Little Haiti had been home to both the Haitian and Cholo families for many months. When the Cholo's returned to Vice City, they found out that their territory was now under the jurisdiction VCPD when Alex Shrub signed a document allowing the police force to crack down on gang territories. To make their mark in the city, The Cholo's had made a deal with the Haitians to help produce and dispatch their drugs in return for sharing the territory with them. The Haitians agreed and since then, the two gangs had become the most powerful organisation in the whole of Vice City.
The Cholo's had built another drugs factory on top of the charred remains of the original which was destroyed by the Cubans. It took four months to build under the cover of darkness as the materials used to build the factory were stolen from all different states. Once it was up and running, the two gangs began to produce a strong drug which they called "Devil's Dust." The Haitians then began running the drugs to wealthy families and corrupt politicians all over Vice City. After three successful months, both gangs had become extremely wealthy and powerful. The police couldn't touch them.
It was four o'clock in the morning when the bikers arrived at the drug lab. They were armed as they didn't expect a friendly welcome. Gary looked at his boys before dismounting his bike. He slowly walked up towards the main gate and called out to the Haitian guards that were staring down at them from above.
"Hey brother! Hey! Down here!"
"What the fuck do you greasers want!" replied one of the Guards.
"I want to talk with your boss?" Gary explained. "We have a little proposition for him and the Cholo's? If you let us in, we'll be quick and we'll get out of your way."
"We don't trust bikers." The guard sneered. "Especially bikers who know nothing about us. I suggest you beat it before we put bullets in your sorry arses."
"And I suggest that you open the gates and let us in before I tear you a new arsehole." Gary smirked. "You'll then regret the day you mouthed off The Flame Retchers."
Just then, the guard disappeared and Jamaican language could be heard from the other side of the gate. The gates then began to open, revealing the complex inside along with a group of heavily armed Haitians. Gary smiled as he lit himself a cigarette. A Jamaican man emerged from the compound and walked over towards the bikers. He had long black dreadlocks and wore a log, purple pimp jacket with a matching shirt, white trousers and shoes. His thick black trooper shades obscured his eyes, making his apparel more menacing than the rest of the gang. He was the Haitian drug lord and his dead pan expression, un-nerved the rest of the bikers. With his face level with Gary's, the Jamaican began to speak.
"Who the fuck are you?"
"Take it easy friend." Gary chuckled. "We're going to be your new business associates. You see. We're The Flame Retchers."
"I know who you guys are?" the leader replied. "Your that new small biker outfit that stole half a shipment of guns from the Vercetti's."
"And how do know that?" Gary continued. "That was only three hours ago."
"Word gets about fast in this town." The leader replied. "I hope you ain't planning on stealing my merchandise as well?"
"Far from it brother." Gary said as he put out his cigarette. "No infact we've come to hopefully make a new proposition and hopefully a mutual friendship with you guys. You see friend, We've respected you and your little empire since the day we arrived in Vice City and we want to be on your side too."
"Piss off." The leader replied as he sneered. "I don't care why you're here, we don't deal with scum."
"Well I know that we both have a common enemy and lust for power in this town." Gary chuckled as the leader looked back at him. "Tommy Vercetti. That's right. I said it. Now you and I both have problems with that stuck up arse hole. He burnt down my club house the same way he destroyed your drug lab with the Cubans. Now for revenge, I took half his guns. What are you going to do?"
"What do you want?" the leader asked as he tuned in to what Gary was telling him.
"A business partnership." Gary replied simply. "With me right now are the stolen half of Military weapons. Now we can't store them at our clubhouse as the cops will be snooping around for them, but we can hide them here where they cant touch them, plus it will make you very wealthy and help you expand your empire."
"And what do I get in return if I am to agree to this?" asked the leader, seeming interested.
"You get fifty percent of all the profits we make from our weapon smuggling plus we'll organise escorted drug runs for your organisation. I'm going to be completely fair with you on this. What do you say?"
The leader stared the bikers for a few seconds before fixing his eyes on the crate of weapons. He then trained his eyes back on Gary and replied with a brief nod.
"Come inside." he said. "Lets take a look at these weapons."
