Chapter XVI

"You're usually very prompt about being on-time, Mrs. Vercetti." Darnell's voice called out from the inside of the storage garage.

Equipped with a basic handgun and duffel-bag, Sasha had armed herself. Being that it was past midnight, she wouldn't take any chances. Giving a sigh of relief under her breath, her mind cleared the surface tension. "Good Lord, Darnell. Don't scare me like that."

Sasha had arrived at the old McDonough Storage Garage a little late. Michael had been a small problem knowing she had to work around getting him drunk first before leaving her hideout. Images of her glancing back at Michael, jacket in hand. She gave a small smile at Darnell. Though from her perspective his stance was frightening. His dark skin could blend into the darkness at will.

Taking a quick glance around, Sasha had shut the semi-open garage shutters before proceeding with the conversation. "Don't tell me that there's something wrong with the Bati. Am I not able to leave tonight?"

"Overthinking things was always a part of your worrying personality. You overpaid for the motorcycle, love." Darnell answered with a chuckle. Sasha observed him walk into the corner of the garage. "Actually... I wanted to include a small bonus for your purchase." A scrape of a metal box could be heard. "Shall I remind you of... no... you're family's reputation?"

"That we're the last cliche mafia around?"

Darnell had dropped the metal box onto a concrete slab near Sasha, motioning her to join him. "You're placing a lot at stake in terms of family, Mrs. Vercetti. Whatever all your details may imply." Opening the casing, he stepped aside for her to see what was inside.

Sasha grinned ear to ear beholding her eyes upon a specialized model of what she could identify as her preferred sniper rifle. Gripping the rifle, Sasha adjusted the sights and bolt mechanism. "You modified a Classic PSG1. You know me so well, Darnell."

"It's your favorite. If there was one detail I remember about you is that you're a dead eye. No living creature escapes your two hundred meter sight. A bit of an exaggeration, but Lance always told me how great of a shot you were. Please. Consider the rifle a gift..." Darnell found himself trailing off transitioning into another laugh. "That and you have one hell of a forearm for tennis."

Sasha secured the PSG1 Sniper Rifle back into its casing, lightly shoving Darnell. "I can't believe Lance of all people told you that."

"Making Crawford your target-"

"Oh he's not my target for tonight, Darnell. Not until the Vercetti Family have reunited and discussed further plans."

Darnell shook his misconception of Sasha out of his head. "Maybe I misheard you. Then..." He crossed his arms, giving her his full attention. "Then what is your mission, Sash?"

Sasha didn't feel compelled to answer immediately. Instead she lifted the PSG1 Steel Box into the back of the Pegassi Bati. Darnell was even generous to toss her a few straps, making the rifle secure. She let out a painful sigh, knowing well that perhaps what she was going to tackle had been nearly impossible. "John Marston's Legacy was stolen from Lance, Darnell. The very heirlooms of his family I've been entrusted with are with Crawford. If I don't make my move now... Aldrick could sell the last bit of such a legacy for a hefty price."

This didn't sway Darnell's overall opinion about how reckless Sasha's actions were. "Rather you could get killed yourself or Crawford himself has a lot of nerve testing waters to see what exactly he could get away with... If Lance was still here? Would you have still been entangled in these events?" Darnell gave a slight shrug, reopening the garage shutters. "I know you though. Even when I insist or tell you no... That's still not going to stop you now... is it? Then I won't stand in your way."

Sasha lifted her right leg over the motorcycle as Darnell gladly handed over a helmet. "In case you need a reminder, love. Remember. You were just shot more than a short while ago." Observing her as she adjusted herself, being then after handed the keys to her Bati. "Even when something does attempt to slow you down. You have qualities of your father. Do take care though. One wrong move... you can reopen your stitches. You're still in recovery. Keep to the shadows."

"Thank you, Darnell." Sasha spoke, turning the keys in the ignition. "When I return... I'll remind Tommy to add you to our family reunion. I'll put in a good word for you."

