Blueprints
"We need to take care of the Aryans, now." Carl looked away from his two companions as they drove around under the darkness that betwixt San Fierro.
Cesar chipped in, "There are two possible places we can go to suppress them, an old biker bar or 'The Coalition' building."
"Coalition building?" Carl replied, driving towards the bar.
"Yeah, it's some old money, racist pit. Some bastards in a committee, like a political party."
Sweet opened his eyes wide, "You all clued up on the shit huh?"
"You gotta be when you're part of a minority family living in the Melting Pot!"
They laughed but Sweet pulled out an AK47 from under the seat, it had a silencer attached, compliments of the Mountain Cloud members. "Man, I'm glad you got friendly with Woozie Carl, I'm gonna be teaching these ignorant pricks a lesson and they won't even know it."
Cesar pulled out a pistol with similar calibrations, handing Carl some clothes whilst he was still driving.
"Here's the bar." A large sign greeted them, it almost eclipsed the bar from the angle they were at. It read 'The Pitbull' and the men got out of the car, Sweet put the rifle in a barrel as Carl and Cesar changed into workers uniforms behind the building. The denim overalls were met with a smile from Sweet.
"Glad I ain't going in there, I'll keep the car running."
Carl and Cesar handled the barrel together, pretending it was full of beer. An overweight biker was sat at the back of the bar, his leather vest tiny over his white t-shirt.
"Hey; delivery." Carl piped up.
The man rubbed from the bottom of his nose down his greying beard, hints of blonde long past hovering amongst the bleakness. He studied the two men.
"Thought you people were meant to be athletic or whatever." Carl could see Cesar bite down on his bottom set of teeth, grinding them together.
"How many barrels is there? I thought we weren't getting them until next week?"
"Uh...five more."
"Well boy, I suggest you two fags hurry the fuck up, two per barrel? You'll be in my way for hours." He lit up a cigarette and ignored them as their scowls fixated on his pudgy face.
They put the barrel down inside the cellar, Cesar rushed to talk to Carl. "I am NOT standing for that. That fat puta needs to be put out of his small mind. Fucking pendejo."
"Cees, not now, we can get him later. We need kill the more dangerous bigots first."
Sliding the lid off, Cesar picked up the AK. "Which do you want? AK or pea shooter?"
"Gimme the AK, I'll catch them off guard whilst you hold up the bar staff."
They walked up the cellar and through the kitchen, nobody inhabited it, closed for the night. Cesar cracked a door open, the rumble of voices was louder now. "Grab the barmaid." Cesar agreed and wrapped his arm around her neck, the voices stunned and eyes focusing on him. Carl burst through the door, making others jump.
"A'ight, now we got your attention, how about some answers." Carl aimed down the sights at various members of the bar, hoping to goad some Aryan. He did. A man with tattoos from his head roamed towards the 'V' of his grey vest, hiding underneath and flowing for what seemed like forever.
"Look what we have here, a spic and a spade." Carl swallowed the remark and scanned for people laughing or grinning. Next to nothing.
"Fuck you. You're gonna tell us where 'The Coalition' building is."
"Fuck me?" He held his hands up, "Since when could you talk to any of us like we're the 'help'? You ain't allowed."
"Because we got the guns and you by the balls dickhead."
"I bet you'd like that queer."
Carl fired a shot at the Aryan's leg, he collapsed and screamed in pain. Aiming at the crowd of people once more.
"Now that I have your attention..." An older man came downstairs and Carl readied his aim, he was the owner.
"What the hell is going on here?"
"Hands up you old fuck."
"Let go of my wife!"
"Do you know where the Coalition is?"
"Yes!" Please, anything!" He trembled.
"Cesar, let her go."
"You sure?" Cesar asked.
"Yeah."
A sudden moving amongst the tables resulted in the Aryan drawing a pistol only to be quietly shot with rifle rounds. He fell through one poorly made stool and ten people from the crowd followed suit, drawing weapons. Cesar and Carl took each one down in succession. Regulars fled the place and Sweet took it as his cue to turn the engine on.
Cesar popped his head over the bar but Carl had already started talking to the owner.
"It's the most northern building in Fierro, under the first toll out of Fierro, easily missed but you can get there simply enough."
"Thank you. That helps."
