Chapter 12: Restitution
Michael walked outside the executive office at Richards Majestic, he wore his gray suit and sunglasses. He walked to his Obey Tailgater and got inside, he drove off and left the studio. As he drove down the street, his phone rang. It was Trevor, so Michael answered it. "Hello?" Michael asked into the phone. "Mikey. Come on by the club, we heard back from Ancelotti." Trevor told Michael. "Hold on, I'll be there soon." Michael replied. Which club am I going?" Michael asked. "Kranks. Our new business venture in Vespucci." Trevor replied. "Frank, Packie, and Steph are already here." Trevor replied. "Okay, on my way." Michael replied. He hung up the phone and lit a cigarette, he smoked as he drove while "I Want A New Drug" by Huey Lewis and The News played. Michael loved classic rock, it took him back to his glory days. He daydreamed about his teenage years as the song played.
At Kranks, Trevor Packie were snorting some coke as they loaded their firearms. Stephanie was standing behind the bar, wiping it down. She stopped to pour herself a shot of bourbon, she gulped the shot down and slammed the glass on the counter. Franklin walked in the door, he looked at the bar where the other three were. "What's happenin'?" Frank asked them. "Franklin! Get over here." Trevor told Franklin. As Franklin walked to the bar, the front door opened again and Michael walked through. They all met at the bar, where Trevor was loading his assault rifle. "So, you said Ancelotti got ahold of you. What does he want?" Michael asked Trevor. "He wants to arrange a meeting in Vinewood hills, he told us if he brought princess, then he would pardon us." Trevor replied. "And you trust him?" Michael asked Trevor. "Absolutely not, if you can count of those olive picking bastards for anything it's deceit. They'll eat with their enemies and shoot them from behind." Trevor replied. "So, what's the plan." Michael asked. "Don't really have one, we take the girl to the meeting. And we'll go from there." Trevor replied.
Michael looked at the other three, they were looking content with the proposition. "So, you're on board with this?" Michael asked them. "Hey, man. I just found out myself. I don't know or care what happens, as long as it means we ain't walking around with prices on our heads." Franklin replied. Packie and Steph looked at him. "We're down, shit." Packie told Michael. He sighed for a moment, then looked at Trevor. "Fuck it, load her up." Michael told Trevor. "Yes!" Trevor exclaimed. The three walked in the back, where Gracie was being held in the storage room. Gracie was bound and gagged, she was naked with cuts, welts, and bruises all over her body. On her right thigh was "For Wade" carved into the skin. She was sobbing through the gag, and she smelled horrible. "Jesus, Trevor." Michael said with a look of disgust. Packie picked Gracie up and packed her on his shoulder, they walked out back to a black van. Packie unloaded Gracie into the van, he, Franklin, and Stephanie got in the back with her. Michael took the wheel, and Trevor rode shotgun.
The crew drove through Los Santos, they were careful to obey traffic laws as not to draw suspicion. "So, what happens after we give them the girl? I know they're not going to let us walk, not with her mutilated like she is." Michael asked Trevor. "What happens is, we enjoy ourselves. We got a new club, we got money. And with any luck, the ob will make their exit after seeing what monsters they have on their hands." Trevor replied. Michael drove up Vinewood Hills, the meeting was behimd the Vinewood sign. The van struggled on the hill, but Michael managed to make it. They parked behind the sign at a nearby parking lot. Trevor pulled out his phone and dialed a number. "Hey, tell your boss that we made it. Just waiting on him." Trevor said before hanging up the phone. He got out of the van and lit a bowl, he hit the meth pipe and coughed before putting the bowl away.
Four black vans, loaded with mobsters, followed by a stretch limo and four more vans drove up. They parked a few feet away from Trevor, every mobster got out. There must have been twenty mobsters in the parking lot. Don Ancelotti got out, he walked over to Trevor. "Mr. Philips, you are a very troublesome man." He told Trevor. "Certified insanity." Trevor replied enthusiastically. "My daughter, where is she?" Ancelotti asked. "Right here." Packie replied. He opened the van, and Gracie got out. Ancelotti was horrified at the sight, he looked at Trevor. "What have you done?" He asked Trevor. "I disciplined a brat." Trevor replied. Trevor shoved Gracie lightly, motioning for her to step forward. She slowly walked towards her father, Trevor drew his pistol. "Oh, by the way. In lieu of restitution for Wade. Here's a present." Trevor said before shooting Gracie in the back of the head.
The rest pf the crew took cover, as the Mafia goons opened fire. Trevor put away his pistol and grabbed his assault rifle from the passenger seat of the van, he and his crew dispatched many of the mobsters. Old Man Ancelotti stood there with a shotgun, aiming at the van. He shot at the van several times, finally causing it to ignite. Trevor and his crew scattered away from the van, just before it exploded. Trevor stood up, he shot more mobsters. Ancelotti ducked behind his limo, he got on his phone. "Hey, we need reinforcements. We're getting cut down!" He shouted into the phone. "How many? Fuck how many! I need more men!" He said before hanging up the phone. Trevor grabbed a granade launcher laying on the ground, he aimed at the limo and fired. The limo exploded, sending Ancelotti flying through the air.
The reinforcements come in, and Trevor destroyed their vehicles as quick as they came in. The rest of the crew eliminated the mob, until only the Don remained. Trevor walked up to Ancelotti, who was crawling away from the wreckage. "This isn't over, Mr. Philips. I'll be waiting for you in Hell." The older man said as he coughed up blood. Trevor raised his right foot, and stomped Ancelotti's head in. He stomped six or seven more times, until the man was unrecognizable. He turned around and walked over to the rest of the crew. Michael looked at him, then at the mayhem, then back at Trevor. "I guess that's that then." He said. "Yeah, that's that. I could use a fucking drink." Trevor said as he walked past Michael and the rest. They all followed behind Trevor as he left the scene.