Hey, everyone. Long time, no see, and all that jazz. Just thought I'd clarify something before we begin.

The story is currently set in 2013. I know that Online is now way beyond 2013, but when I first wrote the original story (in 2015), Online was still set before the single-player story. Then came Gunrunning and a bunch of other updates that I probably won't get to.

In short, the bulk of this story will be pre-Gunrunning. I might do some of the early post-timeskip DLCs - especially Gunrunning, considering the hoplophile that is my main character. But a lot of the much later updates like the casino heist, Cayo Perico, the Dr. Dre update, all that stuff with the Fooliganz...I've never played any of those, so I probably couldn't write about them even if I wanted to.

Okay, that should do it. If you've read this far, I really appreciate you, and I hope you enjoy this chapter. :)

The elevator chugged its way up to the twenty-seventh floor. Alexia took in her surroundings; yellow fluorescent lights overhead buzzed like a swarm of flies in a morgue. The granite beneath her feet was dulled with age, and the steel walls around her bore several scrapes, dents, and what looked like old bullet marks.

Everything she knew about the Skulls' compound had come from her uncle. It was formerly a luxury apartment complex called Eclipse Towers. About nine years ago, the Skulls, then a much younger and crew, had been in need of a headquarters to run their expanding drug empire. Instead of the usual criminal's den, grimy Remus had wanted something more upscale, preferably with a nice view.

They'd filed into the building one day, fifty masked Skulls all wielding assault rifles. Remus himself had stridden confidently into the lobby, dressed head to toe in posh black, asking calmly if he could speak with the building's manager. The frightened young doorman sitting at the front desk hadn't known what to do. He'd called the building manager, who was immediately captured by Remus's men.

What had followed was a one-on-one, closed-door meeting between Remus and the building manager in the twenty-seventh-floor penthouse. Apparently, Remus had been so persuasive during this meeting that the manager had signed over complete ownership of the building to the Skulls, allowing them to legally evict all of its civilian residents. The crew was a lot less powerful back then, so Remus had wanted to avoid open violence during the eviction process, which would have attracted police. Considering this, Alexia was at a loss to explain the bullet holes she was looking at.

Naturally, the top-floor penthouse had gone to the boss. Alexia was on her way up there now to meet with him. Before leaving the clinic, Doctor Patel had made sure she could walk unassisted. Physically, she felt fine, apart from some scratchiness in her throat.

But mentally, she was beyond nervous. No longer was she a ten-year-old girl learning how to shoot guns with her doting uncle. Now, Alexia was a twenty-year-old ex-con, looking to prove herself to her criminal boss. She knew her uncle still loved her, but she also knew how high the stakes were going to be. If she didn't produce the results her uncle wanted, he would have no choice but to treat her like any other Black Skull who didn't perform.

A man standing next to her in the elevator scratched his nose. He was one of her uncle's bodyguards, tall and barrel-chested, with biceps the size of cannons. He was carrying a Combat MG, a hulking belt-fed machine gun that was commonly used by Navy SEALs.

To quell her anxiety, Alexia focused all of her attention on this gun, admiring its two-hundred-round drum magazine and its shiny platinum finish. Unlike other LMGs, this one didn't have an attachment for a bipod, so it couldn't be fired prone. Instead, it had to be fired from the hip by someone very strong.

Another reason to start working out. I may be small, but I can grow some muscles…Right?

She looked down at her scrawny frame. She was wearing her thrift store clothes from earlier that day, the red flannel over a Love Fist tank top and baggy jeans. For as long as she could remember, Alexia had worn boys' clothes so her brothers could have hand-me-downs. Girls' clothing was expensive, and Alexia didn't have any curves, nothing she could really show off in feminine clothes.

But still, that dress did feel nice…Maybe I could buy another one, after I make some money.

A cold breath filled Alexia's chest. She released the air through her nose, trying to calm her nerves as she passed the twentieth floor.

"You nervous or something?" the bodyguard asked. Alexia had been too shy to make conversation with him, but her anxiety had filled the room anyway.

"A-A little, yeah," she admitted. "It's been a while since I've seen him."

"Well, you being alive is about the only good news he's gotten tonight. So try to lighten up, okay? He's gonna need it."

Alexia thought about how her uncle must be taking everything. The crew he'd founded and led for the past ten years had just been attacked, and dozens of good men and women had been mowed down by miniguns. The way she saw it, the least she could do was try to lift her uncle's spirits in such a dark hour.

