Disclaimer: I do not own the rights for the GTA game or the cities or the characters in the game...however I do own the city I made up and the characters that I myself created
A/N: Well...after a few months, of silence (including computer repair, and personal issues) I'M BACK!! I do apologize for not updating as much as I used to. It's just...well...I'm not a winter person when it comes to writing haha. But I am going to do my damnedest to update to you guys faster and a bit more often. Anyway, hope you guys love the chapter. Read and reply! ^__^
Randy was still driving down the freeway, while David was resting in the car napping. After what he did to Ramon, he earned the rest. He knew by the end of the day, that the cartel was going to be pissed after having their hired muscle burned as well as shot to death, and would be out for blood, but he didn't care. What's done is done, David thought as he shifted a bit in the seat. There was only one more in the group that had to be taken out.
"Pablo…" David muttered in sleep. "You're going to…"
Randy noticed and nudged him to wake up. "David, are you alright?"
David slowly came out of his nap and saw they were about to drive off the freeway. "Yeah…I'm fine."
"You were talking in your sleep. Just like you always did as a kid." Randy reminded.
"Well I don't do it as much as I used to before," David guaranteed. His cell phone rang loudly, causing David to pull it out of his pocket. "Hello?"
"Hey kid, its Paul."
David's eyes opened up a little bit more. "Oh hey, how is it going?"
"Fine, just fine David. Is your brother there?" Paul asked.
David glanced at his brother and answered. "Yeah, why?"
"Good, stop over at the mansion right away. I have a job for you two." Paul said and hung up the phone before David could reply.
"Hey Randy, we gotta head over to Pineapple Grove."
"For what?" Randy asked.
"We got some work to do for Paul." David simply put.
Randy got off on the freeway and doubled back heading towards Pineapple Grove. David leaned over, turning on the radio and listened in.
"This is Patrick Ross, on the scene in Little Cuba, in what happens to be hell on Earth here. Witnesses say a gunfight followed by a small chase towards this Xoom gas station, where it was set ablaze by a lone gunman. There have been several dozen injured, three of them critical, and only one burned to death. Police have not yet released the man that burned to death.
"In national news, President Alex Shrub is visiting…"
"Turn that off." Randy mumbled. "Last thing I need to hear is about that guy."
"Who? The president?" David asked.
"No…Ramon. I just want to forget about that bastard we roasted." Randy said making a turn.
"Wait…I roasted that guy, you stayed in the car watching it, like it was some prime time movie." David glared at him.
"Yeah, whatever." Randy said dropping the subject all together. "What do you think Paul wants with us?"
"What do you think? He probably wants us to put in some work."
As Randy made a final turn entering Pineapple Grove, he drove towards Paul's mansion. The gates automatically opened and Randy continued to drive inside. David noticed Paul yelling at his son.
"Not good…not good at all." David said nudging his brother.
Randy noticed as he turned the ignition off. "Probably fucked up again I'm guessing."
Johnny is always fucking up, David thought as he stepped out of the car. Randy followed as well. The two of them walked over to see Johnny looking pissed off as always, while Paul was red in the face.
"Is something the matter?" David asked.
"You're goddamn right there is," Paul said controlling his temper. "This little bastard won't do a simple fucking job for me because he thinks the I-9 Triads will be there."
"Where at?" Randy wondered exactly.
"All the way by the outskirts of the city there's this large farm, acres upon acres of farmland…it's being used to grow and process their drugs. Heroin, cocaine, weed and their number one product, SPANK." Paul said pulling out a cigarillo and lighting it.
The two brothers looked at each other and at Paul. David opened his mouth and said, "So what do you want us to do? Raid their little drug farm?"
"No…I want you raze the whole fucking place till its nothing but ash. Now heading straight down there in your car shooting them up would be suicide. But I do have an idea."
"What's the plan?" Randy inquired.
"There's this old war buddy of mine. The two of us were in the Australian-American war back in 1999. His name is Brett Hawkins; he was helicopter pilot as well as a damn good machine-gunner. He stayed in the military a bit till three and a half years ago, when he was medically discharged."
