[Mokrie Dela]

QUOTE (Kifflom112 @ Thursday, Aug 16 2012, 02:24)

This stuff is awesome!

Thanks man, always good to have a new reader. I hope you enjoy this, and my other story too

As a thank you i was going to put up two chapters, but i'm yet to run the second through the final edit mill so just the one for now

Incidently, this chapter will be my 96,221st word of the story uploaded, and i'm only 2/3 done!

Interestingly, City of Lies came in at approx 57,743 words (30 chapters).

Chapter Sixteen - And The Winner Is...

Politics. Niko grew tired of it. His line of work was the combat side of things, or the operational side of things – yes, that was more accurate. He did feel a sense of pride though, knowing his work had paid off. He stared at Liberty City’s new mayor, voted in by the sheer lack of confidence in the previous one.
“So this is it?” Roman said, watching the screen too, a beer in hand. “They’ll open the gun shops, legalize guns and profit from it all…” Suddenly Niko had doubts. This new mayor didn’t seem like he was likely to lift the firearm ban. “Oh well, I suppose it doesn’t matter. People get guns one way or the other. Maybe this is a good thing. All I know is I’ll take Kate to school myself from now on.”
Niko didn’t bother mentioning that the town that Roman lived in had zero reported gun crime.
“Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to move, cousin.”
“Come on Roman. You’ll move from here to Los Santos, to avoid gun crime? You’re safer here than there.”
“And you’d know?”
“Yes. I was there recently…”
“’Working’…?”
Niko hesitated before sighing. “Yes, but that proves my point.”
“I actually feel sorry for the mayor. He’d done a good job up until the last month or so.”
It wasn’t his fault, Niko couldn’t say. On some level he was relieved. It was over. Wasn’t it?

Karen was looking at the information on the airport. “I don’t get it. Not all of this makes sense.”
“Are you a security expert?” Luis said wearily. “I mean; how would you know?”
“Well it says that the security are not permitted to carry firearms – yet on another page…” She searched for a second. “it says they’d shoot to kill… Also the… oh sh*t.”
“What?!” Johnny had just turned up to catch the last two words. Karen was looking at the TV.
“The reason this doesn’t make sense is because it doesn’t make sense.”
“What the f*ck you talking about?” Luis stood.
“Disinformation.”
“This information what?”
“No, Luis, Disinformation. I overheard a conversation about a mole in the company. That mole was me and….”
“The meeting was staged.” Johnny said, connecting the dots with speed that surprised Karen. In truth it wasn’t his cleverness, but pessimism. “We were set up.”
“So that means…?” Luis turned to Karen.
“I'm blown!”
“What?” With eerie symmetry with his brother, Michael walked into the room, having had a brief conversation with one of the bikers.
“Karen thinks that our last thing was a set up. She seems sure she’s blown.”
“What does that mean?” Michaels face quickly became pale.
“It means her boss knows about – ”
“No, Johnny, I mean what are the implications? Do they know where we are? Do they know what our plan is?”
“What plan?” Luis chipped in. “We’re running around thinking we’re Judd Parker, when really we know about as much as Cloe Parker.”
“So what the hell are we going to do about it?!” Michael said, close to panic.
“I… I don’t know. We need to find out what his next step is.”
“Isn’t his man in office now?” Johnny said.
Karen held her hands out in a futile gesture. “Is there anything else you know Michael? Anything…”
“I… I don’t know. I’ve told you about the intelligence guy…”
“Our friend.”
“Yeah. Him, the botched mission and the ambush – the guns – there was the prisoners, and I dunno, the only other thing was Ramirez not liking – ”
“Wait a minute, prisoners?”
“I.. Yeah…”
“What about them?”
“Not much. We’d captured some prisoners… come to think of it, that intelligence guy was interested in them.”
Karen blinked. “Did you not think of mentioning this before?”
“Well no – I never thought it was related… We had several prisoners during my tour.”
“So there was nothing different about the prisoners?”
“They were Middle Eastern insurgents, or a terrorist force – we never found that out.”
“What do you mean?” Johnny chipped in. “Didn’t you interrogate them?”
“Someone of seniority does that – usually we get a negotiator in or something. That’s why the intelligence guy – our friend – was interested in them.” Michael shrugged. “Maybe they knew where the bad guys were, or maybe they had a killer stir-fry recipe, I don’t know.”
“But if he was interested in them, they could be connected to this stuff.”
Michael frowned. “Sorry Johnny but I can’t see how. He might be interested in urinating in public, but that doesn’t mean Lazlow’s the bad guy. What connection do prisoners have to the mayor?”
“Michael, what happened with the prisoners? Did they have information? Were they connected to the guns or that ambush?”
“Don’t think so. Like I said, they were whisked out of there so fast no one got a chance to speak to them.”
“I think I'm with Johnny, Michael, this sounds fishy.” Karen took a moment to think. “I think there’s more.”
“Like what?” Michael asked with a frown.
“I don’t know. Let’s look at what we’ve got so far. The attempt to kill my boss, the attempt to kill you, Michael, we think they’ve targeted the gangs in this city, they eliminated our mercenary support… Now the mayor’s in office, you’d think that’d be it.”
“Don’t forget that warehouse of guns.” Johnny said.
“Maybe they’re cleaning up.” Luis offered. “Loose ends?”
Karen shrugged. “I dunno – with the warehouse that Johnny mentioned…”
“There was a lot of guns there.” Johnny said.
“Good guys and bad guys need guns.” Michael tried to be objective.
“What about the explosives?” Luis said. “There was a sh*tload there.”
“There is more isn’t there?”
“Yeah.” Karen nodded. “But what?”