She looked up at the bodyguard. Her green pupils glinted harshly in the elevator lights, like crystalized sea water.

"Whatever he wants me to do, I'll do it. I think I owe him that much."

"We all do," said the bodyguard. "He broke me out of prison, a few years back. If it wasn't for him, I'd be stamping license plates up in Alderney right now."

"Same here." Alexia nodded. "South Yankton for me. He didn't break me out, but he helped me duck the cops."

"Well, if you ever end up in the clink, he'd probably stage a breakout just for you." He smirked. "Not too bad being the boss's niece, huh?"

"I-I guess not." Alexia returned a shy grin. "I'll try to save you guys the trouble, though."

Alexia felt the machinery lurch as it chugged the elevator car to a stop. The doors creaked open slowly, like curtains to another world, revealing a stunted white hallway flanked by ebony doors on either side.

The guard stepped out of the elevator, and Alexia followed him into a dimly lit hallway, a space as quiet as a tomb. As she walked, Alexia craned her neck to look up at the giant Black Skull logo that had been painted onto the far wall. It was smiling down at her, holding a lit cigar in its teeth. The logo was wearing an all-black suit and a black fedora, both of which were riddled with bullet holes. In its ghoulish hands were two assault rifles, crossed in an X pattern over its chest. Below was a gleaming replica of the Los Santos skyline, onto which some words had been inked: 'Black Skulls, Est. 2003 – Forever in Blood'.

That's so cool…I wonder who painted that? Alexia wondered. And what are all these skulls on the walls?

Standing sentinel in the hallway were a collection of black skull masks, of different shapes and sizes and in various stages of decay. They were mounted on the walls to Alexia's left and right, as if in a military formation leading up to the skull mural. Beneath each mask were gold plaques with writing etched into them. Alexia read one of them:

Anthony Gomez, Lieutenant. Died honorably, defending the compound from an LSPD raid. Half of this mask had been blown off, and what was left was still littered with buckshot.

Alexia's stomach grew tight. She quickly averted her eyes to another Skull mask, this one mostly intact.

Bill Jameson, Enforcer. Kidnapped and tortured by Roses. Eyes burned out, but never said a word. He lives on in the spirit of his brothers and sisters.

Holy shit…

A morbid part of her wanted to keep reading, wanted to see all the gruesome ways she could meet her end in this crew. However, the bodyguard was waiting for her. She averted her eyes and followed him.

Passing through the memorial hallway, it wasn't long before they reached two ivory doors, the only two on the entire floor. The guard reached into his combat vest and withdrew a plastic card, which he swiped through an electronic access port mounted next to the righthand door.

He pushed the door open wordlessly, leading Alexia into another short hallway flanked by two doors. She could immediately hear voices echoing down the corridor, engaging in what sounded like an animated discussion. She noticed that she recognized both of the voices involved.

The guard knocked on the door. "Hey, boss! Your niece is here."

"Ah, good. Let her in."

The huge bodyguard opened the door for Alexia. She wished she hadn't looked at that grisly exhibition, which had only increased her nerves. Taking another breath, she stepped through the threshold, her nerves steeled against the mounting anxiety she was feeling.

"Heyyy, there she is!" Damien opened his arms as she entered. "We were just talkin' about you, kid. You feeling okay?"

Alexia nodded, a timid smile crossing her face. Her eyes weren't focused on Damien, who was sitting cross-legged in front of a stately oak wood desk. Instead, she was fixated on the figure standing in front of a whiteboard behind the desk. The man was rail thin, and so tall that he obscured most of the far wall.

"H-hi, uncle."

A smile crossed the tall man's wrinkled mouth – he used to have a mustache, when Alexia had known him. The rest of his face was in shadow, owing to the black fedora that sat atop his long, narrow head. He adjusted the brim of his hat, and Alexia could see his eyes, steel gray and piercing through the black.

"Hi, Lex," he said casually. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

Alexia nodded. She remembered most of the other kids in town had been scared of him, and she could understand why: her uncle was six feet, nine inches tall, with gangly arms and long, skeletal fingers. Scars snaked down the sallow grooves of his face, the product of his long captivity and torture in Vietnam. Coupled with his reputation as a criminal, people had always avoided him, and the other kids in town had often called him the boogeyman.

