on suspiscion of the shooting and that he had been held for 42 hours and questioned but then release.

She knew she had another baby to think about but she had failed to protect her last one. She had to make it right. She loaded a magazine into her Browning HP and got ready to hit the road.

New Arcadia

Lil King spotted his brother. They had arranged to meet. He tried to hold his cool but after having lost mom and G Note and having to leave baby sister behind he lost in tears rolling down his cheeks as his older brother finally sprung from the pint, was free. The two embraced in a hug. "They let me out early, little bro. Good behaVior. They PC'd a nigga up too cause of some funk with the ese's but I aint request it. "I need a spot...I know i can't live with you but since I been back...I been crashing at this house used to be a squatter place where junkies crash...I got em up outta there with this..."He revealed his 9 but he said, "I'm glad they aint try me cause I don't know if I cOuld shoot anymore."

"They might get at you after the fact, bruh. But with me out they aint gonna even think of coming back on you. on the real i dropped the ball and I'm sorry I wasn't there for yall. And I missed mama's funeral...you gotta tell me what happened out there...but for now I'm gonna start to fix everything."

"I been keeping plugged into the streets and shit is hot. I'm not sure if I even wanna stay in the 9th ward. Theres been some wars going on the last year and i think the worst of it's over but...I just got out. I may need to move on to Treeport. Pigs probably aint gonna be cool with that. But I don't care. They'd probably expect me to go to another state or even Red Stick but not there."

"Hey don't fuck around, it's not worth going back to Sudan for..."

"Don't trip baby brother. The worst is over. You home now. You only been gone two years I been gone longer than that. We missed a lot but at the same time not much. And the beautiful thing about this state? We can always go to another city. Any part of the state can become your home."

"What about you know who?"

The lighter skinned black gang member got a glare. "He's staying in the 17th ward. He know he can't stay in the 9th no more. So he's hiding out there and those bitches out there protect him. Aint that a bitch? He gets outta the joint sooner than I do. They called flat out murder manslaughter a fuckin crime of passion but I get more time for robbery..."

"Man you the only family I got left in this city and I can't stay in LS no more. i aint trying to see you dead or in prison, cuz..." King looked at Lil King. "Wha's this cuz, shit? you changed it up on me, boy?" He chuckled. "Them Ballas out west tried to kill me and I aint had problems with Families here. The niggas claiming B dog out here was just fools we went to school with you know that."

"Nigga, we're Narcadians, homie. We don't need none of that kin can bullshit, from Carcer or LS. Bad enough we got the 3rd ward, 2nd ward, 4th ward and 17th niggas out there. I know the 3rd took over the city. An 17th they like the number one dick rides at the number 2 spot.4th trying to hold out but they isolated. Honestly, I'd rather work with them niggas if I gotta roll with anybody outside my hood. The boy Jerod, Eric, Quincy, they all got hit by bitches from other wards, man. And I don't even care that Curtis Roman looked out for me in there. He the ony Roman that did so he the only Roman I'd ever help out."

"Yeah but you know how it be. Everubody enemies with one hood today somebody else the next."

"I Don't get down like that. If anybody's ever tried to smoke me I can't ever trust em. I've even shared motherfuckin coffee from some heads from the 10th up in Sudan but they aint killed nobody in my hood I give a fuck about. If it had been anybody I fucked with, I would hate them too.""

"Damn, bro I just got back from LS on that gang bang shit I had enough. I aint agaaist grinding to stay alive but I don't want the beef no more.

"i understand that. And i understand that niggas ariound here think it's Cool to be boys with your enemy tomorrow an enemies with your boy tomorrow that you was cool with today. But don't noody ever get ahead that way. And whatever the case is with all that, this is strictly family business. I gotta go after the motherfuckers that laid daddy out. And if any 17th ward bitches get in my way they get got too."

He calmed down a bit and said, "Look, I aint asking you to get down with that 9th life but I'm still with it. I'll support you long as I can. We family. It don't matter which one of us pop unc. Long as one of us does."

"Can you just hold up a bit on that? just for a week or two?" Lil King begged. "Mama wouldn't want you doing that."

"Mama don't want nothing bro. I miss her and I dont blame you cause it could have just as easily been me in that car if we'd all stayed here. I aint saying you failed to protect her But i didn't get to be with her on her last day or go to her funeral. So don't talk to me about her right now..."

"If you think five oh aint watching you and him, you wrong. They'd expect that."

"For now I will then..." Agreed King. "But next time i get a chance aint nothing you say keeping me from that bitch."

---

Tio Luca is visually inspired by Kevin Alejandro

Tia Griselda is visually based on Talisa De Soto.

