Chapter XIX

When chaos ensnared the city of Los Santos only a select few groups of people there were places others could hole themselves without being noticed by the outside public. Perhaps that or not everyone bought into the media. If there was one advantage Tommy admired about this generation was that everyone was mobile and gradually gained a short attention span.

Yet the small qualities he missed most from others was simple. Patience and loyalty. Ones that could define a personality were like throwing stones in a glass house.

Tommy sat with his son Marcello on the roof terrace of the Vinewood Bowl Cafe. It was properly isolated. He couldn't say there was much of a view with the surrounding mountains. When it came down to simplicity, Marcello had the right idea. Sitting in the shade with a cigarette in his mouth and scoffing at the headlines of today's newspaper.

His eyes glimpsed towards the sun, covering his eyes. Expecting something. "You know they said it was going to rain."

Tommy being blinded by the same sun made him shake his head in disagreement. "Since when does the weatherman predict the weather?"

Marcello folded his newspaper, throwing it onto the table in front of them. "I don't know, Tom. Since the Post Office delivered the same time everyday. Consistency is what everyone is looking for... if that's the answer."

Their conversation shifted as Tommy was shaded by familiar faces. There had been a slight flinch to Tommy. His actions quicker than thought. His legs pushed away the chair he was wrapped around. Taking into his arms his once wounded daughter in his arms. It was hard to interpret that the tears from Sasha were pain or she too was happy to finally see him after months of hiding.

Sasha bore with her father emotions, burying herself in his embrace. "Yeah? What happened with my raging bear of a father? One who was yelling at Michael over the phone? You've always been an emotional man, Tom."

In a slight contradiction, Sasha spoke too soon. "You..." Tommy sighed, getting a good extended admiration of his daughter. "Are a disappointment, Sasha." Panic and fear developed behind his eyes. Still overjoyed with their small reunion. "What the hell were you thinking, baby girl? What-" Tommy gripped Sasha's shoulders. "-the hell were you thinking?!"

"Dad, I-"

"What the fuck were you thinking going after Lance Marston's Legacy knowing Crawford?! This spiraled into a veracious manhunt! Aldrick-"

Michael reached out, breaking Tommy's dismay. Assuring that Tommy would accidentally injure Sasha with physical aversion. "That's enough, Tommy. You don't want to cause a scene."

There had been a mirror self Michael witnessed as Tommy was quick to dismiss Michael's request. Looking over his shoulders to finish his thought process. "It was enough that he was manipulating you, Sasha!"

This was enough to gain the attention of Marcello, standing to attend to his father's trepidation. "Tommy, that's enough." He attempted pulling his dad back down into reality.

"You got yourself shot then decided it was a bright idea to chase after a Family Legacy that none of us know really HOLD any monetary value!"

"DAD!" Marcello and Sasha yelled in unison. It had been a good call as well seeing eyes were starting to notice.

Family values shattered the illusion that they were on the same page. When no one really knew what took place, nor would they have much needed base respect for one another. Tommy listened to his children, resting himself back into his chair at the table. He took his time to allow the dust to settle. Flicking out his stylized zippo, lighting a cigarette. The others soon followed suit joining him at the table. Deescalating the confrontation.

Tommy reflected on his actions, offering Michael a cigarette. In which Michael accepted. "Even with Sasha's erratic behavior. I should be thanking you for being two steps ahead. I'm glad Sasha has faith in someone your stature, Mr. DeSanta. Consider yourself a... trusted adversary."

Their words exchanged as Tommy reached to light Michael's cigarette as a courtesy. Michael took a deep breath. Feeling the effects of the nicotine before leaning back into his chair. "Pleasure is all mine, Tom. Even if your daughter can be a bit of a handful." He licked his lips, enjoying the unique taste of Vercetti's brand of chosen cigarettes. "Now are we going to discuss our business regarding Aldrick Crawford or are we losing our window of opportunity?"

"Us laying low was the inevitable, Dad. Crawford would have wanted the Vercetti Family dead soon enough." Sasha gave a somber concern as Marcello reached for her hand. "We were the fools to have trusted Aldrick from the start. You KNEW the moment you sent your stand in Garret to play such a magnificent role as a Vercetti."