But as for Alexia, she'd never been scared of him. Her shoulders relaxed upon hearing his voice – it was a bit thinner and raspier than she remembered it being, but it was still unmistakably her uncle's. His voice was one of the few things that could instantly put her at peace. When he was around, she almost always felt safe.

Before she knew it, she was hugging him tight. She smelled the cigar smoke in his suit jacket, and a flood of memories came crashing down on her. It was only the knowledge that her uncle needed cheering up that prevented her from crying.

"You've gotten tall, Lex," he remarked. "I almost didn't recognize you."

Alexia belly-laughed at this. She was five-foot-three, still tiny compared to him. But somehow, she'd known he would say something like that.

"You should see Ryan and Anthony," she told him. "They're huge football players now, they tower over me."

"Do they?" Remus smiled. "Well, that's probably your doing. I'm sure you fed those boys well."

"I tried. It's not easy cooking for teenagers, but I did my best…" She sighed. "I'm really glad to see you, uncle."

"You too, Lex." Remus laid one of his huge hands on his niece's shoulder. "Have a seat. I wanted to talk with you for a minute, if that's alright."

"S-sure."

Alexia parted from her uncle and found her way to the seat next to Damien, who was nursing a lit cigar in his left hand. She knew this scent all too well from her childhood: these were Estancia cigars, her uncle's preferred brand.

There was a picture on Remus's desk she hadn't noticed at first. It was of herself, around seven or eight years old, holding up a .22 caliber hunting rifle. Little Alexia's hair was long and full of tangles, and she was wearing a cheap Goodwill jacket that was covered in fresh snow. She was smiling so wide that adult Alexia could see the gap where her two front teeth had fallen out. She remembered her uncle taking this picture: she'd just shot a prairie dog for the first time, and she remembered how happy she'd been, and how tight her uncle had hugged her afterward.

Alexia looked at Damien. He'd clearly seen where her eyes had tracked, and he nodded as if to say 'I told you so'. She smiled back at him, clutching her hands together in her lap.

"Uhm…I-I lost your AP Pistol in the fire. I'm really sorry. I can pay you back once I get some-"

"Don't worry about it." Damien waved his hand. "I've got plenty more guns back at my place. I won't miss that one too bad."

"Are you sure?"

Damien nodded. "You saved my ass back there. If it weren't for you, I would've been on that dance floor when all that shit kicked off. So…thanks, kid. I really appreciate it."

Alexia's eyes lowered. As embarrassing as it was, her stumbling and falling had gotten Damien's attention, just moments before the shooting had started. If she hadn't humiliated herself like that, Damien may very well have been another casualty.

Remus lumbered into his own black leather office chair, groaning as his joints flexed. As long as Alexia had known her uncle, he'd always had bad joints, another product of his torture by the Viet Cong.

The boss cleared his throat, scooting forward in his chair.

"So Lex, Damien was just telling me about the attack. He told me you sent quite a few of those Roses to Hell tonight, where they belong. Is that true?"

Alexia looked at her feet. She hadn't had time to process all the killing she'd done that day. It still felt unreal to her that she'd actually killed people, even if most of those kills had been in self-defense.

"I, um…I shot a couple of them, I think."

"It was more than a couple," Damien interjected. "I was keeping track, boss: she killed at least four of the bastards. They were clean shots, too."

"And that's on top of those Roses at the restaurant I heard about…"

"Yeah, Spider and his gang." Damien looked at Alexia. "With a little semi-auto handgun, no less."

At this, Remus was beaming. His old gray eyes shone with pride for his niece. "Lex, I…you've been a Skull for all of five minutes, and you've already killed seven Roses? I mean, that's…"

"It's unheard of," said Damien. "I don't think any other rookie has come close, not on their first day."

Alexia wiggled her feet as she thought of a response. Obviously, they were wanting her to take pride in killing people, but the way she saw it, killing wasn't something to take pride in. She would kill if she had to, but she couldn't make herself feel proud of it. And as bad as she was at lying, she knew that any attempt to fake such pride would be immediately noticed.

"I-I was just doing what was expected of me. Those guys wanted to take down the Skulls, so I took them down instead…" She shrugged. "That's about it."

"You can brag a little, Alexia. We won't care," said Damien. "Shit, most other rookies would be on cloud nine right now."

"My niece has always been humble," Remus said with a smile. "Even during our shooting lessons, she always celebrated her victories with grace. We could use more of that around here."