"Wounded in combat?" David asked.
"That, and the fact, he's batshit crazy. He currently lives out by the junkyard over on Manheim and Rockerstone." Paul said taking a drag on his cigarillo.
"Wait…the junkyard? That's on the other side of the city!" Randy complained.
"Yeah…is there a fucking point?" Paul demanded as he tapped his cigarillo and let the ashes fall on the ground.
"He doesn't have one," David butted in. "We'll head there, but how will he know that we were sent by you?"
"Good question. There's a code Brett and I used to have. You tell him 'Light it up Sparrow', and he'll know good and damn well I sent you. Just be real careful on how you approach him. The man is so mentally unstable; he would love to put a bullet into both of your heads. If anything, the man should have enough equipment to get the job taken care of."
"'Light it up Sparrow'…right." David said reminding himself aloud. "Come on Randy…let's jet to the junkyard."
"Why couldn't he just call us while we were on the road?" Randy complained again.
"Will you shut up Randy before Paul hears you?" David said getting inside the passenger side of the car.
"I'm just saying," Randy said as he got inside and started the car. "I'm just saying that Paul can't use common sense and called us about this problem?"
"Randy…can you ever use common sense and just shut the hell up? You're going to get us killed for that type of shit." David rolled his eyes while Randy drove back out of the drive way.
"You think we should go to Ammu-Nation just in case we need some ammo?" Randy suggested.
"Nah, the guy that Paul mentioned, should have some. Why spend a few dollars on some ammo, when we can get it for free someplace else?" David smiled.
Randy laughed. "That's pretty damn slick David. Alright then, but can we at least get something to eat?"
"We can eat, when we're done. Now make a right on the next light." David instructed.
"I know the way little brother. If you remember, we used to find stuff there and hang out every once in a while. I'ma take a shortcut," Randy said making the turn and driving towards an alley.
"Yeah I remember us going there. And by that I mean, me collecting the stuff you said looked good, and you ditching me there when it was nighttime and I couldn't find my way home till about 1am?" David said looking at his brother irritated.
"Hey, at least you made it home though. I had to cover your ass to mom saying you were already asleep." Randy protested.
"Yeah until, that one night I finally made it home around three in the morning, and there was mom, sitting outside of the porch with the belt in her hand and a look on her face that said 'you should've stayed out till it was time for me to work'.
"I still remembered how you ran around the house yelling 'Momma, I'm sorry! I won't do it again! Put the belt down, lets be civil about this!'" Randy mocked his brother's voice. "Man, mom went to work on your little ass."
"Yeah, she did alright. Not going to lie about that. I got you back though," David snickered.
"Yeah, how you figure?"
"Remember a week after that night; it was your sixteenth birthday, and that incident where you were slow dancing with that Hispanic girl and just when you were about to kiss her, you shit on yourself out of nowhere?"
Randy shuddered. "Yeah, I remember that well…so did every kid on the damn block. But how did you…"
David grinned even bigger. "I slipped a laxative in your drink as well as in the slice of the birthday cake you had. It was fast acting too." David laughed hysterically. "I did it again to you the next three days as well. Whatever you ate or drank, it had a bit of laxative in there as well."
"What the hell David! I felt sick for that whole week cause of you!" Randy yelled punching David in his shoulder. "That's just plain fucking cruel."
"It's what you get!" David continued laughing loosing his breath. "Admit it; I got you back real good didn't I?"
Randy paused for a moment, and slightly nodded. "Alright, you got me. I guess that makes us even. Just don't ever pull that kind of stunt on me again."
"I'll think about it." David snickered.
As the Clover exited out of the alley, Randy made a hard turn towards the industrial district. Several of its plants spewed forth thick black smoke from their stacks, while some of its workers were hollering at the occasional hooker walking down the sidewalk or talking to one. A few of them were heading towards either a taco stand, or heading to the Well Stacked Pizza Co for lunch. Randy continued driving straight for a few seconds, and entered the junkyard.
"How the hell are we supposed to find this Brett guy in this dump?" Randy asked as he stopped the Clover.
