By Lee Homer
Disclaimer: Vice City and all Grand Theft Auto titles along with characters and vehicles are the property of Rockstar games. The story takes place after the recent events in the game. Please read and review and enjoy.
"B-boss we have a man down! We've lost control of the front entrance! They're everywhere!"
The mass Haitian families had encamped round the Vercetti Estate as waves of heavily armed gang members blasted their way in through windows and door ways. They had one target, to kill Tommy Vercetti. The attack began less than an hour ago when three Voodoo cars appeared in the grounds and attacked the patrolling gang group outside. Within seconds, a blood bath erupted.
"Tommy, we've got to get to the roof and fast!" shouted Ken Rosenberg who was repelling the attackers from across the hall. "I can hold them off long enough for you to get there. Phil's waiting for you!"
Tommy had been pinned behind his desk as he fired at the many Haitians that were rushing up the main stairwell towards him. He was running low on ammunition as his SMG cracked and howled wildly. He had lost a lot of his boys downstairs and he didn't want to risk losing the remaining men he had out on the balcony. He needed to get to Ken before he could continue firing as the man had spare ammunition on him.
"I'm out!" he yelled as he fired his last bullet. "I need cover so I can get to you!"
"You've got to be kidding me right!" Ken replied as he concentrated his fire on the enemy. "If I move, I'll stain the walls!"
"Just do it!" Tommy Growled as he prepared to move. "I'm coming now."
On the count to three, he barrelled towards the entrance and dived towards Ken, dodging the rapid gunfire. Slamming his back up against the wall, Tommy reached for the ammo and reloaded as quickly as he could.
"Ken." He said as he continued. "Don't argue with me again. Is that clear!"
Ken didn't reply as he crawled on towards the balcony with his M4 assault rifle. Tommy reached for the small crate behind him and pulled out some grenades which he then tossed to Ken and the men. Ken grabbed the grenades and waited for Tommy to explain about his next plan.
"Wait. Are we committing suicide here?" he asked as he handed the grenades to the men.
"We're going to blow the door numbnuts!" Tommy explained as he picked up another grenade and pulled the pin. "I'm going to blow up the fuckers! I suggest you do too!"
He pulled the pin and threw the grenade. It bounced down the stairwell and exploded upon impact, sending the relentless Haitians across the room like bowling pins. The impact had damaged the front entrance, but it needed more power to actually destroy it. Ken ripped out the pin with his teeth and lobbed his grenade downwards. The second explosion blew the door off its hinges along with apart of the ceiling structure, causing it to cave in. plaster, brick and metal filled up the entrance, trapping the remaining Haitians inside. Now the odds were even and the Vercetti boys opened fire. Within seconds, the gang slaughtered the enemy gang members and dust began to settle in the main hallway.
Tommy emerged from his cover place and surveyed the mess, along with the body count. A silence descended on the room as a chilling breeze seeped in through the cracks in the wall where the door once stood. The entire room was shrouded in blood, dirt and dust accompanied with the smell of sweat and bullet smoke. What once was a home to Tommy was now a graveyard.
"We better get moving." He said as he and Ken rushed back into the office to assess the situation outside. "This isn't over yet."
"What can we do now?" Ken asked as he began to panic. "We can't put up with another beating like that? It's crazy! I suggest we go to the roof, take the helicopter and fly the hell out of here!"
"And I suggest that you calm down and shut the hell up!" Tommy replied as his eyes fixed on the enemy outside. "We're not out of the woods yet. They've got boats out there and our boy's in the garden's are being slaughtered. Ken. I need you to go down to the weapons room and get the rocket launchers."
"But I can't hold a rocket launcher properly." Ken complained. "Never have done."
"Oh will you stop whinging like a girl!" Tommy snapped as he picked Ken up by his purple pastel blazer and dragged him out into the hallway. "I will show you how to use it, but first you're going to get the launchers and you're going to get them now! If you want your head blown off then it's fine by me, but I have an empire, a family to save!"
Ken didn't reply as he rushed down the side stairwell towards the weapons room. He immediately returned with two army issued, disposable rocket launchers. He threw one to Tommy and the two headed up towards the roof.
As they arrived, Tommy leaped up onto the roof times and positioned himself. He removed the safety cap and loaded a rocket. He had the boats in his small, rectangular view finder. His target was the centre boat which was being driven by one of the Haitian family members. He also knew that all the boats were close together so one shot would sink all of them.