Alexia relaxed a bit. She wasn't a huge braggart, and she never had been. Even if that put her at odds with the average criminal, she felt comfort in knowing that her uncle would always understand and respect this about her.

Damien seemed to get the message, too: he looked down and scuffed his combat boots on the black wool carpet.

"So, Alexia, the Skulls' sniper squadron was at the party," Damien told her. "And we think most of those guys got killed tonight. So now, not only will we be going to war soon, but we've also gotta train a whole new team of snipers. Since you did so well tonight, we immediately thought of you."

"We have to go to war, Lex," Remus informed her. "If we don't respond with force, the other crews in this city will see it as weakness. Some of them may already be plotting schemes of their own. So considering that, I'd like you to begin sniper training next week."

Alexia gulped. Her hands began to tremble, thinking of the tough military-style training her uncle had described to her, and how scrawny and weak she was at that moment.

Remus seemed to pick up on her anxiety. He leaned over his desk.

"I know it's a big ask, especially for a rookie. But the Skulls could really use your abilities, Lex. Once you get past the physical stuff, I know you'll be an excellent sniper."

"I…I don't know, uncle," she admitted. "I mean, I'm just really out of shape right now."

"They can help you get in shape," said Remus. "Damien, you went through that training when you first joined. What can you tell her about it?"

Damien whistled. "I mean, it's tough –not just physically, but mentally. Sergeant Clay really puts his guys through the wringer, but…well, if you want something bad enough, you'll make it. You've just gotta find what it is that motivates you."

"What motivates most people is the money," Remus added. "Trust me, it's a lot more than what you'd make doing odd jobs around the city."

Alexia took a moment to think. She knew she needed money, and lots of it, if she wanted her brothers to be okay. However, she'd never been even remotely athletic or muscular. She didn't think motivation alone could get her through training in the Senora Desert, one of the hottest and driest places on Earth.

Remus seemed to recognize he was failing to convince her. As his eyes sank in defeat, a shot of guilt rang in Alexia's stomach. She was supposed to be making him feel better during this meeting, and instead she was making him feel worse.

She quickly spoke up again. "W-well…Jess told me she could help me build some muscle."

"Oh, Jess would be a great trainer," said Damien. "You seen that girl's abs? I mean, she is shredded, man. Toned six-pack, flat belly, sculpted V-line – I mean, you punch Jess in the stomach, you'd probably break your…"

Damien stopped when he noticed Alexia and Remus staring at him. His description of Jess's abs had been delivered with vigor, as well as several hand gestures.

He cleared his throat. "She's alright…And, uh, I have a couple of sniper rifles at my house. You could come over and practice on 'em one day, if you want."

Alexia smiled. She had experience with bolt-action rifles, including ones with scopes. She didn't think a sniper rifle would be much different, but the thought of firing guns with Damien was making her chest heat up. She clenched her hands together, shimmying a bit in her seat.

"Y-yeah, I'd like that a lot."

Damien retrieved his phone from his pocket. "You mind if we swap numbers? In case one of us has to cancel, or something."

Alexia looked down at the phone like it was a live explosive. Suddenly, she remembered what she'd meant to ask Damien back in the nightclub, the thing she'd been too drunk to remember after tripping and falling.

Her infatuation was replaced with a soul-crushing embarrassment, which she tried not to show as she swiped Damien's phone and typed in her number. This marked the first time in her life that she'd provided her number to a boy, but she was so disappointed with herself that she couldn't look at him as she gave the phone back.

"So, what do you say?" Remus asked her. "You've got two people now to help you prepare. I know they'll look after you."

Alexia swallowed, the red fading from her cheeks. "You really think I can do this, uncle?"

"Of course I do, Lex. And hey, I know this isn't ideal. If it were up to me, I'd let you gain more experience doing jobs first before you joined the snipers. But we have to deal with the Roses quickly, or they and their allies will deal with us first."

"I understand." Alexia nodded. "Whatever you guys need me to do, I'll do it."

Remus grinned. "That's my girl."

Alexia smiled back at her uncle, although she still harbored doubts. How was she going to get in shape in a week? And how would a Midwesterner like herself survive in the harsh desert of San Andreas?

She didn't know yet, but Alexia told herself she would try. If her uncle believed in her, then - like Damien had said - she couldn't get a better recommendation in this city.