"I don't know…let's just find this guy, if he's even here." David said looking around.
As the two of them stepped out of the car, they were met with a sickening hot rush of air. Randy held his nose, while David felt like gagging. The stench was enough to make the dead rise up and, say it smelled bad. Both of them took a few minutes to adjust to the smell before they got a move on.
"Christ, this place stinks!" Randy shouted.
"Randy…it's a junkyard. What did you think the place was supposed to smell like? The Botanical Gardens?" David quipped as he shut the door.
"No smartass. It didn't smell this damn horrible when we used to go here." Randy remarked as he closed his door as well.
"Shit changes bro." David shrugged.
'Speaking of which," Randy said regretfully. "I think I just stepped in some."
The two walked and looked around and saw cars that were stripped, crushed, or burnt out. Various car parts were all over the place as well as tattered clothes, half eaten pieces of food inside containers and/or wrappers. The entire junkyard was full of miscellaneous stuff including a medium sized shack. The shack looked rusted from the outside as there were several lawn chairs, a park bench missing a leg, and a blackened picnic table.
"Must be the place," Randy whispered.
David looked at his brother as if he wanted to hit him. "This is the only place…you think there's anyone inside?"
Before Randy could open his mouth to speak, he felt a thump against the back of his thigh, causing him to stagger forward. David quickly turned around and felt the same thing only against his face. Both brothers were on the ground in a world of hurt; Randy holding his leg in pain, while David held the side of his face and spat out a bit of blood due to biting the inside of his cheek when he was hit.
"Well…what the fuck do we have here…couple of trespassers snooping around my place?"
David slowly looked up catching his breath and, found himself gazing at the barrel of a M249 SAW machinegun. He eyes darted to the person next to the machinegunner, and saw a woman, armed with a PA3 shotgun pointed at his brother. "Oh…shit." David mumbled feeling the sting of the hit.
"Shit indeed boy…is there a damn good reason my wife and I shouldn't butcher you two?" The man's voice boomed with authority.
Randy slowly turned and gazed at shotgun aimed at him. Smiling meekly, Randy said, "Listen sir…we're..." Randy was cut off again by the steel toed boot to his midsection.
"Shut up!" The woman cried out kicking him. "Don't you dare open your mouth when he asks you a question!" Randy fell on the ground coughing and hacking as David looked worried.
"Wh…what the fuck woman!? Was…that…" Randy speech was cut short by another kick to his stomach.
"Didn't I tell you to shut up?"
"Randy, just shut your mouth man, you're going to get us killed!" David yelled.
"You shut your mouth as well!" The man yelled out pressing the greasy barrel of the light machinegun against his forehead. "Unless you want the trigger of this mighty fine weapon pulled back."
Fuck…what was the code? David thought as he stared at the gun and the man wielding it at his face.
"I bet yall came here to repossess my stuff aren't ya? Well you can't have it! We found it."
"That's right!" The wife chirped in.
Shaking his head, David tried to convince them. "Look…we are not…"
"Shut it!" The man roared as he took a dirt covered boot and pinned David to the ground. "Open that mouth of yours again and, you'll be a fucking memory."
"You're not gonna do a goddamn thing!" Randy shouted. "So fuck you, fuck your guns, fuck your life, and fuck your bitch. Yah I'm talking to you, ya four-legged junkyard mutt!"
All three of them looked at him in shock.
We're fucked…we are so fucked, David thought as he stared in horror at the barrel of the SAW and at Randy. Great…they're gonna kill us…or rape us…or kill us THEN rape us…or the other way around! Think goddamnit, THINK! What was that code? Sparrow something…
"I oughta fucking splatter your skull all over this yard! Who the hell are you calling a bitch!?" The wife put emphasis on the word 'bitch' as she swung her shotgun at Randy. "A four-legged junkyard mutt at that! You little…" She pumped her shotgun once and pressed against Randy's mouth. "Say it again! I dare you! I double dare you!"
"You know what…I say we just kill em, and dump their bodies near the old tires…nobody will find them." The man grinned. He cocked his light machinegun and grinned almost laughing manically. "Any last requests before you become brown bread?"