With that, the bikers made their way into the compound and the gates closed behind them. inside the compound, the area seemed completely different. Guards roamed the walls and the main delivery bay. Cholo's roamed to and from the two major drug labs. Smoke and powder dust vented from the windows and doors. Gary signalled Herman to follow him as the Haitian leader led them up into his office where the Cholo leader was waiting for them.
Inside, the office was small and only big enough to house up to five people. It was dimly lit up with only two small light bulbs which ran on a small electric generator, drug bags lay scattered across the small couch and tables and the wall themselves were dirty. As the bikers entered the room, they were met with the strong odour of Marijuana smoke.
"I take it you guys had yourselves a little party?" Gary joked as he waved the smoke out of his face.
"Who the fuck is this?" the Cholo leader snarled as he reached for his gun.
"There are new business friends, Greco." The Haitian leader replied. "Put down the gun, man and chill out."
"I thought this was meant to be a private business for us only?" the Cholo leader responded as he the his gun down on the floor. "Now your letting in every other punk!"
"Hey we punks are going to make the three of us rich, friend." Gary interrupted. "So sit down, shut up and let us get on with this."
The Cholo leader narrowed his eyes as her re took his seat. The Haitian leader offered the bikers to take a seat as he cleared the drug bags off of the couch. Pulling out a spliff from is jacket, he lit it and inhaled a deep puff of smoke. He was relaxed enough to hear any proposition.
"Show us the guns?" he said, as his speech became slurred.
Herman lifted the crate of gun and slammed them down upon the table. He then lifted the crate lid off to reveal the shiny, metallic hardware which attracted the Haitian leaders attention.
"Wow." He gasped as he picked up a cobra pistol. "I think we must fully introduce ourselves to you before we can do business. I am Delroy and this Greco of the Cholo families."
"I'm Gary, president of The Flame Retchers MC and this is Herman, my Vice President. Now that we're fully acquainted I suggest we get on with this before the Vercetti boys make their move on us."
"Fair enough." Delroy replied as he placed the pistol back in the crate. "We will hide your guns for you, but first we need you to do a favour for us, friend."
"Of course." Gary smiled. "What do you need us to do?"
"We have a buyer flying in to Vice City in three days time." Delroy explained. "He's a good friend of ours and regular. He's interested in buying our dugs for a good price but he's under police surveillance so he's had to send his brother to go out and collect it. We need you to make the delivery to him at the docks?"
"Why can't the Haitian's show?" Herman asked.
"Because we can't afford to leave the factory as the other gangs are descending on us. The Cholo's are keeping a low profile until they can find a territory of their own. If we leave the factory, we'll be wiped out."
"Leave it with us?" Gary assured the leader as he lit up a cigar. "We'll make delivery in three days time, providing you make sure that there isn't any heat on our arses?"
"We'll take care of that?" Greco added. "The cops won't even know that your going there."
"Good. It's a deal, friends." Herman smiled as he showed the door to Gary. "Come on pres, we've got to put the guns in the ware house and get out of here before The Vercetti boys realise that we're missing. We can't leave the club house un defended."
Gary nodded in agreement and left the office building. Herman shook the two leaders by the hand and followed Gary down to his bike.
The next morning showed a small heat wave that devoured Vice City. The sun was bright and signing, the beaches were packed full of tourists and babes and traffic jams were at an all time high. Tommy had arrived at Escobar International Airport where he planned to meet Jacob in the Terminal building. As he waited by the security terminal he looked onwards as he saw his friend head towards him.
Jacob was the same build as Tommy only he was three months younger. He wore a bold dark blue Hawaii t-shirt with an orange pattern on it along with white, pastel pants, and black shoes. He was carrying a small, black sports bag which meant that he had travelled light for the occasion. Tommy smiled at this guy. He hadn't changed at all.
"Well, well, well." He said as he hugged his friend. Jacob, you smooth son of a bitch. Glad you could make it."
"Thanks Tommy." Jacob replied with a smile. "I'm loving this place already. I've only been here five minutes and I've already had the air hostess eye me up."
"Yeah they'll do that, my friend." Tommy laughed. "Lets go. I'll explain everything to you on the way and hopefully we'll have ourselves a little catch up."
