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.

74. The Art Of War Part 2

Ivan

October 27, 2015

All We Have Is Today

He'd arranged to meet with Kuma since the Ethiopian national had since reached out to him. He had actually asked him to find his son on the University of LS campus. He finally found the 21 year old talking to a Japanese American girl. They appeared to be a couple. "Abraham! I need to talk to you."

The Ethiopian American was rather scrawny and about five eleven in height. He had a long and skinny head and small lips and a small nose. His skin was as dark as any fully black American but because of his mixed mostly black with some Arab features he had a distinctly Ethiopian look to him and he looked more black than middle eastern. The Japanese girl was short and maybe twenty pounds overweight but was not too chubby, only a little she wore blue eye shadow and wore a black halter top that was sleeveless plus blue jeans. Her breast size was 34 B yet they seemed bigger than they were. She was 108 lbs and five foot one

She eyed him. "Do you know him?"

"Nah, I don't..." Abraham said. "Who are you?"

"I'm a long time friend of your father's. He would like to talk to you."

He sighed. "Sakura, can you give us five minutes? Better yet I'll call you later. I promise..."

"You did promise we'd go to the movies..." She said a look of disappointment on the Asian woman's face. "And we will baby I'm a man of my word. Gimme some love..." She kissed him and he kissed her their mouths melted together and she put a hand on his scrawny chest rubbing it and with a smile said, "You better...won't wanna miss out."

As she left, the Ethiopian American said, "Sit down. Let's start with who you are. Ah shit who am i kidding. Your accent...aint too hard to figure out who you are. You know Russians are the only white folks my dad ever trusted? I gotta say, it's a weird choice if you're gonna pick one. I know he said he had his reasons and all that but...no offense it's hard to trust a people that might be more sneaky than the ones from here. And I aint even prejudiced I just call it like I see it. I know about the KGB. History classes, I read about their taking over the city of Kabul that was some sick shit."

"Your father wants you to come see him. To go home and talk to your mother."

"See, you and him aint been in touch all these years. You don't really understand. It's not my dad I got a problem with. It's my mom. I got love for my pops mom too. That aint even the problem it's just my mom don't approve of me being with Sakura..."

"I see...how very...non communist of her."

"Yeah very funny, man. She aint the same as Kuma is. She's still Orthodox Christian you know? She raised me to be too and dad despite his stance on religion he was strangely okay with it. He was a communist...is one...but...I guess at the end of the day he sees that as part of our heritage. And I'm proud of it too it's just I was born in America too so you gotta balance it."

"I'm Ivan Azarov..."

"Oh wait you must be that mysterious dude I used to hear about. You were actually born here, right?"

"Yes, I'm surprised your father ever talked to you about these things."

"Hey, your parents shared that with you, right? On the real, I'm sorry to hear about what happened to your mom, man. But yeah they were straight up with me. I just didn't follow the family business."

"That's just the problem, Abe. I'm trying to find MY father. And yours has information on him but we've been out of contact since about two years ago. But he wants a favor for a favor. He wants you to make amends with your mother. And you don't want to because you're with that girl?"

"Look have you ever uh...sampled other flavors?"

"Yes. The mother of my child in fact."

"What, Asian, black, Latina, what?"

"Well let's just say my child looks closer to you than she does me or 'Sakura' put it that way."

The Ethiopian American smiled with a crooked grin but then his eyebrows raised and he frowned a bit. He didn't mention it to the Russian agent but he found it weird the way he pronounced Sakura's name almost as if he was implying that her name was as much of an alias as any that Ivan or Vasily or Kuma had used over the years. "So then you get it..."

"Yes...she's significantly younger than me as well. But she's had a hard life and so have i. The truth is she deserves better than me. I haven't been faithful..." Ivan didn't know why he felt the need to tell this youngster this. It felt right but it was uncharacteristic.

The youngster leaned back. "Hey I understand being a player. I've been with white girls, black girls especially my own kind of black, and Arab girls cause you know, had to pay homage to that too but i never really discovered Asian girls until I got to this ULSA. We just hit it off in English class Strangely enough describing the civil rights movement. Me and this Native American dude was talking about the civil rights movement with this older sista I was saying how you don't really hear about the Latinos in the civil rights movement but this cat was schooling me on the Brown Berets and AIM. They had shootouts with cops too. He even schooled a middle aged woman so I was intrigued. Dude was always wearing sunglasses too. Then one day he didn't and I was like what the fuck..."

"What does this have to do with her?"

"Well they had put me, this sista, the Native dude and Sakura together in a group right...and we were meant to talk about cultural differences. Sakura's not just Japanese you know she's Japanese and Chinese. But the subject was how Japanese people have a conversation as opposed to here. Basically in Japan it aint like the US where it's like a game of tennis back and forth. Everybody waits their turn like in a game of bowling. The dude found it interesting the sista didn't say shit but I had a question for Sakura since she was co signing that this is the way it is. I was like well how do you deal with say, a disagreement the way we would in the west? After class I had more questions and that was that. We been together a year now..."

He sighed. "My mom aint racist she's just traditional you know how it is. Your parents must have been the same way."

Ivan chuckled. "Actually...my mother tried to recruit this black activist... Part of the KGB is using sex as a weapon...well they fell for each other. Both my parents would sleep with people even while married. Anyway, that man did agree to help our side but he ended up being gunned down by the Capitol Police and the FIB in his own neighborhood. In a way, I think based on when she talked about him she did love him..." Ivan said looking down

"Not the same way as my father since both of them were bonded by the same trauma but still but I also think she used him. In the end, he lost his life because he joined an allegiance with our side. And she knew he was likely to. The man had grown up in the projects and he was frustrated even as an activist black power type, he was frustrated by poverty. So it wasn't that hard to sell him on another way besides capitalism."

"That's fucked up. Well like I said my mom aint like that. But see with High School and then college, I was just playing around but this is my first real relationship. She wants me to marry an Ethiopian woman but she doesn't even realize a lot of the ones I was banging it out with were as Americanized as me. Taking selfies of they ass on Life Invader and all...I had fun but it was just superficial. This is real."

Ivan leaned in. "There's a reason your father doesn't approve either. He objects to an aspect of the relationship but it's not because of Sakura's heritage. He told me as much. But he wanted to see if you'd tell me."

"I'll only tell you cause you saved his life life in the past. I came to this college straight outta high school. I started going to mosques to see what it was like. i stated attending regularly. But I was still fornicating so to speak. I guess I'm not a very good Muslim. All though I did make the deceleration of faith a few months ago. I still kept sleeping with Sakura and I'm not even saying I want her to convert. That's the good thing about it being a patriarchal religion. Most faiths even most Muslims might say it's ideal to convert her but I don't have to. I can be with a non Muslim woman it's just a Muslim woman can't be with a non Muslim man. It's expected that I'd be the ones giving our kids their spiritual education. Truth be told though, I wouldn't force it on them..."

He sighed. "And that's the ironic thing, man. I don't know where my dad's at with religion. I worry for his soul. I mean I think he might be a Christian at times but then he's communist right? How can he be? But that's whats funny. My moms opposes one thing he opposes the faith. For me. He says it might even strain our relationship hers and mine. Moms, she doesn't care like that.I guess cause Ethiopia has a lot of Muslims as well as Christians and even some traditionalists and in our family I'll be real we got all of that. Even have some second cousins that are Jews in our homeland. But it's like it's hypocritical man he's supposed to be opposed to all religion but growing up he tolerated mom taking me and Izara to church."

Ivan chuckled. "Maybe that's the same problem us KGB have with the Russian Orthodox church. We used it too when it suited our needs. Maybe hypocrisy is an Orthodox thing..." Both men laughed at that. Ivan then said, "You and me, we are able to have a conversation in public in broad daylight about communism. If this was 1980, the days my mother and father were around and even the days yours was, this would be a different story."

Abraham asked him bluntly, "So what is it you want me to do?"

"Your father is going to be at this address...he want to talk to you. Can you meet me there in two hours?"

The black man sighed. "Yeah. But no funny shit. I'll talk to him but not mama, right now. I got four hours till I gotta pick up my girl. It's not like I hate them both, just so you know. It aint like that. They just lived their lives and I want to live mine Mama can call me she has my number, man. I talk to my sister every chance I get but see she's the favorite cause she does everything right..."

"No offemnse, Abraham but you're Ethiopian."

"So?"

"So just like if she was Russian, the point is she's not the favorite. You are the son. You will always have favor. It's nothing to be ashamed of. Patriarchy doesn't have to mean oppression. It's what built most of the modern world."

It wasn't long before both of them ended up at the Markovich residence. Natasha and her father were at their usual place by the bar. Kuma was having a drink and the bartender poured one for Vasily. Kuma stood up hugging his son who hugged him back. "It's good to see you, Abraham..."

"Same here, pops. Whats this about?"

"I may have to...leave the country for a while. I have to go to Ethiopia again just maybe for a week. Possibly Russia and elsewhere too. Your sister is still watching out for her but I would feel better if you were at home as well."

"What's going on, dad? Why are you leaving?"

"It's just something that I have to do, my son. The struggle never ends. Or if it does, it will be long after I am asleep in the Earth but there is a lot of work to be done."

"Why are you trying to leave?! i mean this country is the land of opportunity! You've been staying here since the 80's. You been living there and you took the family there at least six times but come on! Let the past stay the past."

"Life started there, boy..." Warned Kuma. "Don't you ever forget just because we're the first humans does not mean we don't make mistakes. We have problems. Same as anybody some worse than others.. You've lived a comfortable life here in America, Abe. I've seen to that even despite my own views about capitalism I agree nobody should want. I did my best for you and your this country is not truly home. It is not a true nation."

"How can you say that?" Asked Abe. "I got friends in college! America IS the entire world converged in one place!"

"The reason why I am leaving does not matter. I have been allowing you to spread your wings but you are needed in Little Abyssinia."

Markovich watched with glassy eyes as the two Ethiopian men talked. "This reminds me of myself and Grisha...before I'd ever shot him or he stabbed me..." He lamented. "It would be very easy to blame him and his coke fueled choices and his stubbornness but I did not handle him right."

"Grisha was asshole..." Insisted Natasha. "He still is. It would take a lot more than what happened to make this change"

"Yes but what kind of father, what kind of businessman goes to war with his own son?"

Vasily chimed in, "This proves you are the best at what you do, droog. You don't let even family ties get in the way of business."

"Sure, but we've got new problems on the streets. Because of our alliance with the Psychos we now have inherited their enemies. Business, Vasily, should never come before family. I was angry and full of foolish pride after what Grisha did. And because of this, men on both sides have died."

Natasha nodded gulping down the Vodka on the rocks and stated, "Evgeny..he is traitor too. He is part of why Girisha does so well. We may resolve this but he should be killed."

Ivan walked out to the balcony with a sigh. The Russian brunette followed a fresh cigarette between her fingers. "What is problem?"

"I'm a new father. I've got a child. I have changed her a few times but mostly, Imani does most of the work. It's been months and that I have a child still feels like a strange."

"You have post partum depression..." The Russian female shot back. "What? I'm not a woman, Tasha..."

"No?Yet you come out here to cry like one"

"You're just a self centered bitch with no feelings. I've often been asked why I usually go for American girls over Russian...it's because I don't like the cold exterior."

"What is this really about?"

He sighed. "I talked to my sister back in 2013. It was...a shock to see her after all these years...I'll tell you the exact things that were said some other time but...seeing her face she's still young but she's middle aged. It's like so many years have gone by and they have. Twenty six years and yet it's almost as if not much time was passed at all. I see the present in her but I also see the past in her. And I remember the 80's and everything comes flooding back."

Natasha leaned next to him. "I understand. My mother...she was like my role model.. She was warm. Warn but tough. She was father's moral compass. She was able to keep Grisha doing the right things too. But when she passed..." He looked seeing sadness in her normally cold and emotionless blue eyes. "It was like the compass was broken or lost. Suddenly right was left and left was right. The war with the Petrovic Family and the Faustin family began I am...sorry for your loss. I know what it is t lose mother, too."

"I know I'll never see er again. I don't believe in an afterlife. And I wish i did even though I know it is impossible. I almost wish that even though there is not one, one could be...I don't know...created somehow anyway so I could see her again."

She took a drag on the smoke. "It's nice thought. I would like to believe my mother will be seen again but I do not know. I hope so but probably not. I have been bad person too since she has been gone. Maybe we awaken to a new reality after death but the curse I will face is I will be somewhere my mother isnt."

"That was why seeing my sister, even though she is a US politician nearly broke me in half."

"It would. You do not seem like you've had sister." Natasha stated. "Vasily seems more like a sibling to you."

"And he is. Maybe losing them like I did...or having to leave the United States again and losing my mother and father...I lost all the emotions I had."

He looked down. "I keep thinking I'll forget my mother's face and I often start to. I have pictures of her. Just three left. But the fact that I even have to look at them just to be reminded again...I am an asshole. I know this.. That's the choice all along isn't it? Remember and suffer...as all the memories come back and reopens old scabs. Or move on but forget."

"You sound like emo..not true Russian man."

"No..the emos got it from us...the truth is I don't seek death but I don't avoid it either. It surrounds me and everything I do. If I'm really successful and I manage to break my father out...it's back to business as usual. We both still have our duties. He'd have to be debriefed and then briefed again, maybe he will not want to go back to fighting for the country that did not break him out of American custody. Or he'll want to get revenge on them and that means more killing."

"Russia will not go to war with the US."

"Maybe not now but in twenty years, who knows? Vasily still believes in Communism. Me, I'm just for Russia in whatever form it takes but if we become capitalist just to beat the west we've become what we hate. Modern Russia is defined not by the Russian Federation but by the USSR. The only government that can claim to be more true to our heritage than that is the Czar and any true communist does not want to go back to that any more than a true Chinese communist wants to revive the Qing Dynasty."

"We have to do whatever it is that will help us survive. You still have to have a mind for money whether dealing with communism or capitalism. I don't know if it's true communism. I know it isn't the kind you and Vasily and my father fought for and practiced. If it was there would be no money but yet I've always been my father's accountant."

"Why?"

"Because as he said I have a near savant level of mathematics skills."

Ivan nodded. "Reminds me of somebody else I know..." He said.

Unbeknownst to the two of them, Grisha had the two of them in his sights but Ivan in his cross wanted to take the shot but he wanted to make sure that he didn't hit her. The way the wind was blowing he didn't feel comfortable pulling the trigger on the off chance he'd hit his sister.

He had a cigarette in his mouth just the same as Natasha did. "Davay, sestra, ubiraysya s dorogi!" He muttered.

(Come on, sis get the fuck outta the way!)

Finally she put her cigarette out and started back to go inside. The way she was leaning indicated she was trying to get Ivan to follow her. "I've got you..." He hissed. "Listen...Ivan...there is something you should know...I've learned a lot about you since you've known me and whether or not you are Ivan at heart or John it does not matter. Maybe they are two sides of the same coin...there is something I need to tell you..." She whispered in his ear. His eyes widened. "Are you sure?"

She nodded. "I checked to be sure."

"I don't know what to say...I mean...i can help..."

"You have your own obligations..I don't expect you..."

"How long?" He asked. "Eight weeks."

"And your father does not know?" The Russian shook her head.

Ivan started to follow her through as they talked when suddenly the glass shattered and he heard her cry out and she was bleeding. She fell as a round hit her in the right side of the chest. "NATASHA!" He cried out.

He thought she had been hit by a Sniper. The truth was, they had been having bloodshed between Boris's side and Grisha's in days past and Vasily and Boris had orchestrated a shootout that resulted in the deaths of four Grisha loyalists. "Grisha, you fucking piece of shit!" Ivan yelled. "It was me you wanted you motherfucker!"

On the other end of the scope, Grisha saw she was hit but he had not pulled the trigger at least not with the shot that hit her. He had fired but he had seen her get hit just before he pulled the trigger and Ivan had narrowly been missed. A headshot would have been lethal. The truth was his men were planning to ambush the house and he did have assassins headed there he had told them to move as soon as he fired. They were to take down Vasily and all of Boris's men and force his father to a stand still. He was still not sure if he wanted to truly commit patricide yet.

He saw that the shooter had fired at them from a downward angle from a house nearby with an M4. He spotted one of the men trying to shoot Ivan and Natasha. He was a Russian male with dark brown hair and brown eyes and a thick brown beard in his early forties. Grisha pulled the trigger with him in his cross hairs. With a burst of red, the man fell with a severed spine. Ivan, on the other hand, checked Natasha's ound. "It's a through and through! An exit wound! You'll be fine if we get you out of here!"

Grisha got on his radio. "Droogs! The Petrovic Family is making a move on the house! They must have arrived at the same time as we did! My father is the target but I do not want Natasha to die. Those Zhyd animals will not spare her! Petrovic is on the warpath! Kill all of my father's men and all of Konstantin's men!"

"What about the two chornis?"

"Them too! They are Ivan's friends."

Grisha spotted another Petrovic thug a man in his early 20's carrying an MP5. He inhaled and then exhaled with the trigger pull and the round went through the top of the man's back exiting his chest. Grisha wished he had the luxury of moving around the way a Sniper in a real war would but he didn't. He could only move a bit where he was on the balcony. He looked back through the scope of the H&K PSG 1 and saw a Cavalcade full of the rival Russian family coming up the street from the east, and they all wore baklavas and had Assault Rifles. He fired striking the driver in the left eye the round decorating his rear view mirror with his blood. The vehicle was already coming to a stop as he had shot him but all the same, it crashed into a minivan.

He then saw three of Boris's men come from the side of the house firing on the van with MP5's killing the remaining occupants. Grisha fired and struck the first Markovich goon in the side of the neck on his right and as a burst of red sprayed all over his friends, they had only seconds to figure out what was wrong before he fired on the second one firing a round through his stomach. He missed the third one just barely and the man started to panic unsure where to shoot and he tried to make his way to the cover of a dark red Blista Compact. Grisha cursed as he looked back through the scope.

The next shot nailed the man in the right ribcage. It would have to do for now even though he could see him still moving writhing in his own blood, he had to keep shooting.

Ivan only had his Handgun on him in immediate reach. "Hang on,, I'm going to get you out of here!"
He helped her through the parlor. The loyalists to Grisha, however, had already made it through. Ivan fired rapidly, six shots and he hit two of the men as they tried to get to cover he hit one in the abdomen and the other in the left thigh but the man he hit in the abdomen did not appear to have had the slugs go through. He had level three body armor on. "You come in my home?! I kill all you mardak's!" Screamed Boris as he fired his AN-94 striking down two Petrovic goons.

The first was a blonde white male with a buzz cut standing at 6'4 with a muscular build and he hit him in the right arm and the next four rounds hit the man in the right eye. He fell dead before he hit the floor and the next man was brown haired and blue eyed with a dark brown beard and he stood at 5'11 and wore a dark brown blazer and a white shirt and blue jeans in his early 20's. He hit the man in both knees. Boris then fired a headshot. Ivan yelled, "It's your son! He's shot her!"

"It can't be! He would never shoot his sister!" Denied the Russian mob boss. "I shot him in the leg so he stabbed me. This I understand! But he and Natasha have always been close! Not even Grisha would do this!"

"What are you talking about?! I have seen them! They were Grisha's guys! They've been with him before! These are some of your former men!"

"Then they will ALL PAY WITH THEIR LIVES!"

Ivan was handed an MP5 by the bartender and he took it not even bothering to put the strap around him. He sprayed fifteen rounds striking down two of Grisha's loyalists coming from the front and two more came but Kuma fired his Walther P99 striking one in the forehead, an instant kill which decorated a portrait that Boris had up of Stalin. He made his son take cover behind the bar. From one of the deceased bodyguards of Boris, the African father recovered a Glock 17 and three magazines. "All right, boy! Do you remember the training I taught you?!"

"Training...? Dad I only went to the shooting range maybe three times!"

"This still puts you ahead of most civilians! They're gunning for everybody! We must fight to protect or lives! Now on three when I say, you and me are going to come up shooting!"

"I don't know..."

"Life or death, Abraham!"

He nodded feigning bravery. "One...two...three!" They both came up and with the Glock cocked and locked, Abe joined his father in firing upon four of Grisha's men as they were trying to come around through the living room to flank Ivan, Vasily, and Boris. Kuma hit the first one behind his left ear. As the white gangster fell crashing his already bleeding skull into the front room table shattering the glass, the Ethiopian was already firing into the left side of the back of the head of another. As the third turned he took six in the chest as he tried to get to cover all the while spraying seven rounds at Kuma who ducked to cover. Kuma fired blindly and the rest of his magazine mostly missed but three did hit the man in his vest Abraham fired too trying to remember what he had been shown. He hit the target he was aiming at in the right hip and right thigh.

He fell over bleeding out. As the Petrovic goons kept coming, Ivan couldn't help but notice that Natasha had suddenly become lucid again and she fired her handgun striking two. The first she hit with five rounds with the vest protecting against the first four but the next went through. The man fell over clutching his wound as a small trail of blood oozed from the wound. Sure, the wound was actually big and the blood plentiful but this was just the way it seemed based on him wearing a vest. The second, a man in his early 30's a Caucasian with red hair and green eyes fell with two rounds in the throat and one in through his upper lip. She insisted upon walking a bit but she fell but Ivan caught her arm.

Ivan fired the MP5 disarming him and he sent two rounds through his left palm. Ivan carried the wounded woman but he wasn't sure she would be alive in five minutes. He kept her around his shoulders all the while spraying his MP5.

At the same time, Abraham looked down at the man he had shot. "I just...I took a life!" Kuma told him, "He's a mobster thug! It was either him or us. Do you see why we need to go home after this?!"

"Daddy, I will!" Abraham said with fear in his eyes suddenly very much like a little kid again rather than the adult he was. "Just keep shooting and we'll escape this!" Kuma assured him.

A goon loyal to Grisha came through the front door armed with an AK-47. Abraham stayed in cover and Kuma fired at the man but the man took cover. Three more Grisha loyalists came through and they fired striking down four of Boris Markovich's men. The first was a Russian American with dark brown hair and blue eyes and a soul patch for facial hair standing at six feet wit a black sports jacket and a red under shirt and black slack and Suede Bucks. He fell with seven 5.56 rounds in his stomach.

The second Russian fell over a blonde haired blue eyed male standing at five ten in his early forties with graying facial hair and he took five 7.62 rounds to the chin. The third was a red haired male with a thick beard and green beady eyes standing at 6'3 wearing a black leather jacket and blue jeans. He took a round from a Spas 12 in the right fourth took three rounds from the 5.56 as a Grisha loyalist fired an M4. Kuma emptied what he had left into the man with the M4. He also hit the second of the four Russians in the neck but he ran out. "It's down to you, son...you have to be brave...keep them back...and I have to find another weapon..."

"They could kill me..." The Ethiopian American's eyes wide with fear, almost seemed to beg his father not to go. "Abraham...live up to your name. A strong patriarch...and remember...courage doesn't come before action it comes after..."

The kid was confused but he did as he was told and came up firing taking a breath before he did so his father could run between cover. He hit on of the two Grisha soldiers the rounds penetrating the vest after six shots. The problem was, he was now empty and he had missed the other man who was a blonde with a mean look to him. He was the one with thee AA-12 and he was going to fire upon Abraham and blast him from cover when several rounds came at him. Only one hit, a round hit the right elbow but Boris yelled, "EVGENY!Ty, blyad', zmeya!"

(You fucking snake!)

The former soldier of Boris took cover in the doorframe. "I JUST CAME BACK TO MY HOME AND YOU BASTARDS DECIDE TO ATTACK MY HOME?! WHERE I SLEEP? WHERE MY DAUGHTER SLEEPS?! FUCK YOU!" He fired out of the window striking two Grisha loyalits outside of the house who were firing from behind a parked Baller, gray in color. Ivan made it to where Boris was carrying the wounded Natasha. "I have to get her out of here! She'll bleed out if I don't!"

The father's desire for revenge vanished in his face at least for the moment as his daughter was wounded. A Russian immigrant outside fired an AKS striking two more of Boris's soldiers up on the balcony overlooking the front as opposed to the balcony overlooking the cliff that was on the ground level of the street but overlooking houses for miles and by relation, what they could see of Los Santos. "You are the ones who have wronged us!" The Jewish American gangster screamed. "Your men raped and murdered Kenny Petrovic's last child!"

"I talked to that idiot on the phone! He says my man raped her but this cannot be! He was here in Los Santos!"

"You lie you fucking Kozzak asshole!" Just then, even as Boris's backup arrived, four of Grisha's men fell dead as an IMI Galil was fired and the Markovich goons loyal to the father were bombarded with rounds before they could park their Landstalker. Two were killed and two were too wounded to fight. A few rounds narrowly missed the Markovich family boss. "Shit! I know who that is out there. That is Avi Shapiro. One of Petrovic's favorite goons. He is ex IDF. Very deadly. If anybody would know what is going on it will be him!" One of Boris's loyal bodyguards that Ivan had seen around before and had been present when Grisha attacked the house, was firing an AK-107 at two of Grisha's loyalists hitting the first in the stomach and following up with leg shots to disable them even if they didn't die, and the other he hit with a headshot.

He was a blonde haired tall white male standing at Ivan's height with piercing blue eyes and strong Slavic features and a naturally gruff face. He was younger blood in the crew but he had a willingness to kill that earned him Boris's favor. He was in his late twenties at most and while he could speak English, Ivan knew he was a much more recent arrival than he was. "Anatoly!" Cried out Vasily addressing the Bravta member. "More of Petrovic's men! Seven o'clock!"