The code. What the fuck was it…come on David think…wait…hold on…I GOT IT! David thought as he smirked. "Yeah…I do. Light it up Sparrow."
The SAW carrying man stopped grinning as his eyes twitched. He took a step back away from David shaking his head. He took another step and dropped the M249 on the ground.
"Baby? What's the matter?" His wife said worried moving the shotgun away from Randy and walked over to her husband.
Randy looked at David and then back at the armed couple. "Yeah, that's right. Light it up Sparrow."
"What the hell did you do to my man?" The wife cried out scared. "Yall better talk right now!"
"Stand down, Betty." The man said sighing.
"What?"
"You hard of hearing woman? I said stand the fuck down!" The man yelled to which made his wife frustrated and, throw her shotgun to the ground. He then turned and looked at Randy and David as; he pulled a wet cigarette and lit up. "Ok, fellas. You aren't the repo men, you're not undercover cops, and you aren't trying to rob me. You just bought yourself a minute of peace from me. So talk fast. How do you know that code for starters?"
"Paul told us to come to you," David said calmly yet nervous to what he would try.
"Paul Forelli. Does the name ring a bell there solider?" Randy interrupted.
"Yeah…it does." The man extended both his hands to help them up as an apologetic gesture. He then saluted to both of them. "Captain Brett Hawkins, 5th platoon, Omega squad …what can I do for you boys today?"
"Paul need's your help." David simply said brushing the dirt off himself.
"Well anything for a fellow leatherneck. I've heard he's made something of himself since he was discharged. What does he need?" Brett said picking up his M249 and resting it on the blackened picnic table.
"Over in the outskirts of the city, there is a farm…a farm growing SPANK. Paul wants to know if you have the means to level the place." David as he sat himself down on the broken down bench.
"That depends on how you wanna level it." Brett grinned. "Come on in. You boys want a beer?"
"No thanks," David said as they walked inside.
"Sure." Randy said. "So…was your wife in the marine corps as well?"
"No," Betty said sourly. "National Guard."
"Oh…a weekend solider." Randy snickered. Both David and Brett laughed a bit.
"Oh, fuck off. You don't know what we go through, you know!" Betty said aggravated.
"Yea sure...a weekend a month. Such torture for you." Randy continued with snide remarks.
"Little good for nothin' jackass." Betty mumbled under her breath.
"Relax, dear. He's just joking with you." Brett butted in.
"Was he really when he called me…how did you say? A 'four-legged junkyard mutt'?" Betty demanded crossing her arms.
David nudged Randy quickly. "Of course I was. I'm just full of laughs ya know."
"Yeah you're sure full of something else, that's for damn sure." Betty muttered and walked over to sit down near a workbench.
"So anyway Brett, we'll pay you if you can supply us with what you have."
"Paul is a comrade-in-arms. I'll do this one on the house." Brett stood up and grabbed a pair of keys off the wall and headed towards the door. "You two follow me. There's a large shed behind the place. You boys help yourself to whatever you're going to need. I'm going to fix up the copter."
"Wait, a copter?" Randy said surprised. "What kind?"
"You'll see it when you get there. It shouldn't take me no longer than half an hour to have her fueled and armed." Brett walked over to an old 1984 Bobcat pickup truck.
"You gonna help him out Betty?" David asked.
"Nope, I'm bout to fix up his dinner." Betty said as she got up and walked over to the small kitchenette. "Yall be careful."
"Well aren't you a sweetheart." Randy said sarcastically.
"As for you, I hope to take a few slugs to the back." Betty glared giving him the finger.
As David and Randy stepped outside and walked over to the other shed, Brett jumped in and started the Bobcat. "There's also some body armor in there too. I'll be back to pick you two up." He then drove out of sight, kicking up dust.
"I bet you he's probably got shitty equipment in there." Randy muttered to David.
"I highly doubt that. He a marine," David pointed out. "And who do you know owns a fucking M249 machine gun?"
"Whatever. I bet you fifty bucks, he got crappy rusted out guns." Randy rolled his eyes as he opened the doors to the shed. They could hardly see anything as it was dark and the smell of gun oil came from the room. "Where's the light switch?"