Tommy watched his cigarette burn through Sasha's explanation. "Yes... I suppose everything was already set in place long before this came to a head." He took a long drag. "Even with great men who played their roles. Well-" Tommy had locked eyes with Sasha. "-too well. Crawford's rampage won't stop until-"

"How much more does this family have to lose, Dad? Our Diamond Casino Penthouse was destroyed. People have died. Lance no longer being with us? Do you need another excuse?" Marcello revealed that he was just as frustrated with results.

"Even if I told every single one of you not to be involved because it was personal. You would deny my sentiment. Declaring that all of you were indeed involved one way-" Tommy's sights settled on Michael and his wits. "-or another."

Sasha was visibly shaking from the consideration of Lance's role in Aldrick's madness. "I know Aldrick was important, but I wasn't about to sit on my ass and do nothing, Tommy." The party turned their attention towards Sasha. "I'm just as driven to see Crawford's head on a damn pike. I want him dead. I want to make myself clear."

"You're loud and clear, Sasha. Your mistake was stealing back a Legacy that wasn't ours. We have people on the inside. Tracking down orders, people and planning heists is what our family and associates excel with reputation alone. You being kidnapped-"

"Will never fucking happen. You know my black widow techniques. I would love to see that bastard get close to me and-"

"He already took advantage of you, Sasha. He got close to you. You let your guard down."

"That's just pure speculation, Tom. Relax. The both of you. You're alive! Why don't you thank Mikey and count your god damn blessings? Crawford is an unhinged madman. There's always a high probability that he was going to be a pain."

"So then we demonstrate what the Vercetti Family can accomplish. We're going to be taking a... classic approach. We have a lot to plan if everyone cooperates. There are two methods should one fail seeing we only get one shot. The first method might be more feasible. The only man that could have identified Sasha was shot point blank by Crawford. It damaged any chance in finding out Sasha was still breathing."

"We split up the group in order to accomplish stealth infiltration. That's Sasha's specialty. Your plan is suicide." Marcello spoke his mind, defending his kid sister. "From what I can identify, Sasha is still very much in recovery. This doubles because of her antics in retrieving the Marston Legacy."

"Either way it will be a few days before I can have everyone report. We then meet at the safehouse and proceed. Any remaining time we have has been lost. My only real problem with all of you is how spontaneous your behavior can-"

Sound of Sasha standing from her scrapping chair was indication enough that the weight of the situation was weight down upon her. As foolish as Tommy might have labeled her. There was no denying her natural talent and skill within the family. Tommy pushed himself to lean back in his chair. Anticipating what action to take next.

Sasha choked back a few tears in order to speak her mind. She made direct attempts in shielding her face so that her family wouldn't catch her embarrassment. Simply out the way she found it difficult to express herself carved through her spirit like a knife. Something had been triggered inside Sasha's head. A distant memory, perhaps.

Michael was first on his feet as Sasha excused herself to the restroom for a moment. For the first time he must have been more than mildly annoyed with Tommy. "Oh now I'm certain there's something you're not telling me."

Tommy didn't want anymore attention drawn to their table. He motioned for Michael to sit back down and relax. Michael on his end didn't seem too keen following those instructions. Tommy gave an elongated sigh and shrugged. "When Sasha was first arranged to play negotiations with Aldrick. That's when Lance and her got involved. It wasn't a state secret. Everyone knew. They were happy."

"Already know that, Tommy." Michael was counting the minutes for a second explanation.

"Little did we know-" Tommy motioned to continue though impatient for being interrupted. "-that Lance himself concealed information the best he could relating to his cancer. Lance would die and Sasha insisted on continuing her mission. As unstable this would become. You don't need to be informed of that now. Do you Michael?"

"Not at all. I'm assuming that's what lead her to cut contact with the family for awhile. When her and I met?" Piecing everything together on the Vercetti side of things.

"You've been a blessing in more than one way to this family, Michael." Marcello had to remind. Knowing well of what took place. His heart was breaking for Sasha. "You made choices, Decisions that have influenced her. Kept her safe. Kept her alive."