Anatoly aimed striking down one of the Jewish Russian gangsters from Hove Beach. He hit the man in the chest letting ten rounds saw away at the protective vest and four rounds hit the masked goon in the heart. "Petrovic is a fag!" He screamed back at them. "I had more respect even for Faustin and Rascalov than I do for that piece of shit!" He was a veteran of the war in Hove Beach after the 2008 power vaccuum left with the two aforementioned Russian mobsters dying in addition to a certain smuggler mob boss who ran the trade in the Adriatic an even when Petrovic had no longer been in town and he was just a young man coming up as a gunman, he had held the line against Kenny. He had killed at least five of Kenny's men back in Hove Beach and had been shot at many times but never hit. He and his brother had also done time in a Siberian prison before.

Ivan fired taking out more of Grisha's goons and between being ambushed from the Israeli hitman's nest and the return fire from the house, it was becoming too costly for Grisha an his men to advance any further. Just then even as his son's men were retreating and taking what wounded they could, three Molotov cocktails went through the windows. "SHIT! These fucking barbarians!" Screamed Vasily as he fired an AK-101 out the was at least six more Petrovic thugs besides the Isreali. One of them had his MP5 shot out from his hands as Vasily hit the weapon and the man took four rounds in the vest but he went for his Glock and fell over firing rounds. Two hit Vasily in the vest and one struck Natasha in the left leg. She cried out bleeding, though still conscious.

Ivan screamed firing back and he struck the goon, a curly haired brown haired blue eyed man with a thick beard and a tattoo on his left arm of a card with clubs on it. He struck the man's tattoo blowing it of. Ivan soon ran dry for his weapon and in a rage he snatched the bleeding man up forcing him to his feet. He took his MP5 from him and growled, "You want to shoot somebody, asshole?! How about you be a shield for a while!" He came out firing at the remaining five and wounded one with shots to the right leg but the rounds came at him shredding up their comrade pretty fast. Kuma had found another weapon, a dropped Franchi 12 and he fired out the window and the defenders had to exit the house as the smoke was getting too much. Natasha was alive but had lost consciousness.

"She's hit bad, Boris!" Vasily warned. "We must get her out of here, now!" They loaded the unconscious woman into the back of a red Emperor and Ivan took his belt off tying her leg off. He kept pressure on the wound, his heart racing as her thigh wound bled. "She's losing too much blood!"Kuma cried as he and Abraham got into the car. Grisha floored it but several rounds hit the front windshield and narrowly missed them and hit the back windshield.

Shapiro stood in the street in a nearby driveway firing at them with a full magazine. The mob boss swerved to avoid the rounds. He wanted to run the man over but to get any closer ran the risk of being hit. Just then, they heard the screeching of tires and the Isreali went flying. His training both with firearms and hand to hand had been rendered useless once he was run over.

The man lay in the street having been sent flying fifteen feet. A Landstalker's windshield was totaled and the Isreali had a compound fracture in his right leg. Out of the vehicle climbed Tavit, Mardak, Daniel and Israel. The Armenian Pride gang members yelled, "We got a call from one of your men things were going bad! We got here as fast as we could!" The Armenian patriarch cried.

Boris shot back, "My daughter is critically wounded I must go if I want to save her! If you want to help me, get that filthy Isreali and take him to my warehouse! We need to get information out of him!"

Mardak, the eldest of Tavit's sons replied, "Consider it done!"

Boris took off to head to Mount Zonah while a white Cavalcade pulled up with two Bravta members including Grisha who now had an AK-47 aimed out of the window. "What happened to my sister?!" He demanded. Israel, the youngest, recognized him. The Armenian American growled, "Hey, dog you got some nerve coming around here, man! The way you betrayed your pops like that?"

He had an Uzi in hand and Daniel had a Mac-10 that neither of them had used tonight but both brothers were feeling itchy on the trigger finger. "We are friends of Boris Markovich. We will gladly kill you for him another time if he wants us to. And he doesn't want to kill you but if you have any respect for your sister, you will fuck off. Your sister has been wounded By Petrovic's men. On the way here, our friends on Boris's side told us they think you did it. After all you too a shot at them on the deck."

"No...I took a shot at Baba Yaga. Only hi!m I would never shoot my own sister. I want to kill Kenny Petrovic as much as you do! There's support for me by some Americans out in Liberty City. You should join the side that is going to win."

"You know...if any of my own son had done to me what you did to your father..they would be dead...we are going to ensure that they are safe but the next time we see you we won't be having a conversation."

Meanwhile, as Ivan drove, he told Vasily and Boris in a panic, "She's pregnant...did she tell any of you?"

Boris stared at him in shock and anger. "No..."

Vasily drove as Ivan and Boris kept pressure on her wounds. "Its mine...if you want to kill me later, you can. But we should make sure Grisha dies first!"

"This is not something Grisha would do!" Boris stated. "Even he is not this evil!" He then growled, "Is is Petrovic. He is blaming us for something he thinks Dmitri did. But I know Dmitri. He did not do what he thinks."

"Dmitri Rascalov?"

"No you idiot that man has been dead seven years! I am talking about Dmitri from our crew you haven't seen him before?!" He applied more pressure on the wound and Ivan tightened the tourniquet. He sighed as he realized the tourniquet was from one of Sugar's violet bandannas but he hadn't seen her in a flag in a while. He forgot he had it and didn't remember why he did.

"No..."

"He must not have been around when you were then..." He then called to Vasily, "Step on it! We must save her life!"

They were almost to the hospital. "You and I are going to talk about this later, Baba Yaga! But for now we must save her life."

"What about the cops? They'll have questions. Bodies dropped in a rich area, burned down house...again...even after the repair..."

"There will be an investigation but I know which palms to grease...even if I have to pay every fucking single cop that investigates personally. If they make trouble they will die..."

"You've been in America longer than me, Boris and you still don't seem to know that's not how this country works! You're ex KGB. You should know!"

"I will bend the rules as I see fit"

They got her to the ER. They got her into a stretcher after screaming at the hospital staff. Just then, Ivan got a call. It was from Sugar. He picked up, "This isn't a good time..." He started to say. "IVAN! THEY'RE TRYING TO KILL ME"

"Who?!"

"There's Russian mobsters after me. Me and the baby are at the neighbors but they're going door to door. I got a Handgun but they've got automatics!"

Ivan said, "I'll be right there! Just be careful keep her safe until then use that thing only if you have to!"

He told Boris, "I've got to go! The Petrovic Family has targeted Sugar they're at our apartment building"

Boris's eyes widened and Vasily said, "Go! We'll handle this!"

Ivan carjacked a man in a red Cheetah and sped down the street without so much as a thought not caring about the APB he would likely have on him soon even after he got rid of it but this was an emergency. He didn't care.

He got to the apartment in just over five minutes. He heard gunfire. "Shit!" He hauled ass up the stairs with nothing but his own Handgun in hand and he saw two dead bodies in the hallway but neither of them were Sugar, it was a white couple.

He made his way to their floor and he saw a deceased Bravta member laying in the hallway and four more Bravta soldiers kicking a door in and spraying the apartment down with Uzi's

He ran forward striking the last one through the door with five shots in the side. Most did not go through the vest he had on but the last one did. Inside, the neighbor, a rich Eurasian lady with glasses was mowed down by stray rounds intended for Sugar and their daughter. Sugar had struggled at the door with one of the gunmen and had shot him but now she had to take cover with the baby in one hand and her firearm in the other and she ducked in cover behind the bed.

Ivan fired a head shot at the next man, a Russian wearing a brown leather jacket and black pants with shaggy blonde hair. "MOTHERFUCKER!" Ivan screamed and as they turned their attention on him, he dropped the next, a man with Eurasian features in a black suit with a shot to the nose and the next man a Jewish Russian with reddish brown hair and brown eyes standing at six feet in an onyx jacket and black slacks tried to shoot Ivan but he took a round in the left eye.

Ivan ran to his family embracing them both. "Ivan, what's going on?!" She cried in tears her gun hand shaking. "There's no time to explain we have to get out of here now! We'll take the fire exit."

They did just that sure enough just as five more Bravta soldiers had come through the front of the building and were going to make sure the job was done. Or perhaps, they'd just heard the gunshots and were a stand by crew. Either way Ivan got down first. "Hand me her..." He told Sugar. "Come on, Imani! Now is not the time to panic!" She did as she was told and he dropped down as softly and gracefully as he could but luckily his tall frame made sure that wasn't a problem either way and since he was already on the ground it didn't make a difference.

He then helped her down next. They got into the stolen car. "That's our home! Where do we go?!" She cried out. "I don't know...maybe Sandy Shores...maybe Davis where their soldiers won't come for us. We'll play it by ear..."

New Arcadia Parish Jail.

October 28, 2015.

Neto had on his orange jumpsuit. It was a shit hole for sure. While it wasn''t worse than the pen he had been to in Arizona, it was worse than any county jail he'd seen. For one thing, as he expected, a lack of primary colors. The brown population was minimal. He knew it wasn't going to be easy.

They brought him to the chow hall where a black male with a shaved head was serving food. Neto's sponsor was a Vago from Lincoln Parish who had been busted for possession in East New Arcadia. His name was Beans. His real name was Johnny Santana but he was only twenty four and it felt weird to Neto talking to a man younger than him.

"Tenemos que tener mucho cuidado aquí, hombre. Los morenos llevan las cosas aquí."

(We have to be very careful in here, man. The morenos run things in here.)

"No corren mierda sino sus labios carnosos."

(They don't run shit but their bumper lips.)

"This aint Los Santos, man. This aint Arizona either. it aint nothing like what you're accustomed to."

"Yeah well you'd be surprised what I could get accustomed to, ese. I went to a Marero jail in Mexico. In El Salvador? They'd have never housed us together cause Marabunta would have torn me apart. Trust me...being Mexican down there didn't mean shit. It was Azteca or Marabunta."

He noticed that they gave out food by the showers. The showers were dirty with mush from old food spilled inside and nobody cleaned it up. There was a black male standing at 5'11 serving up food. "Fuck, man...I think you're right..." Neto said swallowing. "Back west I never had to have one of them touching my food..."

"It aint just that. It's the fact that they're serving it by the showers, homes. No gloves no hairnet...shit is foul. No dryer no washing machine we do shit by hand..."

"Well that part I'm used to..." Neto said. Just then, Neto felt a sharp pain in his chest. In a flash of speed a black hand shot out at him and Neto felt blunt force to his head as he fell. Beans tackled the man and wrestled him to the ground. "Fuckin beaner!" Screamed the man.

As Beans assaulted the other guy, several black inmates rushed him. Luckily there was five other brown inmates in line who also dog piled but they were greatly outnumbered. Neto was beneath a sea of bodies trying to see through the blood running down his face. When the screws finally pulled him outta there to take him to the infirmary he was in disbelief he was even alive.

One Week Later

Beans came to visit him in the hospital. Luckily, he worked in the ward. "Do you see what I mean wey?" He demanded. "They run shit here, man. We can defend ourselves a little but not really."

"Hijole... All the Raza that lives here...all seventeen of them..." He said with exaggeration about the state. "Why live in a place like this? There's a lot of other cities in America where gente can go and get a job. New Arcadia isn't our one golden ticket. We got other southern states where there's more of us. Georgia, Florida, North Carolina,...shit man...anything."

"I don't know. Maybe we're just as stubborn as anybody else here. See it as home. Like them guys that didn't wanna leave even when Katherine happened."

"Yeah...you motherfuckers...and the rednecks up in the Midwest staying in tornado country..."

"You say that like Eartguakes aint happening in San Andreas. Ya'll are fucked up in your own way."

"Try again, pues. I'm from Yucatan and Chiapas. We see those tropical storms all the time there too. Been dealing with it for thousands of years but San Andreas? When the earthquakes are bad they're really bad but the really big ones are a lot more rare than you think. But out here you got hurricanes every year! You get tornadoes every year. So let's see. What would I rather take. The big bad thing that could maybe happen every now and then kinda like a volcano eruption or the yearly tornado and hurricanes? You can do more to protect yourself from a quake than a hurricane. I've been in both! I was here when this shit happened. Somehow...they were less prepared for it than we were in Mexico, man. It was weird."

"Yeah well..you still see how different shit is? We got guys repping South Side but there's only about fifteen of us, dog. Not many."

"There was only a handful of vatos in the original Onda too."

"You're not them though. You got it easier there. Even a San Andrean vato in the 50's...I'd still rather take my chances being around back then than here and now..." Beans admited.

"What about the other Chicanos?"

"The ones that don't bang? Can't do shit for em. I mean they get turned out by the morenos like crazy. It's a delicate balance with them. I make sure I don't end up nobodies bitch right and none of our boys but that only happens if they got a few brown faces to well...take one for the team."

"Fuck, that's dishonorable!"

"It's their ass or mine. We do what we can. Right now we can't do shit. I'm still waiting on my own court date..." Beans said. "Besides, you don't let anybody join once they've been made bitches either."

"So how are we gonna hit back? I aint taking this shit laying down. As a matter of fact...I want you to get word out. Even before I was Onda i was dangerous. Still am. A Sicario for the Sinaloa cartel is a lot worse than somebody in Onda, homes. For one thing...Sinaloans? They got a foothold in Carcer City."

"You're on the outs with them, though."

"Still. My reputation still stands. I'm a bad enemy to have but a better friend. I want you to put the word out. The motherfucker that did this shit to me. I want him followed. Somebody who aint Raza so it can't be traced back."

"That's a tall order..."

"You'll do it. I might be from out of state. So maybe in here you're the man. But just because they haven't done this to you yet doesn't mean they won't tomorrow."

Two Days Later

His wound had healed up and he was released back to gen pop. Before like him and Beans were in the chow line. "Look at this shit..."Neto said with disgust. "They don't even got gloves or hairnets and they're serving us next to the showers. Fuck man. Now I don't wanna eat or shower and I'm a clean man usually..."

"You wanna fight you're gonna have to eat. Food gives you energy."

As they moved forward in the line Neto asked, "Did you do what I asked?" He whispered. "Si. We outsourced to Vietnam. East..."l

Neto knew he really meant East New Arcadia. "Yeah? How'd you manage that? They hate me out there. I aint saying they're wrong for it. They got their reasons. Me hice los chinos sucios. Era un medio para un fin."

"They didn't know it was regarding you. Truth is, I don't know that their own el mero mero would be okay with it. It was more of a thing with their younger homies looking to make a little something extra. Plus they got no pedo with that particular guy..somehow...they probably hate him being what he is but personally? Nah. Todo lo que es es un poco de espionaje inofensivo."

(All it is is a little harmless spying.)

"Firme..." They got served their food and Neto tried to hide his disgust. The black man serving hi told him, "Oh you gonna eat your highness. Cause if not them po-lice are gonna discipline your ass for not eating. This aint Burger Shot."

Neto nodded. "Compliments to the chef!" He said with his voice dripping with sarcasm. Beans introduced him to a few others two of them were Aztecas, one was Marabunta and another was a Vago from the mostly Honduran area of New Arcadia that had been lost in the war with the Romans. His gang no longer ran things but he had refused to move out and the demographics were still the same even if the area was ruled by an iron black fist.

The Vago was named Quicks but his real name was Jacob Fuentes. He was part white from his father and aged twenty three. He wanted out of the city of New Arcadia once and for all. His mother was Honduran and Mexican. He had a short buzz cut hairtyle and stood 5'7. The two Aztecas were Esteban Reyes AKA Reyes Grande, and Rico "Cyclone" Avilez. Reyes Grande, a Salvadoran born nineteen year old who had become a citizen at the age of ten. He had come of age gang wise, these last two years as he had been present for the gang war with the Roman Family. He was in for murder. A murder he hadn't done. He had actually shot six people during the fights for the barrios of New Arcadia, gangsters from various wards. A veterano of the battles of the Rose District and Irish Point. The irony was each member he had hot, even unbeknowst to him, was one from each ward one through six.

He also had taken two bullets himself that day in the right shoulder.

Cyclone was Honduran, seventeen years old, born in the city, but who spent a lot of time in Lincoln, had only been looking at a posesssion charge but as he was a first time offender, he had looked to establish he was no punk. He had in fact joined the gang in here. He was five foot five but quick. An adult had tried to take his shoes and he had stabbed the man in the neck and was now looking at attempted murder.

The Marabunta member was also Salvadoran, Ralph Caldron AKA Ralpy, a twenty year old standing at six feet tall with light brown skin and a light brown soul patch and mustache and shaggy black hair. He had in fact stabbed a class mate the day of his high school graduation not even five minutes after getting his diploma. A gun had in fact, fallen to the floor and it was disputed as to whose gun it was. He had stabbed the gang member, a man that he suspected was either a Spanish Lord or an Azteca. The gun, Ralphy insisted, had belonged to the other man. His murder trial was still going on. "Tell me something...why two years? Don't you got the right to a speedy trial? I did some time in an Arizona pinta and they locked me up pretty fast. Didn't give a shit I was illegal either..." Neto stated.

"Yeah, that doesn't matter..." The Salvadoran youth said leaning against the cell bars watching some black inmates from a cell across and left of them. "When it's a 187, ese? You want to take as much time as you need to get up all the evidence. Either way you slice it homes, I'm either looking at second degree murder or I'm looking at the slim chance I get off on self defense. Except even if I get off on self defense, I still carried a weapon in school so I gotta do time for that."

He then looked at Neto. "Tu sabes...I think we need to give you a better name. That Santa Muerte shit? That's gay."

"The fuck you say?" Demanded Neto. The Salvadoran raised his eyebrows. "I said it's faggy, man. Want me to say it a third time? See the vato i stabbed? I aint sure if he's a Lord or Azteca. My instinct says Lord cause he was a ugly Puerto Rican bug but I know how you Aztecas get down. Even out west. Onda says you can't have morenos in your shit, bueno. And there aint many Ricans here but I could see you fools using the Hispanic loophole."

"I got on armor and a helmet?" Demanded Neto. "Que?" Asked Ralphy. "Do I got on a helmet and armor? Want me to ask again?"

"Cool out, homie..." Beans said. "I aint no fuckin Hispanic, vato. Maybe you mestizo cabrones still think you are cause you're mixed with their marrano sangre but not me."

"Yeah well you're in America, fool. Don't matter what you say to them you as Latin as the Lords."

"Chale. That's bitch shit letting another man tell you what you are. I'll break anybody's teeth that tries to tell me who I am. Fuck changing their minds even I'l just make their head hurt."

Cyclone shook his head. "And you got yours hurt."

"Enough, man...look we got your back against them fools that jumped you okay? But beyond that there aint much we can do. I mean you wanna do some crazy shit in here you need to cover our tracks and ours, man. I called in that favor for you. I can still have that chino follow that puerco. But beyond that fucking him up I can't do it. None of us got that kinda pull in here not with outsiders and the way New Arcadia is we aint got much balls on the streets."

"Fuck how can you guys even call yourselves southsiders? You should all be Lords. At least in this city I'd get it more than New Austin. But Azteca, even Marabunta, man. I grew up hating them but I got more respect for them in my hometown than here."

Beans stated, "They got us in our own unit, man. That's gotta count for something."

"Not really..." Sighed the Mexican and Honduran gang member. "They just gave us our own unit for Spanish speakers. You were probably wondering what that Moreno was getting mad dogged for. He's Cubano and he's a Lord. But he still is cool with the regular ones too..."

"Homie what was your placa?" Demanded the Salvadoran gang member again. "You want any help of ours, I want to follow somebody with a placa with balls. Not this Santa Muerte shit. Besides, I aint Mexican, you aint with the Madrazo cartel no more, and besides if you really are Mayan that's going against the beliefs anyway declaring a man a god. or Aztec beliefs."

The gang members agreed. "Besides you want a low profile in here anyway as long as you are in here. Can't be telling fuckers you're Santa Muerte. They'll stab you up at lights out for sure."

"Serio, man. What did they call you in Arizona? Or better yet what was your placa when you were just an Azteca? Not a sicario? We gotta call you something up in here, man. That cartel shit is dead. The Madrazos want your head on a platter anyway they get wind you're here you think they can't get one of these grimy tintos to do that?"

Neto growled, "Fine...in Arizona...they called me fuckin Sharky, man. Don't ask why. In Tapachula...mi placa was El Tarado..."

"Shit, man both of those are pretty firme..." Stated Ralphy. "We'll help you get back at these punks but the way shit works in here we gotta be a lot more careful. One of the fools that hit you is a straight up tecato. He likes to get high and fight. They call him Frizz cause his hair is even nappier than most of them. You want to take him out you just need a good way to get high. Or better yet, you have to come up with a way to get him high. I'll make it happen. I've the one that cuts hair in here too so I can also cut these fuckers throats."

"Nah, I got a better idea..." Reyes Grande said, "At least for the guy that hit Neto in the head there's a way you could get him without making yourself suspect. You know martial arts right? I mean you are ex military down there."

"I know a bit more than what they teach there in the Army but..." He wanted to say he was off his game when they had jumped him. "I know some Mayan shit. What did you have in mind?" The Salvadoran whispered into his ear Beans also nodded saying, ""We'll all help you but only you should know the details for each of us that way we all got some deniability. We won't know each other's jobs."

Cyclone stated, "I can make three of those fuckers vanish if you got enough feria..."

"How much feria?"

"Like $1500 each if I'm being honest..."

"Shit...all right but it better work."

"Yeah, it will bro. We're playing by the art of war on this one. You Onda vatos read that a lot, right?"

"Yeah."

He then leaned in towards Ralphy. "All right,I got an idea about what we can do to take out Frizz. When's his next haircut?"

"He usually comes in for a touch up and a shave. I can't be in the habit of slitting their throats though or these black fools will stab me up and they run these walls. Either that or I'd still lose my job in here and be brought up on other charges."

Neto inside was kicking himself. It was about what he'd expect in a New Arcadian jail for what passed for soldados but it was nothing compared to the Onda members not only in San Andreas but also Arizona. Or the other prison gangs for that matter. While Neto hated the idea of rotting away in the SSHU of a prison, what he did prefer about prison gangs over street gangs as that they killed without much regard for the consequences. They were the elites but New Arcadia only had soldiers and no generals. Discount soldiers at that. If these rankers were anybody, they were like the National Guard rather than Marines or Army but shitty backup beat no backup.

Then a thought crossed his mind. Subtle was better in here anyway. Mayates't good at figuring out subtle shit. They were all about war of attrition and not wars of manuever.

He said, "Orale, guanaco...I got an idea for you..."

The next day, he had mixed up what they needed after calling in some favors and he made sure the guards got paid off. The first guard was Mexican American born in Georgia of all places who despised gangs but all the same, he made shit pay. He had a handle bar mustache and light brown skin and stood five nine. He had a shaggy haircut as well. His name was George Ramirez. The next guard was a Honduran guard with medium brown skin and he had a buzz cut hairstyle and was clean shaven and stood at 5'5 and his name was Felipe Campos. He had grown up in the city. Last was Warrick Belflour, a white male officer in his late thirties who had worked eight years for the NAPD but he had been a little too rough with some of the Ballas from the 17th ward so he had lost his job and not many security companies would hire him, no other police department had. The prison and jail industry was more open. He had even gotten offers to work at Sudan but he didn't want to work that far away from the city.

The three gang members that had assaulted Neto was 22 year old Jeremiah Torrance from the 9th ward, in for suspected robbery, next was 25 year old Henry Cloutier from the 4th ward, suspected of two rapes, and Carlos Pino, a black male who was the son of a Cuban national for a father a mullato man and his mother was from the 6th ward but he was from the 17th ward. He was suspected of stabbing a Baller over a dice game. Though he idetified more with his African American identity than his Afro Cubano, he spoke fluent Spanish and had been put with the brown unit despite being black due to his heritage but he still sided with the blacks in fights.

Neto spotted the man who had hit him. "Hey...I got a proposition for you..."

"Bitch get your taco eating ass outta here before I finish the job..." The man warned.

"That's what I was thinking...see...I want to die...I'm a church going man though so I can't kill myself. I was hoping you would."

Him and his friends laughed at that. "I'm serious."

He held a wad of money that he had gotten past the guards. "$500 if you kill me and make it look like a suicide, homes...I feel bad..." The gang member eyed him. "What? For what?"

"I burned down a church. That's a house of God.I made a mistake...in the midst of commiting crime I onyl cared about killing the enemy...I didn't think about what I was doing...hitting a church on Sunday...what's wrong with me?"

The racist gang member sneered, "Well you Messicans be getting shit wrong with what God wants anyway. Not only being Catholic, the church that's Satan's church but you also be mixing up that cartel shit with your saints and all that. So most of ya'll going to hell. The only ones that aint is that little ass protestant population you got going there."

Neto thought to himself, Not that I actually believe that bullshit but if we are going to hell for that, so are Haitians, a good amount of New Arcadian Creoles, virtually every black person in Latin America and a large chunk of Africa.

"I know..I've been reading the bible in here, man. Ive seen the error of my ways but I can only be redeemed through death. You guys are smart. And resourceful. You got me. That shows you are! All I ask is that you kill me."

The gang member crossed his arms. "I aint buying that. Why you really wanna die, man? If you want me to do it, I needa better reason that. Otherwise I'll just beat yo ass and take your money but you won't die. We might just make you our bitch."

"All right..." Neto said. "If you know anything about me and who I am as Santa Muerte.l..and my thing with the Zapatistas...you would know I had a son. And a woman. But she was killed. Because of the shit I was involved in with the Madrazo cartel. My past came to bite me in the ass...she and my son Emilio..." His eyes saddened and he was acting but he also wasn't. "They were killed because of shit I did not only cause of the shit I did with the cartel but also when I betrayed them and worked for the Zapatistas...I got a lot of people killed."

"Hold up, man you aint even get busted for all that shit with the church. You confessing to me now? Why? All you up in here foh is that gun and powder Sawyer found on you. If you wanna die why not just confess to that? They'd be happy to grease your nacho chips, dog!"