Marcus D’Amico sat in the darkened room that would soon have guests staying in it. They hadn’t been too hard to offer their obedience. The voice in which money speaks is a loud one, but nothing is as boisterous as the promise of guns, at least to people like that. His role was simple, though he had to be careful. On the internet existed a small cluster of websites, distributing many things, most of them illegal and all of them immoral. It was a useful website actually, with assorted recopies for homemade weapons. Just connecting to and browsing the website was of little risk, though the IP addresses were most likely logged by the FIB. But posting on there was one way to get yourself noticed, and sooner or later investigations would pry into your life with scrawny but relentless fingers. All D’Amico had to do was to place the breadcrumbs. This was a task kept hidden from Lyle. Despite being good friends, albeit often at odds, Lyle wasn’t the smartest or coolest customer. In this task, he’d be nothing but a hindrance, so he was left to his own devices. He was probably watching CNT, getting drunk, laid, or a mixture of all three.
The trick to this task, he told himself, was not in laying the breadcrumbs, but in placing a nice cookie at one end – big enough to tickle the appetites of the hunters, but not too big as to cause a frenzy. He’d been doing work like this for months. The opposite of investigations; he liked that.

Rami, however, knew only of the elections over the radio that just so happened to be playing in the car.
“Hmph.” His reaction would have been more concerned had someone told him it was going to rain. Right now he had other things to do. He headed to a simple meeting, with someone he sincerely hoped no one found out about. He resisted employing every tactic he knew to move invisibly. One can try too hard to hide, and that would only result in detection, and that was something Rami could not afford. He was playing high stakes – the highest – and could ill afford any kind of risk.

“Yalon.” The man said. There were armed men present, of course. No way would this man risk a meeting like this on his own – especially now.
There was no need to say his name, but the nostalgia was not lost on the Israeli, nor was it lost on the other man. He too was playing at the big tables, and that necessitated this alliance. Rami was no fool, and always had some card up his sleeve. It was the way he was trained, and what his life had demanded of him since.
This was going to be a long day.

Click Here to read the next chapter - Whack-A-Mole

This post has been edited by Mokrie Dela on Wednesday, Aug 22 2012, 10:09

[billy james]

I love reading this man, this is amazing

I like how Karen is all paranoid now that Niko and Rami know that she's the mole, stuff like that just makes me want to read more

[Mokrie Dela]

QUOTE (billy james @ Saturday, Aug 18 2012, 05:48)

I love reading this man, this is amazing I like how Karen is all paranoid now that Niko and Rami know that she's the mole, stuff like that just makes me want to read more

Thanks man. I've tried to capture the characters. Way I look at it Karen's doing this because she feels she has to, but she's out of her depth. Reluctant hero. Plus she knows what niko's capable of, and that worries her but mostly it's her relationship with niko - she betrayed him and now she's actually scared of him

New chapter soon

[AndyGanteks]

Gj Mokrie. Been a while since i gave em a read, did it today during MM editing, keep up the nice work!