"Give me a moment. I'll be back with her." Michael assured, departing to locate Sasha.

Tommy kept his mouth shut, making a guess as to where Michael was out of earshot before speaking his mind. Marcello leaned forward in his chair, being disapproving of his father's vocal concern. He was never been known to hold back. "That lie will catch up to the both of us, Tom. Lance didn't perrish alone. It wasn't a damn mystery. We knew what happened."

"Truth be told, Marcello. I'm certain your sister knows. Like you. Like me. She's a Vercetti. Lance didn't die of his cancer. Crawford killed him. Sasha knows. She doesn't need evidence or proof. Only her malice. With or without us. She would take matters into her own hands."

Marcello interlaced his hands, not breaking eye contact with his father. "Brave enough for you to assume Sasha knows the truth behind Lance's death."

"You're just gonna have to trust me on that part, Marcello. This family doesn't need bullshit lies. Would it entirely change Sasha's perspective with the knowledge of Lance's eventual death? I consider that foresight a family trait. Something I learned in my younger days. The both of you will adapt overtime to that ability. It becomes a gut instinct."

Michael scaled the stairs to where Sasha was temporarily hiding herself. She needed time before facing the public again. He reached out to her, embracing her his his hold. Sasha did all she could and hid her face from passing eyes. Michael cradled her head in hopes of giving her comfort. "I'm sorry your dad is just as stubborn as you are. You doing okay?"

"Yeah." Sasha murmured into Michael left ear. "I'm just a little tired. I could use a nap."

Michael recolonized that phrasing. He took a free hand, tucking her hair behind her ear. He saw and knew it wasn't communication that was the problem. She was beginning to process the loss of which wasn't getting any better. She was terrified. Scared. "Everything will go back to normal soon. I promise, Sasha. We'll all celebrate after."

Dread was forming in the back of Sasha's mind. She stared at Michael like a deer in the headlights. "But... your family..." The reality hitting her harder than ever before. "You'll be able to go back home to your family." The phrasing of her words made her push Michael away. "That's the difference between you and I, Michael. I don't have anyone."

Sasha was physically enduring more pain. Storming outside the cafe leaving Michael dumbfound. The only solution he could think about was to return back to Sasha's family. Michael knew that he wasn't about to win this battle alone. Dashing back up the stairs towards Tommy, he called for the Vercetti Family without much explanation.

Tommy sprinted passed Michael giving chase to Sasha with Marcello in tow. In the back of everyone's head Michael did the right thing informing concerning members so that Sasha wouldn't pull anything reckless. Even at his age, Tommy demonstrated that he could keep pace if it meant family were involved.

Marcello and Michael were close behind, but not at the same pace as Tommy. The scene had unfolded as Tommy caught Sasha at the cherry blossom tree across the way. Being on high alert, Marcello pulled Michael away from the street before oncoming traffic collided with the party. He kept a light enough grip on Michael's suit collar. It was safe to observe from that distance that Sasha wasn't completely in her head.

That she needed to vent her concerns with Tommy.

Marcello had the powering factor to influence and encourage Michael to halt his pursuit. From a distance the both of them watch a screaming match unravel itself. The one voicing most perspective had been Sasha. There had to be a brutal compromise through their confrontation. Would it have been Michael's place to interfere?

Michael wanted confirmation from Marcello where he had shook his head. "No, Mikey. Let this happen. This was bound to take place one form or another. Sasha needs to be heard and Tommy needs to learn to consider his children."

Michael had nodded, seeing illusions and flashbacks to his arguments with his own daughter Tracey. Would she react the same way? Would she did everything in her power to hide away from the world if things got rough? Would she ask for her family to listen? Questions cycled through Michael's anxiety.

After awhile, Sasha accepted her defeat. Begging for her father to listen. To forgive her for her actions. Anything and everything that she could address with him. She had been on her knees, Unable to hoist herself her feet. Through actions, the party watched as Tommy knelt down next to Sasha. Having then said something neither Marcello or Michael could overhear before Tommy had nestled Sasha in his arms.

It was in that moment, Michael understood the phrase Sasha was dreading earlier. When all of this was over, he had a family to return home. Nothing would ever change that small detail.