Cesar made his way out the back of the building walking past the overweight man from before. He yelped, not noticing Carl about to hit him in the back of the head. They both kicked him as he cried in pain, Cesar ending him.
"Okay, well we know where to go at least." Carl said.
Opening the car doors they heard the sound of police sirens and Sweet drove off, following the directions Carl gave him.
Wu Zi Mu drew sloppily on the board, the marker heading in places it had never touched.
"Right. Well, Carl, Sweet and Cesar seem to have this job planned. I am making some last minute changes to some ideas I find fruitless."
"Yes boss," a grunt replied, "Would you like anything else?"
"I could do with a coffee. Long night!"
The three stared at politicians in Didier Sachs suits walking into the building, all members of this Coalition.
"You see those cockroaches just walking in there clear as day, like they don't have a care in the world." Sweet exclaimed.
Cesar opened the trunk as they waited in the parking lot on the road opposite.
"Go up the fire escape, there could be security on the roof."
Sweet and Carl got out of the car and walked on the pavement, ignoring the gang members guarding the door. The bodyguards looked at each other and both flashed their AK's that were handled behind them.
"No trespassing...fellas." One said.
"Oh no worries, we were just wondering what type of building this is? We work for the Grove Department of San Andreas." Sweet nonchalantly said.
"The what?"
Carl took over, "The Grove Department of San Andreas, a type of justice system."
"Not interested," said the other guard. "Just fuck off. You're not welcome."
"And you aren't welcome in San Andreas or its bustling gang community."
With that, Cesar held a pistol point blank to the guards head, shooting the other before he realised what had just happened.
"Go up top." Carl and Sweet did as they were told and crept up to see five Aryans sharing a joke. Sweet aimed his AK as did Carl, the brothers ended the security and Cesar had cleared a room. Stealth was key in wiping them out. They climbed back down the fire escape to see where Cesar had opened a window, the room had two dead bodies lying in awkward positions at opposite sides of the room. Cesar had finished stabbing somebody only to see Carl and Sweet in the corner of his eye. They all moved through the rooms taking out anyone they could identify as Aryan, the numbers were thinning with each wispy gunshot. A long hallway was the centre of the parallel walls. Carl, Cesar and Sweet crept up to the double doors of an office.
"Hands up motherfuckers." Sweet said quietly.
A large leather bound chair was behind a desk and in front of three wooden chairs, each occupied by a member of the Coalition for a Free America.
"What's the meaning of this?" The head member demanded.
"We are here to shut you down you ignorant fuck." Carl venomously spat.
The head looked more than worried by the appearance of two African Americans and a Mexican American holding guns inches from their faces.
"My dear boys..."
"Don't you call us boys. We're men, and we're here to shut you racist assholes the fuck up. Aryans are no longer." Sweet pressured the trigger.
"I'm sorry, I do not mean to be rude, it must be my age. Mr...?"
"Mister mind your fucking business."
"Okay. Well I am Humphrey Atkinson, the head of the CFFA..."
"We don't care." Cesar stared as he spoke, the underlings trembling. "We took care of your friends."
"The men we have here are simple security."
"Were. And isn't thirty men more than just simple security?"
"Mr...um...Lopez? You look like a Lopez I must say." A bead of sweat trickled down his face.
Cesar became impatient and amidst protests from Sweet he rammed the rifle butt into Atkinson's face.
"Barbarian..." Cesar smacked him again.
"Cesar!" Carl's words stopped him. "Atkinson, we haven't met but my brother and I, we're part of the Grove Street Family. A gang that has kept drugs and a lot of violence out of San Andreas for some time now. We are here to stop you and anyone like you."
"Oh...the irony. You people are nothing more than thugs, hoodlums from crack addled whores..."
Atkinson ranted as the other politicians shot fast eye contact towards each other and silently agreed to run out of the room. Sweet and Cesar gunned them down as silently as they had agreed to leave.
"You're next." Carl said.
"Please don't!"
"Shut your mouth."
"All I wanted was a white America! You...you..." The three men opened fire on the old man, a bloody, smoking lump sat on the leather chair.
The Aryans were finished.
Carl lifted his arms up in protest. "Can we please just rob this bank now?"
A.N. Hey everyone, thanks for reading and sorry this is late, I had a break over Christmas and New Years as we all should. Thanks again and I should put the next chapter up soon!