Another series of knocks sounded at Remus's door.

"Come in," he said.

A man Alexia didn't recognize stumbled into the office. Despite the fact he was clad in combat gear and carrying an Assault Rifle, the man looked terrified. He was struggling to catch his breath, his face a ghastly shade of white.

"Boss, w-we found the security detail. In a dumpster off El Rancho…All dead."

"How many bodies?"

"Fourteen, boss."

Remus paused. "There are normally fifteen guys on security."

"We know. We're working to ID them now, but…but…"

"But what, Seth?"

The man, Seth, winced as he swallowed. "I…All of their heads were missing."

In an instant, all of the air was sucked out of the office. Remus shifted in his chair, looking like he was struggling to keep his composure.

"Alright…Damien, why don't you go with him?"

"You got it, boss."

Damien snuffed his cigar in an ashtray and rose from his chair. He clapped Seth on the shoulder as he led the way out of Remus's office. She could hear them out in the hallway, Seth sounding like he was breaking down in tears as he talked.

As she sat there, Alexia felt sick. She'd known the criminal underworld was a brutal and unforgiving place. However, there seemed something highly personal about cutting a person's head off, something that went beyond the required amount of cruelty in this business.

This had to be fueled by something other than money. Pure sadism, perhaps. Or maybe the Roses wanted to exact some kind of vengeance on the Skulls.

At that moment, Alexia's palms grew cold – an unsettling thought had taken hold of her. She looked up at her uncle, who appeared to be collecting himself as he lit another cigar.

"Uncle…What can you tell me about this 'Spider' guy? Was he important?"

Remus scowled as he exhaled the smoke in his lungs. "He was a nasty piece of work, Alexia. But yes, Spider was in charge of the Roses' human trafficking operations."

"Human trafficking?" Alexia's eyes widened. "The gangs around here do that?"

Remus nodded. "The Roses make a lot of their money kidnapping women and then selling them off as sex slaves. It's abhorrent work, and although it pays, I've kept the Skulls far away from that stuff. One thing you learn pretty fast in this business, Lex: everyone has their limit."

Alexia swallowed. "They…tried to take one of the waitresses at that restaurant. They started ripping her clothes off."

"I'm not surprised," Remus said, frowning. "That's how the Roses treat women, Alexia. Even the women in their own crew aren't safe. Alastor Mason, the Roses' boss…he expects all female crew members to be 'available' to him at all times. The man's got no respect, and I detest him for it."

Alexia slouched in her seat. She started to feel bad for thinking the Skulls were objectifying women at their street races, when in reality, the other crews were doing so much worse. Her uncle, at least, still had a little bit of a heart.

The cold feeling of dread was growing inescapable. The burning nightclub, the bodies with limbs missing, all that blood on the dance floor and on her skin, were freshly imprinted, seared into her brain like she'd been branded with them. She wondered what would drive people to perpetrate such cruelty when it clicked for her.

"It was a retaliation," she said out loud. Her breaths grew quicker. "I-it had to be right? Because I killed Spider, they wanted revenge on us! I…"

"Calm down, Lex," he said gently. "We don't know what they wanted yet. Just take a breath, okay?"

Alexia did as she was told. As air filled her chest, she remembered the panic attacks she used to have as a kid, and how her uncle had always helped her calm down. Sometimes he would take her out in his truck for ice cream or a soda, and sometimes he would just hug her tight, telling his niece that everything would be okay. This was in sharp contrast to her mother, who would yell at and hit Alexia if she showed any signs of distress.

The thought that she may have been indirectly responsible for the massacre was bringing back that all-too-familiar feeling, of feeling like an observer outside her body, of herself no longer feeling real. She kept breathing deep, counting to five, like she'd learned in countless anger management classes in juvie.

Remus reached across the table. It had been ten years, but Alexia still knew the drill. She took her uncle's hand, grasping it tight.

"It's not your fault, Lex. If anyone's to blame here, it's me. The fact that there were only fourteen bodies tells me there were gaps in our security, gaps that I should have addressed. You, on the other hand, were just surviving – you took those Roses out before they could take you out. That's all I can really expect of a rookie, and you executed flawlessly."

"Uncle, y…you couldn't have known they were gonna try something like that."

"Exactly. Maybe I should've known. Maybe if I'd been paying closer attention, all those people would still be alive. However, what's done is done. All we can do now is find whoever did this and make an example out of them. Show everyone in this city what it means to mess with the Skulls."