"Rosenberg." He said as he squeezed the trigger. "Watch and learn."
He fired the rocket, sending it hurtling towards the boats. He hit his target dead on as the initial explosion started a chain reaction. The other boats exploded into pieces, sending their occupants over board and into the deep blue vice waters. He then waited for a couple of seconds as he wanted to make sure that there were no survivors amongst the floating wreckage. He was satisfied of his achievement as he could see no Haitian's through his scope.
He returned to the Helicopter pad and told Ken to climb in. Strapped in the pilot's seat, Phil Cassidy fired up the controls and the chopper's rotor blades stirred up the air around them. Tommy piled in and shit the door behind him just as the chopper lifted into the air. Within seconds, they were flying away from the mess that they had left behind. Tommy mopped the sweat off of his forehead and sighed with relief as he relaxed his body in the passenger seat. Ken was still tensed with the adrenaline that was coursing through his veins. He was generally excited as to what the millionaire criminal was going to do next.
"Wow. That was amazing!" he said as he clapped his hands like a child. "Did you see me? Did you see what I did back there? I was awesome! What are we going to do now though, Tommy? Err Tommy?"
"Please, will you calm down and shut the hell up for five fucking minutes?" Tommy murmured as he closed his eyes and tried to de-stress. "We need to relocate. We can't go back to the estate."
"What do you boys think happened back there?" Phil asked as he flew the chopper into the vicinity of Vice Beach. "We have never been attacked like that before? What did we do, smoke their weed?"
"Someone tipped them off." Tommy replied. "We've never had that much of a problem with the Haitian's before. Obviously someone decided to tell them that we were fucking with them, enough for them to start blowing our boys into Swiss cheese. Thing is we know that's not true."
"So the Haitian's are being lied to." Ken said. "That's a no brainer right there. Now we got to figure out who started this mess in the first place."
"You mean you will." Tommy added as he looked at his mental associate. "I'm going to be busy in re-locating our boys to a safe place and I know just where to go."
"Then where are we flying too?" Phil asked. "We don't have a lot of fuel to go joy-flying."
"Fly us to Washington Beach." Tommy replied as Phil banked the chopper to the right. "I have a huge Yacht moored out at the marina. We can relocate and plan our operations there."
"Ah sweet. Is that the one that Cortez sent you for your birthday last year?" Ken asked as his face lit up. "That is a frickin' kick ass boat right there."
"Yeah we're going there." Tommy sighed as he rolled his eyes up at the roof. "And once we arrive, you my friend are going on the oxygen pumps. I don't want to hear anything else from you."
After a thirty minute ride, the helicopter finally touched down at the huge Yacht which sat at the end of the Marina. The atmosphere there was totally different. It was quiet, warm and friendly. Tommy knew that he had to use his present from Cortez sometime as he left the chopper and headed down the shiny, clean promenade deck. He loved the Yacht and he knew that it was more heavily guarded than the estate. The Haitian's would never find him there. He entered his cabin and went straight for alcohol cabinet where he poured himself a glass of whiskey. As he sat there on the couch, he tried to make sense of what had happened, but he couldn't get over the fact that he had lost the heart of his organisation. More to the point, he has lost his home.
He sat there and sipped away at his drink as he tried to find out where the rest of his men where. He dialled the numbers of his lieutenants and made a few calls. To his relief, his men had scattered out throughout both Washington and Ocean Beaches. He then remembered that just before the attack, he had sent a group of his boys to Prawn Island who was dealing with the finances at the film studio. He decided to call them in before deciding to hit the shower.
The evening arrived, attracting the Vice City nightlife. The colourful building lit up the skyline, providing a beautiful glow to the tourists that visited. Tommy would usually hit the strip club or the Malibu for a couple of drinks with Kent Paul, but this time, he was going to call it an early night. He lay there in his bed, struggling to sleep. He was so pent up with anger that he just had the urge to get in a car and destroy Little Haiti, but before he could even think about doing it, He began to drift off into a deep, stress less sleep.
Meanwhile, masked by the shadows of the rooftops, a lone figure watched onwards as he trained his sights on the Yacht. Peering though his night vision binoculars, he made note of the yacht and its crew.
"I've found him guys." He said into his radio. "Tell your boss that he's here. He's going to die real soon."