[Mokrie Dela]

How about a new chapter. As coincidences go, with the V screenshots, this seems fitting.

Chapter Seventeen - Whack-A-Mole

“So how do you feel, Niko?” Rami asked from the passenger seat.
Niko, from behind the wheel, shot a quick glance to his partner. “Fine, why?”
“About this target.”
“Ah. I don’t really feel anything. I’ve killed before.”
“But someone close to you?”
“I’ve killed people close to me before too.”
“You know you’re a lot more cold-blooded than you like to make out, Niko.” Rami smiled as he said it. He wasn’t all business.
“I have no feelings toward her.” The Serbian shook his head. “You know what happened.”
“Yeah. Once you’d tracked the mole down, I felt it necessary to do some research. Surprised she worked here for so long but didn’t interact with us.” Niko had done something similar when he’d begun to work with Rami. He found that there was very little information available.
“Well he was smart wasn’t he? He hired us artfully anyway. Makes sense to keep us separate.” Niko shook his head. “I would probably have shot her.”
“Ever shoot a woman Niko?” Rami said mockingly.

“How secure are we?” Michael asked. Karen was packing some papers into a duffel bag.
“Well I don’t think they know where we’re hiding. They would have killed us by now if that was the case.”
“But if they’re on to us it’s going to make operating here difficult.”
“For me at least. The strange thing is that while they know me, and you, and even Johnny – ”
“Well he’s not hard to miss is he? If he didn’t have the tattoos he could grow his hair and look different…”
Karen ignored the comment. “While they know us, for some reason they never figured out who Luis is. They just assumed that he was a hoodlum… That’s quite a big oversight really, one I'm amazed about.”
“Yeah. If this was a film, you’d be asking questions of the writers.”
“This isn’t a film, Michael.”
“Alright. If we’re safe here, why are we moving out?”
“Sooner or later they will find us. I need to figure out what his next step is. There’s something else – you don’t store that amount of weapons and bring an arms dealer onboard if you’re not planning something big.”
“Don’t forget the prisoners.”
“Yeah. I can’t for the life of me work out how they’re involved.”
“Well you know my thoughts on that.”
“Yeah, but think about it – it’s the same guy. It’s all got to be connected.”
“So you’re putting all of this together in case you’ve got to run?”
Karen sighed then sat on a chair. “I'm scared, Michael. You don’t know these guys, but one of them knows me. We… dated. Only it was my job to keep an eye on him. Things didn’t go right. I genuinely cared for him, and I think he liked me. I swear if he wasn’t as smart as he is, he would have shot me then and there.”
“Which one are we talking about?”
“The Serbian guy. It’s how he was employed by my old boss.”
“Why didn’t you both leave?”
“We couldn’t. Our boss kind of blackmailed us to work for him, but he did let us go in the end.”
“Again, why stay?”
“Why not? I didn’t have anything else. No chance he’d talk to me – we saw each other a few times since but neither were pleasant. Our boss wisely decided to keep us separated. My friend – as young as the friendship was – was engaged to his cousin - they’re married now – so no chance I had in seeing her again. She never returned my calls. I was alone in this city, what else could I do?”
“Go home?”
Karen stood, one of her hands coming to her brow. “Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen. I'm not a bad person, Michael, I didn’t sign up to betray people.”
“I get that – he gave you no choice.”
“Yeah but once I was let go, I realized that it was just the way it had to be. I voluntarily returned and after that it was more respectful. We always recruited people like him – criminals that we could control like that.”
“I'm starting to see a pattern with your agency.”
“Yeah, we’re not noble, but we do an important job. After a while the criminals tend to wise up to it, and we can’t control them as easily. That’s when we release them.”
“And entrap someone else.”
“Basically, yeah. All of the people after us are those that came back. Especially Niko and Rami, they’re very, very dangerous. They can do almost any job silently. If we wanted to we could have sent those two to eliminate half of the city and no one would know until it was done. But when things go to hell, they’re just as dangerous. They are very, very good shots.”
“But they’re not bad men?”
“They’re no heroes, Michael. None of us are. This city doesn’t have any heroes. But they are bad men. Perhaps good deep down, but they’re… you mentioned films – they’re the antihero.”
“So you think because you have history with one of them…”
“I don’t think he will hesitate.” Karen waved the papers as she put them in the bag. “Somewhere we have something that can turn the tides. Something to do with you – he wants you dead because you’re a threat to him. At least that’s what I think.”
“But apart from what I said….”
“I think that’s enough. If this went to trial, he wouldn’t have a hope in hell…”