Alexia looked at her uncle across the desk. In stark contrast to herself, he didn't look at all emotional. But this, she thought, may have been a conditioned response. She knew her uncle had seen many people die, both as a hardened criminal and as a soldier in Vietnam. On some level, he'd probably had to detach himself, for the sake of his own sanity.

She started thinking about what she would do in his position – not that she could see herself leading a crew one day. As awkward as she was, she couldn't see anyone wanting to follow her into battle. But her uncle was different. His nerves never got in the way, like hers so often did, and this was one of the things she'd always admired about him.

They sat for a few moments without speaking. The feeling of her uncle's long, arachnoid fingers and leathered skin were a comfort for her, just as they had been when she was little.

"Y-you're right…Sorry, uncle. I know you've got a lot to worry about right now, and I probably shouldn't add to it."

"Don't apologize. I do have a lot going on, but you're still my niece. I can always, always make time for you."

Alexia smiled. Damn…Maybe I shouldn't have worried, she thought. I mean, he hasn't changed one bit, despite being…richer.

She began to feel more at ease. She straightened up in her chair and looked at her uncle, who met her eyes with the same non-judgement that had characterized her childhood with him.

"Uncle…Would it be okay if I wrote to my brothers? I know I should be lying low right now, but I just really miss them. And I know they're probably worrying about me."

"Sure thing, Lex. You can use my P.O. box if you need to send them anything, but be careful." He held a finger up. "No fingerprints and no DNA. The cops have those on file for you."

"Understood." Alexia nodded. "I could also do email, if that'd be easier."

"The Skulls have a VPN here at the compound, so use that when you send it, just to be safe." Remus smiled. "I know a little about computers, even if I'm old as dirt now."

"You're not old, uncle."

Alexia laughed, although her uncle was in his sixties. This probably made him older than the average criminal, but he wasn't quite a senior citizen yet.

Remus put his hands on his knees and huffed and puffed as he stood up, towering over Alexia. "If you had joints like mine, you'd think otherwise."

"I think after my training tomorrow, my joints are gonna be a lot like yours."

"You have no idea, youngster." Remus took his niece's hand as she stood from her chair. "I, um…I know it's pretty late, so you don't have to, but I wanted to show you around my living quarters. They're just across the hall there."

"Y-yeah, I'd love that."

Alexia said this without hesitation. She remembered seeing the compound while driving through Richman with Jess. From this sighting, she'd guessed that Remus's penthouse, high above the surrounding buildings, must have one hell of a view.

Besides, it'd be great to catch up with him, after all this time.

She remembered how they used to talk when she was a kid. Back then, her uncle was about the only person she could tell anything to.

Remus grinned and ruffled her hair. "C'mon then, you rascal. I like your haircut, by the way – it makes you look grown up."

"Thanks." Alexia blushed, brushing her hair back with her hand. "Jess was the one who paid for it."

"I know. I met with her also, before you came in." Remus opened the door out into the hallway. "She told me all about the adventures you two had today."

"Yeah, it's never boring with her around." Alexia laughed. "We…get along pretty well, too."

"That's good. I asked her to keep looking out for you for a bit, at least while you're new. Once you're more established here, I'll have you doing some jobs on your own. But…hey, I'm glad you're making some friends, Lex."

"Just following your advice." Alexia smiled and shrugged. "You told me I should start talking to people."

"That I did…"

Remus led the way out into the main hallway, which led down to the elevator. The bodyguard was still there, assault rifle in hand.

"You can head on down, Rodney," Remus said to him. "I'll see her out in a minute."

"Yes, sir." The bodyguard's shoulders relaxed. "So, you promoted this one already, or what?"

Remus shook his head. "She'll have to earn that, just like you and everyone else."

"Well, good luck to you," he said to Alexia. "If you meet any Roses, I just hope they've got worse aim than you."

Rodney reached out his hand, and Alexia shook it. Her fingers contracted and her bones ached in his vise-like grip, but like with Damien, she gritted her teeth and smiled, trying not to show any pain.

As soon as the man's back was turned, Alexia rubbed vigorously at her hand. Her uncle reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a white plastic card, which looked identical to the one Rodney had used to open the office corridor. This space they were entering now was directly opposite the office, on the left side coming out of the elevator.