"So then why go after Marston's Legacy alone?"

"... Just call it a hunch that Tommy is more focused on Aldrick's Betrayal. Lance was more than a brother to the family... to Garett. Lance was my entire world. He was everything to me. What if I had died? Would Lance react the same way?" Darnell slightly dropped his head. "See you know the answer, Darnell. You know that he would do the same for me."

Darnell reached to hug Sasha, which she gladly accepted. "Keep me posted then, Sash. I'll continue to provide all I can. You gave me your word, so I'm giving mine. It's been my pleasure, Mrs. Vercetti. I'll see you again soon."

"Can you do me one more favor, Darnell?"

"Anything, Sasha."

"I must ask you keep yourself discreet as you can." Sasha explained, digging into her jacket to hand him a slip of paper. It had been a note. "Please give this message to Michael DeSanta. He's currently staying at my hideout. You know the address. Tell him I'll be back soon. That I had to take care of something personal."

Darnell swiped it from her right hand. "All right I'll buy you as much time as I can."

Twisting the throttle, Sasha sped out of Paleto Blvd and outside of Paleto Bay after what felt like ages. She had flawlessly merged left onto the Great Ocean Highway. There had been a small joy of freedom. At last! She was mobile. Out of her immediate situation. Her journey would lead her through the Senora Freeway and enduring the echoing roars of her engine in the Braddock Tunnel.

Sasha's inner speed demon fed into her adrenaline. It had felt wonderful after being trapped in her hideout for weeks. With decent focus, traffic was better. Weaving between cars was slick. Not as top speed like what her Vacca could handle, but fast enough to work her reflexes. The Bati kept her focused. Allowing her to review basic goals to accomplish once she arrived on Elysian Island.

Anger and determination fogged Sasha's thoughts. Believing she had failed Lance was personal to her. Sasha knew very well that if she were to fail again. Then she would fail the entire Marston Legacy. Aldrick would escape. The battle would be never-ending.

The drive through Los Santos this day may have appeared no different. The city seemed to have functioned normally since the day The Vercetti Family were ran out. She wasn't about to pull into the Diamond Casino, however. Sasha was smarter than that. With Aldrick how Franklin described? One wrong move on a security camera and she could be kidnapped or worse... up dead man's creek.

The journey throughout Los Santos kept Sasha inside her bubble. She felt isolated. Alone. A small wave of guilt washed over her. Maybe this had been all wrong? Leaving everything behind to accomplish what any sane person would plan ahead for... She left her phone back at the hideout. Reason being that she wanted no distraction or worse yet? Michael's cycle and repeat of questions.

Would it have been better if she at least told Michael that she would be okay? "No." Sasha heard her inner voice argue with her. "You left him a note. This had to happen. Lance would do the same for you if he were still breathing. Michael will have to wait. He has no choice in this matter. Michael WILL wait for you." Tears streamed down her face, burning her eyes. "You know god damn well that he would try and oppose you."

Conflicting thoughts regarding Michael had pulled at Sasha's heart strings. He had been more than accommodating these passed few weeks. His company, his stubbornness, hell even his dry sense of sarcastic humor. Sasha's recovery. Her life... everything was in his hands. There was nothing that could excuse her feelings for Michael. Tommy Vercetti would be right placing all his faith in Michael DeSanta. That was Sasha's long term goal.

Aiding her without guilt, Sasha knew that she looked forward towards returning to Michael. They could have so many more adventures outside of anything concerning Aldrick. Perhaps if Tommy was accommodating, a well deserved vacation in Vice City. Wouldn't that be nice? Sasha smiled at the thought to herself. Then Michael would require a promotion.

Sasha wanted everything in the world to get excited. Tell Michael all that which they might travel to Vice City next. The flaw with her process was that just for this mission, her smartphone had been left behind. No one could grab hold of her. No one could convince her that all of this was in-fact a bad idea. This had to be done.