“There it is.” Rami said from behind the wheel. “Last time, Niko. You sure you’re down with this.”
Niko, holding his Desert Eagle, moved the slide forward. Rami noted the futile gesture but didn’t follow it up. Niko was nervous. Perhaps, Rami told himself, mindful of Niko’s past, he was entertaining the notion of revenge. After all, it was revenge that ultimately led their employer to the Serbian, wasn’t it?
“Let’s do this.” Niko said, needlessly.
Rami nodded and reached for the door handle. Niko was out first, stepping onto the sidewalk. He wore a black zip-up turtleneck pullover, not fully zipped up. He wore grey cargo pants, the pockets of which held a few extra magazines of ammo.
“I think we should split.” Niko said. “One of us takes the back, the other the front.”
“What floor are they on?”
“Second.”
“So there’s two points of entry. One’s the front door, the other’s the fire escape. You take the front and I the back, we’ll both meet in the stairwell.”
“Alright, One of us takes the fire escape, the other the door then.”
“Fair enough. Which one do you want?”
“I’ll take the door.”

“We might have a little problem.” Michael said, looking out of the window. Below he could see Niko and Rami walking toward the building. Karen managed to get nothing more than a glance. She acted immediately, following a plan she’d thought up weeks ago. She grabbed the bag, stuffing the remaining few papers into it. Too late for the other stuff but it was all useless. She slapped Michael on the back. “Follow me.”
Michael followed as she headed out of the apartment. She closed the door behind them, resisting the urge to slam it, forcing herself to calm down. They darted across the hall where she used a key to open the door. Michael ducked in and she closed it with a sigh. Michael realized she had a gun in hand, and it looked hugely out of place there.
“You actually know what to do with that?” He asked.
“Shh!” She turned to watch through the peephole, her voice becoming a whisper. “Keep quiet and do exactly what I say.” She reached for her phone.
Niko reached the top of the steps and turned, seeing the door ahead of him. So many times had he done this, but today was different. Today was not a terror target. Today the target was a traitor, or so he was told. Revenge did come in to his mind, but it was a notion that he’d abandoned years ago. He harbored no ill feelings toward her now, at least that’s what he told himself.
The door beckoned and, for a moment, Niko had doubts.

Karen’s heart skipped a beat as the man filled her vision. She saw his profile for a moment before he turned to the door.
“Niko…” She whispered, almost breathlessly.

Niko took a deep breath before kicking the door open. He moved in, his gun up. Almost instantly Rami crashed through the window from the fire escape. Both men shared a look. Niko, having established the lead, pointed Rami to the room closest to the window, while he headed to his immediate left and into what turned out to be a bedroom.

Karen watched as Niko moved into the apartment. The second Niko disappeared into the apartment she opened the door and ushered Michael out. They rushed down the stairs.

Niko returned to the main apartment two seconds before Rami.
“They’re not here.” Rami said. Niko swore. “Don’t sweat it, Niko, we’ll find her.”
“Think it’s worth trying her old apartment?”
“Not really. We’ll check it out but she would have probably moved.”
Niko holstered his weapon and moved to the window. He looked out, muttering another Serbian profanity. Rami was already searching for ‘clues’.
Suddenly Niko swore again.
“Alright Niko, I get it, you’re frustrated.”
“No,” Niko said. “They’re outside.”
Rami stood and moved to the window. “sh*t, that’s them.”
Niko turned and ran out of the apartment. Rami climbed out of the window and took a position on the balcony. With considerably more composure than his Balkan partner, he drew his gun and took aim.

Niko reached the street and saw the two get into a waiting car. He couldn’t see the driver. Rami had his gun out but a gun was fired, causing Rami to take cover. Niko took cover also. The gunfire was coming from the front passenger seat of the car. Neither Rami nor Niko saw who was firing. The car screeched off, and Niko made a beeline for his car. Rami wasn’t far behind.
Niko started the engine and, the second Rami got in, merged with the traffic.