Benny is visually based on Michael Duval from Queen Of The South

Benny's girlriend is based on Isabella from Queen Of The South and the woman that Chico shot Tina, is based on Brenda from Queen Of The South.

As far as the concrete soldier song that was not meant to take away from Mark's nickname but rather illustrate the warriorhood of the RW gang and honestly, it's a good song for urban violence for urban tribal gangs and a pretty damn good war song. Just like in New Arcadia how he used Nobody praying For Me I decided to go this route.

I wanted to show a more human side to Khoi as well. He feels at times he fought on the wrong side of the Vietnam war but on the other hand his role and the IAA's role in the drug trade in the 80's also ives him regret.

As for what Cherry and Gina discussed it's pretty much true and I thought it was time they had a discussion on the subject.,.

REVENGERS IS OBVIOUSLY A PARODY OF THE AVENGERS as for the time skips i apologize but me and zilla will be doing a time skip so it doesn't matter too much.

As for Eddie, is he a sick fuck or is he a sick fuck? Who do you want to see kill him? Lucifer already has a nasty death coming his way so whoever and whatever kills him would need to be i woulld rather have it be a Families gang member but then by the time it gets around to his death he will have killed far more than just the Families so most will have a bone to pick with him. In theory I would say maybe Lamar could kill him but I don't think he has the creative imagination. And Packie got arrested. Do you think the charges will stick and should he end up inside with Gerry?

As far as Ivan's back and forth with Charlie that wa somewhat of a follow up to some of the shit Charlie talked about Ivan. Ivans not anti Italian he just was talking shit as a tit for ta kind of deal. Honestly, even though Ivan did get in more insullts this time around, Charlie still did pretty god too and honestly if two white ethnicities are going to insult each other, what better way than to talk about World War II? I would say one of the best intillectual digs Charlie made was about Stalin vs them killing The Duke.

And a character from Carpe Diem, Javier appeared as a middle aged dropout. And as for Syke O what he did was brutal but I did as a trade off kill Sucia from Sunbelt. Plus i figured as far as who i had him kill were oc's i made up just as a reason for frther bloodshed between the Aztecs and Rifas kinda like Zilla 2000 did with killing an poc named Padraig to get to the McReary's. So i wrote backstory or at least a flashback in which Padraig helped them before. Despite Syke O's brutality he does have a lighter side to him too.

As far as the javelina attack that's somewha bsed on a real javelina attack in Arizona except the woman survived. also Zilla that other oc i had Lee kill was Nata.I didn't want to but i decided it would have a huge impact. After what Ivan did to the BSU im expecting heavy retaliation on Zilla's part. They've already shown they're not afraid to go to LS. I don't imaginre the BSU would hesitate to go after the Russians either. Even though I have the Markovich Family living in the richer area of Vinewood, if i had to state an actual gang territory for them I would say Glendale California and I need to come up with a replica name for that but that area is heavily Armenians and russians and the two are allies.

Also if any of you are uneasy about racial feuds in these stories well next chapter will be less about tnat and more about straight up gang rivalries. I'll try to dial back on the slurs for the sake of the sissified...for now. And because I don't want to use it as a crutch. But as far as the war with the AV and Eddie things are just getting started He's a hard man to kill.

And Lil King is back in New Arcadia. Is this the last we will see of him? Possibly yes at least as i am out f ideas to write for him but I gave him an ambigous ending though kind of like Hell On Wheels did with Joseph Blackmoon. It's up to the reviewers to fill in the rest should you want to.

As for what Natasha said (Which sounds like Svetlana too her visual basis) a lot of Russians blieve that about smiling in public and I honestly agree with it. Should Paul have a visit with Mai or hold out longer and go crazy in isolation? I will make it interesting either way. Reviewers choice.

YOU'RE JUST GONNA HAVE TO FORGIVE THE TYPOS I WILL FIX THEM ASAP BIT I CANT TOMMOROW MAYBE THE NEXT DAY I CAN. I HAVE TRIED SEVVERAL TIMES TO SAVE THESE CHANGES. AND I BEEN DONE WITH THE CHAPTER SEVERAL DAYS. ALSO ONE OF MY FAVORITE MUSICIANS TOKER FRO BROWNSIDE WAS MURDERED IN ROSARITO BY THE CARTEL SO IM A BIT UPSET BY THAT. THIS FUCKING COMPUTER SUCKS! AND I NEED A BETA!'

As for the hinted heist in New Arcadia that's nothing that wasn't revealed in the last chapter of that story. I look forward to seeing what i'ts gonna be

Anywy thats alll for now