Neto sighed. "Because that shit wasn't mine. And a trial would waste people's time and money. Including your family who pays taxes. It's like you said...I aint from this country. I snuck in illegally and I disrespected all the Raza that came legally. I've done a lot f things I need to attone for. If you kill me here soon, nobody loses money but me."

"Now get on your hands and knees..." The gang member sneered as his homies laughed. Neto did but thought to himself, If this shit goes where it looks like, I may have to go loud with taking them out.

"Look in my eyes, man..." Neto said. "I'm not gonna blow you...but look in my eyes...do I look like I want to live?"

His eyes were dark and haunted. The gangster said, "All right motherfucka get up off the floor you embarrassing yourself. We gonna take care of it. But tomorrow. I need some time to get that thang."

Neto gave him half of the money. "Half now half when its time then..."

"Yo fuck that, you should take him out and all that paper!" Protested another. "Nah we good..." Sneered the gangster. "I aint have five hundy this morning or two fifty. You got yourself a deal, Jose..."

Neto left that cell and yet he was beckoned to by the same OG that had been serving up the food. "So you got a death wish, youngin?"

"That's between me and him. Roll your windows up..." Neto said with a growl. "And keep them up."

"You now I know your type and how you think. But the truth is you won't get of kind of justice in here. You in here by the same man that put me in here. But word is you been saying you were set up. And that got me to thinking."

"Don't do that. You'll hurt yourself."

"Shut up. You wanna learn something?" Neto was silent "Good. Now everybody up in here says they were set up. And yeah you got a reputation around these parts now. But somehow, I don't see a man who went from being a cartel hotshot getting busted with drugs and a gun. You had to have had a clean car and Sawyer did that shit to you. I only say that because I know that the man he really work for plays dirty that way,."

"Oh so you think you know who he works for?"

"I'm from these streets. That boy is playing with fire getting in bed with the pigs. He's making it unsafe to be in the game. This city needs to be chaotic. He's trying to make it something it aint. Maybe I could have seen getting the wards together but that wasn't his idea. That was Joe. What that BOY is doing, is using the cops. All these gangsters that end up working with the cops even if they not already rats, they end up ratting. And he has ratted before. If this city had any balls like we did five years ago, we'd have had his ass clipped. But back in those days that boy wasn't running shit. He just came back and took over and the city let him. Makes me sick."

"Who the fuck are you?" Demanded Neto.

"They call me Stamps. Used to sell foodstamps back in the 90's. That was a long time ago but it was my first offense. Now don't get me wrong. I don't respect the gang you come from. Maybe the Aztecas aint so bad but I know ya'll been the same as Vagos for a long time. But that's still fair game on the streets. We're each other's enemy but the police is too. You really want to get some justice for yourself? You gotta take the man that put you in here down. I can tell you about some of the people who did it. See he's got me on charges for a bank robbery. Take wasn't even that much I aint get the vault open just the drawers. But he was the one that caught me. It was a legitimate collar but I've seen him do dirty ones. What you got to understand is you aint his only victim..."

"What ward you from?" Asked Neto. "Second ward. Truth is I'll probably be dead or locked away forever soon. Looking at a third strike with my trial I played the game long as I could. I aint friends with that nigga's daddy but I respected him enough in that he respect the game. He didn't do no dealing with no punk ass police. I had sons. All three of em dead and gone. Lost to these streets and the this boy...he done fucked up."

"He's tataking a hand out of our playbook, old man. Thinking outside the box. It' what we did on the west coast aginst your kind. He could start his own BGA out here if he wanted but he doesn't care about it."

"Well now...if I tell you what I know before I aint alive to speak it myself...you gonna use it? It'll mean if you get outta here you have to do something to him."

"Sure, you can say it. But then again, maybe we should both keep our hands clean of this..."

He told him everything.

New Arcadia

Mark The "Grizz" was He had two more people with him. The rival woman who represented the Raza council in the city was giving a speech denouncing her hate speech as being like that of Jock was five minutes into a speech about how immigrants built this country and stated that while unwilling, Mariah's ancestors had been immigrants too. She pointed out that even when you factored in slavery, slavery was mostly on the eastern seaboard and some southern states further inland but that the western cast and even the western half f the Midwest including states from the prairies and the southern plains, were still places that had not been port cities so she reasoned that by this logic they too as freedmen venturing west had been that just because many Vietnamese immigrants came to New Arcadia didn't mean they just became native or naturalized?

She pointed out that maria potentially alienate anybody who was both Chicana and black. She was then moving on to say that it is possible to have been born elsewhere and become a citizen. She argued that there were children of US citizens born overseas in places like Germany and she reasoned that if women like her were to be labeled anchor babies or anything else, how then wouldn't the parents of a military brat born in Germany technically be anchor parents even if they did later give their children US citizenship?

Mark was just out of the line of sight for any of the cameras and he had a dark red hoodie on and he had it up. He put a black bandanna over his face and before long, he was in front of the camera with his back to it. He clutched in one hand, a .22 pistol, in the other, a Glock 17. He had been ordered to kill her He didn't know why and neither did the two Ballas who had every tattoo covered up. Mark had been given reconstructive surgery as well to look somewhat different, like a person from the city who looked just enough like him but not an exact match. Ivan had searched for somebody to fit this match for months. The man was a known junkie often with no recollection of where he had been or what he had done a night before.

Clutching the two pistol, heart pounding and palms sweating, Grizz yelled out, "Fuck you, bitch!" He yelled in his best Louisiana accent that Ivan had made him practice two days in a row. "This is for what you motherfuckas did to Mariah!" He screamed both guns already in the air firing a round from each The first .22 round missed but a glock round struck the politician in the right thigh. Mark heard his accent and it sounded natural to him.

He'd talked to others in the state and many thought he came from Mississippi and he said he lived near the border of the two states. The next .22 round struck her in the left arm and the Mexican American woman screamed. A third round hit her left hip. A fourth round went through her right palm. "BLACK POWER!" He yelled.

Just then as the other crowd members ran and screamed, one member of the crowd, Andrew Tran, a Vietnamese immigrant worker and immigrant rights activist who'd had at least three death threats from his bosses in the past plus two more bosses who had threatened him when he'd organized for Vietnamese immigrant rights as well as Mexican and Hondurans, grabbed Grizz trying to stop him.

G Bone stepped forward and fired his 10mm Handgun into the back of the man's head. He never saw it woman's bodyguards got in the way as the rounds kept coming and the man took five in the back. Guards were coming to get them so Grizz and G Bone and Janea made their way back through the crowd to where the running black Cavalcade waited where a local driver whom they had threatened and blackmailed into doing what they said.

They got up the street. G Bone yelled, "FLOOR THIS MOTHERFUCKER!" The New Arcadian driver cried out, "BRAH YOU LS NIGGAS ARE INSANE! I THOUGHT ALL YA'LL GAVE A SHIT ABOUT WAS LAYING ON BEACHES AND CRUISING VINEWOOD! THIS AINT THE 90'S!" G Bone put the pistol to the back of the seat. "Nigga, if you don't raise up i'm popping five of these through the motherfuckin seat and I don't think you wanna SEE if this seat can hold up against a 10mm."

He did as he was told and the gunshots came cracking at him from bodyguards and police officers. The back windshield was hit and they ducked down but G Bone and Janea fired blindly back out the windows. They tore towards Brandy street with everybody but the driver masked up for obvious reasons as for when he was parked. Even when they'd arrived on the scene where they had any cameras on them they'd had bandannas over their faces.

"So did ya'll really do it?"

"Yeah, she should be dead. Getting hit with a Glock 9 and some .22 shells she aint walking away from that..." Mark stated sighing. "What the fuck you have to go and shoot that one dude in the crowd for, blood?!" Demanded Mark. angrily glaring back at G Bone. "Look, it was a spur of the moment thing, dog. Sometimes i do shit without really thinking it through. What you want me to do let that bitch take your strap?"

"You could have knocked him out, Bone..." Janea said. The New Arcadian drug dealer, a resident of the 4th ward, Jermaine Montclair who had light brown skin and springy curly hair and wore a silver jacket over a New Arcadian Sinners t shirt and baggy blue jeans demanded, "Why did ya'll use me? What the fuck's that about?" He demanded. "You trying to set me up?"

"I'll admit we were using you..." Stated Mark. "But we don't need to kill you. The reason we even snatched you up for this is let's just say we know about your Bleets and Lifeinvader posts. We know you hated that woman as much as us..."

"Man, i aint racist! Look Joe and Cheddar and them niggas they racist but I aint i'm only saying i don't like how that bitch thinks she should get special rights is all. The majority of this city should get the rights"

"What about the majority of this country?" Asked Mark. "It's mostly white. Should they stay having more rights than anybody else?"

"I aint say all that but look I thought ya'll LS niggas hated them out there!"

"Many do. I hate the gang members on their side but the civilians don't matter either way. But I'm also old enough to remember not only when black and brown started really coming down on each other but I also remember when the worst threat to a black man was another black man. Fact is that day hasn't passed. I wish it did but it aint. Not in LS and not down here."

They had five police cars on their asses and rounds came crashing into the car from every direction. Mark, Janea and G Bone returned fire. "Fuck the twelve!" Screamed G Bone trying to impersonate southern slang for them rather than west coast terms like one time. He aimed an Uzi out the window and fired striking two officers, one a Honduran woman the other a black male. He struck the black man in the right arm and two rounds hit his armpit and he hit the woman with four rounds in the cheest two of which went through.

"No nuts no glory!" Cried Mark. He fired an M4 out the window. They tore down a side street down a back alley and the cops skidded to a halt. The driver drove straight for a crowd of people and they ran screaming and dodging to get out of the way. Mark took a round in the left arm and cried out as he was letting off twenty rounds at a squad car. They tour up the street driving in the direction of where the 2nd ward would be and before long they were out there.

Mark took the bandanna off his face and used it to bind his wound. He looked enough like the junkie who he was made to look like that it would be easy to frame said junkie. The only problem was, Mark was a bit heavier than he. They needed to shake the cops first as well. A helicopter was on its way and was coming through the French Quarters but Grizz saw they still had a single car trying to keep up.

The driver was a dark skinned black male aged forty who stood six four while his partner was a scrawny white male in his early thirties with blonde hair in more of a businessman style pompadour. "We've got four suspects headed east on South Cannon Drive! Three black males one black female!" The driver screamed into the radio. His partner was fiirng at them with an M3. Mark let off five rounds from his pistol and three hit him but he couldn't tell if it was an injury.

G Bone had a different plan. He tossed a smoke grenade through the window causing the older cop to swerve as the smoke got all over them. They swerved crashing into a city bus. N.O.O.S.E would soon be on their way. They got some distance up the road but Grizz could see them coming. They needed a new ride. Grizz told the driver, "We aint here to kill ya but your own survival is up to you..."

With that he hit the man twice in the groin with the butt of his handgun and the guy cried out in pain screaming and cursing just as G Bone and Janea got out and car jacked a white male of English and French ancestry and pulled him out. Mark got in the back of the truck as they were speeding tossed the handgun to the driver who was not wearing gloves. The driver despite his pain caught it and just as the N.O.O.S.E agents were getting out and coming up with Rifles ready he fired two shots at the truck.

On the side of the N.O.O.S.E vehicle was their slogan. Obey the law. Or it's the Noose for you.Even though this was their slogan in every city and every state they were in, Grizz couldn't help but think, How fitting for the south.

"PUT IT DOWN!" Screamed the N.O.O.S.E agents and he had been distracted with getting revenge on the ex Baller for the groin shot and he barely had time to react fast enough. Mark heard the sound of automatic fire and saw the muzzle flashes. "That was kinda cold what we just did..." Said Janea. "What you got us out here doing, Grizz?"

"Yeah that was..." G Bone said. "I know you said Boogeyman said the money is good and all but i don't know about this shit."

"Don't you two worry. I'll take care of the rest. We'll find a spot to lay low then you get back to San Andreas. I still gotta deal with the junkie make sure he does his part."

Later That Night

Mark had the junkie, Wallace Harrison in the swamps. He shot him with a Handgun of the same caliber as he was shot with. The wound had to be exact. After that, he was digging the bullet out of him. "Man, what the fuck you playing at...?!" Growled the junkie. "Why you trying to be like me?"

"Don't worry about it..." Grizz told him. "This injury has earned you a consultation prize and a thousand dollars cash. That smack my man gave you? That's pure black tar...just take it easy...i want you to stay indoors using a few days then after a few days you can go out and get more. I got a matching wound, see?" He showed him. He lied then saying, "You and me, we can get away with a lot we look alike...the fact that I shot you while you was high is what kept you alive. The smack is gonna take the pain away."

New Arcadia Parish Jail

He had gotten the gangster to agree to it. He had the shank in hand and only his friends from before. The man said, "All right let's see the bread..." Neto handed it over and he came and took a swig at him and Neto dodged. "The fuck you doing?" Demanded the gangster. "You said you wanted to die!"

"I changed my mind..."

"Too late, bitch!" He swung again and Neto hit him in the stomach. The gangster gasped and almost fell over. "Try again..." Neto said. He growled charging at him again swinging the shank at him like a fencer and Neto dodged each swipe. He tripped him and he fell over. Neto intended for him to do so landing on his own blade, in the heart or perhaps the stomach. In reality, he landed on his own Adams apple with it. He gurgled as the blade poked into him and he was unable to talk. The others looked like they wanted to attack him but Neto pulled out a shank of his own. The others didn't have one. "Get my money from him."

One of them did. He tried to hand it back to the Mexican national who had the blade pointed at them. He shook his head. "You keep it."

Another prisoner panicked as he left. He attempted to give the deceased CPR. "Get off him stupid we gotta get up outta here, man!"

Later, another man would collapse in his cell after an arranged hair styling involving nicotine poisoning with the shit rubbed in his scalp. They had orchestrated it as a ruse to get him high and since Beans was one of the barbers who yet knew how to still cut the hair of most of the inmates in the jail despite it not being his own texture, he had arranged it. It had taken the man only fifteen minutes to die from it.

The last killings were orchestrated by the guards they had paid off. They had given the three remaining inmates Neto set up an order and the three started to comply but the three guards assaulted them for not doing it fast enough. The three inmates resisted and more guards got called into the tussle. All three men died from fractured skulls and the way it had been made to look, it looked like they had brought it on had even been a shank dropped in the scuffle. Nobody knew if it had been planted or if one of the three men had actually been armed but either way the jail inmates mostly didn't see it as justified. Neto's last days inside were easy because he had created tensions between the black inmates and the guards. The only ones who knew anything different were the ones who had seen him cause his attacker to kill himself and they weren't snitches.

They wanted to retaliate against Neto and if need be, go after Cyclone and Beans and Quicks and Ralphy as well. But with the majority of the black inmates brewing, possibly even wanting to start a riot and retaliate against the guards they were now too thin in numbers as individuals to try and attack them. Neto had been hearing whispers that they were planning to target the three guards for retaliation. He didn't know if i would happen but if they did, they would face severe penalties from the state.

November 9, 2015

Finally out on the streets after several days, though the days before had been very busy, had found himself free he now stood over the wounded and bloodied Sawyer. He had given him quite the beating but nothing too serious. He needed him just healthy enough for what was coming. He stood in a shotgun house in the 3rd ward and he had a line of angry looking mostly black men but some women all armed with one blunt object or another of their choice. It was a "Pay to play" scheme he and one of Stamps's contacts on the outside came up with. Each of them would get a chance to attack the man for fifteen seconds for fifteen dollars. The general minimum was fifteen but teenagers and kids could go lower. If they wanted more they paid more but nothing exceeding thirty was allowed.

"That';ll teach you to plant shit in my car you fuckin cocksucker..I missed Dia De Los Muertos because of your bullshit...I always make a shrine..." Neto whispered in the Cajun man's ear. The twenty people in there to beat him were all people he had at one point harassed, threatened or beaten or arrested. "Just so you know!" Neto yelled. "Mark Roman had this gavacho this redneck fucker plant shit in my car. I'm sure he has to you too. So the next time any of you consider the Romans folk heroes and me the bad guy, just remember I gave you a chance to get payback! You hate me I hate all of you but I give you what you want!"

"I got a question..." Stated a middle aged black man of Creole ancestry with a wooden bat. "Don't I recognize you from somewhere? You look like some of the foreign relief they brought that can't be right...you either Santa Muerte or you a charity man. Can't be both. Cartel charity don't make sense. Not with that reputation. I hear about Colombian cartels building Soccer stadiums but not no Mexican cartel and if you did it wouldn't be for niggas. So which are you?"

"The second one..." Neto lied. "I never set foot in this city before 2014. And this aint a carity. It's a business. The next time you try and any of you fight for Marrick Roman or that cunt politician and harass any of the gente in Lincoln...just remember...an Ese gave you all the chance to play White Trash piñata...you think the Roman Family would ever agree to allow that? The NAPD...are practically his spare soldados. And Maurice and Marrick can act like they don't like it but they benefit from it."

The next man took a chain and hit Sawyer multiple times with it across the back. Neto had given them the option to tie him upside down like a pinata if they wanted. There was women with tire irons, an older church looking lady with a night stick of all things and Neto almost cracked up wondering where she had it. A twenty year old skinny black man in faded blue jeans and a clean white shirt had a tazer, a 12 year old had his BMX with the intent of using that to beat the cop.

"You're gonna fuckin regret this and you just got all them charges for kidnapping and assault!" Sawyer roared through the gag. "You shouldn't talk with your mouth full..." Neto replied. "Didn't Locke ever teach you that in bed?"

Neto even saw an eleven year old with an unloaded .38 that he planned on pistol whipping Sawyer with for ten seconds.

Neto told Stamp's contact, "Well,I'll be back for my cut later."

He left and in reality he knew his contact would try and take all the money from him and not share it. In reality, Neto didn't care. It looked better anyway if this went south and Neto didn't have any of the cash these people were paying ion him while his contact did. He was no Baba Yaga but Neto felt he was getting good at manipulation. He would turn out to be right. After ten people had taken their turn on Sawyer, the police had finally shown up and arrested five of them for assaulting an officer, and several other charges. The rest had fled and got away but likely, everybody there would be brought up on charges. He'd been punched, kicked, hit with chins, bats, a few who had knives, rather than stabbing him outright or cutting him would instead be allowed to make one cut per dollar instead of one minute per dollar.

Later, Neto would ensure that his contacts from San Andreas would supply the Marabunta with pure cocaine from Ls Santos. He put the word out that Cruz would be allowed in on it if he wanted. They were discreet but money was being made in that weeek. H had told the south side gang members that they were to sell the dime bags of coke for just that. Ten dollars. It was absurdly low prices, one that would seemingly keep from profit but most of this cocaine was shit they had taken off enemies anyway.

Many in New Arcadia's drug scene were used to heroin and most couldn't afford cocaine and yet he was telling them to underbid the Roman Boyz and all the other ward hustlers by selling it as cheap as crack without it being crack. Neto had checked up with a few of Beans's contacts who were from the same gang and who were mostly slinging but not causing trouble banging and they too had survived the war with the Roman Brothers but had seen most of their friends die. Now, in this last week, they had been creating junkies out of house wives and they found it hillarious. It wasn't just suburbanites buying it now though some did try and buy in bulk. It was available to people from the projects.

Thanksgiving Day

Allison Trueblood just got off her shift and was glad because today was going to be a busy day for her anyway. She was down at city hall. She noticed a homeless man and recognized the heroin lean. She had seen it plenty in Waston. He had vomit in his lips and looked like he was on the verge of collapse. She then got a good look of him. A middle aged black man, tall and skinny as hell from heroin.

She knew heroin caused massive weight loss. He hadn't been seen in almost a week maybe more. She noticed he had a bandage on his arm as well. She pulled out her own personal Handgun from the car."FIB! Hands on your head!" Even though she was off duty, if need be she would declare it a citizens arrest.

He collapsed on the pavement, clearly having an overdose. She panicked calling 911 but she didn't want to give him him mouth to mouth. She hoped hey would get here in time to save his life. Luckily, exactly one minute and thirty seconds later, they came. The EMT's came and savd his life and the first words out of his mouth was, "Ya'll ruined my high, man..."

He was then placed under arrest and found in the back of his jeans was the handgun that had been used to murder a Vietnamese immigrant. His prints were on it but not on the trigger. Even so, he had a matching wound. When they finally got him sentient enough to talk he told them that he had been paid in heroin and given a thousand dollars to try and kill the female politician. He said he had no recollection of what the person looked like. He kept describing it as "The voice"

He was subsequently charged with the murder of the activist as well as one of the bodyguards plus an attempted murder. Locke was there to observe the arrest. "You should feel good about this one, kid. We've had to deal with this asshole for a long time. NAPD put a beat down on this asshole back in Febuary and he walked on posssion charges all cause of Black Lies Matter..." He said. "I understand getting mad about the dirty shootings and excessive force but that don't make em all martyrs..."

"Thank you, sir..." She said but there was a discomfort in her about it.

New Arcadia

Three Weeks Earlier

A Silver Peyote tore up the road and they were on their way to New Austin."I aint sure about this, brah. These North Side ese's are your partnas, man. Not one of mine.'

"Like it or not..." The youngest Roman replied tothe middle Roman, "We need them and they need us."

"Yeah, moterfucka? I don't see them spics lining up to help us against Merryweather."

"That was on my request. And cool it with the racial slurs."

"Nigga you act like that word aint never crossed your ashy ass lips. Miss me with the bullshit. Just cause you had one taco in the whole shit..." He said referring to the BSU. "And what he do he defected to the Aztecas. But they aint even really put him on so what does that tell you?"

"You think you could take Felix in a fight? We can always arrange a cage fight like that big Creek does."

"Yeah real funny mane. Besides that motherfucker from upstate San Andreas right he supposed to be a shot caller out here and he agreed to stay out of this fight? Fuck is that bullshit why he listen to you? BGA and NS are supposed to be equals and I thought they had more power in the San An pen but I guess it aint like that with him or you. And you aint even BGA no more so really he's just listening to an off brand nigga."

"Fool, I got more nice clothes and nice cars than you. Don't get mad cause the black sheep perfected the game. You asking why I'm trying to clean up my vocabulary even with how I talk about Vagos or Rifas? It's cause even with Ernesto and them I'm seeing the world is a hell of a lot bigger than just where we been to. And I know how the world gets made. That's all. You'd be right where I am too if you put aside your petty ego and pride about being older than me. You see what Maurice has gotten you."

"Nigga if he such a bad king of the hood why he had so much power back in the day before you did your shit with running around with them crackas?"

"He had marginal territory. I organized all the wards together."

"Correction, you organized a few wards that is more willing to fuck with you but it's really more about the 3rd and 17th. You still aint got 4th all the way sewed up If that'd been me and I was where you at and at odds with Joe, he'd have been murked same with that African nigga but you just sent him to prison. The fuck. Same with that Alonzo bitch from Carcer."

"You gotta be careful how many bodies you leave on the ground. You'd think you'd have learned that by now..." Chided Marcus.

"Yeah but what does leaving Lonzo alive do? You could have his ass in the federal pen in ad seg he can still make waves with the Apostles, homie. "

Mark put the radio on and the song The Bridge by Red Hot Chilli Peppers played. "A come on, Mark you killing me with this white boy shit. Why can't you put some Boosie on, something?"

"Hold up...so even though black men had a huge fundamental role in rock and roll you consider this white boy shit?"

"Hell yeah! It's by some white boys and yeah niggas back in the day did rock and roll but we aint like what it became so we jumped ship. It still belongs to us though."

"All right so let me see if I got this straight then...it's white boy shit even though they're doing a black man's music form?"

"Yeah!"

"All right the. So is Lenny Kravitz doing white boy music? He aint doing no Chuck Berry, James Brown, BB King shit that black purists like to say is the true rock and roll. He's modern and he's doing his thing so is his music white?"

"I would say yeah. I mean it's a black music but it's white style. he mixed though so that nigga confused about his melanin and his heart."

"Then Eminem...as a rapper, even if he is a white boy...his music is black then."

"Nah that's going too far."

"But you just said that if he's doing rock music that appeals to white audiences it's white shit. So why isn't Eminem's music considered black by your logic? And since he is white then on the other hand, does his rap then become white music? And shouldn't Lenny Kravitz be considered black music even if his fan base isn't?"

"Nah cause he's selling out."

"Then Lil Wayne's music is white too cause most his fans are."

"Nah you tripping."

"And most of Eminem's fans are black believe it or not. Just shut up. You don't see me tripping when 3rd ward niggas play Birdman..."

"His fans aint mostly black you fuckin crazy, nigga? You really think most Stans look like you me and me?" Demanded Marrick. "Ok, maybe not but in the city of Detroit most his fans are and if your own city aint rocking with you nobody is. Besides what about Latin Hip Hop? i've heard some of it. Brownside aint bad they got put on by Eazy E but they aint make it after he died and there have been others just as good."

"Don't nobody wanna hear about cholo shit and lowriders gang banging and khakis it's all about getting paid."

"So let me get this straight it's ok for niggas to rap about getting paid and hustling and banging but not them? Why should whites get to rap then most of them aint with the inner city gunplay."

"If the Mexicans can't get in the game, that's on them I mean they weren't good enough."

"Somebody could just as easily say we weren't good enough to last in the changing face of rock and roll then. If that's true, whites didn't steal rock from us they beat us at it. They made it better. I'm not too ashamed to admit that if that's true but you won't apply that same logic to the Ese' your argument pretends that Hip Hop's top artists gets chosen based on merit and not bullshit like who kiss the most asses or who a select few choose. And a few Rifas told me about some of the shit they say they noticed. A rapper like Sno Tha Product can make it or Tekashi 69 but only if they act like us. Thats kind of true."

"I aint never heard her say nigga..." Statted Marrick.