“What the hell’s going on?!” Johnny demanded, reloading his pistol.
“What do you think?!” Michael shouted back. Luis, behind the wheel, told both men to shut up.
Karen looked out of the rear window. “They’re still with us!”
“What do we do?” Johnny asked.
“Right now you shoot. Luis keep driving – go to the airport.”
“What about them?”
“Lose them.”

“Well they’re running.” Rami noted.
“You don’t say.” Niko said, trying to keep up with them. “She’s a better driver than I thought.”
“It’s not her. She’s got help.”
Right on cue the man in the passenger seat ahead of them fired. Bullets dinged against the bodywork of their car and Niko swerved to make them a harder target to hit.
“Any time you want to shoot back is fine.” Niko said.
Rami nodded and drew his gun. “Try not to crash, Niko.” They words, usually jovial prods, held more tension now.

Their car hit an uneven part of the road, causing a severe jolt as a shot came from behind. Johnny collapsed in his seat as the first shot missed his head by mere centimeters. “F*ck me that man’s a good shot.” If it hadn’t been for the bump in the road, he’d be dead.
“You need to tell me where we’re going.” Luis called out.
“Airport.” Karen said, her voice wavering. Hadn’t she already told him that?
“Ok, but you won’t even get to the terminal.”
“You think so? You think they’re going to shoot us in the middle of the airport? They won’t even get back to their car.”
“They did it before.” Johnny added.
“Alright.” Karen conceded. “So what do you suggest.”
“Pull a fast one!” Luis called out as he jerked at the steering wheel.
“Alright smart-ass.” Johnny replied. “Got any suggestions?”
“Actually, yeah, bro.”

“Where do you suppose they’re headed?” Rami asked.
“I don’t know!” Niko shouted back before regaining his composure. “Out of town maybe?”
“Train or plane?”
“I don’t know. This guy’s a good driver, so I'm concentrating on that. Maybe you should take out their tires!”
Rami leant out of the window, timing it so that the lead car’s shooter was reloading.

Luis felt the car go. At first it titled to the left slightly then the grip went. The car began to turn, and Luis tried to correct it. As is common with such incidents, the driver over corrected. The car span out.

Niko had barely stopped the car when Rami jumped out. His gun was up.

“Johnny!” Michael shouted as his brother jumped out of the car. Rami fired but the biker had ducked behind the car.
“This aint my style,” The Israeli shouted out, “but whatever, I’ve got a bullet for everyone!”
Johnny jumped over the car, shooting as he did so. Rami recoiled but found no cover. The biker’s shots weren’t accurate. Once he was close enough, Johnny tackled Rami.

Luis was out of the car now, as was Niko. They exchanged gunfire. Karen led Michael out of the car, going for immediate cover.
“Rami!” Niko called. “They’re making a break for it!”
“Little busy here, Niko!” Rami kicked Johnny off of him. “Ready to die, friend?”
Niko saw Karen running off. Again he shouted to Rami.
“What?!” The Israeli snapped back before seeing the fleeing targets. He turned to Johnny. “You’re lucky.”

Johnny let out a sigh of relief as Rami ran off. It only lasted a second though. He realized that not only was the man running after his brother, but Luis could do with some help and he knew of just the thing.

Karen and Michael had reached the El train. She waited anxiously for it to pull into the station.
“Good timing.” Michael said, trying to regain his breath.
“Not good enough.” Karen said, seeing Rami at the bottom of the steps. “Come on.” She guided Michael along the platform, putting as much distance between herself and Rami as she could.

Rami saw the train stop and ran up the steps. Upon reaching the top he began to scan the crowds. At the end he saw the pair. He tried to run but the crowd forbade that. Instead he had to push his way through, ignoring the annoyed vocal snaps he got in return.

Niko and Luis, both taking cover, had reached a stalemate.
“Give it up, bro!” Luis called out.
“I’ve got all day friend!” Niko replied. Luis was shooting more aggressively, whereas Niko was shooting only enough to keep the man held back. “Let’s see who has more ammo!”

Johnny reached the train station and, with his vision darkening from exhaustion, began to climb the steps.

Rami reached the pair and grabbed the man, his gun out. A Chinese man turned and immediately his face dropped into that of terror.
“sh*t!” Rami rasped. He turned and saw Karen. Their eyes met for a second. The Israeli clicked his jaw and pulled his gun up. He was about to fire when line of sight was broken by a man in a baseball jersey. “Dammit!”