Continuing south, Sasha knew than in order to reach Elysian Island she would have to travel towards the Los Santos International Airport. From there, the previous atmosphere developed into a dramatic change. Same model cars, certain roads blocked off. She was headed in the right direction. Lucky for her, the wouldn't be quick enough for inspection.

Sasha hastily and as not nonchalant as possible, sped through the South La Puerta Freeway. Even charging on through the bridge connecting to Elysian; Miriam Turner Overpass. With no clear entryway accessible by car, Sasha considered herself quite lucky having the Bati Darnell provided. With little welcome meant more security.

Darnell had greater advantage when planning ahead with clients. Sasha was indeed one of his special guests. There would be no explanation from him sometimes. His way of keeping those of interest inside the loop would be to provide various resources. In Sasha's case it was not only the motorcycle, but the PSG1 Sniper Rifle. That alone was enough to cover Darnell's interests and Sasha's concerns.

The first objective that Sasha set out to complete had been accomplished. From memory and recent changes, there was a plan to thin out the herd that would be Aldrick's Henchmen. On her small improvised map were reminders of warehouses on east and west docks. Knowing that Crawford more than likely had Marston's Heirlooms in the more popular West Port of Los Santos, then she would clear the area from the east.

The South Docks, though not as popular had shadows to camouflage in and temporary storage to hide the Bati while she played sniper. Not that terrible of an exchange overall. The great arrange of Naval Docks and various Terminals would be her starting point. This would help confirm how many henchmen Aldrick had working for him. Perhaps even measure security all together. Sasha could use that window of opportunity to acquire her bearings.

Outside of Aldrick's Henchmen the East Dock Naval Port was already under tight security from local and militarized. Interestingly enough Jetsam Terminal housed itself there as well. The crates and covering there is where Sasha would store her Bati. Treading lightly, she had pulled her motorcycle into their makeshift plywood sectioning. That business decision was better than tarp covering.

Parking the Bati, Sasha rounded herself to the PSG1 Box, equipping herself with the rifle. On the inside was also a conveniently stored silencer. Her second objective outside of thinning the herd was to locate the Shipping Manifest. That would give Sasha a more clear indication where the Marston Legacy would be stored. It would be better as a confirmation than anything. Even if the heirlooms weren't stored there. A message would be sent to Aldrick.

If Sasha failed one objective, then a message would be sent to Crawford. That his chaotic reign wouldn't be for long as the Vercetti Family were still alive.

Locating a stairwell leading from the plywood storage upon the roof hadn't proved itself too difficult. The roof wasn't too impressive, made only of typical scrap metal that should have been banned ages ago due to health concerns. She took most of the strength preserved to climb to a vintage point. The said vantage point would tuck Sasha away while scoping the perimeter. It also meant no one would hopefully see her.

There was a challenge when addressing any stragglers or those loyal to Aldrick. One wrong move and they might take notice sooner than necessary. Sasha needed time. Not hindrance. If Sasha could eliminate bodies while making it discreet, she was half way to a bonus objective. Move quickly and she might be capable of hiding corpses before any of their companions noticed something was wrong.

Limiting herself to a few was an option, but it was preferred. Sasha was adept at her skills in stealth. Not a master by any means, but she taught herself well enough to get her objectives completed. It was all in the smaller details of her actions and more importantly getting out alive. Garett taught her as any of her other siblings well enough.

The layout of West Elysian Island baffled Sasha. By how the main pier building was structured, it appeared to be more of an apartment complex than it was an actual warehouse or office complex. Hell for all what Sasha knew, maybe a few henchmen lived there. It had been some time before arriving back into the city. Aldrick being an abrasive man. The overall thought wasn't too farfetched.

Scanning the island, Sasha found her first target. Himself being detached from the group while having a cigarette. What a deadly habit. She watched her target through the scope as he smoked. Sasha took a long deep breath, waiting for a pristine moment. Counting a matter of seconds, she pulled the trigger.