"No but she says 'woke' who you think she got that from?" Mark countered. "We complain as a people about cultural apprpriation but if we let in other races and don't want to make it just a black thing we gotta make up our minds on this shit. And stick to one argument. Either Hip Hop is universal or it aint. Even if you look at a music style that is white like country, they don't exclude people or try and say that it's a white man's form of music. If we want it to be about equality then we can't pull the race card every five minutes if somebody that aint black gets into it with us either. "

"Yeah but don't nobody deny that Mariachi is Mexican or country is white. "

"True but it didn't have the diverse amount of people working on it from te jump like Hip Hop and Rock did."

"Nigga, you might got a point about Rock but bottom line we didn't come up with no punk rock shit or no metal. That's pure white boy shit even if it is derived."

"Well in defense of Latin Hip Hop and how many of us say they hate us but make our music...at what oint does shit take on a life of its own? Punk rock, metal, Latin Hip Hop..."

'Bruh why you even defend that spic shit? It aint got a guitar anymore than Boosie do. When's the last time you ever heard somebody say let's go to a Chicano rap concert?"

"Because we used to belittle white people about being narrow minded for telling us to turn NWA down but we've become like them only mainly fucking with Hip Hop and R&B. And if somebody does listen to Eminem not even just Brownside or Chino Grande...if they listen to Eminem what happens? You get called Uncle Tom. Bullshit! And we can down the Ese's having their take on rap and talking about gangster shit but we have mainstream artists that do the same shit! And they mumble. Why is that different? Why is that better? Why is it better than even the most terrible Metal band that just screams and growls?"

"You been hanging around Ernesto too much and I don't like it.,..." Growled Marrick.

"I don't like the vast majority of motherfuckers you hang with either. And what? At least that man can provide some stability in his barrios. That's what we want here. If you aint got stability in the wards they'll step on you at every turn. I don't like you hanging with that crooked ass politician but there you go."

"Somebody gotta protect her from the Vagos Aztecas and Marabunta...you heard about that attempt on her."

"You fuckin her?" Mark taunted. Marrick growled, "Fuck you! It aint like that."

"Yeah you probably fuckin her. I know how it go. Old powerful pussy rises a young nigga in status and power...I see you."

Sunbelt

Ivan spotted Mark meeting with the Rifas. He signaled to Ernesto and Sly who he had brought along. There was also fifteen BSU members in addition to Mark's usual crew. Ivan turned to Sly. "You said you wanted revenge on some of the men that killed your friends in Cypress man there in the silver t shirt and blue jeans. He is the one who killed so many. He is a friend to the Da Nang Boyz. If you want to kill him today, you can. I'm afraid Santa Muerte isn't working fast enough to satisfy me. The idiot has landed himself in jail. I have Vasily handling something else in Liberty City."

Sly signaled to the ten other Psychos they had brought along. There was also four members of the Red Geckos.

Mark was talking to the NS leader. "You got a lot more clout now that you're running things. You got an army with more control than you probably had in the Bay and these people? They got more leadership than they've had in a while."

"That might be true which is why you should let us help the Wards and the BSu against these Merryweather bitches,. We got the guns and the muscle. I get that you got your orders but it's like your whole family is stubborn."

There was also a BSU member with blonde hair half shaved and half long. He was thirty year old Dirk Anderson. He was originally from St. Loius and had served in the US Army from 2004 to 2007. He had been injured in the line of duty and hadome home with an opiod addiction for pain.

He got clean three years later and turned to his love of the same music that banded BSU had once assisted the Militia in killing several skinheads in New Austin and had told members of the BSU that it wasn't just a good thing they killed Neo Nazis more so than any other gang banging drug dealers. It was also patriotic in his view,.

He was always trying to get New Arcadian and Sunbelt and LS members to check out the music scene where he was. He had killed five skinheads and while that was not many compared to most of these guys, it wasn't nothing and his militay experience made him valuable. He was going to help in aginst his status in the BSU, he did not know Mark very well. They could only be described as aqquiantances at best, strangers at worst and Ivan was not sure if they even respected each other personally but they obviously knew the other were professionals.

There was also Jason Bishop, a BSU member oiginally from Cleveland but who now resided in Dockington. He had curly brown hair and brown eyes and was twenty six years old. He too, had been a junkie once but the BSU had gotten him off the drugs and he was always saying how BSU andtheir anti drug policy was good but wasn't enough. He was always trying to say they should have their own rehab clinics. He argued that their own methods of getting former brothers with drug addictions clean was as effective as the Nation Of Islam.

Though his hair was also grown back, he was also a member of SHARP and he had a brother in Dockington who was finishing up a fifteen year sentence and was a member of the Undertakers. He was frustrated at the likes of Ryan and even Mark to a degree in that he had asked them to come to Dockington and throw their weight behind this program idea. Ryan had said they didn't have time or resources.

The youngest Roman had said he wanted to but at the time, it wasn't possible and he argued that it would be better if they did it in their own respective cities rather than one at a time. Even so, he was willing to help against Merryweather and put that disagreement aside. Jimmy and Davey had reached out.

T Cell stepped out and Mark had just left after finishing discussing their business. T Cell' Aztecas came in firing. They let off rounds nd hit the coalition of BSu members that had stayed behind in the warehouse to move their weapons to the next location. Sly fired his MP5 striking down two BSU members, one an African American born to Congolese parents in Carcer City with a 'bro hawk' and who stood five eight and 150 lbs.

He took ten rounds in the stomach. The next was a Samoan BSU member from Ohlone, San Andreas. He fell over with a chunk of his brain and skull matter blown out. Ivan hammered three Rifas with his AK-74. Cheetah and Felon returnd fire hitting two Markovich members, Cheetah hitting the first with a Mac-10 Felon hitting the man with an M3.

Falcoln hit two Psychos and a Bravta member as he fired with two pistols. Just then, the doors to the warehouse cashed open an a red Dominator came through and lee stepped out firing and he hit two Aztecas. "Thirs one you can blame on Asian drivers!" He yelled. Two Aztecas went to mow him down but each soon fell with an arrow in them. Task had climbed up the afters of the place and had somehow got there though how he knew about the meeting was beyond Ivan and Ivan figured if he had been part of it, he wondered why he wasn't on the ground floor.

He aimed at another cholo who tried to shoot Cheetah and he hit the man in the throat. The ex KGB agent wet to the rafters and climbed them. Task was distracted by the people on the ground he was shooting. Ivan fired his weapon hitting hitting the crossbow's handle. "You bring a fucking bow to a gunfight, yes?! Let's see what you're made of!" Ivan crowed.

Task had no time to go for his handgun. Ivan tackled him with a sideways punch to the left side of the face. Task kicked the ex Soviet away and proceeded to ram him. Ivan almost fell over the edge and he caught on just hanging over the side.

Meanwhile, the ex military BSU member laid down another Bravta member with coveringfire and he hit one of the Red Gecko boys. His triumph was cut short, however when he hook three rounds in his right leg as Sly fired into him. Sly's MP5 had went dry so he went for the .380 and popped off a few. The wounded BSU member fell and despite his vest, Sly fired six rounds into the same spot and the rounds went through and he was hit with five rounds.

The veteran fell over. Meanwhile, Baba yaga climbed back up, growling with irritation at what he viiewd as cowardice and he got his weapon back. Ivan fired striking Marcus Roman from behind. He saw blood and the gunshot went through his back. Meanwhile, just then, a arrow hit one of the Aztecas and another hit a Bloodfeather. They had shining red flashing lights on the arrow tips. Another hit a Bravta member. Explosions soon followed and Task stood above on the catwalk. Ivan calmly aimed up at him. He fired a burst of rounds striking the man's crossbow. The Lakota cursed and he retreated into cover pulling out two Handguns for sidearms. Sly came at Lee. "Yo bitch! This is for my homeboys in Cypress!" He fired his .380 at him but Lee took cover.

The East Asian gangster went to reload when the Chinese American lunged at him punching him in the left side of the face. The man fell over and Lee hit him again as he tried to get up. The Psycho kicked Lee's legs out from under him. "We don't have time for this!" Cried Task. "We got Merryweather on our asses!" He yelled as Cheetah and a couple more Rifas joined him in cover. "Not our problem!" Yelled Ivan at the gun dealer, overhearing his words. "Read the Art Of War! The timing is perfect!"

T Cell shouted back, "Fuck that. This turn coat puto isn't reading another fuckin book again! Unless we bury him with one!"

Syke O yelled out, "Fuck him! I say we leave his corpse face down unnder the open sky!" The Comanche spat with venom in his voice. "The fuck does that mean?!" Asked La Tortura. "HE knows what it means..." Task stated.

Ivan approached the fallen Roman. He kicked the weapon from his hand. He forced him to turn but he realized that while he had shot a member of the Roman Family, it was not Marcus. It was one of his cousins but Ivan was not sure which was close enough in height and skin tone to look like him at a distance. "Stupid motherfucker..." Groaned the wounded gang member. "I'm filling in as a proxy..."

Sly came back at Lee with a right blow to the face followed by a blow to the stomach. Lee was hit hard but his comeback was a lot harder. He hit the gang member with three lefts and three rights and as the gang member spat blood onto the ground, Lee grabbed his collar and hit him with an upper cut. Lee charged at him kicking him in the left ribcage. "I heard you want revenge, asshole! Well if you're the one you hood chose, they're gonna be pissed later! I'm not sure if I should kill you here or send you home battered and bruised and let them punish you for failure!"

A member of the Bloodfeather yelled out, "You should be on OUR side. Not theirs!" At Lee who ignored it. The Psycho got to his feet and used his empty .380 to club Lee across his legs. While most people generally didn't pick the shins as a place to pistol whip somebody, they were still painful places. Lee cried out and dropped to the ground. Sly hit him across the face with it next but he hit him so hard he also lost the grip on it. He decided to continue the assault with his hands. He kicked Lee in the stomach.

"What you don't realize is I know your weak spot, bitch. Neto found out from watching that fight he tells Ivan Ivan tells me."

He grabbed Lee and thumped him hard on the cut on his right cheek. He followed with a hard right to the nose and then another punch in the mouth. Lee spat blood and said "Yours..."

"What's that? Speak up, I can't hear ya bitch!" Lee repeated looking defiantly into the eye of the gang member, "Is your lungs..." He hit him as hard as he could with a right blow to the stomach. He stood up weakly in pain staggering but he grabbed Sly by the throat and he drove his sore leg leg into his stomach.

He wheezed. "See I hit you in the stomach your lungs panic you need air...I heard you hacking up first time I dropped you. What do you smoke about a pack a day?" Lee hit him again in the face and felt the TPG member's blood warming his fist as he hit him four more times. The fight was won and he let the gang member fall.

Ivan meanwhile, had retreated up the ladder but mostly to go after Task. He tossed a flash bang towards the Rifas. He had with him, a guest in a black ski mask. There was also a stairwell that was about halfway destroyed. The masked cholo threw the Rifas down it so they all had about a fifteen feet drop. They had to scurry to cover including Cheetah as the fight was still on below. The warehouse wall did however explode. The shock wave sent them all crashing to the ground.

Mark got out of a Peyote, the real Marcus Roman and he had nine Rifas with him plus some Roman Boyz loyalists from Sunbelt amounting to four men. They cam in hot. Topside, meanwhile, Ivan grabbed the dazed Lakota. "Hello, Chaytan. Not so touch without that crossbow are you? You must be pretty stupid to still be using arrows in an age of gunfights. I have been around other Native American criminals and they do not do this."

"I stick to my roots..." Task said surprising the Russian national with a shot to the stomach with a left hook. He followed up with a hard right sending Ivan staggering several feet.

"Yes but what about Wounded Knee? Charging at men with howitzers and gatling guns. That did not end well for you. The Apaches were excellent at stealth, Comances,the best horsemen. The Iroquois, were smart and used a mixture of Native and foreign technology affording them a better chance against invaders. The Seminoles were masters at guerrilla warfare and I would say they were possibly better at it than Apaches. But what were your people known for? Little Bighorn was a good battle but was all downhill from there. And compared to some of the battles won by Indian tribes in the late 1700's and early 1800's east of the Mississippi like the River Raisin and St Clair's Defeat, it pales in comparison."

Task threw another punch but Ivan caught it and reversed it striking the Lakota in the chin. "You know what you are? You're like those Ghost Dancing idiots. You think that you have divine medicine looking after you. You don't. I do not believe Native American spirituality is any more false than any other faith. The truth is all faith is equally false. You think you can survive modern warfare just because you have an AK slung on one shoulder and an arrow on another?" He kicked him in the back as he fell.

"Crazy Horse had power..." Task said wiping the blood from his lips. "So did Geronimo. They had visions they would never die in battle and they didn't."

"Crazy Horse was stabbed when being arrested..." Ivan said. "Plus he was shot for having sex with a married woman. And he lost a battle after taking loot from an enemy camp."

"Those were the things he was supposed to not do on the condition of his power but it's true that he didn't die during battle. And when he was grabbed and held down to be stabbed it was one of our own, a traitor helping the whites. They touched him and he wasn't supposed to be touched by other men of his tribe. Or any other men..."

"Fair enough maybe they had power or just great coincidence but you...you have the luck of a man cursed. I looked into your family history. You have gang members and drunks and addicts in your familly. People serving a life sentence. You know...we do have at least one sleeper in every state. We just so happen to have one serving time with your brother. You know your brother was stabbed. You can check if you want. In fact I won't kill you today. Just so you can check. Being a rez Baller is tough in the South Yankton prison system! People are not sure if the Tribal Brotherhood shanked him since they are dominant in there or the Aryan Vanguard since they have had problems with him. MAYBE my man orchestrated it on the AV front. Maybe not but what I an tell you is that there are several Caucasian inmates assigned to the hospital ward and a few rez dogs..."

Task took a swing at him but Ivan side stepped. "You're not being a good listener, Task!" He growled. "None of the woods on medical duty have gang ties. Some of the rez dogs do. So your brother will have to pray that it wasn't the TB that hit him. Of course, even if it wasn't, any one of those eight men could be the man that is with us. No ties to the Bravta, perfect documentation perfect American Midwest accent. But that doesn't mean the Vanguard couldn't have any one of them do it anyway. Many of those men are former addicts who got clean but some would slip for heroin offers or money. Plus there's the guy I have...if you continue to be a pain in the ass for the South West Vagos or the Aztecas, you will pay. Or your brother will I should say."

Task threw four hard punches but Ivan side stepped all of them. He punched the Lakota behind the left ear and goes went, "Did you know you use more energy missing punches than when you hit? Come on, little boy. You're outclassed."

"Says you, old man!" Task threw his switchblade at Ivan, closing the distance and Ivan had to dodge but it did cut his right wrist as he tried to dodge and block. This bought Task enough time to kick him in the testicles. "FUCK!" Ivan cried. Task hit him with a hard right roundhouse punch and kick the fist hit Ivan in the nose causing it to bleed and the kick hit him in the solar plexus. Task followed up with a kick to the ribcage to wind him and just to be safe, he did it again. Instead of pouncing on him however, he went up next to his head kneeling over and punching him in the face but he was in front of Ivan's head punching him at a downward angle instead of being on top of him facing the other way. "FIRST BLOOD, ASSHOLE!" He growled. "You touch my brother, I'll kill you!" He then throat punched him earning a wheezing gasp from the ex Soviet.

Task had gotten in some good looks but he knew he was outclassed. Ivan tried to kick him out with his legs but Task jumped dodging Ivan's long left leg and he got several feet away. He spotted a dropped Handgun from one of the dead Rifas. Task went for it. He managed to grab it and it was ready to fire but before he could even turn around, he felt a heavy weight from behind tackle him and slam him to the ground. Task was winded but he managed to fight the Russian off with a pistol whip to the jaw and before Ivan could grab it from him, Task kicked him once in the chest and once in the face. Ivan wheezed staggering back.

As this was happening, Felon and Cheetah were firing down at the ground level, both having come back up not only for igher ground and more cover but to attack the maske man who had tossed them though they had not found him yet and they each hit three Aztecas. Ivan was nearest enough staggering back pretending to be wounded more so than he was by Task's kick. "Thats enough! Get on the ground! I won't tell you again!"

Ivan suddenly in a flash of speed, grabbed Cheetah by her black hair and her automatic went spraying and he disarmed her but he was not quick enough to get the weapon before it clattered and he now had to pick between keeping his human shield or getting the weapon. "Look at that...I caught a Cheetah and I didn't even need a gazelle for bait..." Ivan chuckled. "Wait a minute...there's no Cheeta's in Mexico! Or Argentina!" He smiled through his bloody lips. "Come to think of it...my friend Grizz he's nicknamed that after a Grizzy bear. There's no bears in Africa either."

"Just shoot him" She screamed but she was trembling. "LET HER GO OR I'LL BLOW YOUR FUCKIN HEAD OFF!" Felon went to try and flank the Russian but from below, despite his body armor, he caught a round in the back from an Uzi that went through the vest and exited his chest. He cried out falling over wounded. "She's shaking, Task...is this what she's like after you fucked her...? Or before? Does Taskmaster supply the guns where it counts?" He asked his voice getting creepier to the Lakota and the Mexican American with every word. "FUCK YOU!" She screamed. "Well, I don't think we need to do that. You're moving like you already have a marital aid inside you."

Tasks hands were shaking too. Ivan's were steady as a cucumber. "I'll make this really simple. You drop the gun and we continue our war dance or I'll break her neck and toss her over the side like yesterday's trash. You think I won't do it? I'm not like you. Or these cholos who often have courage and feel invincible much like we do but the difference is KGB agents don't call the quits and find Jesus the way Vagos or Rifasdo...we just move onto the next stage. And Bravta?" He said this in Cheetahs ears. "We're more a cut above than the sewer rats...or the dumb farmers...but at least the scraps would give us a challenge."

He glared at Task. "You got three seconds. After that I break her neck. And sure you might kill me too you might try shooting before the three seconds are up. This isn't my first rodeo, cowboy. Or my first human shield. The last person that tried that trick with me was a police officer down here. All he ended up doing was shooting the whore he was trying to save before I put him down."

"All right...fine...I give up.,.we'll do it your way..." He started to slowly lower the gun. He put the gun on the ground and Ivan pushed Cheetah ahead of him letting go of her but still had her in front of him. "Now take the magazine out...and the one in the chamber..." Ordered Ivan. "I can still throw her over and the way things are going down there a fall plus possibly getting shot by her own friends would be a shitty end."

Task did as he asked and ivan let her go. But Cheetah came back turning around hitting Ivan with a hard left and before he could grab her, Task threw his gun at Ivan's face and beamed him. He hit Ivan in the right eyebrow and blood got in his vision. Task and Cheetah both bombarded him with punches and kicks and Ivan could not clear his vision in time and Task hit Ivan in the lip, he hit him in the jaw in the nose and again his cut. Cheetah hit him with a punch to the mouth, followed by punch to the right ear. She grabbed both shoulders and drove a knee into his right side. "YOU PIECE OF SHIT! AHHH!" She roared with anger taking out some of what she felt on what happened to her at Syke O's hands and he wanted to attack him this way next.

Ivan took two more hard rights from the Mexican and South American woman. She then drove a left knee into his right ribcage. Task hit Ivan as hard as he could in the stomach and Ivan fell over wheezing. Falcon, meanwhile, had a dropped Itcha shotgun in his arms and he was helping the wounded Felon get away from Ivan when he managed to get him somewhat stable with a medical kit, the Rifa groaned, "El mero mero...you should go help them...it looks like they got it from here homes...but that Russian has slipped out of worse."

"Orale, Ene. I'll go drop his ass now."

He saw Task and Cheetah kicking Ivan as he was on the ground and he told the two, "Muervete!" He aimed but before he could fire, he felt the cold steel of a .44 Magnum at the back of his head. "What do you say you and me go for a little mano y mano?" Ernesto chided. Before the NS shot caller could reply, Ernesto shoved him forward and he hit the rail and his shotgun clattered below.

Ernesto tossed his own .44 to the ground. "You don't think an old man like me could hurt ya do you?" He turned to three wounded Rifas who lay against the rails who could still somewhat shoot but couldn't really stand but they were conscious. "Let's see which prison gangas has the most cojones!" Ernesto said. Falcon threw a hard left into Ernesto's stomach and followed with a right hook to the jaw. "My jefita hits harder than you, bitch. Is that what they're teaching you youngsters in the Bay? Maybe if your wrists weren't as limp you could throw chingasos better."

Falcon sneered, "There's plenty of faggots in West Vinewood. Don't act like Smell-S aint gay."

"Yeah that's the part of town we don't live in. Where as with the Bay you're all pillow biters..." Ernesto threw a hard right into his nose causing the NS member to bleed and he followed up with a left hook to the jaw followed by a roundhouse punch to the face. He was smaller and if he had to be honest, he knew that Falcon was also physically stronger so he could only rely on speed.

He hit Falcon in the stomach with a jab from his left and followed with a side kick to the back. He went to try and grab the man by the head but Falcon drove a left elbow into Ernesto's chest and followed with a right elbow to his forehead. He pounced on Ernesto much like a falcon would his prey and he grabbed the ponytail and began punching the back and front of his head moving around and flinging around and hitting him in the back and front back and forth so Ernesto couldn't recover.

A wounded Rifa with a Mongolian tail wearing a bloody white t shirt and baggy gray khakis cried out, "Get him carnal! Fuck that scrapa up!" Another Rifa, who had a bullet wound in his right knee cap cried, "Fuck that skreezy nigga up, man!" Ernesto drove an elbow into his chest and caused him pain but he didn't let go of the ponytail. Ernest dove another knee into his gut and he still didn't let it go.

He finally hit him with a left jab to the balls and he let him go. Ernesto hit the doubled over Rifa with a right upper cut to the face and hit him with two more lefts as he went down but Ernesto had to step back and get his breath. Falcon got to his feet wincing at the groin pain and he like Ernesto, had a bloody face but Ernesto was bloodier.

"You tired old man? Maybe it's time you take a nap. Or debrief like all Onda ratas do."

"Take a look at the scorecard, mijo. You and me? We're gonna fight to the death and to hand no guns. I'm doing you a favor. I can't say for certain how many NS putos have died by our hands in the prison systems out here cause you lames weren't here in the 80's. The Paisas have more turf than you do. But San Andreas? Eight NS have died by Onda hands and two by the AV. You've only ever killed one of ours, homes. The most you ever killed was low rank soldados. Maybe a shot caller from a single varrio if you're lucky. If you kill me today, you score for your side."

"That's the plan..." Spat the NS leader. "Quit stalling with your bitch ass. You just a rat that doesn't want to be in a falcon's claws!" He lunged for him again.

Meanwhile, on the ground level, Jose had run out of ammo for his SMG after gunning down two BSU members, both white males in their mid twenties. He started to reload when a big Polynesian who had also ran out, tackled him. The Navajo-Chicano was a lot shorter than he and while Jose did have muscles he was more the lean muscle type where as Thire was a big man. Jose didn't expect this to go well but he would try and fight. Thire punched him hard in the jaw and followed with a right to the lips and he drew first blood. Jose roared with anger and punched him back as hard as he could and he did bust his lip open and he followed with a left to the jaw followed by a right knee to the stomach.

He then tackled the bigger man hitting him with his head and winding him and followed up with two blows to the side but the Maori man dropped him down with a hammer blow to the back and followed up with a hard right knee to the face. Jose flew back and the bigger man charged him and began punching him again and again. Jose made a feeble attempt to kick him in the stomach but it did little to stop him.

Jose managed to roll out from under the Maori using his smaller size and speed to his advantage and kicked his right leg out from under him and he brought both fists on both sides banging each ear with a fist. "You motherfucker! I remember you! You were in Rancho! There was a big Samoan rolling with these fools!"

"I'm Maori, bitch! Better warriors. We hunt sharks...and besides...you Aztecas and Vagos killed just as many Samoans in Cypress Flats!"

"We didn't burn their varrio down, punk!" He threw a punch at about half his strength but it busted his lips further and he hit him again in the nose. The next thing he did was kick the Maori in the stomach but even as he winded him, he caught his fist and surprised Jose with the strength of his grip. He hit Jose with a hard left to the jaw followed by a right hook and he kicked him in the face as he went down cutting his cheek on the left side and he also cut his forehead.

"Never fight somebody..." Began Thire, "Whose ancestors make weapons from shark teeth."

"Fuck you! You never fought the US army, bitch! Hawaii barelyput up a fight! Samoa too, Maoris only fought England and your country is seen as a smaller Australia, man. I aint hating on Poly's at all but don't get cocky!"

"Well then all that Navajo and Mexica warrior-hood got lost on you being a bitch cholo. I'm not with the Sons Of Polynesia. I'm not gonna run away and find join a choir" Jose threw a right jab from the side busting the Maori's lip further but the Maori grabbed his arm after the fact ignoring his pain and he twisted his arm dislocating his shoulder. "Say uncle...or I'll break it..." He warned... He twisted harder and Jose cried, "UNCLE!" He let him go with a kick to the back. He still knew he needed to at least knock Jose out or kill him however.

Jose kicked his legs out from under him and rolled to his back and he pounced on the larger man's back punching him three times in the back of the head. He then got his arms in a headlock around him squeezing hard as he could. The Maori's face turned red and he punched him as hard as he could but Jose, despite losing strength, held on for another twenty seconds.

He finally flung him over his shoulder slamming him down winding him and as he coughed, Jose writhed in pain and he might have succeeded in choking him out but one shoulder was dislocated. He body slammed him, not even doing so fully from strategy but fatigue however he winded him further.

"I'm not...letting you kill me..." Cried Jose. "Truthfully, I don't want to. You're just a kid. Something about you reminds me of me and I don't know why. But you're the type to keep fighting when you've lost. If I allow you to keep trying, I'll you could get us both killed." He brought his boot down on Jose's forehead to knock him out.