David moved his hand against the wall looking for the switch for a few seconds until he came up on one. "I think I found it."
"Well, flick it on then."
The moment Randy closed the large metal door, David turned on the switch. The two of them were introduced to a motherloade of weapons on the wall, on workbenches, and in large open boxes. Some of the other boxes contained magazines or tiny boxes of bullets in an assortment of different calibers. Straight ahead, were several tactical Kevlar vests along with throwing knives, different scopes for customization, and grenades. Both David and Randy stared with their mouths open. It both of them a few minutes to bring themselves back to normal.
"Goddamn! Do you see the shit he has in here?" Randy said looking around.
"Randy…we're in a large shack, filled with guns, ammo, body armor, and who knows what else…how the fuck can I not see that?!" David yelled. While Randy was looking around in admiration, David walked over to a workbench and picked up an USAS-12 automatic shotgun, and inspected it for a moment. "He's got some good stuff."
"Hell yeah, he does." Randy said as he grabbed a G36C from off the wall and looked at it for a few seconds before putting it back. He then headed over to another table and grabbed a pair of Colt Delta Elite's and a shoulder holster. "So what do you say little brother?"
"Tool up." David said with a grin.
David's first choice was an M-16A2 assault rifle with an M870 'Master Key' shotgun underneath, an FN P90 submachine gun, a tactical vest, ammo and grenades. He saw there were several pairs of steel-toed boots and walked over to find his size. Much to his luck, he found a pair that would fit him.
Randy felt like a kid in a candy store, as he went over and, grabbed an HK 21E medium machinegun from off the wall, including a hundred round belt pouch. Next, he went over to a gun rack, and pulled out an M79 grenade launcher. He then glanced and saw there were several boxes of 40mm grenades. The only difference is that the boxes were colored followed by a small piece of paper on a metal table, showing which color was for what kind of 40mm shell.
Silver= Standard fragmentation
Green=Smoke
Red=Incendiary
Blue= High Explosive
Yellow=Beehive
White= White Phosphorous
Grinning like a cat that caught a mouse, Randy grabbed a bandolier and, slipped one of each 40mm grenade in the loops. When he was finished, he grabbed a vest, bandolier, and his shoulder holster. He got them on quickly and waited for his brother. "You finished picking out what to wear?" Randy chuckled.
"Locked n' loaded." David said as he pumped the Master Key shotgun, and walked towards his brother. "You ready?"
"You know it." Randy said as he walked out of the shed, with David following behind.
The two of them waited for a little bit as it was late afternoon. Randy checked his ammo, while David leaned against the shed and closed his eyes. Betty stepped out and saw the two of them.
"Well, you two got some taste in weapons. I would have taken a SPAS-12 and a HG MG36 however." Betty commented on Randy.
"Well, thank God, I'm not like you." Randy muttered.
Betty ignored him and, looked at David still leaning against the wall with his eyes closed. "Taking a siesta?"
"Just getting my mind right for the shit about to happen," David replied, while taking slow breaths to relax.
"Well word of advice; try not to relax too much. People like that tend to get a bit lazy and next thing you know, you have three bullets in the chest, and two in the brain." Betty said seriously.
"I'll keep that in mind." David said thankfully.
"Well I have some advice for you Betty. Get back in the kitchen and, finish your man's dinner before he gets all pissed." Randy smirked.
"And as for you, go fuck yourself," Betty yelled. She calmed down for a moment and looked at David some more. "You know, you look like the type that should be picking up a pencil, and working at an office. Not some thug picking up a gun."
David opened his eyes and looked at her nodding. "It's my choice…might not be the best, but it's better than doing nothing."
The Bobcat pick-up truck came back, and Betty walked back to the shed. Brett looked at both David and Randy nodding. "You boys ready?"
"Yeah…let's do this before nightfall." David said walking over to the truck.
"Good idea, you boys get in the back." Brett ordered as he watched both of them get in the back.
"Is the helicopter fixed" Randy yelled.