There was a direct hit though silent torment. Passing straight through the henchman's head. Blood and brains splattered everywhere as he slumped over. His now lifeless body dropping right into the ocean in front of the poor bastard. Sasha observed carefully, hoping that someone might have noticed or heard anything unusual.

Sasha spotted more of Aldrick's henchmen off to the right. If they didn't take note of what had happened, then they would be her next target. Before considering the risk. She had to make another solo kill just to be sure. Sasha needed to see how many of Crawford's henchmen were housed inside the Pier Warehouse.

Shifting back to the left, Sasha focused in on another straggler. She was almost certain it would bring about the right attention. Someone had to pay attention. Controlling her breathing once more, she took the shot. Sasha consciously made effort to count the seconds that passed. No one had arrived to investigate what happened to him either. No sign of warehouse security or otherwise.

Maybe security or monitoring wasn't as tight as Sasha initially thought? None of this felt right.

"Yeah. Okay. Fine. Their funeral." Sasha huffed to herself, rounding around back to the others at the front of the warehouse. "Let's see if this brings up any attention." Having shot both of those at the entrance in quick recession. "You have got to be fucking kidding me, here." Disappointed at the results. "I could have waltzed right in..."

Sliding off the roof and getting on her feet. It was then without the scope she couldn't see much without a pair of binoculars. Thinking ahead wasn't clearly on her agenda. Sasha would just have to improvise. Slipping back into the side door of the empty warehouse, she jumped down to where her Bati was stored.

Dismantling her PSG1, Sasha stored in back into its box. The way to West Elysian Island had been clear if all the henchmen were promptly eliminated. Escorting her Bati out of the warehouse, Sasha wrapped her right leg back around her bike. Perhaps luck had been on her side. Something that could be of great fortune.

Speeding into West Elysian, Sasha pulled into the back. She had then approached, investigated and discreetly hid the remainder of who might catch attention. In their pockets there were spare 9mm clips, which Sasha proudly took as compensation. There even had been a few hundred dollar bills stored on their person. "Collateral damage never hurt anyone. Last I checked, anyway."

Making her way to the left side of the building, Sasha found a stubborn door that lead on the inside. Slamming her right foot into the handle, it broke open. She had hesitated per extra measure in-case any of Crawford's Henchmen were on the inside. No shuffling of feet, coughing of echoes or insults to others. "Huh... anybody... home?" Hearing her own question echo off its walls.

Nothing.

The lower level Sasha found herself occupying was strangely vacant. Only hums of machinery accompanied her. Closing the broken door behind her, Sasha made her way to the left wing stairwell that was spotted earlier from her sniper scope. Questions in the back of her mind multiplied. Had she been wrong as to where Marston's Heirlooms had been housed?

There was no telling for sure until she got her hands on that manifest.

Reaching the stairs, unknown if there had been offices on the ground floor, there had to be a small navigational map that could guide her where she needed to travel. Skimming her eyes along the directions, the offices she had needed were on the seventh floor. She shook her head. "How am I not surprised? No way am I climbing all these flights of stairs." She glanced over to her right. "Elevator it is, then."

Sasha caught her breath riding the elevator to the seventh floor. She assured herself ease of access to her clips and hugged the nearest accessible wall out of sight as a precaution. Not knowing if there would be more henchmen on the floor once she arrived. However, arrival on the seventh floor continued to baffle her. "Less question... more action."

Sasha was quite aware that she could use this to her greater advantage.

Cubicle after cubicle Sasha strode passed until reaching the head office. She cursed, checking the door even anticipating it would be automatically locked. Encasing it was small windows, giving view from the outside. The obstacle didn't prove any barrier between her and the objective that needed to be achieved.