The electronic access port beeped, allowing Remus to push the door open. Alexia entered right behind him, and the two descended a couple of steps into the penthouse's foyer, from which the entire space was visible.

Remus swept his hands. "Welcome to my humble abode, Lex."

"Holy crap…"

Alexia had to blink a few times to take it all in. The space was big, many times bigger than her own luxury apartment. To her right was a restaurant-sized bar that was fully stocked with high-end wine, bourbon and tequila. A column fireplace separated this dining area from an even more spacious living room, at the far end of which were a set of floor-to-ceiling windows. Like she'd guessed, her uncle had a panoramic view of virtually the entire city, spread out before him like a chessboard soaked in pounds of glitter.

She craned her head to look at the high tray ceilings, the polished granite of the floor, the indoor waterfall beneath a staircase that presumably led to a second floor. It occurred to her that what she was seeing was only half of her uncle's space.

And they say crime doesn't pay? Alexia squinted. Clearly it does, at least for my uncle.

"Make yourself at home, Lex," he said, strolling over to the bar. "How old are you now, anyway? Twenty-one?"

"I-I'm twenty," she admitted.

"Well, you're underage, but…ah, what the hell." He shrugged, pouring her a drink. "After what you did tonight, I think you deserve to celebrate."

Alexia took the shot glass her uncle offered her, along with some bottled water. Her nose crinkled at the pungent odor of the alcohol; without taking a sip, she could tell this was strong, much stronger than the cosmopolitan she'd drunk.

Remus poured himself a glass. "This is good stuff, Lex. Macbeth Whiskey. I had it imported from Scotland."

"Hmm." Alexia swirled her glass a bit. "I think I'll end up like Macbeth if I start chugging this stuff."

Remus chuckled. "It'll put hair on your chest for sure, but it's not bad. C'mon, we can drink it together."

Alexia smiled as she sat at the bar beside her uncle. "We've really graduated from root beer floats, huh?"

"Just a little." Remus held his glass out. "Cheers?"

"Cheers."

They clinked their shot glasses together. Alexia clenched her eyes shut and took a swig of whiskey, her very first shot.

Immediately, she felt like her throat had been set on fire. Her eyes popped open, and she gagged, lurching forward onto the bar.

"You alright, Lex?"

"Y-yeah, I…" Alexia wiped her mouth with her sleeve as she set her glass down, then downed several gulps of the water. Already, she could feel her vision swimming and her brain rocking back and forth, the now-familiar effect of alcohol on her frazzled nerves.

She feigned laughter as she looked up at her uncle. Sweat was very visibly dripping down her cheeks, which had turned bright pink.

"Sorry. I-I thought I could handle the whole shot."

"That's alright." Remus calmly poured himself another. "Jessamine was telling me you drank a bit at the nightclub?"

She nodded. "I had a cosmopolitan…well, a couple of 'em. Those tasted a lot better."

"It's those kinds of drinks you gotta be careful of, Lex." Remus downed a second shot of whiskey, then slammed his glass down. "Stick to the stuff that makes you hate yourself afterwards. It's safer that way."

"That makes sense…" She cleared her throat.

"How's your mom, by the way? Is she doing better?"

Alexia shook her head. "Not really."

"Still a hot mess?"

"That's putting it lightly." She sighed. "It's okay, though. She's never gonna change, and I've accepted that…What I'm worried about is my brothers. Now that I'm gone, mom's gonna need a new target."

Remus frowned. "I'm…sorry I couldn't have done more. Y'know, back when you were little. If I could've gotten you out of that house, I would have. A hundred times over."

Alexia nodded her understanding. Remus had known about the abuse for quite some time, ever since she'd shown him the belt marks all over her back and her legs. He'd tried calling child services, but they'd always done nothing. One time, he'd hired a couple of old bank robbing associates to go to her mom's workplace and threaten her into leaving Alexia alone. During the confrontation, Alexia's mom had fought back, and one of the thugs had broken her nose.

Her stomach ached at the memory. Seeing her mom injured hadn't made her feel better; instead, it had scared the shit out of her. She knew her mom could have been killed, and as much as Alexia disliked, even hated her sometimes, she didn't think that her mother deserved to die. She remembered going to her uncle afterwards with tears and snot running down her face, pleading with him to not do that again.

"I don't blame you, uncle," she said. "That's all in the past, anyway. But…if I can get my brothers out of there, that'd be a huge weight off my shoulders."