A few minutes later, Tommy's silver infernus pulled out of the parking lot and headed down the small congested road towards Starfish Island. As Jacob gazed out the window to admire the view, Tommy knew that he had to state his reasons for calling him out to the city. Clearing his throat, he began to attract Jacobs attention.
"Look. I hope you know why I've called you here don't you? you remember right?"
"Yeah." Jacob replied. "It's my turn to do you a favour. Now you said something about some deep shit that coming down on your little criminal empire?"
"That's right. We've had half of our weapons shipment stolen by a group of pathetic bikers." Tommy went on. "Now they have the power to wipe every business that keeps this city going. My colleague couldn't even manage a simple operation with out it being crashed. I need help badly."
"So why did you call me?" Jacob asked. "What can I do to help?"
"My empire's going to hell, Jacob." Tommy continued. "Ever since these bikers have arrived along with the return of the Cholo's, my business has become under threat. My alliance with the Cuban families are on the edge of a god damn knife because the Haitians have been stirring shit between us. These are all very dangerous gangs of Vice City. It's a huge competition out there and the prize is the complete power over the city. I have no one who can defend my empire. No gun man, no muscle, no nothing. That's why I called you, Jacob. I need your help man. You have the skills of all of those things."
"Do I?" Jacob shrugged with out a clue.
"Of course you do." Tommy replied. "Do you remember back when you took on that biker gang in Liberty City? What were they called? Well names don't matter but the point is that your just the bad ass man I need to help me save my empire."
"Well since you put it like that, then ok. I'll help you." Jacob said as he rubbed his chin. "As long as I get to become apart of your business."
"What do you mean?" Tommy asked as he pulled over to the curb. "You're willing to join me gang?"
"Well. Yeah." Jacob replied. "I have no life back home. My wife left me after she had a miscarriage with our child. I'm in debt, no job and currently in hiding from the feds for fraud. I would rather hide out here for good than return there."
"Well I can sort that out, Jacob." Tommy said as he put his foot on the accelerator. "I'll even pay you to keep you here."
"Thanks, Tommy. You're a true friend." Jacob sighed with relief.
The two men eventually arrived at the Vercetti estate. Jacob was mesmerised at the place. he couldn't believe that his friend had achieved so much to earn it, but he time to ask him questions about his wealth later on. As he entered the front entrance, Tommy led him into the lounge for a drink where Ken and a few boys were waiting for them. this was to be Jacob's home until he could afford to get an apartment of his own.
Tommy himself was still pissed with Ken as he glared at him fiercely. Putting his anger aside, Tommy introduced the two men to each other while pouring himself a glass of whiskey. He wanted to get straight down to business before the socialising could begin.
"Ken, leave us." He said. "Just get out of my sight and we'll start fresh tomorrow."
Ken grunted and barged past Jacob out into the hall way. Jacob couldn't help but feel a bit awkward as he wasn't aware of what happened the other night. Tommy remained silent for a few minutes as he knocked back his drink. He then returned to the bar and poured another one for Jacob.
"Are you ok man?" Jacob asked as he stared down at his drink.
"Yeah I'm fine." Tommy muttered as he slouched down on the couch. "I just hate to think what those biker's are doing with my guns right about now. That's all."
Across the street from the mansion sat an unmarked red banshee sports car. The occupant inside had been spying on the mansion for three hours straight. His identity was kept hidden under a black sports cap, black leather clothes and black trooper shades. As he set aside his binoculars, he pulled out a cigarette and began to light it. as he took big puffs, he pulled out his mobile block cell phone and called an encrypted known number. This guy appeared to be an agent or a spy on behalf of a rival gang. The voice on the other end of the phone crackled wildly.
"What do you have to report?" the deep voice asked. "Has Tommy Vercetti retaliated yet to the stolen guns?"
"No boss." The man replied. But he seems to have hired a new recruit. Probably hired muscle or something."
"He's up to something." the voice muttered once more. "Keep me updated every two hours of his movements. When he strikes, we'll nail him."
"Yes sir." the man replied. "I'm going to head back to the station for now though. My shift is over."
"Right. Start fresh tomorrow morning."
The voice disappeared as the man placed the phone down. Switching on the engine, the man pulled back onto the road and headed off towards Vice Beach. What ever was going on, Tommy's problems were far from over.
To Be Continued