At the same time, Task and Cheetah kept bombarding Ivan with blows. It was like he was getting jumped by a couple of Rifas even though only one of them was. Ivan finally threw a punch and he sent Cheetah crashing against the railing hitting her head.

He then threw himself to the ground to avoid a hay maker from the gun dealer. He kicked the Lakota's legs out from under him to buy some time. "You know...I wasn't here for you, Chayton. I wanted to fight Mark and look at us both. Bloodied and beaten. Mark doesn't have a scratch on him. Even Lee took some damage even though he won."

Task threw a left hook at him but Ivan caught his arm and flung him backwards and while Task did catch his balance, he did not catch the next punch that Ivan leveled at the right side of his head. Ivan grabbed him by the hair and punched him in the back of the head then in the side and front. Task made a feeble attempt to defend himself but Ivan just tossed him like a rag doll.

Ivan followed with a series of one two punches and kicks, four punches two kicks. Task fell back to the ground spitting blood from his lips. He still got back up but Ivan now held his own Makarov in his hands,. He had also taken one of Task's spare bolts from his now destroyed crossbow after Ivan had shot it a second time.

"Why don't we play a little role reversal? You take my gun..." He tossed him the Marakrov to his surprise and Ivan had one of his arrows. "You use bullets i'll use arrows. How the west was won...or lost, right? It seems to me if every Native American tribe had only guns for war and didn't use arrows, except to hunt they might have won!"

"You know what I like about you...?" Spat Task, glaring as he checked the magazine to make sure it was loaded There were six rounds left in it and he didn't even have to look he could feel it. "Unlike most wasichus you know this aint your land. In fact you're as much against Uncle Sam as my people are. But like 9/11 you are so blinded by your hatred for them you don't care who else gets fucked over!"

"That's right! I don't! The mission is what matters. The US government polices the world and it wouldn't have been possible if not for the power they gained subjugating you. Their military might took years to accumulate and they couldn't have done it without centuries of warfare and loss against Indians."

"MANFRED is Indian. I'm Lakota."

"Well you are not a sovereign nation, my friend. You are only as sovereign as the US allows. It would be nice if each tribe was seen as an independent nation but it's a joke. As of right now you are no more a sovereign nation than any other tribe that resides in Mongolia or Siberia. If there's one thing I don't respect about what some tribes fought like...they weren't nearly ruthless enough. They adopted in white settlers. Instead of killing them. You didn't see Incans or Mayans or Aztecs doing this. It would be white supremacist of me to say that because your culture did not meet my country or the US's definition of civilization you were not civilized but it is obvious you were thousands of years behind these apex civilizations I just mentioned."

He sighed. "Okay...we draw on three..." He took the arrow in hand wishing he hadn't ruined Task's crossbow. "One..two..." He cheated however and threw the arrow at Task's left leg but Task also predicted he would cheat so he fired. The round hit Ivan in the left palm and he cried out as the bullet hit it. "AHHH! FUCK!" Task however was in more pain as the arrow he threw hit him in the left knee. "SHIT!"

Ivan like a feral animal, charged Task kicking the gun from his hand and took it up. "You've lost, Task..."

"YOU SON OF A BITCH! MY FUCKIN KNEE!" The gun dealer cried. "I'M GONNA KILL YOU AND EVERYBODY IN YOUR GANG FOR THIS!"

"I would be entertained if you tried..."

"I'll kill you...! You hurt my brother..."

"Technically, I didn't he was stabbed but he was not killed and my man only orchestrated the hit to see how effective the South Yankton prison inmates are. Evidently, they are not very effective. If it had been him he would be dead. But just understand even if my man was not inside with him, your brother is not having an easy time of it. Reservation knock offs of LS gangs don't do well in prisons in the Midwest run by other gangs. Your brother doesn't just have to worry about the Tribal Brotherhood in there. He also has to worry about the Rez Mob."

"I'm gonna kill you for this shit..." Growled Task.

"Please, Mr. Merchant of Death. You are in no position to judge what I have done. How many guns did you buy from Trevor Phillips and then sell them? How many gang related shootings do you think happened in the Midwestern cities alone? Carcer City, for example has had nearly 700 murders. You have to wonder how many of them were by kids with your guns. Once you sell them it really is out of your hands."

Meanwhile, Ernesto's face was more bloodied than Falcon's was. Falcon, in triumph, grabbed a 10mm off the ground. "I think this sur rata was right homies. We do need to even the score!" Ernesto got to his feet and had managed to roll behind him just as Falcon took a shot at him where he had just been. Ernesto knocked the gun from his hand and it clattered to the floor below.

He then proceeded to punch the man with three blows to the liver from the back and then, Ernesto alternated hitting him with lefts an rights as hard as he could to both kidneys. This surprised him and while Ernesto was dizzy from all those blows to the face, Falcon had been short sighted in not trying to body him with his fists.

He dropped to his knees as pain shot through him and Ernesto grabbed him by the throat with his left hand and beat him again and again with his right. He punched him in the nose, then in the teeth which fucked up his hand, but he kept going. He hit him in the lips, he punched him in the right eye and the left. By the eighth blow, the Nuestra Syndicato shot caller's face was swollen and his left eye had some bleeding.

"I'm not a rat, peewee. What I am is a jaguar and birds get eaten in the jungle."

He hit him with a left jab to the stomach, at about forty miles per hour speed wise. Falcon groaned wheezing and Ernesto told him., "You know what they say about birds, right? Even they gotta fly south for the winter..." He punched him with his good hand finally knocking the man unconscious. He stood up grabbing the .44. Cheetah had just awakened from her dazed state and saw Ernesto with the .44 and she was trying to help Task with the arrow in his knee.

Ernesto saw that the wounded Rifas who were sitting unable to walk but still able to shoot were still there, alive. Ernesto plugged the three of them each with a gut shot watching their insides spill out. Cheetah had recovered a Beretta with nine rounds left in it.

Ernesto walked with his back turned. "You want to get back at me for your friends, puta? Take the shot. If a hyna kills an Onda shot caller, you really think NS wouldn't consider finally having a female faction? Think again. You'd have stripes from here to Eagle Bay. But you better be prepared for what comes after. If you can't do that, you aint a true North Sider."

She did not shoot and instead helped Task with the arrow in his leg, putting her Rifa pride aside to wrap his wound.

Down on the floor, casualties on both sides mounted and Marrick had gotten more backup. He had nine more 3rd ward soldiers with him but they had already lost four more though they had killed five Aztecas, three Psychos, what remained of the Red Gecko's with Ivan and two more Bloodfeathers.

The BSU members outside Mark's inner circle had started with fifteen people but were now down to four. Syke O had been trading shots with them. Syke O took a blast at Mark with an Uzi and Mark took cover. Just then, they heard barking. "The fuck?!"

Syke O grinned. "Neto loaned him to us just in case!" He cried out to the pitbull. "JAWS! Cuā!" The pitbull raced past the rounds being fired and sicced one of the Rifas. With ease it got him on the ground and tore his throat out. Syke O then did the same yelling for it to go after Mark. Lee tried to shoot the dog with the shotgun but a Psycho who was wounded and ran out of ammo, charged him with a switchblade and the two Asian men grappled. Though Lee soon won that exchange and plunged the knife in the man's right eye socket, it was enough to stop him from shooting the dog.

Mark got to his M1911 as the dog charged him and he managed to keep it back smacking it but he had to defend his gun hand as it tried to bite this as well. Syke O stepped on the gun hand to stop Mark from doing this. He cried out but stood up ready to smack the Azteca. He had to back up however as the dog was not done and he jumped on top of an empty crate.

Two of the BSU members fired at Syke O and a round grazed his left arm and another grazed his right leg forcing the Comanche to roll to cover. He called something else out to the dog in Nahuatl to get him to come to him. Mark took a few sots at Syke O who got to cover behind a pillar. "You know what? I'm not sorry we tried to kill you. I'm sorry we got the wrong person!"

"Bringing a mutt to a gunfight?! If you get a shot, kill the fuckin d thing!" Lee growled. As both sides reloaded, Mark yelled, "Ernesto! Get down here! Tell your man to stand down and i'll tell mine!"

"What the fu ck for?" Asked Ernesto walking down the stairs. "You afraid to lose?"

Mark decided rather than a witty comeback to try diplomacy. "Sometimes in battle before after or during the generals meet to discuss terms. Me, I just wanna know why you're wasting time with petty shit! This is bigger than your shoe war. We have Merryweather after us. WE, Ernesto."

"Yeah and you left them out of it..." He said referring to the Rifas. "But what about my son? Better yet, what about how these putos took a blast at Syke O and did kill my homegirl? And they beat up Chongo and got him deported. Guess what happened? He's in prison in Bolivia now."

As Cheetah helped Task walk and heard this she growled, "Good! Fuck him! I hope they kill him in there!"

"He killed an Argentinian national as soon as he got down there..." Ernesto smirked. "Beat him to death with a wrench."

"Yeah, puto? Tell him to enjoy communism. Falcon would have finished him if it wasn't for the juras."

Syke O sneered, "Argentina went from being a developed nation to having to be a developing Evo Morales is doing he's doing better than ya'll."

"You talk a big game, chica but that's all it is. I gave you a chance to empty that cuete into my back but you didn't. See that proves to me you aint real. i'm real. Halcon is real he would have done it. Then again maybe not..." Ernesto chided.

The BSU aside from Mark, Lee, Thire, Link, Jimmy, Dave and Ed, were down to four men. There was six Aztecas left and six Rifas left. Only two Bloodfeather's remained and five of the 3rd ward.

Ivan and Syke O woke up Jose. "We gotta go...we gotta be fast...anybody left behind could die."

"So you're gonna retreat?" Mark sneered. "I don't think so."

Mark then directed his fury and his Handgun at Syke O. "Maybe I'll kill everybody in here but you but I'll turn the dog into dog chow. Then leave you alive for when Neto gets free. You think he's gonna respect the interstate rules of prison politics and not come after you when you let his dog get killed?"

"If anybody's killing that dog, it's me..." Growled Lee. "He took a bite out of me bigger than you, Marcus."

"Why do you want to retreat?" Demanded Mark. "You have some southsiders a few Psychos left and a handful of Bravta.

"Truth is...you got bigger fish to fry than me..." Ivan said with a wicked grin. "I would say at least thirty guppies and two big whales..." They heard the helicopters initially thinking it was police but it wasn't. Ivan, unbeknownst to the BSU members had set up C4 charges on the north wall. He detonated them just as the building was rattled but not from the blast he caused. Soon machine gun rounds were sprayed on the building and one of the Rifas was blown up as the front was hit with rockets.

The front end wall was breeched and scores of Merryweather agents were coming in firing upon Mark and the BSU. He quickly took cover and while aside from the minor wounds from the dog, he was fine, and lee was somewhat battered, his crew was worse off and the remaining BSU members that had come to help them were too close to the Merryweather agent's line of fire for his comfort. He had ringing in his ears but he screamed, "GET DOWN!"

He was bothered by the ringing. Suddenly a Central American woman stood in front of him with a P90 aimed at his head jus as his hearing came back."Do you know who I am?" She demanded. She was pretty but chubby. "A bitch that better get that gun out my face before it ends up up her ass..." Mark growled.

"You killed Pajaro...mi compa...we didn't do shit to any of you"

"You people keep saying that..."Mark said. "Like Neto wasn't blowing cars up."

" ONE person did but Neto aint from Rancho. Sunbelt varrios, sure...but we didn't and you sent terroristas after us...I never KNEW you before this happened..." She gritted her teeth and pulled the trigger. She cursed as it had run out of ammo. He grabbed the butt of the Rifle trying to pull her down towards him so he could kill her with his hands but she let it go and the weight shift of that caused him to stagger a bit and she retreatted.

Ivan and the battered Aztecas, Bravta and Psychos and what remained of the Triads, hauled ass through their entrance and the gang members had in fact parked out back on purpose.

Lee and Mark got to cover behind the stairwell with the wounded Task and Cheetah. Two of the Rifas carried Falcon to cover as well. Thire tried to get what weapons and ammo he could to hold them off but they were all low on ammo there was weapons from deceased gangsters everywhere but it was risky to get them.

"They got two attack choppers..." Gasped Lee as he saw the shadows from outside. "What are we going to do?!"

Link spoke out in anger, "Ivan called and put more money down on the contract they already put on our heads. That asshole tried to expedite what was already in play!"

"I'M GONNA KILL HIM!" Mark growled.

As they made their escape, Ivan, beaten and bloody stated to Syke O, "You better lay low. Merryweather still could and would target you. They may have missed you this time cause you were with me and I'm protected but the next time, they might not. Same goes to you, Ernesto. Get out of town for a while. Unfortunately, Mark is right. You have your war with the Rifas but this doesn't do you any good with Merryweather. You should be fine, if Merryweather kills him. I don't think he will die for sure but they can thin out their numbers. His brother is in there with him."

Chela got on her phone as they got ready to leave. "I know I don't have the skills to take Marcus Roman out. And my one shot was in there and I fucked it up. But even if I can just put some money down towards Merryweather's bounty...I'll add money to their shit every day until the job gets done...I don't even give a fuck..."

T Cell and his remaining soldados peeled out crying, "Let's go!"

Ernesto sighed telling Ivan, "Let me out...I'm gonna help them.. you an go..."

Syke O was s against this as Ivan. "Are you crazy? We should let them finish them off! They think this shit was the battle but it was the trap and the real battle is going on in there! "

Ernesto said, "I get that but I'm not doing it for them. I'm doing it for Felix. We all make mistakes."

"Fuck that punk..." Growled Syke O. "That guy's weak. People like him run to us out of a sense of identity crisis more than true faith. That whole shit with Percival's relative? If I had busted into somebody's house and one of my partners raped somebody even an enemy, they're dead. The fact that Felix didn't shoot both of them proves he's a punk. I say let Merryweather have him. Loka is cool but but I remember the days when that fool was against us in Sunbelt. Adayh is a real man. Felix? He's like a middle class dude who comes to the barrio to be cool..."

"He's not from the suburbs, Syke O. You know better than that. He didn't grow up far from where I did."

"Yeah but he chose to hang with Taibos..." He spat showing disdain in his use of the Comanche word for Anglos. "He didn't need to kick it with them just to love metal! There's plenty of Raza bands"

"The kid is all right, Syke. He just needs guidance. I say we're helping him and that's that."

Ivan shook his head at what he saw as their weakness. "By helping Mark you'll be helping Rifas...and you'll have to find your own ride."

Ernesto made his way back with Syke O and he assured him, "Trust me, ese...it's a delicate balance between m and the kid..." He said referring to Mark. "And from what I heard in Eagle Bay...they're working on a truce with NS. I don't think Falcon is on board and I doubt the Rifas here would be but it has to happen in San Andreas first. Mark could be instrumental in helping that happen."

"Mark would never want that..." Whispered the Comanche. "It's better for him if we keep killing each Rifas out in San Andreas...maybe one day but these fools out here are some false claimers with no knowledge of NS heritage or La Onda. They need to die regardless."

"Fuck that for tonight...if I go back to help him, even after what we did tonight...they owe me...Mark owes me the BSU owes me. And he owes YOU. He may not want to admit it but he'll know it. I just wanted to damage the Rifas a bit. Ivan orchestrated the larger part of this. I don't know what the Romanos did to him to piss him off but he's on a war path.

"That buster is still in there..." Syke said, his dark eyes filled with concern illustrated by the flames in the night. "Yeah...that's why its god you're with me. Mark might keep Falcon off us but if he doesn't you're with me."

"This is fuckin suicidal!" Syke O whispered frantically. There was one Merryweather Buzzard doing a sweep to the back so Ernesto and Syke O had no choice they jumped through the hole in the wall where the gunfight was still on and one of the defenders inside had a PKM and was trying to hold off the Merryweather goons and was likely going to try and use it on the choppers next.

West Los Santos

November 20, 2015

Eddie had finished with the brunette hooker with long auburn hair, bright blue eyes, a large ass about forty two inches in size, and a pair of B cup tits. 36B. She had piercings all over as well. Both nipples; horizontal clit hood; navel; ear lobe; tongue. She also had tattoos all over her whore body. Flowers on left big toe; ankh on left thigh; white floral scrolls on both arms. His hand grabbed her right breast as he fucked her anally from behind. He'd already had her cunt and she'd sucked him off but he wanted every hole. They hadn't put up for two rooms so the other hooker being fucked was a blonde haired brown eyed woman being fucked on the bed by Eddie's friend from his last stint. She was bustier but with a smaller ass 38 inches and stood 5'8 with 40F in a cup size. Her breasts bounced as she moaned being penetrated by the other ex con.

Anthony Cobb. Cobb was white trash from Blaine County, Sandy Shores to be specific and he was a white male, aged 23, with his long hair dyed a mix between black and bleach. He had a mustache redneck style and a goatee and mutton chops. He was a member of Most Hated. He had joined inside. He was a ruthless man with a kill first ask questions later attitude.

He had two lightning bolt tattoos on his right arm that he had earned assaulting black inmates. Eddie had also seen him slit a trans gender inmates throat. Even darker still, though he had no way to know if it was true and though Eddie had brutalized and violated several women, he had never done anything to a child which Cobb had bragged he had. He claimed he had 'fucked a nigger virgin at the average age of deflowering'' and Eddie asked him what he meant. He had said, "She was about twelve. I guess that really makes her a late bloomer don't it?"

Eddie had warned him not to do it again and not to talk about it around any of the Vanguard or MH1. He had said don't worry because they had arrested a black man for it. Still, Eddie had warned, say nothing like that again and do nothing like that again.

They had understood each other in prison. Sometimes, to them, the need to fuck and the need to kill was often the same thing. He was close. The hooker under him moaned. Eddie smacked her ass as he trust into her."Yeah...! You like that baby?" His dick burrowed deeper into her anal cavity, the lube slick against the condom and her eyes rolled back in her head. Cobb was also close as he fucked the blonde whore.

She was actually a white Hispanic, her heritage Iberian and she was speaking in Spanish as he was now fucking her anally. "Aye...! Aye cono...ahhhhhh!" She cried out as he fingered her folds while taking her. Eddie shot the other Aryan a look. It's time to go. Let's both finish up.

Eddie got his belt from his pants as he was in mid thrust. He wrapped it around the brunette's throat and began to strangle her even as he fucked her. "No...! Get off me...! Ge...get...g..." He looked at himself in the mirror thrusting as her face started to turn red. The blonde took notice and tried to intervene but Cobb placed a pillow over head head all the while fucking her as she screamed. "LEMME GO!" She roared through the pillow.

Eddie kept thrusting inside the brunette and finally he ejaculated at the exact same time she died. He'd made a point to synchronize this over the years sometimes he missed it but it was always a goal. He didn't kill every woman he fucked. Sometimes he just wanted to fuck and sometimes he just wanted to kill. When he just wanted to fuck, he would fuck female white gang members including featherwoods from MH1 but when he wanted to fuck and kill, he would either find white prostitutes or minority women and kill them especially if they were from a rival gang.

He exploded on her back having pulled out in case her bowels released. Cobb was premature and the blonde was still not dead. He exploded on her thighs. Eddie chuckled. "You gotta work on your stamina, amigo! You're younger than me!"

She screamed having a second, "YOU FUCKING TWO PUMP CHUMP!" He punched her hard in the face. "Fuckin bitch!"

Eddie stated, "How about this. You keep on doing what you do and try again. I could use a hummer myself and well..." He looked back at the dead brunette. "I think I BROKE her."

"Sure..she's damaged goods..." The younger gang member said. He then said, "But if we do that those teeth of hers gotta come out first..."

When they finished with her, and they indeed had knocked her teeth out,after they had both taken another crack at her, Eddie strangled her with the belt while Anthony finished. They put the two bodies in the shower and rinsed them off. Then they got some hefty garbage bags and put them in the back of Eddie's truck. "All right..." Eddie said. "Time to flush em both down the toilet. Then get out to LS. We still got business."

Neto

It was around 9 AM. Jose didn't like the idea o meeting with these people and neither did Culebra. None of them did. Culebra, with four members of 49th street with him, said, "Mirate, el mero mero. Why are we meeting up with these gavachos, man? This aint the pinta and even if it was i know you. You always play by your own rules. It's what you did down south. Why meet with them? We don't need them."

"I'm just curious. More than anything. Don't get the wrong idea, vato. We aint gonna be hermanos with these peckerwoods you have mi palabra on that. But if they want to volunteer to be bullet fodder between us and the mayates who are we to stop them? Same with the chinos. Those levas from MH1 are havin a hard time in the Flats."

Jose voiced his concern too. "Yeah but I think that's what they want to do with us, carnal. Talk us into being bulletproof vests for them. Then it comes down to who does it better manipulating allies...so called allies. When it comes to that, the gueros got us beat, brother."

"In military history, sure. Pero somos pandilleros. It's different than world armies. Fuck you doing here anyway, Pepe? Shouldn't you be at home con su ruca? You just became a papa, man. You should be at home with the twins."

He'd had a pair of twins a boy and a girl born to him. Jose smiled at the thought of that but said, "I still got business out here and i want to be made a carnal. I already got a lot of enemies for the shit I've done they want to fuck with me and probably mi familia now too. Who do you think has a better chance at protecting his family in this shit? A soldado or a five star general?"

"That's fine..." Neto said. "But once you're in there's no way out. i'd never try to get out myself. i never had a future. In just seven more years i'll be forty. These calles got an expiration date on them but I'm in it forever. It's a lot easier to say it at your age and not mean it. I don't think you're cut out for La Onda. And that aint a bad thing."

"That's bullshit, man! I took care of that shit i was asked to..." He was referring to the Little New Arcadia shootout. "And i aint in prison for it."

"Yeah you were ordered to do it. You feared for your life if you didn't. Who wouldn't? But it's one thing to follow an order you didn't wanna follow. You could be making those calls someday and you'll be putting some other vato at risk."

"Orale...it's my choice. I don't even gotta be sponsored by you. It'd be somebody from another varrio to sponsor me."

"Yeah but they're inside and they don't care if you go back inside. Me, I'm out here I watch your ass too."

"Aww so you saying you care?" Jose replied with a drip of sarcasm. "If it means that much to you say. In front of the homies..." He said seriously."

A cholo from 49th street wearing shades chuckled, "What a fag, homes. He wants you to share feelings."

Neto told Jose, "Shut up. I did and I have watched your back. As much as you have mine."

A truck finally showed up. Joaquin told Neto, "Listen, jefe...I'm telling you I've heard bad shit about Eddie, shit."

"Yeah? Then why didn't you say anything before the meeting? People say shit about me too. They say I'm involved with pimping just because the Madrazo cartel does it but I never handled any part of that business I was about guns and drugs."

"You didn't exactly give me much notice..." Protested the San Andrean tribesman. "You just said get out here you said the AV reached out."

"If whatever it is is so important, tell me after. I know a little about this dude. His family used to be big shot AV too."

They came up to each other. Eddie had with him a long haired white male with bleached and black hair wearing a denim jacket with the sleeves cut out and just his bare arms hanging out plus denim jeans and cowboy boots. In addition, there was a man with short blonde hair and cold blue eyes, the hair looked nearly yellow in color and this man looked to be in his late forties or early fifties. "You must be Eddie."

"Yeah and you're Santa Muerte. I've heard stories about you. You must have heard a few about me."

"Not really. More like your brothers, Morgan and Monty. I've heard whispers from the streets about how you were a big Vanguard Family even your late Uncle is an original. But the 90's were a long time ago. What do you want, wood?"

"Hey, watch your fuckin mouth!" The blonde haired male growled in his forties. "This man was killing when you were an inch in your daddies pants, amigo!" Neto glared at the blonde Aryan. "That's a nice German Sheppard you got there. I'd put it on a leash before it gets shot."

"We aint here to fight..." Stated the Sandy Shores born Aryan in the denim. "We're here to make a deal."

"Lets hear it and make it fast..." Culebra said. "I don't like breathing the same smog as you."

"I'd suggest shutting that fuckin Chihuahua up..." Replied the blonde AV member. "Bern...chill out, man. We're talking here."

He then continued, "All right. We already know you guys have serious problems with the Families and the Ballas on the streets. I know you don't need help with them. And you have problems with the Da Nang Boyz and the Psychos. It looks like the Vagos have a tight handle on that too. But then there was that BSU situation in Rancho we heard about. A bunch of out of town crusaders come in and blow up a gas station. Now I know you see me...white skin, swastika, you think I'm the last asshole you can trust. But that's where you're wrong. I aint a racist. I'm more of a separatist. But that don't mean we can't work together."

"You gonna pretend your family never worked with mayates? The outside has different rules. And I know for a fact none of you gives a shit about a gas station in the barrio getting blown up."

"That's where you're wrong..." Bernie stated. "Eddie here may not have problems with your kind but I admit i do Still, this is America and even the underground is capitalist. That means we work with...you people. But even in a ehit hole like Rancho a bunch of anarchists..even white ones start blowing places up...sends the wrong message. Gives towelheads ideas. Maybe they start thinking they can practice on ghetto targets to build up to real ones. Don't think I haven't noticed it though. You people get hate crime injunctions against you just for killing niggers wh okill you. It don't matter if they didn't sanction it from the inside. A nigger don't need to be ordered to do something violent. It just does it naturally. But not even the BSU got a hate crime injunction. Sure, you can't prove racial motive but...it doesn't look good optics wise."

"That's not really true though a few of them used to run with Aryans inside before they joined BSU some of the ones that died..." Jose stated the Navajo-Mexican addressing the high ranking AV member. Eddie snorted at that. "Yeah for protection not true faith. Sure maybe you can say it a little and sure, the liberal media might be looking to hit them with hate crime injunctions too in addition to being a high security threat. I just heard about it. State capitol they're talking about implementing it. The attorney general is looking to make an example of them."