"How old are the boys now?"

"Almost eighteen." Alexia shook her head in disbelief. "Anthony's gotten letters from some colleges already. Hopefully, they can both get scholarships, and I can just give them some spending money every now and then."

"I think it's all gonna work out, Lex." Remus wrapped one of his long arms around his niece's shoulders, pulling her close. "You're one hell of a big sister. In fact, those boys are lucky to have you."

Alexia looked away, blushing as she smiled. "I'm…glad you think so, uncle."

"I know so. I've got faith in you, kiddo." Remus slid off his bar stool. "Come with me for a minute. I wanted to show you this awesome view I have."

Alexia followed her uncle over to the living area. As she stood up, she stumbled a bit. She felt like she'd just taken a ride on a spinning chair, but she managed to keep her balance. A black sectional couch dominated the space, encircling a gigantic flatscreen TV that was playing an old episode of Gordon Moorehead Rides Again. However, Alexia thought the TV a bit pointless when considering the rapturous view just outside her uncle's window.

In the distance, she could see her own apartment building with the four blue prongs at the top, a tiny speck among the other buildings in Los Santos' sprawling downtown. The penthouse was so high up that she could see beyond downtown, all the way to South Central. In the far distance was the Port of LS, one of the busiest seaports in the country, a collection of concrete islands jutting out into the Pacific.

Alexia's vision was blurry through the haze of Scottish whiskey, but she was still transfixed. In South Yankton, the landscape had been flat, featureless, dominated by the sky. Here though, the land was dominated by man. The orange hue of light pollution she'd seen on the plane was still there, bleeding color into the night. There were also a collection of flashing blue and red lights, near Vespucci Beach. Smoke was drifting up from this area, obscuring the buildings in its path.

Bahama Mamas, she realized. Looks like the whole building collapsed.

She thought about all the bodies inside, the gallons of blood and gore she and the bartender had slid around in as they'd made for the fire exit. She could smell the smoke, and – the blow to the head had knocked this loose – but she could remember the smell of burning hair and flesh, a smell which she'd choked on during the escape.

Her skin grew clammy. She looked up at her uncle, towering over her, his hawkish eyes peering in the direction of the fire. He looked pissed, and Alexia couldn't blame him.

"It's hard to believe anyone survived that…" He shook his head slowly. "Makes me sick to my stomach to see all those lives gone up in smoke. But I swear, those bastards are gonna pay for what they did. I'll make sure of that…"

Remus breathed out, his shoulders relaxing as he looked down at Alexia.

"I'm glad you weren't one of them, Lex. Not only because you're my niece, but because…well, I want to get your opinion on something. Something that's been on my mind for quite a while."

"What is it, uncle?"

Alexia didn't know why he'd need her opinion; after all, she was just a rookie. She figured he would just ask one of his lieutenants if he needed advice.

Even more confusing, her uncle looked nervous. He was rocking on his toes, his hands folded behind his back. He had trouble meeting his niece's eyes.

"I, um…Look, this isn't official Skull business, it's just something between us. So when I ask you this, make sure that the information I give you doesn't leave this room. Can you do that?"

Alexia nodded rapidly. By this point she was nervous, but also insatiably curious. For the first time since reuniting with him, her uncle's behavior perplexed her.

Remus took off his fedora and scratched his head, revealing a short, thinning head of black hair. Apart from the sideburns, which were graying, his hair was the same shade of black as his niece's.

"Alexia…You know you've always been like a daughter to me. You also know I've never married, and I've never had kids of my own. That time I spent with you growing up was really the first time I ever got to act like a dad. And I have to admit, it was pretty damn fun."

"Thanks, uncle." Alexia's shoulders relaxed. "You were a great father figure. I don't really remember what my dad was like, but…I hope he was a lot like you."

Remus paused. He looked genuinely touched by his niece's words. A smile, sad and mournful, crossed his thin lips.

"I…I really appreciate that, Lex." Remus discretely wiped one of his eyes. "Your dad - my little brother - he was a complicated man. The drink had a mean hold on him towards the end, but believe me when I say he loved you a lot, just as much as I do. So, considering that…" He waved an arm around the penthouse. "I'd like you to inherit this one day. All of it."

Alexia blinked. Her smile disappeared. "W…what?"

"That's right." Remus nodded. "When the time comes…I'd like you to take over the Skulls."