Grabbing the closest mobile chair, Sasha took all of her force to break the glass. She had smirked to herself, shifting through now broken glass to open up the office door. Making her way inside, the design, knickknacks among other nice trophies displayed that perhaps whoever had been CEO or Manager of this building was paid well. Very well. Higher standards, but lack of morons.

Sasha spotted the head office computer further away from her. She swiftly approached it to see if information had been immediately available. Giving a double take, she turned on the computer. As soon as the screen required. Sasha was no hacker. Her fist slammed on the desk. "Damn it. I couldn't have come this far for nothing."

The soft glow that illuminated the room caught Sasha's attention. Her head lifted up, now settling on the imbalance of the wall and the tapestry. There had been something odd about it that wasn't noticeable by the naked eye. Safe bet something was hidden behind it. Searching the desk, she found a small letter opener type object.

Standing up from the desk, Sasha plunged the letter opener into the tapestry. The result of such made her grin. There had been a hole in the wall. With ease, she tore the cloth revealing what she could identify as a business log. This must have been the manifest. This could confirm her speculations. "Not so secret anymore... is it?" She mumbled to herself, tumbling through the manifest.

Uninteresting information presented itself to her. Journal and Diary entries, transactions, even business deals. Nothing concerning her that needed more in-depth research. Page after page was loaded with helpful information, but not what she wanted. Sasha knew still that the book could travel with her if this was the only copy. It could come in handy for the Vercetti Family. The manifest and its noted cargo could compensate for all the damages. Including her own.

Several paged in, Sasha arrived at something of use.

West Docks Pier 400

Marston Merchandise

Weekend Pick-Up

Crate #13

"Storage contains two rifles, one revolver, and a double barrelled shotgun. Mr. Crawford has been willing enough to pay double and an extra thank you gift to his special associate to obtain this shipment. This also includes a small pouch of cut gems. Make sure it gets into the right hands without much trouble."

"Pay dirt." Sasha said to herself.

"FREEZE! HANDS UP IN THE AIR!" Yes, perhaps everything had been a little too accessible. Sasha turned her attention towards who was yelling. "Pier Patrol, 10-23. We have a 10-32 in progress. I repeat a 10-32 in progress. 10-62 requesting backup."

The book was going to travel with her either way. No more people had to die. Sasha gingerly placed the manifest back into the hole in the wall. "Your worst sin tonight is the beam of your flashlight, officer." She mentions, slowly reaching for her handgun tucked behind her right hip. "You're only making it harder for yourself."

"Were you the one responsible for the massacre surrounding the warehouse?" The officer asked. "That could land you a few years in jail, ma'am. State your name."

Sasha was on the clock. The idiot already called in for backup. Drawing her pistol, she shot his right leg. "Some clueless schmuck you are... you could have just left here."

The officer, now screaming in pain projected his anger directly towards Sasha. "You bitch! Why did you have to go and shoot me?! You fucking shot me!"

"No hard feelings, officer. I know you're just trying to do your job. I just can't have you trailing me. Give me-" Sasha forcefully grasped one of the officer's available hands, guiding him to apply pressure to the fresh wound. "-give me your damn hand! Pressure. You're going to live. I'm sorry you got caught in the middle of all this."

Getting back on her feet and snatching the manifest, Sasha bolted down the space and towards the elevator. Would it have been any other day. She shook her head at that somber thought. Cargo Manifest in one hand, pistol in the other. Sasha calculated twenty minutes, but if the officer was to call back... then she had ten. Anxiety had built to this point right when the elevator arrived at her destination.

Opening the page to the manifest, Sasha double checked the Marston Crate Number. She let out a stressful sigh noticing that the crates filling the warehouse were of all sizes. More than likely with how it was ordered? It had been one of the bigger crates. Other items of interest to the person of interest that was willing enough to buy hot merchandise? Crawford wouldn't undersell if he found anyone suitable.