The AV leader then paused. "But that doesn't really help you against Asian and black gangs that can shoot a family of your people innocent or affiliated and never be charged with hate crimes. You say you don't need us for numbers, fine. But how about the police? if we cooperate on the streets as much as we have inside, we can pool our resources. Two groups with nationalist tendencies or at least culturally homogenous values against socialists...multi racialists, black gangsters who don't even pretend to honor their own heritage, plus Asians that want to be like them. it's people with roots against people without them."

Another MH 1 member said, "And don't think some of us aint apprehensive about this shit. A lot of you Ese's hit us inside despite being our so called allies. I always thought we'd fuck you over, i'm being honest. Our white pride alone, you'd think some of the more...militant brothers would but it was you! It's the Tokyo and Berlin pact and Tokyo is fucking over Berlin."

"Your kind hates us just as much if not more than they do though..." Jose said. "Affiliated or not. Even your average citizens are racist against us."

"Maybe a lot of Aryans feel that way..." Eddie said. "And sure you might see me as a big bad Neo Nazi but I'm more like an original Nazi. I don't hate all non whies. I just hate the most insidious ones. I don't hate black civilians. Just the ones i purple and green. And for the record, you're Navajo, right? You know in Mein Kampfh Hitler said nothing bad about Native Americans and he wanted to give Mexico back the South West if they had attacked the US."

"Really cause I heard he copied the reservation system and applied it to the death camps."

"I'm not denying reservations were bad. Still are. POW camps, sure but can you call it death camps? The Jews weren't getting commodities. They weren't given their own trading posts. Besides, what's worse...a man who uses the concept of a concentration camp on a population unrelated to yours, or the American government who actually did use it on your ancestors? See even if Hitler did get that concept from the US, we don't know that for sure. The victor writes history. Now it's illegal to deny the holocaust in European countries. Plus they say that we also copied Jim Crow from the US. Which is it? Cant be both. The reservation system and Jim Crow were different policies."

Culebra stated, "I'm Mojave myself. I heard Hitler thought the Lakotas were supposedly Aryan. He read these German written western books about white invasion of Native land..." As he said this,Cobb rolled his eyes muttering, "We gonna talk alliances or ancient fuckin history?"

Culebra continued, "But supposedly these books portrayed our side as the heroes. Nationalists fighting a foreign people. He thought that the Lakotas were Aryans despite being dark skinned so by extension that would apply to all of us. He based this on the wild west shows popular in the late 1800's being mostly Lakota veterans of Little Bighorn. Somehow I doubt he would have considered us Mojaves Aryans though our tribe doesn't get glorified in Vinewood as much."

"Well you just said it..." Eddie said in a calm voice. "Even though most of America is white, that wasn't always the case. What makes more sense for a German leader. To identify in a wild west story, the plight of the invaded people or the people doing the invading?"

"You tell me..." Neto said. "He tried to remove people from his country but his army invaded a lot too."

"Right only to cleanse Europe of who he considered enemies. A lot of the territories even outside Germany had small German minorities. if we were so anti Native American, tell me why did even Nazi propaganda write a movie portraying Tecumseh as a hero against white invaders?"

"Yeah but a lot of these movies all of them had Germans playing Natives..." Protested Jose. "And even nowadays a lot of pow wow enthusiasts are German they have their own fake pow wows in Germany. You gonna tell me that's honoring us you might as well say the sports mascots are."

"I'm not saying that. But it was a different time. Obviously most movies didn't use Indian actors. And when they did it was very rare. Like Jesse Cornplater. My point though is maybe Hitler would have turned on you maybe not. But in the case of Uncle Sam you KNOW he would and he has. That's the difference. Now your side and my side hates each other too but the truth is you hate them maybe even more than we do because you have to live next door to them more than us."

"Can we move on from this bullshit?" Asked Cobb. Eddie grinned. "I find this debate refreshing myself...I'll just say one last thing about that. If the Nazs were as racist as the US said it is, why were there Arabs and Asians fighting on the German side at Normandy? I'm not just talking North Africa. At goddamn D Day. Hitler considered the Japanese honorary Aryans and he considered the Chinese to be better than Germany as far as how long they been civilized. Does that sound like a complete white supremacist?" He paused a second and continued.

"He accepted Japanese as equals yet he considered white Slavic people inferior. I don't entirely agree with that sentiment about Slavs but again, different time period. The German Army during World War II was a hell of a lot more ethnically diverse than the United States was even though the US had more minorities. You sure as hell didn't have that much diversity in Britain or Russia either. The Brits treated black soldiers like shit, the Irish soldiers like shit. Russians had anti semitism even while it was against Soviet policy. I'm just saying there's a bigger picture here. There was even blacks in the Wermahct. German anthropologists went to the reservation because of Choctaw code talkers used against us before. You can understand that, right? From a strictly survivalist standpoint, not wanting to get fucked over again. If he considered Lakotas Aryans maybe he just meant honorary Aryans."

"I just want to say one thing about those German movies. Whether or not Hitler was well meaning..." Jose began, "I saw one movie where they had a chief that was supposed to be chief of both the Apache and Navajo. For those of you who are uh...lighter complexioned...that's like being the leader of both France and Belgium at the same time. Just FYI."

Just then another car pulled up. A gray Admiral. Neto in annoyance demanded, "What the fuck...?" Ivan and Vasily got out as well as two men of Armenian descent. "You were behind this?" Neto asked. Ivan shook his head. "Not was more of a measure to ensure that inmates of Russian descent born in America, San Andreas, stay safe under the Vanguard's protection. Plus with you and the Armenians well I figure it was a safe go between for us and you and them."

"You already have that rule in the pinta, guero..." Culebra stated. "That is true but you forget most of the foreign born ones end up with the Others. Thats not very safe these days. Grisha arranged to make it so that we get placed in the white car too."

"Yeah? Given who your woman is you want to play with that fire?" Neto asked his eyebrows raised in curiosity. "Oh now don't you worry about him..." Eddie said in a sick and low tone. "i'd never do anything to harm his sweet...brown..Sugar..." He had an evil grin. "Don't call her that..." Warned Ivan. "And Neto, I don't see your problem. I've been doing you plenty of favors with those Americansky pigs in New Arcadia. Grisha made a deal that Boris had not signed off on. But it was a deal that makes sense. The white car in prison is more powerful than being with Others. Paul must have sensed as much when he had the Native population get reprogrammed with the South Siders."

"Hell, we could have told you that..." Cobb said. "There's a bunch of niggers in the San Andrean penal system but as a population they're unorganized. So any Indians that were trying to have protection based on who they program with...it might be the same allies anyway but they should consider themselves allied with the Northsiders if Southside wasn't an option. It's better to have that as your main power than rutterless toads..." He spat tobacco juice out and said, "But a farmer is farmer and I gotta say...you southern boys sure fuckin called it when you started hating them. I can see why..."

"There is one problem you're all gonna have though..." Eddie stated with his arms folded. "The Asian population. Now look...we aint calling off any hits on the Ballas other than your old lady I promise you she gets a pass. But you're allies with the Tiny Psychos and that's gonna be a major problem for me. I need some kind of insurance they don't get in our way."

"Why should I call them off?" Demanded Baba Yaga. "You're not cutting my friends in Davis any slack. In fact, I heard about that stabbing you did. You're lucky they didn't kill you. You can't go to Davis yourself but they can go to any neighborhood of yours and fuck you up"

"I invite them to try. But the thing is...it looks bad if we're allied with you and you're allied with the Psychos. I'll tell you what, Boogeyman. Why don't you try and make sure the Psychos back off of you make a genuine effort and it still doesn't go through, I'll still make sure the brothers inside look after all your Russians. Though I might be asking you to do too much either way. I know its a fine line because frankly, with this war between Boris and Grisha, it makes me wonder if your family is more trouble than they're worth."

"Boris Markovich is the patriarch of the family..." Ivan said. "Grisha is nothing more than a brat trying to stage a coup. You'd do well to side with the side who is going to win."

"Be that as it may, I think whatever happens between you and the Cambodians, it doesn't matter because you're already playing both sides by trying to negotiate with us while also still being a friend to the Ballers."

An MH 1 member spat, "Fuckin nigger loving Ruskie..." Eddie told the skinhead, "Phil! That's enough, man."

Neto had a realization about the scenario even though he was not a Baller, an Aryan or a Psycho. "Maybe it doesn't matter what the Psychos do. They can support Ivan he can support them maybe he just has to agree not to help either side against each other if they fight."

Helgada also had something to say about it. "If you look at what's gone down anyway between the Vanguard and the Asian gangsters, man it's mostly been the Da Nang Boyz more than the Psychos anyway. They're the ones with motive for it. They're friends with Lamar, they're friends with the Samoan vatos, and because of what dealings that one lady had and cause of Ivan, now the Ballas are involved in it too."

"See..." Eddie said, "I know you killed some of my men at the Beach. The reason you're not dead though is I'd rather reach out to you than Mai. I don't think we'd have any common ground plus your father isn't the shot caller of the Markovich Family the way her father is the Da Nangs. I also know there are or there were South Siders from Davis involved in that fuck up. They either need to be punished or at least it needs to be made sure it doesn't happen again."

Eddie then stepped forward offering his hand to Ivan. "i got a plan, friend. I even know about the trouble you both been having with the New Arcadian gangsters. We'd be willing to reach out to a few boys I know in the federal pen out there who have guys on the street."

Ivan sighed shaking his hand taking a cue from Neto in terms of being willing to use Aryans as cannon fodder but at the same time, he was of the mind that he was better at playing the long game than the Mexican national was. He just hoped it wouldn't come back to bite him in the ass.

Two Hours Later

Neto found himself in h Los Santos with Jose, as well as Lista, Troubles, and El Pavo plus Helgada. Neto eyed H Bomb and Big Sway. "You wanted to meet. You wanted to talk. Speak you business. We got other shit to attend to."

"I heard you were meeting with the A..." Accused H Bomb. "I got sources...I want to know. Is it out of genuine hate more for us than them or is it a partnership of mutual enemies?"

"You did time in prison. And unlike me it was a San Andrean prison. I did my homework on you."

"Yeah and I did the same. I'm surprised a man that snorts as much meth as you do can function so well on the streets let alone run an empire. You know the motherfucker you making a deal with...if you making one at all...he rapes and kills women I know you aint down with that what I hear. So why be down with him?"

"Who is your source?" Asked Neto. The black Muslim chuckled. "Yeah, right. I tell you that you'd just kill them..." Neto's mood went dar but he hid it for the moment and he knew it meant somebody from his inner circle or at leat a hang around because nobody black had been there. "Fair enough..."

"Your boy Oso that dude who was all over the news with the killings guy who became a Vago...he used to be friends with my homegirl G Note. One of the people Eddie raped. He might feel some kind of way about black people now cause some of us betrayed him but you really think he'd be okay with you being cool with the peckerwood that killed his old friend like that?"

"He wouldn't give a shit. They weren't friends anymore when she died. Besides, what evidence do you have?"

"I could take you to my cri right now and show you. The evidence is on video."

"Let's say I did believe you and I saw the video and it proved El Guero is a rapist. I might kill him but it won't make me friends with you and it won't make me care about G Note. I feel nothing for her or her pain. It means nothing to me."

"Man, you really are one cold motherfucker man don't you got a family?" Sway growled. "You know you Ese's look down on niggas but you got your whole gang structure in prison from us."

"That's not what some of the mayates in prison have observed that are veteranos n the game have said...our prison shit and most of our cliquas pre date the Families and Ballas."

"Homie, your shit started in 1957..." Bomb said. "You wasn't no united front before that it was just smaller barrios but there were black gangs in the forties."

"Interesting. Name one that pre dated World War 2. Or World War 1. That is still around."

"Besides, even if you win at that, what do you really win?" Sway asked. "You want to be the culture that perfected gang banging? I mean across the world what you think is more known dominating the world Hip Hop or youngins saying homes? It's lback culture that dominates world wide. You got cholos that bump hip hop."

"In Mexico, it's Rock and Cumbia..." Neto said. "Chicanos are looked upon as trashy for enjoying Hip Hop..."

El Pavo snickered. "You mean black culture promoted by white boys and Jewish managers. Tell the whole truth. It's like when you fools say we copied the Zoot Suit from you. Cause of jazz musicians when we're the ones who were in riots over it the riots that mattered. You want to get technical,, the white boys popularized it if anything since they're the ones that made the fuckin clothes. Try again, nigger."

"Man, if this wetback doesn't watch his motherfuckin mouth..." A 165th street Families youngster growled.

"You'll do jack shit... Shot back Pavo. "You think I never seen a Tranny before? We got you all over La Playa. And BURIED there too."

"Fuck you, beaners! Niggas run LS! You frog looking bitches don't run shit but the orange selling game!"

"Cool story, pinnochio..." Pavo shot back. "Tu sabes que I got a theory. Maybe instead of their nose growing they lie, when tintos lie their lips grow. That's why you got the biggest lips!"

Neto shot him a look to get silence.

"When we talk business we talk business..." Neto said. "When we talk gangster shit we talk gangster shit. You tintos are the ones that like to hop back and forth between the two when saying who is better when it turns out you're being outclassed. This is why arguing...even debating with a mayate is a waste of time. You always move the goal post. You never admit to anybody else's points, you never admit when you're wrong"

"And you do?" H Bomb asked.

"Well...I had three room mates. Trusted three room mates. And I was wrong to trust two of them. How does that sound for admitting shit?"

"That on you..i till don't know why you taking up for Eddie. He's a rapist."

"So are a lot of the black inmates in the black car in prison. You don't clean house for shit. I've seen it in Arizona too. You'll fight for them based on race and not care what he did. It didn't happen that way for calls Mexicans the culture that has a lot of rape but we take them off the yard when we're inside. Now that's neither here nor there. I don't trust Eddie but I don't trust you. All we did was meet him we didnt agree to shit. I did the same here. You want to talk to somebody talk to Ivan. That's the one you'd be more interested in. Why a white Russian with a black woman met with the AV."

He saw a flash of anger in H Bomb's eyes. "You know what? I will. Soon as we're done here. But as for prison, we're at a disadvantage I mean they don't put all blacks together in a San Andreas prison. You got niggas from the Rancho car, Strawberry, Davis, it's by cities and hoods. Ya'll they just put out there like that and it don't matter and with whites they do the same shit."

The more belligerent Families soldier also added, "Plus Mexicans and white boys be snitching on they ops. They cheating."

H Bomb said, "Nah lil homie I'll school you on what that's about. We'll talk about that later..."

"What do you really want here?" Neto demanded. "Can you agree to a cease fire between our side and yours at least in West Los Santos? That's where the white boss are and we want to get at them if you gonna beef with us regardless I'd just say whyn ot just be enemies with both of us and help neither. I guess Im asking either fight us both business as usual or stay out of it. The prison rules don't apply out here I aint got BGA at my side, and most of these punks are MH 1 not even Vanguard... we don't need interference. If you still want it with us, that's fine let's shoot it out in South LS. Do what we always do. Just keep it 100 but keep it 50. If you're gonna kill Families or whoever all I ask is do it on your own don't partner up with them."

"If I decide anything it'll be based on what I decide. You might be older than me, H Bomb but you're not in charge of me. Onda gives me more control on the streets than your status as a Familia OG does. I'm gonna look into what you claimed..." Even if Loony Hood 165th would be one of the harder Families sets if we had to fight them full on...a lot of carnales could potentially get kill Better to play this safe...both sides against each other

Helgada said, "Hey compa, I actually know this dude from way back. You mind if I go with him to his house and check out what he says?" Neto looked hard at the Azteca OG. "It's your neighborhood now...but be careful."

"Really, you should be coming with us then..." Bomb said. "Why waste time and resources on trying to find out what I can show you in five minutes? And your boy might be different from prison now and you might not care about her. Cartel dudes hardly do care when women get smoked. But can you say the same for your boy if he was to see the shit I got? Cause I aint the one that wronged him and neither is G Note. It's easy to forget that when you in rage. I never met the dude but if even just seeing what that motherfucker did to her doesn't make him sick to his stomach, then we're as wrong about him and who he was as he was about us."

"Oso aint gonna see it. And I'm not goin to your chante. Helgada will go."

Helgada nodded.'Orale..."

3rd Ward

Four Days Later

A major drug dealer nicknamed Scooby who worked for Marrick was in church watching his little brother get baptized. He was fifteen years old and the whole family had come felt weird in the house of God as he had bodied five men in his life time and shot four more and he hadn't confessed because he was Baptist not Catholic. Or at least he was raised to be. He'd never had a choice.

His brother Demarcus Barry was the one getting baptized and he had stayed out of trouble. Nobody knew this either but he had been trying to find a way to start slinging drugs in the new Roman owned clubs. He had even dressed in more punk style clothes but he wasn't feeling it. Marcus Roman had once quizzically, at his bar asked him what was his favorite song he could name that was Rock And Roll. Scooby had said Welcome To The Jungle. While it was not modern day punk or hardcore music, it seemed to at least stave off the Roman brother enough that he didn't ask anything further on that matter.

Mostly, he got the feeling that Scooby was trying to fit into a scene that wasn't his.

Outside of the church, four armed Caucasian men were approaching, all of them in variations of Satanic masks. The song I'm Gonna Give You Aids by Anal Cunt blasted. They got out and kicked in the door. The first AV member, Bernard Albach, a Caucasian male with short curly blonde hair standing 5'9 150 lbs, with piercing blue eyes who had a felony hate crime record after defacing the grave of a black soldier, carried a Benelli M3.

A few of Scooby's friends were there in the back row and readied their firearms but Bernard hit one with dread locks and a Rick Ross beard wearing a black jacket with white stripes on the side and skinny jeans coughed blood as the blast hit him in the chest. "SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST!" He roared. "DARWIN TOLD US YOU'D FAIL!" The second gang member was oddly enough, named Tyrone. Tyrone Bellefeuille.

Fellow Aryans as well as blacks had given him shit about it but he was always explaining it was not a black name but instead, an Irish name that many blacks for whatever reason, chose to name their kids. The name itself had been popularized by a white actor to begin with.

Tyrone stood six feet and had brown hair and gray eyes and brown stubble and was in his late twenties. He carried an MP5 with a scope on it and he aimed for a gangster with a shaved head. The gang member was hit with sixteen rounds in the chest while another ten hit the pews. There were screams all around. The third AV member was Dwight Allard. He was a red headed male with brown eyes and somewhat tan skin and brown eyes suggesting he was possibly Southern European owing his swarthier complexion to Mediterranean blood.

He had two Glock 19's which he used to shoot the preacher. He fired four rounds from each pistol. The preacher, a black male aged fifty nine, Reverend Jeremiah Asselineau, fell over clutching at his bloody wounds screaming. The last of the four carried two .357's. He was a white male with pale skin for the Louisianian weather and truthfully had been a goth most of his life and had not been an AV affiliate until prison. He had tried to shoot his High School up but had been caught with a Beretta before he could.

He had cold blue eyes and though the mask concealed it, he had pinkish breakouts on his face from meth use. The meth he preferred came from Sandy Shores, San Andreas, which he had been smoking for two years. He stood five eleven and he was aged twenty three. On his elbows were spiderweb tattoos, on his right forearm a swastika, on his right arm some kind of Nordic rune symbol. His name was Terrance "Terry" Sosa.

He aimed for the dealer's mother and sister firing both. He hit the mother and the sister. The mother fell screaming as the round hit her right elbow exposing the bone. The sister fell with a round in the right side of her stomach. Scooby returned fire with a Glock 22 striking Benard with three rounds one in the right arm one in the chest and one in the right hip. The Aryan cried out falling over but the shotgun went off as he fell and he struck Scooby in his left calf. He cried out in pain.

"Good a place as any, right?" Asked Tyrone as he aimed to finish the dealer off. "Fuck you, bitch I'll kill your whole family You fuckin white..." Tyrone fired striking him between the eyes. The other two skinheads had killed everybody except the boy being baptized.

"You Baptized?" Demanded Sosa, his thick Red Stick accent intimidating. "Y...yes...it just happened..."

"Good...then you're ready to go home to the Lord. I mean I think it's all bullshit that's why I got this..." He lifted up an arm sleeve to show the last tattoo he had gotten. An upside down cross. "But whatever floats your boat. If Jesus is real it's probably better you go out after baptism. Probably all niggers should before they go back to their old ways this way more of you would go to heaven."

The truth was, while it wasn't true every racist gang member had been beaten up by the race they hated, Sosa himself had. Not just because of his race but his music taste when he had gone to a mostly Hip Hop school. He had spent the last several years getting vengeance on any he could. He had even met one of his bullies in school when he went to prison and had stabbed the man but to his anger he had not killed him. He had only cut him to the point he needed his left kidney taken out.

The other two AV members went up and grabbed the boy and shoved him down to the Baptist water. "Do you accept the lord and savior Jesus Christ into your heart?!" The kid cried, "Yes!" They shoved him under the water for thirty seconds then pulled him up sputtering and gasping. "Do you reject Satan and all his false promises?!" Demanded Tyrone. "Y...y..."

"What's that? Can't hear ya, boy!"

"Y.. ...please..."

"With that confession I baptize you in the name of the father the son and the holy Ghost. And you're gonna have that in common with the last one. Well...half of it..."

Dwight chuckled. "Shit in my house we called the Holy Trinity, daddy junior and spook!" They proceeded to drown the teenager in the water and left him there. "AMEN!" They carried their wounded friend out. "We gotta get him some help man, that asshole Scooby shot him up good."

"Yeah...we gotta go to the 'Base' got no choice."

"But that's like ten miles outta the way!"

"No choice. Can't take him to the ER."

Ivan

Middle Park East, Algonquin, Liberty City

With Packie in jail, this let him out of their little equation in Liberty City and abroad but Ivan had found out just where Patrick was going to be. He had Vasily there as well. Through some calls Neto also made to the prison system in Liberty State's federal pen, he was also able to learn of some Aztecas from Bohan who could be of some use. In fact, he had known one of them back in Mexico despite most of them being from Puebla and Neto being from Yucatan and living much of his life in Chiapas and later being a traveler of the different states.

Ivan had Dwayne with him even. Packie had said the Uptown gangster could be trusted. He had eight gang members with him. Four of whom, he did not introduce he only introduced the ones with him. The first was a black male with dark skin and a shaved head standing at five foot six wearing a puffy black jacket, laced up Hinterlands, baggy stonewashed blue jeans and a silver stud earring.

His name was Lawrence Wallace but people in North Holland called him Wallah. He had one shot a member of the Spanish Lords over a dispute about a corner in East Holland. He had gone to prison at the age of seventeen and done six years for second degree murder. He was now twenty three years old. He'd been a baby g when Dwayne and Playboy X had their disputes. Too young to understand it and in the end he got on the side of the victor.

Next was Jai Diaz, a black Puerto Rican with cornrows and though he was friends with a lot of the Spanish Lords he had grown up with, he had never joined. He had narrow beady brown eyes and he wore a red and white Hip Hop style track jacket and black baggy jeans and red Eris sneakers. He carried a Mac-10 on him. He stood five foot eight. Last was a gang member named Jerod X. Ivan was pretty sure he was either a member of the Nation of Islam or possibly a 5 though his continued involvement in criminal acts made the latter more likely.

His hair was in a mini afro and he wore a white crisp t shirt with baggy blue jeans and Hinterlands similar to what Wallah was except Wahllah had brown ones while his were black. He carried a .50 Desert Eagle. "Yo D, man..." Stated Wallah. "Why we fucking with these white niggas, man? Bad enough you had dealings with that Irish motherfucker. You saw they booked his ass for them mob murders right how do you know he aint gonna sing on you?"

"Packie aint like that. His family is straight up legit, son."

"Nah, I'm with Wallah on this one, God. I aint trusting these devils, man. Remember how Clarence Little went out? And they say it was a white cat did it. It's one thing you got us working with Mexicans and Colombians I can live with that but you got us fuckin with these Russian cats..."

"Playboy aint the one running this shit he hasn't been for a long time..." Dwayne said. "And don't think I aint know he's one of you with that X shit on his name. When I knew him he was just Playboy X."

"Yo that's just hearsay, b..." Stated Jai. "You really believe some blanqito lit up Clarence? I know it was really you, man. Aint no way that nigga the one that lit up Playboy...I don't care how crazy them slavs think they are they aint running up in the 'jects like that."

"Playboy is dead...move on..." Dwayne said. "We're here on business you wanna get paid fall in line, son!"

Ivan stated, "If we're done arguing we need to get a move on..."

"You got a plan?" Jai. "Yes. We're tailing the Sicilians through Little Italy. They're headed to East Holland. We've got some...friends of friends. The Pocos Pero Locos. They contacted some of their Colombian friends to come and help with this Italian and Dominican problem. The Mexicans and Colombians have a fair chunk of the power in the city but they do not like that the Dominicans, the Russians and Sicilians have any power left at all. Plus there is Kenny Petrovic. He may or may not be there but his men will be."

Ivan then left the black gangsters who headed in the opposite direction back to their respective cars.

They were on their way. Ivan had an AK-74. Gordon had upgraded to an AA-12. Dwayne had an Uzi, and Wallah had an Itcha 37 shotgun. Ivan rode in silence. Gordon broke it however saying, "You been paying attention to what's been happening? These fuckin guineas and their pawns have been killing our boys on the streets. Even just guys that were drinking buddies at the same bars."