"All fueled up and, armed for your killing pleasure." Brett laughed. He stepped on the pedal and drove off.
Both David and Randy held on as, the truck bounced up and down. Randy looked up and nearly fell and saw the helicopter that he was had fixed up. He grinned in excitement and sat back down.
David looked at his brother and nudged him. "What are you happy about?"
"He's got a Maverick. A fucking police helicopter," Randy said almost yelling.
"Not the Maverick buddy…that one you saw isn't even gassed up." Brett yelled.
"So which one are we going on?" David asked puzzled.
"That one," Brett pointed.
"Damn…that's a lot better than the Maverick." Randy said staring at the helicopter in awe.
It was a fully armed, black Annihilator gunship. There were several smudges including a couple of bullet holes around the sides but nowhere near the gas tank. It was well armed with Hydra and Hellfire missiles, including a high-powered minigun on both sides. It was an instrument of death for anyone who was the pilot, and gunner. It was also considered a nightmare to thugs and, criminals alike when they saw it hovering in the air.
"Doesn't NOOSE have shit like this?" David asked staring at it.
Brett stopped the truck and stepped out. "Yeah…but you can get one of these for the right price at police actions. Helicopters, yachts, hell, even high performance cars."
David made a mental note of that as he jumped out of the back of the tuck and walked with Brett. Randy followed suit and jogged to catch up with them.
"So who is piloting?" David asked.
"Me of course. You boys will be the gunners." Brett said opening the canopy.
"Don't you need a co-pilot though?" David asked as he headed towards the gunner's area of the massive gunship.
"Usually, but don't worry about that. I'm what you call multitasked." Brett chuckled. "Shit I almost forgot something," He ran back to the truck for a few seconds and came back. In his hand was a six-pack of Logger beer. "Can't go on a mission without one of these bad boys."
"I hear that, pass me one!" Randy yelled. Brett tossed a can to him.
"You want one David?" Brett asked. David shook his head no. "Good, more for me then!"
He ignored Brett and, examined the guns on both sides. While on his side there was an M240H Helicopter Mounted machinegun and ammo boxes cluttered together, the other side had an Mk 19 automatic grenade launcher with several boxes of 40mm grenades, and with each box having a color stripe on it. He remembered that Randy was drooling over an M79 earlier and, thought to himself that Randy would be better off using that.
"Well I already know what I'm going to use," David decided, and stayed right by the machinegun.
Finishing his beer, Randy said, "Fine by me. I want something that has a bit of kick in it," he said. He got on the other side and checked it out, with a look of glee on his face.
"Well now, let's kick up some traveling music and kick some ass! Hoorah!" Brett screamed as he took a swig from his beer. He belched loudly as, he turned on the ignition. "You two ever fired a gun from a helo?"
"Nah…but we'll make sure we get a little bit of practice before we get there!" David yelled as the rotors started moving. "You know I was wondering Brett. I never heard of the Australian-American war ever."
Brett rolled his eyes. "Oh, great, another fucking person who doesn't know anything about their U.S. history."
"I know my history Brett," David said defensively. "It's just that, after the Gulf war, there wasn't a war at all till 2001."
"HAVE YOU READ A HISTORY BOOK LATELY SON!?" Brett yelled. He felt like getting off his seat and, slapping the shit out of David. "Everyone knows about that war. I didn't do three tours, take boomerang shrapnel, and earn two purple hearts and a silver star, so I can have some punk like you deny history. Fucking Aussies were crazy as hell. You know those assholes will tie a frag grenade to a boomerang and chuck it at you? Hell, it's some crazy shit!"
Why do I get the feeling he's already drunk, David thought.
Once Brett checked everything out, he turned on the radio and the sound of 'Big Gun' from AC/DC blared loudly from the speakers. He then put a cigarette in his mouth. The moment he lit it, and took a puff, he shouted, "Alright boys! LETS ROCK N' ROLL!"
The Annihilator slowly rose up from off the ground. David felt a little uneasy in his stomach as the gunship was at now reaching up to hundred feet. Once it reached up to their height, the helicopter pushed forward towards their job through the clear afternoon sky.