Storage on person and securing the Marston Legacy wasn't the problem. It was trying to find something to help her pry open the crate in question. She needed a crowbar. There had to be a worker's lounge or break area. There were always spare tools in a warehouse as large as this one. She had been almost certain. Now only if she could find out where that room was...

Dashing around the edges of the main floor, Sasha pushed her limits having then found what appeared to be a locker room. Better than nothing. She revolted at the smell upon opening the door. "Personal hygiene isn't on that list in your company... is it fellas?" Such a rancid smell.

Locker after locker, Sasha opened them. At least the ones that weren't locked. Personal belongings didn't interest her. After the fifth locker, she found what looked like to her a bar to open a manhole cover. It would have to do... time wasn't on her side. Rushing out of the break room and scanning numbers of various crates, Sasha's adrenaline had been pumping.

Slamming the makeshift crowbar into Crate Number Thirteen, the wood creaked under her will. Breaking a few boards, straw and other various packaging spilled onto the ground. Kneeling down into the crate, Sasha dug into the crate, hitting a metal crate. Flipping open the casing, there was the first heirloom in question: John Marston's Cattleman Revolver. It's engravings shining in the dim light reflected in a sigh of relief.

Sasha felt vindicated. She was on the right track. "Sorry, John. You would be rolling in your grave if you found out what happened to Lance... to your family legacy. All of this... every bit that has taken place falls on my shoulders. Forgive me."

Continuing to dig, Sasha was able to find Marston's Carcano and Winchester Rifles, even his Double Barreled Shotgun came into her possession. Taking a moment to stuff them into the duffel-bag she brought along. Her primary objective was now complete. As she situated herself, the mentioned pouch of cut-gems from the manifest note dropped right into her lap.

Sasha opened the pouch. A few chuckles escaped her throat. "Well, since I'm in here. I might as well pick up something for myself." She supposed that with the taking of precious gems they could categorize her as a thief. Dusting off any dust and debris, she took a moment to think about what got her in this place. "Garett trusted you, Crawford. We all did... were were a close knit family. Why destroy it over what would be otherwise priceless heirlooms?"

Flashing blue and red lights flooded the area just as soon as she tossed the gem pouch into her duffel-bag. Echoes of police officers entered through the other side of the warehouse. Sasha knew she could buy herself time if she escaped where here motorcycle was waiting, but she needed to pull some risky stealth moves. She may have been adept at stealth, but there had still been a few times on record where she completely failed.

Sasha wouldn't- couldn't give them the satisfaction of capturing a Vercetti this night. As soon as the area was more clear, she made a break to the back of the warehouse and onto her Bati. She didn't think twice shoving her keys into the ignition. Chaos followed as Sasha fled the scene. It wasn't known of LSPD were in hot pursuit. She definitely wasn't going to stick around and find out.

Squeezing the throttle of her Bati, Sasha escape route was straight into the bridge of Cypress Flats. Through her fogged mind, adrenaline ran rampant. Once she got home, she knew everything would be on track again. Taking a deep breath, a jolt of uncertainty corroded her mind. Some reckless driver merged into her lane, causing Sasha to slam on her breaks.

"God damn it!" Her voice yelped, forcing her body to lean right. "Learn how to fucking drive you... YOU ASSHOLE!" Sasha in that moment lost control of her Bati. She quickly received road rash, feeling the asphalt scrape and tear at her jeans.

Sasha tumbled straight into El Burro Heights. She had officially accepted her defeat. Staring at her scrapped all to hell paint job of her new motorcycle. Without even examining her body, she could feel blood soaking her clothes from a reopened stitch. Sasha had even ripped off her motorcycle helmet, tossing it towards her Bati, watching it bounce slightly.

The pain didn't change Sasha's sense of victory, however. She had a devilishly long grin across her face. "I won, Aldrick. I fucking WON you bastard. Now all that's left is your god damn head on a pike." For once in quite a long time, Sasha felt completely satisfied. Having accomplished the unthinkable.