Ivan chuckled. "For a people said to have it so together and be so organized and disciplined to do this shows bad taste. The mob is in decline. This is their twighlight years. I can't speak to your own survival, Gordon. The Irish mob doesn't look like it has much time left. You were supposed to have died out in the late 80's. You can do damage to the Commission but they can always rebuild and recover better than you. They always had more power. It was never in your favor except maybe in the early 1900's."

"You're fuckin telling me it is!" Gordon exclaimed. "I used to hate Gerry's stories but now? I'd give anything to hear what it was like. Or be around for it. Even if the end is just around the corner and it always was. Ah shit...to be alive in the days of the Five Points gang days..."

""What about us in North Holland? They gentrifying the neighborhood, son. Aint the same Uptown I knew from '98 and I aint sure what this shit will be like in another two years. I don't know what's gonna die first. Me or the Uptown I knew and loved..."

"No matter how much they gentrify it..." Ivan said expressing his opinion, "North Holland still has a stigma to it and a social significance echoed through history dating back to the early 1900's. The North Holland Rennesance to now...so you might see more upper lass residents and some areas may get better. But it will never be fully safe and it will never be without some poverty and as long as that's true, there will be men like you. People trying to allivieate poverty the only way they know how."

"And you're saying the guidos just get to walk away unscathed?" Growled Gordon. "No. If they don't die violent deaths they will die of natural causes. Who honestly wants to be in the mob anymore even young Italians? If the Irish gangster from the Upper West Side, or the Mexican cholo in East Los Santos in the 90's or the Cubans or Colombian drug czars in Vice City in the 80's are antiquated, how much more so is the Sicilian man with a thick Broker accent shaking down businesses?

Before long, they arrived. There was five Sicilians, seven Dominicans, plus ten Albanian gangsters, eight Petrovic goons, and five members of the Jewish Mob. In addition to this was also six also had seven members of the Spanish Lords. Somehow, despite rivalry, Marco had convinced them it was in their best interest to show up.

Ivan got out and started firing. He let twenty rounds hit three of the Serbians fall. The gang members returned fire. Dwayne sprayed twenty two rounds striking two Serbians and one of the Jewish mobsters. Gordon came out firing as well striking a Dominican gang member. The Dominicans laid back heavy fire but they were flanked by eight members of Pocos Pero Locos. They struck three Dominicans down and Marco was among them but he was not hit. He returned fire once he took up an AK-74 striking one of the Paisa gang members in the stomach.

The next red and green clad gang member, a Mexican man born in Puebla wearing a green and red flannel plaid jacket and a red and white bandanna a dark skinned nearly fully Indigenous man. He was nicknamed El Honcho. He had been one of the original gang members from PPL having arrived in Liberty City in the summer of had started off just to work but the hostility of the city towards Mexicans had drawn them into gang membership.

He took one round from Marco in the left arm but even as he ducked down wounded behind a gray Slamvan he yelled back, "Chingate, Oscar! ¡Sé que ese es tu verdadero nombre! ¿No me recuerdas, hijo de puta? ¡Mataste a mi compa, Pedro en el 2007, así que yo y mis compadres sacamos a tu chico, Dante Avilez! ¡Cabalgata roja, ocho tiros al frente dos a la cabeza! ¡Tú y los señores españoles nos cagaron demasiadas veces cuando llegamos a esta ciudad! ¿Suena alguna campana?" He fired the remainder of his Assault Rifle from cover and he missed Marco but he hit two Trinity's with him.

The first of which was a tri racial man with curly hair and almond colored skin who wore a dark green bandanna patterned sweater and wore a dark blue bandanna over his face and a red one over the top half. His name was Simon Gonzales originally from Nothwood who was aged twenty seven and had done four years in Alderney. He fell with four rounds in the center of his chest. The other gang member was Michelle Cardena a woman with light brown skin and black hair and brown eyes who looked like she could be a model and she had distant African and Taino ancestry that was enough to give her an "Exotic" look but she was mostly of Spanish heritage and her darker features ere possibly owed to her Spanish forefathers coming to the western hemisphere from Andalusia.

She was twenty three years old and had been in several abusive relationships and though proud of her Dominican ancestry as well as Colombian, she also called herself a proud American. She was known to be a little loose around the neighborhood sometimes even fucking men who were not from her gang but she was also a fierce fighter and a heavy drinker. She was an attractive woman with heart shaped lips, she stood five foot five and was quite busty, her breasts were just one cup size short of being D's and she had a rather voluptuous bottom that she was always showing off in Daisy Duke shorts and she had often done car washes in the summer time in her East Holland neighborhood where she hailed from.

She fell with two rounds one in her left hip the other in her right leg. She cried out uncertain if she would live and had to crawl to safety. Marco ran out of rounds for his Assault Rifle but he picked off a P90 from the round dropped by a deceased Serbian. Gordon yelled, "I heard the name Oscar in there! Just so ya fuckin know I know who the true identity of your guinea butt buddy is, Marco! And his name aint CHARLIE. It should be something like Charleotte cause whenever that asshole tried to collect on my debts, he always lost a few more of his goons!"

Marco sneered yelling at El Honcho about Gordon. "Ese Gordon no es más que un mama guevo!"

(That Gordon is nothing more than a cocksucker)

Ivan spotted three of his Colombian compatriots. They were Colombians and members of the Parcero enforcement arm of the cartel from Urabá. The first was a curly haired mestizo man with light brown skin wearing a silk black shirt with white stripes and black slacks and white sude bucks. He was thirty three years old and good for half a dozen murders and had orchestrated twice that. His name was Lucas Rendon. He had kept Mexican gangs like the PPL who did not want to associate with Alfonso Vasquez or Martin Madrazo in cocaine in the Liberty City area.

Second was a rather tall man also of mestizo ancestry but triracial when his family went back far enough.

He was Goliath Valdez. He was a thirty six year old who though he hailed from Urabá, he had tried to fight rivals for control of Medellin. He had done a lot in the four years he'd been in Liberty City and had undermined operations for the Albanians, the Italians, the Yardies, and various crews on corners that controlled just one block. He had a reputation as an ogre among Dominicans in Broker.

The third was a Colombian American with medium brown skin and a buzz cut and while he was the accountant for the gang, well dressed in a black sports jacket and a gold shirt under it, he was handy with a gun. His name was Jesus Torres.

As five Trinity's kept them pinned down with Assault Rifle fire, Lucas lit a cocktail. "¿Cuál es la diferencia entre un haitiano y un dominicano?" He asked Goliath.

(What's the difference between a haitian and a Dominican?)

"No lo sé, hermano. Dígame usted"

(I don't know, bro you tell me)

"Fuego!" He threw it and it landed between the Trinity's and caught them all in the blast radius. They screamed with agony as the flames licked at their skin.

There was also two Aztecas who were now local to Bohan that Neto had said to get in touch with. Both were from his hometown. Casper and Mari. They were shooting it out with the Dominicans but while each had killed two, Mari took two bullets in the left arm from a Pavano goon.

Jai, Allah and Jerrod also managed to drop several Dominicans who arrived as backup. The shotgun toting North Holland gangster leveled the 37 at a Pavano associate and pulled teh trigger as the man had tried to flank him. He took off the right side of his face and his eyeball hung from a tendon and his jawline was exposed.

The Desert Eagle wielding black gangster fired three .50 rounds into a made man named Vinny Moretti. He hit him in the stomach and the third round pierced his spine with ease like a knife through butter. The black Puerto Rican gangster also let off a few hitting two Pavano soldiers as they got out of a black Admiral.

Dwayne sprayed down the other two with his SMG as they got out of the back and he wounded one and killed the other.

Ivan growled, "PATRICK!" He saw the serial killer had a Salvadoran marabunta member, a woman as a human shield. She had already taken three rounds and he had a knife to her throat but Ivan charged towards him aiming at him and firing. He killed her as she would have likely died anyway. He then grabbed the serial killer and hit him with a right cross to the face. He then picked him up and dragged him into an alley. Vasily was waiting. Vasily grinned. "We did some family research on you, my friend."

Ivan nodded. "Did you know one of your family members was a holocaust survivor? But you were not aware..." Ivan forced his sleeve up. Ivan then beckoned for the two Colombians, Golith and Lucas to com as well. Goliath had the tattoo gun a makeshift one. "So I heard about the baby..." Patrick taunted. "Did it cry before it croaked? Or did you? Or the ghetto whore?"

They held him down and began to tattoo the numbers under his arm. "NOBODY FUCKS WITH my woman or my child...you caused that shitstorm with Kenny Petrovic! Trust me it took days of torture but we found out!"

"I AM GOING TO FILET YOU AND BOTH OF THESE FUCKIN SPICS!" Growled Patrick as they forcefully put it in his skin. Finally, they were done. Ivan said, "You didn't have the balls to come at me directly so I won't be killing you myself either. Get this piece of shit outta here,..." The two Colombians tied Patrick up and gagged him and put him in the trunk of a red Cognesetti. Goliath stated, "We'll get him across the bridge to Alderney and take care of him."

Meanwhile, as Marco and Charlie were holding off the other members of Dwayne's crew, and had dropped three so far, Jerrod, Jai and Wahllah caught Charlie and Marco by surprise and jumped them and attempted to tie them up as well. They had help because of the Aztecas and the Marabunta members and the Bravta men that Ivan had brought and a few Irish goons. The men tried to physically repel them but they were outnumbered and overpowered.

The three North Holland Hustlers put the two bound and gagged men in the back of a silver Patriot. They then took off speeding towards the Humbolt River and all three bailed out and the ride crashed in. As they got up with their weapons they'd bailed with, and the Italian and Dominican were sinking, the three of them fired into the car with their remaining rounds. "Motherfucka...fuck the mob...this uptown, son!"

Neto

Tuxtla Gutiérrez, Chiapas, Mexico

Febuary, 10, 2016

He found himself with the Zapatistas back with Brujo and Tito and Culebra as well. He had tried to warn them and they had partially heeded his words. The men and the women were divided on it. The hombres believed him and he had shown the leadership what he had done but the women were stubborn, insisting upon staying because in this state, there was great poverty and they needed to be there for their gente. Neto told them it would be their funeral. They had intercepted when the attack was coming too and the military was on its way. These were desperate times, so desperate in fact, that the weapons that they had taken off the IAA, they weren't able to move them all to the Chiapas stockpile in time and he had no choice but to contact some people he had not seen in years for help promising them half the weapons.

He hadn't even they were alive still but as it turned out, they were. Tlayolotl was there. He greeted Neto with a hug. " Ikal Es bueno verte, compa. ¿Como has estado?"

(Ikal. It's good to see you, compa. How have you been?)

Neto sighed at the gay man. "Como la mierda Pero no importa. ¿Qué importa es que recibiste mi mensaje?"

(Like shit. But it doesn't matter. What matters is did you get my message? )

"Sí. Tú y Brujo siempre estuviste más loco que el resto de nosotros. Así que no me sorprende que tú y él estuvieran dispuestos a eso. Tito, me sorprendió."

(Yes. You and Brujo were always crazier than the rest of us. So it doesn't surprise me that you and him were up to that. Tito, I was surprised at.)

"Oye chingado No me eches la culpa por esta mierda. Los salvé a todos. Les dije a todos que salgan de aquí lo más lejos posible. El norte si pudieras y ¿qué haces? Te quedas en el lugar. Los gavachos y los isrealistas planeaban masacrarlos a todos."

(Hey, chingado! Don't put the blame on me for this shit. i saved all of you. I told you all to get out of here as far away as possible. The north if you could and what do you do? You stay in place. The gavachos and the Isrealis were planning to massacre all of you.)

"¿Qué esperabas hermano? ¿Para nosotros simplemente arrancar de raíz y dejar a las personas empobrecidas sin nadie a quien recurrir? Nos hemos estado asegurando de tener armas para defendernos cuando lleguen. Pero tienen más razones para ahora más que."

(What did you expect, brother? For us to just uproot and leave the impoverished people with nobody to turn to? We've been making sure we have weapons to defend ourselves if and when they they have more of a reason to now more than ever.)

Among the others who were talking to Neto were the other Zapatistas he had raided the Madrazo stash with and who had known Nenetl well. Antonia, Graciella, Moira, and Yatzil were also there.

Graciella stated with some anger in her voice, "Debes enfrentar el hecho, Ikal. Lupe está muerta ahora y su sangre está en tus manos. No puedes ir y venir entre ser un revolucionario y ser un gángster. Simplemente no funciona de esa manera."

(You must face the fact, Ikal. Lupe is dead now and his blood is on your hands. You can't go back and forth between being a revolutionary and being a gangster. It just doesn't work that way.)

"No, su sangre está en manos de las personas que lo mataron. ¡La agencia! Has tenido gente muriendo bajo tu vigilancia. ¡Si la sangre de Lupe está en mi mano, entonces sus manos están en la tuya!" Neto growled getting defensive.

(No, his blood is on the hands of the people that killed him. The agency! You have had people die under your watch. If Lupe's blood is on my hand then their hands are on yours!)

"Nosotros aceptamos eso. Llevamos a los muertos con nosotros dondequiera que vayamos. Honramos a los muertos y luchamos por los vivos," Moira insisted.

(We accept that. We carry the dead with us wherever we go. We honor the dead and fight for the living.)

Neto snapped, "¡No necesito escuchar esa mentira zapatista! ¿Dices que no soy mejor que los narcos que matamos? ¡Está bien! Porque para vencer a un monstruo debes convertirte en uno. El gran mito es que debes asegurarte de no convertirte en lo que luchas. Solo después de que termine de luchar, se supone que debo morir. Así es como es ... Pero vivo en el mundo real. Drogas, armas de fuego, robos ... ¡lo que sea que sea necesario para financiar la causa! ¿Crees que podemos financiar un ejército con salarios de trabajadores? ¿Crees que cada dólar que Tío Sam tiene que gastar es solo dinero de contribuyentes que trabajan arduamente y que nada de eso proviene de las drogas? He vivido en los Estados Unidos durante años. Aquí odiamos las drogas y queremos que los carteles se vayan, pero mientras el gringo quiera favores de la fiesta, eso no sucederá."

(I don't need to hear that Zapatista mantra bullshit! You say that I am no better than the narcos we kill? That's right! Because to beat a monster you must become one. The great myth is that you must make sure you don't become what you fight. Only after I am done fighting i am truly supposed to die. That's how it is.. But I live in the real world. Drugs, gun running, robbery...whatever means it takes to fund the cause! You think we can fund an army with workers wages? Do you think every dollar Uncle Sam has to spend is just money from hard working tax payers and that none of it is from drugs? I have lived in the United States for years. We hate drugs down here and want the cartels to go away but as long as the gringo wants party favors that won't happen.)

Yatzil replied, "Pero has vendido esa mierda a nuestra propia gente, Ikal. En Rancho. Centro Sur de Los Santos, por todas partes. Y lo usas tú mismo. No trates de negarlo. Puedo verlo. Nenetl no querría esto para ti y tu hijo tampoco."

(But you have sold that shit to our own people, Ikal. Up in Rancho. South Central Los Santos, all over. And you use it yourself. Don't try and deny it. I can see it. Nenetl wouldn't want this for you and neither would your son.)

Neto shook his head. "Él no querría nada y ella tampoco. Ella está muerta ... y en cuanto a mi hijo ... nuestro hijo ... si hay un mundo espiritual, incluso al otro lado, por lo que sabemos, tampoco crecerá. Él es un bebé para siempre, incluso su fantasma ... por eso en Dia de los muertos tenemos un día para inocentes."

(He wouldn't want anything and neither would she. She's dead...and as for my son...our son...if there's a spirit world, even there on the other side as far as we know he won't grow up either. He's a baby forever even his ghost...that's why on Day Of The Dead we have a day for innocents.)

Neto then chuckled. "Además dices nuestra gente? ¿Solo debes estar hablando de paisanos y paisanas como nosotros porque pensé que el procedimiento operativo estándar para las personas aquí abajo era odiar a los chicanos? Llamándolos pocho. Hay algo de tensión entre los paisas y los chicanos, pero si crees que es malo en Los Santos, ¡deberías haber visto el sistema de prisiones estatales de Arizona!"

(You say our people? You must be speaking of Paisanos and Paisanas like us. Isn't it standard operating procedure for us here to hate Chicanos? Calling them pochoThere's some tension between paisas and Chicanos but if you think it's bad in Los Santos you should have seen the Arizona state prison system!)

"Eso podría ser lo que algunos de nosotros pensamos allá afuera y aquí, pero no somos como el ciudadano promedio. Vemos la necesidad de unir a nuestra gente. Conociste a algunos que eran personas de la prisión y que vieron más allá de la mierda," Replied Antonia with some annoyance and frustration at his stubborness.

(That might be how some of us think out there and here but we're not like the average citizen. We see the need for uniting our people. You met some who were decet people n prison who saw beyond the bullshit.)

"Si, lo hice. ¡Y eran pinche pandilleros!" He protested.

(Yeah I did and they were fucking gangsters!)

The green eyed Native looked at him and said, "Ikal, estás tan metido en este dios de la persona muerta, esta identidad de cartel retorcida que tienes. Que Martin Madrazo, tu peor enemigo te dio! No importa si vas por esto por el dios de la muerte maya o por el dios de la muerte azteca o incluso por la versión de santo católico por el que pasan los sicarios. ¡Estás más preocupado por la muerte que por la vida! ¿Cuándo vas a ser tan apasionado por vivir como lo eres por los moribundos y los muertos y por hacer que mueran más personas?"

(Ikal, you are so into this god of the dead persona this twisted cartel identity you have. That Martin Madrazo, your worst enemy gave you! It doesn't matter if you are going by this for the Mayan death god or the Aztec death god or even the Catholic saint version the Sicarios go by. You are more concerned with death than life! When are you going to be as passionate about living as you are about the dying and the dead and you causing more people to die?)

The one other maleZapatista besides Neto since Tito, Brujo and Culebra were setting up a perimeter in case the attack they expected came, also spoke up in his defense. "Para ser justos, también hemos matado personas, Taiyari ..." The gay Zapatista said calling Maria by her Indigenous name.

(To be fair, we've killed people too Tairari)

Behind him, he heard a female voice who had been listening in from the shadows. It was none other than Emiliana! The same woman who had helped him and served with him in the ARmy all those years ago when they were raiding cartel strongholds only for him to find out she had defectd to the Zapatistas. "

"Eso es diferente, hermano. Sabes que es diferente. Matamos a los soldados del gobierno que no quieren que los indígenas tengan ninguna agencia para nosotros mismos. Admito que soy una mestiza de sangre y no sabía nada de mis propias raíces antes de unirme. Pero creo que tienes razón, creo que Neto ... ya que sabía que él había ido demasiado lejos."

(That's different, brother. You know it's different. We kill the government soldiers who don't want Indigenous people to have any agency for ourselves. I'll admit I am a mestiza bloodwise and I did not know about my own roots before joining. But I think you are right I think Neto...as I knew him has gone too far off the deep end. )

Neto snarled, "De verdad emiliana? Podría haber matado a muchos de nuestra propia raza. Acabo de hacer un poco de mierda en el área de la bahía, de hecho. También he matado a innumerables ceros. La mayoría de ellos eran malos, pero muchos no eran peores que yo, no eran todos traficantes de personas, muchos de ellos eran simplemente asesinos que hacían dinero de la única forma en que sabían cómo hacerlo y de la única manera disponible. Pero también maté a esos agentes de ICE y liberé a muchas de las familias que esos imbéciles habrían tratado de separar entre sí. He apuñalado a miembros de Aryan Vanguard en la prisión estatal de Arizona. He matado a policías racistas. ¡Tal vez me vaya mal, pero lo estoy haciendo bien! No pretendo ser nada más que una fuerza oscura, pero soy nessecary. Alguien tiene que hacer los trabajos que usted no hará. ¡El trabajo sucio! ¡Las cosas que tenía que hacer contra los estadounidenses y los isrealistas que estaban conspirando contra ti y tú todavía lo eres! ¿Por qué discutes conmigo? ¡Deberías estar evacuando a todos!"

(Really Emiliana? I could have killed many of our own race. I've just done some shit in the Bay Area, in fact.I've also killed innumerable of them were bad, but many were not. Worse than me, they were not all human traffickers, many of them were just murderers who made money the only way they knew how to do it and the only way available, but I also killed those ICE agents and freed many of the families that these imbeciles would have tried to separate from each other, I've stabbed members of Aryan Vanguard in the Arizona state prison, I've killed racist cops, maybe I'm doing bad things, but I'm doing good with it! I n't pretend to be anything more than A dark force, but I'm necessary Someone has to do the jobs you will not do Dirty work The things you had to do against the Americans and the Israelis who were conspiring against you still are! Why do you argue with me? You should be evacuating everyone!)

"De acuerdo, Ikal ... haremos lo qurre digas tan pronto como termine la cena, pero debemos ser sutiles y usar la cobertura de la noche. Si los federales ven que muchos de nosotros nos movemos a la vez, eso levantará sospechas."

(All right, Ikal ... we'll do what you say as soon as dinner is over but we need to be subtle and use the cover of night. If the federals see too much of us moving at once that will raise suspicions.)

The Zapatista then had a question for Neto. "Dime, mi viejo amigo. Te ves a ti mismo como un equilibrio entre los matones en los Estados Unidos y los revolucionarios. En lugar de hablar de la manera académica que hacen algunos activistas latinoamericanos en los campus universitarios de Estados Unidos, hablas en las calles. Esto lo puedo respetar. Pero dime, compa. Tus amigos en los aztecas e incluso en La Onda ... ¿cómo se equilibra la forma en que se ve a un hombre como yo entre las pandillas en lugar de que me hayas abrazado como a un hermano como a cualquier otro durante nuestro tiempo en la causa? ? Seguramente, ¿esto va en contra de tu código de machismo?"

(Tell me, my old friend. You see yourself as a balance between the matones in the United States and revolutionaries. Rather than speak in the academic way that some Latin American activists do in the college campuses in America, you speak in the ways of the streets. This I can respect. But tell me, compa. Your friends in the Aztecas and even La Onda...how do you balance out the way a man like me is seen among the gangs as opposed to you having embraced me as a brother the same as anybody else during our time in the cause? Surely, this goes against your code of machismo?)

The woman who like him was also Mayan also spoke up. "Y no pienses, porque te has follado a dos mujeres al mismo tiempo, esto significa que eres un aliado de la homosexualidad. Muchos hombres heterosexuales tienen esa fantasía, pero esto no se extiende a los hombres o mujeres homosexuales, solo se aplicaría a las mujeres bisexuales."

(And don't think because you have fucked two women at the same time this means you are an ally of homosexuality. Many straight men have that fantasy but this does not extend to gay men or women it would only apply to bisexual women.)

Neto respected the man a great deal and did not like to use words that would offend him but he knew that the man would know if he was pulling punches just because they were friends and he would respect him less.. "Siempre he odiado a los maricones. Nunca lo he endulzado antes de que no empiece ahora. Así fue como crecí en las calles. Pero admito que te conocí, eras diferente, no solo del hombre gay promedio en este país, sino más aún en los Estados Unidos. Nunca te vi usando mariquitas como lo hacen los degenerados. Nunca te vi en los chicos sin asco. No tienes esa forma femenina de hablar con la falsa luz que muchos de ellos tienen. Para mí, eso suena falso porque también he visto gays que tienen voces masculinas normales que, si esto es cierto, me demuestran que los otros solo están intentando ser lo que no son. Pero también me doy cuenta de que los chingados de Marabunta que hicieron lo que me hicieron a mí ... también actuaron de manera machista y todavía cometieron un acto homosexual. Pero luché para resistirlo. Nunca podría respetar a un hombre que lo había hecho voluntariamente en la cárcel solo para sobrevivir. Entonces me di cuenta de algo, hombre. Todas las culturas tienen homosexualidad. Pero son los gueritos los que hacen la mierda peluda. Con todos los estereotipos. Tener mujeres heterosexuales como mejores amigas y tratarlas como mierda con sus comentarios malintencionados Algunos podrían decir que soy un maricón por haber tenido eso, pero sucedió cuando era adolescente y en las calles no en la cárcel."

(I've always hated faggots. I've never sugarcoated it before I won't start now. It was how I grew up in the streets. But I'll admit meeting you you were different not only from the average gay man in this country but even more so in the United States. I never saw you wearing daisy dukes the way those degenerates up there do. I never saw you in assless chaps. You don't have that put on feminine way of speaking with the fake lisp that a lot of them have. To me that sounds fake because I've also seen gays who have normal masculine voices which if this is true, proves to me the other ones are just trying to be what they aren't. But I also realize that those chingados from Marabunta who did what they did to me...they acted macho too and they still commited a homosexual act. But I fought to resist it. I could never respect a man who had donethat willingly in prison just to survive. Then I realized something, hombre. All cultures have homosexuality. But it's the gueritos that do the faggy shit. With all the stereotypes. Having straight women for best friends and treating them like shit with their bitchy comments. Some might say I'm a faggot for ever having had that happen but it happened when I was a teenager and on the streets not in prison.)

Antonia folded her ams. "Veo. Pero, ¿no indican las reglas de su pandilla de la prisión que alguien que haya sido violado en el pasado que haya sido miembro ... si fueran descubiertos, serían asesinados por haber sido puto de alguien?"

(I see. But doesn't the rules of your prison gang state that anybody who had been raped in the past inside who had been a member...if they were found out they would be killed for having been somebodys bitch?)

"Onda es una pandilla de prisión. Nunca sucedió eso en la cárcel y si bien podría esperarse que hubiera luchado contra ellos, me superaron en número. Puede que no haya un precedente para lo que les sucede a los vatos que tuvieron que suceder cuando era niño, pero incluso si existiera y trataran de pegarme, sería demasiado costoso. Los de allí que me igualan en brutalidad no están en las calles y cualquier soldado que envíen conmigo no sería rival. Además, muchos carnales fueron abusados cuando eran niños antes de unirse, lo que era diferente. No saben qué me pasó con eso, pero eso no importa. Las cárceles de adultos son más peligrosas. Y sobreviví con mi virilidad intacta, incluso si no salí de México con mi infancia intacta. Entonces, ¿creo en atacar a vatos como tú? Chale Pero los putos en el norte son juego limpio. Nos dicen que debemos dejar que los homosexuales se casen, no debemos usar lenguaje ofensivo y debemos aceptarlos como personas normales. Multa. Pero tienen bares gay y bares de lesbianas y mientras yo pudiera beber allí, me servirían al final. ¿De qué sirve integrarse en una sociedad más amplia si aún se segregan a sí mismos? Claro, tenemos nuestros propios bares, los negros también tienen su mayoría de bares y gringos. Pero si cumpliéramos otra carrera o si les brindáramos menos servicio, perderíamos nuestro negocio. Lo mismo si fuera dueño de un bar que era solo para personas heterosexuales. Quieren todos los beneficios de la igualdad y ninguno de los inconvenientes. Así que no, no los respeto. No hubo tal separación entre gente como yo y gente como tú en un pueblo maya. A lo que pude tener acceso fue a lo que pudiste. El concepto de odiarte solo porque eres gay no es nuestro valor. Es gente blanca. Y sin embargo, descienden de los griegos y romanos pedarast. Tal vez en su sociedad los trataron tanto como mierda que se necesitaba hacer tal distinción, pero este continente es Turtle Island ... No se nos permite tener segregación racial en este país y el sexismo tampoco está bien, pero dar a los homosexuales derechos especiales es ? Incluso si creen que es un refugio seguro para ellos, es como los únicos gimnasios para mujeres. Consigo que los hombres los golpeen, pero ese es el riesgo de igualdad. No hay protecciones para los sentimientos en el mundo real."

(Onda is a prison gang. I never had that happen in prison and while it might be expected that I should have fought them off but I was outnumbered. There may not be a precedent for what happens to vatos who had that happen as a kid but even if there was and they tried to hit me it would be too costly. The ones in there who equal me in brutality are not on the streets and any soldiers they send after me would be no match. Besides plenty of carnales were molested as children before they joined up that was different. They don't know what happened to me with that but that doesn't matter. Adult prisons are more dangerous. And I surived that with my manhood intact even if I didn't leave Mexico with my childhood intact. So do I believe in assaulting vatos like you? Chale. But the putos in El Norte are fair game. They tell us up there we need to let gays get married, we need to not use offensive language and we need to accept them as regular people. Fine. But they have gay bars and lesbian bars and while I could drink there I would get served last. What is the point of them integrating into larger society if they still self segregate? Sure, we have our own bars, blacks have their majority bars and gringos too. But if we served another race last or gave them less service we would lose our business. Same if I owned a bar that was just for straight people. They want all the perks of equality and none of the drawbacks. So no, I don't respect them. There was no such separation between people like me and people like you in a Mayan village. What I could have access to was what you could. The concept of hating you just because you are gay is not our values. It's white people. And yet they descend from pedarast Greeks and Romans. Maybe in their society they treated them so much like shit such distinction needed to be made but this continent is Turtle Island...We're not allowed to have racial segregation in this country and sexism s not okay either but giving gays special rights is? Even if they feel it is a safe haven for themslves, it's just like women's only gyms. I get that men hit on them but that is the risk of equality. There are no protections for feelings in the real world.)

Antonia frowned. "No puedo decir que estoy de acuerdo con tu comportamiento o tu elección de lengua vernácula, pero no eres nada si no eres honesto. Tal vez un poco demasiado honesto. Brutalmente."

His friend replied, "Espera un minuto, Ikal. ¡¿Por qué incluso quieres beber en un bar gay ?! No me digas Tenemos el mejor alcohol?"

(Wait a minute, Ikal. Why do you even want to drink in a gay bar?! Don't tell me. We have the best alcohol?)

This earned a burst of laughter from each of the Zapatistas breaking up the tension. Neto growled, "Very funny cabron..."

Meanwhile, there was a large group of people dressed in Indigenous clothing awash with many colors most of them bright. There was also some dressed in Baklavas. There was about ten of them. Joaquin signalled from buildings awa flashing a flashlight to warn of the impending danger. Several Humvees pulled up and members of the Mexican military arrived along with police. They were ordering the Zapatistas to come out and suurrender in Spanish. A man with a megaphone did so and Neto clocked about twenty soldiers and twenty police officers. Something wasn';t right. This wasn't even a fullplatoon. Antonia spoke in English briefly. Her accent was thick but Neto understood. "We'e getting the weapons ready. Is this what you were expecting?"

Joaquin watced with the Barett and Neto saw his laser scope out a man wearing a poncho. It was when Nto observed his features, the armed Zapatista that he could see that despite his skin color, this wasn't his real skin color. His gray eyes shined in the dim light and Neto noticed the nose shape. It was not flat and wide the way many people out here tended to have but instead long. It reminded him of the noses he saw on Irish people. There was a few mestizos among them dressed as Zapatistas who were actually soldiers, but the other half of the ten people were white Spaniards who had painted their faces bronze an came in wearing Indigenous clothing under the cover of dark!

"INTRUSOS ! ¡No están con nosotros!"

(Intruders! They're not with us!)

His warning came too late. A barrage of rounds from an IMI Gallil hit Maria in the stomach killing her instantly. Emiliana cried out in anger raising her Beretta and firing striking the man in the forehead dropping him just as swiftly before overturning a table to take cover. Before Tlayotl could react, he spat coughing blood all over Neto as a Sniper round tore through his chest. Another round narrowly missed Neto as the gay man fell over knocking Neto over with his weight.

Graciella was he next to go down, hit with a barrage of rounds from a mestizo soldier dressed like a Zapatista a man standing five eight with a handle bar mustache and jet black hair in a pink, red and black shirt and black jeans. Neto fired his Serpant striking the man in the face with five rounds taking off the lower part of his jaw.

As soon as the firing inside started, the Mexican soldiers and police on the street fired not only from Assault Rifles and shotguns and Machine Guns but also a .50 turret was being swept across the Zaptista occupied screams from insid were as deafening as the shots as women and children unarmed ducked down to try and get away from it but some were wounded from stray rounds.

Antonia screamed in rage with an AK-74 angered that she had given the okay to let some of these people in at dusk with the mestizos having been at the front of them while the bronze painted Spanish Mexicans stayed in the back. She hit one of them who had body armor on, a Spanish ancestry having man from the state of Juarez. The rounds hit his military grade vest but after eight rounds, the next fifteen went through lining up his socaphrougous with lead. "CHINGATE!" She screamed as she riddled the blue eyed man with rounds.

She then fired over the side from the rooftop at the man firing the .50 and hit him as well wounding him to try and stop him from shooting anymore civilians and their comrades but Antonia was also hit by the .50 rounds in the chest an unlike the man she had just hit even though she had incapacitated him, hers was not mere bullet wounds. They were mortal as her organs were shredded and she fell back in a pool of her own blood screaming with the rounds until the next several had destroyed her lungs and she could make no more sounds but gurgling.

Emiliana fired blindly from cover despite one 5.56 round hitting her right wrist and she fired taking out the floodlight. Neto broke open one of the weapons he had brought them, a LAW rocket launcher antiquated but effective and he aimed over the roof and fired down at the military assault and he hit one of their Humvees but it did not blow it up however it did take down three police cars in the blast and along with it, four police officers.

Emiliana fired striking down one of the vendidos with a shot to the neck. Yahtzil did the sae finishing the others off. Brujo and Tito were also closer to the action than Joaquin was and Brujo fired a PSG1 striking a soldier of castizo ancestry in the back of the head. The soldiers and police had to diverge their attention to those firing on their flank.

The remaining Spanish Mexican soldiers opened the entrance to the complex an the soldiers and police came through thegate. Soon tear gas and smoke grenades were being thrown into the many rooms where there were kids inside. The Zapatistas did their best to defend teh but they were outmanned and outgunned.

A male Zapatista of Nahuatl ancestry was hit from a round in the chest from a Sniper Rifle fired by an Isreali Mossad agent who was on a rooftop farther out than Tito and BrujoThere was also a drone being used by the IAA coming towards the building Luckily, as it was doing a fly over, Culebra was able to shoot it out of the sky and get his own drone he had purchased recntly live but his was farther away. The Isreali agent fired and almost hit Brujo but instead hit his Sniper Rifle destroying it."CHINGADA!" Screamed the ex cartel member. He went for his PKM while Tito covered them with return Sniper fire as the Isreali moved to another position. He began to fire it and he raked it across the general area where the Isreali was. Despite his high training that made him vastly superior to not only Tito and Brujo but even Neto for that matter, it didn't make it any less mortal as six 7.62 rounds from the PKM struck his left thigh.

There was still however, an IAA agent firing on the Zapatistas. Joaquin left his own nest and rapelled down the building with his gear. He ran three blocks until he got to where the IAA agent was. He rappelled up the side of the building. There was a black IAA agent, and he was about six stories up firing and he hit another Zapatista. His name was Agent Jermaine Stone. He ironically had at hing or "Latinas" and considered himself El Negro Conquistador. Joaquin didn't know any of that and it wouldn't have mattered if only to strengthen his resolve if anything. The man struck down another Zapatista, a mestizo man of Zapotecan ancestry. "That was for Anselmo you wetback pricks..." He muttered.

Culebra got to where he was and charged at him. The IAA agent heard the advancing steps. "What the hell...?" He tried to see what was coming but all he got wasa left kick from the ex Seal. His lips were bleeding and before he could do anything to defend himself, Culebra threw him over the side of the building. The man screamed on his way down and a sckening crack sound filled the night air as his back, his legs and both arms and his hips were broken, as well as his collar bone.

Neto, meanwhile, fired injuring several more soldiers with his FX-05 but all the way, he cried out in English, "Goddamn you, Devlin! Pinche Ana pinche Karen! Y tu Mai! YOU DID THIS!" He only wished he had tormented Anselmo worse. "

With all the shooting and commotion and people running every which way to avoid gunfire, nobody was able or willing to help him. He coughed blood up as his ribs were also broken and punctured his left lung and he had compound fractures in both legs. Joaquin didn't know if he would have been able to take the Agency sniper on fist to fist, maybe maybe not but he didn't care he was a Seal even if a former one it wasn't about duking it out it was about taking the threat down and he knew the same would hav been done to him. Joaquin used his closer Sniper perch to cover the Zapatistas better.

Emiliana took two rounds in the left leg as five soldiers and four police officers advanced. She fired back striking two police officers and one soldier getting through the armor of all. Neto fired at two more soldiers to keep them off of her. Emiliana screamed, "NO!" She looked crying as three children lay dying from gunshot and Moira were fighting back as best as they could while also trying to help the me women and children of Indigenous ancestry who were non combatants out of the building which was now on fire due to the smoke grenades and flash grenades.

The building rocked as two rockets hit it. Neto was thrown down as was the wounded managed to get his own wife and children out of harms way as well as others but he took two rounds in the back from an M4 and fell down the stairs from the rooftop wounded badly. Neto was deafened by the sound of the blast.

He saw a man screaming as he was on fire and there was no way he would live. Neto, hearing only ringing somewhat glad he could not hear the screams the man must have been making that would have haunted him, he fired a burst of rounds giving him a mercy killing.

Neto grabbed the rocket launcher, his heart heavy at what he had done but he knew it was for the best. More and more soldiers and cop poured in. The Zapatistas and the military fired on each other wounding each other. Joaquin found the one who had fired one of the rockets, a Mexican man who was part of an elite special forces team and Culebra took him down with a round in the throat.

The other person shocked him when he saw her. It was none other than Karen Daniels of the IAA. He gritted his teeth and fired on her but he hit the launcher instead. Still, it was enough to scare her into retreating though Brujo and Tito also fired at her but she jumped off the two story height from which she had fired though she did injure her arm n the process, her left arm broken.

Another soldier had manned the .50 and Neto wanted to try and use the LAW again on the Humvee but three rounds hit the weapon rendering it useless as a government soldier fired on him and hit him with four rounds in the chest. Luckily, the vest was protecting him but he had been stunned. He lucked out, however as Moira fired her Spas 12 striking the man in the side of the face blowing it, his left eyeball and a chunk of skull and brains from his head. "Gracias, carnala..." He panted.

He went to the weapons stash and got into a different rocket launcher.

Just then, there was a seemingly endless amount of machine gun fire followed by explosions. This too sent the Zapatistas to the floor as it seemed doomsday was just outside. In reality, it was their savior as Joaquin had gotten back to the controls on his drone and had finally put it to use destroying the military and police not killed in the blast were forced to retreat from that street and many police and soldiers had to fall back but the day was lost. The complex that had housed maybe 100 people was going up in flames. Neto helped the remaining survivors evacuate through a hole in the wall ironically caused by the attackers.

The final tally was 15 police officers and twenty one soldiers deceased and nine more wounded and this was not counting the Mossad agent bleeding to death from a thigh wound or the IAA agent crippled with his pierced lung making every remaining moment hell.

There were twenty two dead Zapatistas and twenty five civilians dead plus another five wounded Zapatista including Iktan and Emiliana, the former of which, along with two more wounded Zapatistas, had held off six wounded police officers in a firefight covering the escapes of the civilians but now they had been captured, There was also six wounded civilians. The majority of the civilians dead who had been shot were initially just wounded and tried to escape but died of the trauma while trying to wait then run then wait and run between the dangers of the exchanged gunfire.

Six of those civilians dead were children ranging age five to twelve including one little girl the soldiers had lit on fire on purpose. Yahtzil had tearfully put her out of he misery and tried to hit all of the soldiers but many of them retreated to cover even as she shot two of them in the butt cheeks.'

Of the total thirty Zapatistas who lived there only eight had survived and three of them were now arrested. There were other strongholds the Zapatistas controlled in the city and the state and retaliation was a sure thing, if not shootings, then bombings but this could not be seen as anything but a crushing defeat Neto found himself carrying a little girl in one arm and a boy on the other. He didn't know where hey would take these refugees. They just couldn't stay in the area.

Joaquin had commandeered a helicopter that could carry eiht at a time but he wasn't sure it would be enough.

About ten more civilians were arrested as they were also thought to be they all found themselves at a safe house and the other refuees who had escaped were being taken to different Zapatistas safe zones if they could be called that after tonight, as Emiliana screamed as the ullets were dug out of her buy their surgeon, Joaquin, with bitterness in hs voice looked at Neto. "One of the Agency shooters with the rocket launcher...it was Agent Daniels. I took out one of them but she escaped..."

Paul

Jock Cranley was giving a speech on the immigration problem. The 2016 presidential candidate was running against Sue Mury. "They keep coming, savage brown skin the custom checkpoints in San Dios Between Rack of Cars on our freeways, they hang their laundry out the
Window. They're an extremely fertile people. Too fertile. They're rapists. How else do you think our former governor in San Andreas had a partially Mexican baby?"

Paul shook his head. "Unbelievable, this fuckin retard. Does he even realize that it was that Austrian asshole who got a maid pregnant? Does this fucking idiot really think some undocumented guy got the Governihilators wife pregnant?"

"They do jobs white people are too cool to do Themselves. I don't care if it starts a race war, I don't Care if it brings every picked out of the class and gets Every brown skin savage beaten out on the street who cares as long as I become president?! In this country you speak English or you get out!"

"Fuck, man this guy really is trying to start shit..." Observed Little Joe.

Paul sighed. "I'm glad I'm up here...but I don't know how long I can stay gone.."

Davis, San Andreas

Big Sway was on the phone with H Bomb. "You still coming over?" The younger brother asked. "There's a cooked dinner and everything, man, the kids is waiting man you aint seen your nieces and nephews for a hot minute."

"Fo sho, baby bro I'll be over there. I'm stopping off at the mini mart though to get some brew."

"Look, you know we can't have liquor in the house, man. Even if I wasn't who I was from prison, beer just aint good for you."

"Neither is cheefing that hydro like I be doing, bro but it is what it is. You do you I do me besides this aint for dinner, I'm cool with soda or water or juice or whatever you got there."

"Man, we got soda but too much of that aint good for you either, bro we only even give it to the kids for a treat now and then you feel me? You know how diabeties runs in the family and if I'm being honest, you could stand to lose some weight man you're in your forties."

"What you trying to say you trying to feed a nigga and starve him at the same time? The fuck homie?"

"Nah it aint even that I'm just saying maybe you shouldn't be eating at Up N Atom. You don't gotta be a Muslim to take care of yourself, loc. You know that. I'm saying it cause we family, man. You looked out for me when we was kids but as we get older I mean you drink I don't you smoke i don't and I'm thinner I want you to get in shape man cause really if you don't like if you have a heart attack and survive, I'ma have to take care of you."

"You gonna have to take care of me anyway motherfucker after all them times I done changed your diaper and shit using baby wipes to clean up yo lil pee pee nigga?" He cackled in that ksshh kssh sound that only black people made when laughing. "Oh you a comedian now huh motherfucker. Why don't you just drop the flag and pick up the microphone and start doing comedy then, fool? You already a clown..."

Sway asked, "Look, i aint gonna drink around the kids, and I aint gonna try and give none of ya'll any but while I'm there is it cool if I just leave it in the fridge?"

"If you do, man we gotta be real discreet man, you know how women are they notice what;'s all in the fridge I can maybe slide it into a bottom drawer if we quick about it but after dinner you gotta get it up outta there. Don't need to be drinking this late anyway."

As he pulled up to the mini mart there were several green clad black men, all of them from their exact hood, 165th Loony Hood. He was still on the phone when one of them glared at him a gang member in a white t shirt crisp and long and baggy blue jeans plus a greenish blue rag in his left pocket hanging from the back, a silver chain around the neck and a Corkers cap on backwards. The man was light skinned and had piercing hazel eyes. "Where you from, cuz?"

"From right here, homie. Loony Block."

The gangster looked about 19. "What's going on, bro?" Asked H Bomb. "Hold on, man I got these niggas hemming me up. "I don't know you you aint from my hood."

"Nigga, I know your big homie." That was when he realized that all though they were from Loony Hood, these gangsters were from the 166th street clique of the Loony Hood set. He had seen the 16 and didn't even bother to look for the 5 and the mini mart was between 165th and 166th. The store's address was technically 165th but it was close enough to 166th that a lot of gang members from 166 went there. They were allies from the same gang but they didn't know him. "Say what?!" Demanded the hostile gangster.

"Yeah, your big homie, Salty, man that's my nigga. He wouldn't appreciate you sweating an OG."

"Man, let this old buster go, Kell..." Stated a gang member with dreads. "Buster, huh...?" Sway went inside and got the beer and some ice and stayed on the phone. "What was that about?"

"Some niggas set tripping on me. We from the same set! Im at that store we used to go to get swishers all the time when you still smoked...some young niggas that didn't even believe I was from out here, man. I was busting guns when they was in diapers and long before that. And I said I knew they homie Salt, and they backed off but goddamn."

"It's good you walked away before it deescelated, bro. look, the wifey is hitting me up to help her with the chicken so just get your ass over here, all right? Better you be here even stay the night if you have to then be out in the streets shit is hot right now. Really it would be for me too niggas know who i am out here but there's homies posted up on our block too so I feel sort of safe about it knowing it's lookouts."

"Well I'll call you back then when I'm almost there then and you can help me carry some of this ice."

"Aight, bet. Hey be careful out there, just ignore what anybody says. You gotta remember, man you and me was living in Venturas for a few years and three, four years is a long time in the hood so these little homies got put in probably after we left. We were thorough in the game but if you leave town even for a minutge, even if niggas aint tripping on you trying to start shit you can't get that OG love like that."

"Hey, we get love on 165th! It aint no problem with the young bucks in our know our family been gangster since the 70's and I done earned my stripes since the 80's. But yeah let me pay for this shit right quick and i'll be there soon."

He paid for the beer and the ice and the Korean store owner behind the bulletproof glass rang him up without a word and went outside getting in the car. The Families gang members were arguing. "Nah fuck this nigga, man! I don't know him!"

"Don't none of us know him but he dropped Salty's name."

The dread locked gangster stated, "hey it's one thing you know Salty by name but it aint like we can call him up in County and ask him to vouch for you."

"Well what I'm supposed to do?" Sway asked getting in his car and starting it. "Aint like I can call him either."

"Hey we aint say you can leave, man! This our hood!" Growled a dark skinned Families member. "The address is 165, homie. I moved outta town to Venturas for a few years before you youngins came up and got put on but that don't mean i aint who i am just like it don't mean you aint real. It just is what it is. You might think you wanna live somewhere else some time."

"Just let him go we give him a pass..." Stated the man in dreads.

"Most def. But I Will be talking to Salty about this shit,..."

"WHAT?!" Demanded the guy in the Corkers hat. "You a snitch motherfucka?!" The man with the dreads passed him the blunt. "Man, hit this and calm your belligerent ass down. We already got beef with the Ese's and you never know when one of them lowriders gonna roll up we don't gotta sweat our own people."

"Thank you," Sway said showing his arm tattoo with 165 on it. "I'm the OG from out here even though I aint shot calling my nigga Flex is locked up too so somebod gotta look out for the youngsters till he touch down."

"It's all to the good..." Replied the dread locked gangster. He started to pull out and got to the street. It was a red light. He waited as the gangsters smoked. The light turned green and he put the radio to West Coast Classics. "Tripping... He muttered and the song Still A West Coast Nigga by Eazy E played and he hit the gas. Glass sprayed hitting him in the face without cutting him but a round hit him in the arm. Two shots hit him and he cried out. "FUCK THAT NIGGA, MAN!" Screamed the gang member as he was firing a Beretta at the car. "I NEVER SAW HIM AROUND! He a drop out!"

Sway swerved trying to drive while bleeding as the gangster sent five more shots. "Man, what the fuck is you doing, cuz?!" Demanded the dread locked gangster and another took the gun from him and now they were screaming at each other and they took off running. Thbe dread locked gangster got in the car with him as he started to almost crash. "Hey homie, I'll get you to the ER, let me drive, man..."

Sway dialed the number of H Bomb getting him back on the phone. "i'm hit, bro..." He groaned. "What...?"

"They shot me, cuz...I'm ojn my way to the hospital..."

"All right...stay with me...just say on the line..."

"You'll never believe this shit...I'm getting taken there by one of the 166 niggas that was out there..."

They stayed on the line with each other and he made it to Central LS. The next thing H Bomb knew he was speeding to the hospital to meet him with his family. He would spend almost the entire time his brother was in surgery with his prayer mat as would his son.

---

That's it for this chapter. hope you enjoyed it and I am sorry it is so long but there was a lot to do.

Jock Cranley and his hate speech is a parody of Donald Trump but the actual speech is from the Brujeria Song Pito Wilson off their album Odiada Raza (hated race) and it's kind of an exaggeration of Pete Wilson's stances when he signed proposition 187 in California which cut off social services to undocumented people but in a way it was different because Pete Wilson was actually running as a democrat. I mean I know Democrats and Republicans are both full of shit but the general perception is that democrats will defend undocumented people that's not always the case though.

A few things that were supposed to be in this chapter got pushed back due to length.

So Karen interfered in Mexico making her an even deeper enemy to Neto. Kenny Petrovic made an attempt on Boris resulting in Natasha losing her and Ivan's baby. How she survived that gunshot was she had surplus blood from the placenta otherwise she would have died from the gunshot wound. As for the debates about history, music, and The Art Of s a common theme this chapter. H Bomb didn't say it but the thing he was going to school his little homie about was the art of war and point out how maybe black gangs in prison and on the street should snitch on Mexican gangs and do to Eme and the AB what both do to them. H Bomb is trying m adopt the same don't snitch on yo on ersngs largely abide as the rapper that H Bomb is based on pointed out, what the Eme and AB are doing when they do use the CO's to win some battles telling on enemies is they are taking the art of war literally by winning a blodless victory There is some parralel to what Mark does but he's obviously too ahead of his time. I am sure both men from different states would agree.

And Kuma from chapter 25 returned and had a heart to heart with his son. His son Abraham is based o somebody i went to college with. Oh yeah and his gf is visually based on the pornstar Yuka Ozaki one of the few Japanese to moan right lol and the two deaookers are visuall based on Caroline Pierce and Bridget B.

As for Mark and G Bone and Janea they pulled a fast one with the politician in New Arcadia but how did Ivan get Mark AKA Grizz to do it? Stay tuned I will reveal how but Grizz is pissed at Ivan at the moment.

Also I did not kill Marco and Charlie from New Arcadia just an attempt how they survived I leave up to Zilla 2000 and i also did the same with the cliffhanger after the fight in Sunbelt. Ernesto and Syke O initially would have avoided helping them against Merryweather but Ernesto's conscious got the best of him but it also was for Felix too.

As for Chela I wanted her to have a moment with Mark too after what he did to Pajaro.

As for the shooting of Big Sway it's kind of based on something that really happened to the rapper Dresta he's been shot a total of twelve times in his life and the most recent was actually by members of his own hood Nutty Blocc Compton Crips who were just younger generation so they didn't know him anymore and he and BG Knocc Out lived in Vegas for some time even just a few years is a long time in the streets.

I don't know the exact scenario where he was shot by his own hood I just came up with the corner store scenario off the top of my head.

As for all the typo i will fix them tomorrow and I doubt any of you are going to have read the whole thing between now and tomorrowl. I type with a sitty computer ill soon fix that but that's how it is. Shitty, computer see? Can't type one sentece without typos. It's an android with a small keyboard and it has a touchscreen keyboard which i hate theeoncept of. It causes more tpos than it fixes and that includes auto correct. So just bear with me, I'll get this ffixed tomorrow.

Zilla you weren't expecting this were you lol.