Johnny saw the man running toward the train. He saw Karen too, scrambling away from the door.
“f*ck you!” Johnny screamed, his gun up.

Rami heard the chime of the bullet as it hit the train first. The gunshot was an afterthought. Then came the screams. People began to run. Most dropped to the ground. Johnny fired again.
“sh*t!” Rami breathed, ducking as more bullets missed him. He looked up and saw Karen’s face in the window. The doors began to shut.
Rami turned to see the shooter – Klebitz! He brought his gun up and fired.

Johnny felt his leg go. He knew it wasn’t serious but it hurt like hell. He tried to return fire from his now prone position, but still missed. He took a breath and focused.

Dumb luck, Rami told himself. His shoulder was thrown back, but it didn’t hurt that much. A lucky shot, but it was enough. He recovered and ran toward Johnny, his gun up.

Johnny was no idiot. He saw the danger, and he fled in a limped run, ignoring the pain in his leg.

Niko felt his phone ring. He picked it up. “I'm a little busy now Rami!”
“Get to the airport!” Rami’s voice was hurried, and people were screaming in the background. “They’ve got on a train, heading to the airport, they’ve got to be. I'm going to try to head them off at the station, see if they get out there.”
The call ended.
“Sorry man!” Niko called out, shooting from his cover. He stood and, still shooting, began to run. “I’ve got to go!”

The shots kept Luis down long enough for Niko to get away. He swore at himself, then just stood there. Moments later four choppers turned up, Remnant MC members on them.
“Too late.” He told them.

Rami actually reached the station as the train was making its approach. He was impressed by that feat, but offered it no more thought. He ran to the platform and watched as the train exchanged passengers with the station. The targets did not step off. He also didn’t want to risk getting on in case they stepped off and he’d lose them. He’d simply follow the train. Besides, he was sure they were heading for the airport.

Niko was doing something he didn’t do often in his job. His mission was usually to operate covertly. He’d drive within the laws of the road. He’d blend with the traffic, and do the same on foot. When hunting his targets he moved swiftly but with deadly efficiency.
Now though, his foot was pressed firmly down. The car moved with the forward momentum of a mustang. Niko felt the surge of acceleration after every corner. He weaved in and out of the traffic, squeezing every last horsepower the engine had to offer. He had to mount the sidewalk on occasion too, but courteously laid on the horn. He was thankful no one ignored the warning.
Karen was feeling less comfortable. Unlike Niko and Rami, she was not in her element. Her job had originally been to passively gather information on Persons Of Interest, then, once she’d accepted the job after being released, her main role was to offer informational support. In essence, she sat behind a computer screen. Now she was on a busy train with the two most dangerous men she’d ever met trying to kill her. She looked at Michael, hoping he wouldn’t see her helplessness and fear.
He did.
“Last stop.” Rami said, reaching the top of the steps and standing aside. The train stopped and, as expected, the targets did not disembark. The second the doors closed fully he began to move.
Niko pulled over in the pickup area and stepped out of his car. He entered the airport and immediately looked for a good spot to wait. He’d use the brief delay to work out what to do next.


“What the f*ck do we do now, bro?!” Luis was looking around – he didn’t know what for, but right now he’d take anything.
“Get to the airport? I bet that’s where they’re headed.”
“But how do they know she’s going to the airport?”
Johnny shrugged already moving in search for a car. “I don’t know – a guess? Makes sense though doesn’t it?”
Luis sighed and ran into the street. He’d spotted a Dukes approaching and while it was no Infernus, the beefy engine would get them moving.
“I’ll drive bro!” Luis shouted, stepping in front of the car and pulling his gun out. Unsurprisingly, the driver stopped, allowing Johnny to appear at the door. It always amazed Luis that that worked. Why didn’t it occur to anyone to just duck down and accelerate, running the gunman over? Not that he was complaining, though.
“Get out!” He barked.

The train stopped, the speaker announcing their arrival at Francis International. Karen followed Michael out then led him down the steps.

Rami could see the train at the station, and knew the targets would now be on foot. He hated the fact that he couldn’t do anything, but he was caught in traffic – ordinarily not a problem as he’d drive onto the grass or something, but in a bitter twist of bad luck, a N.O.O.S.E Patriot was right next to him. He could see a LCPD cruiser ahead too. He had no choice but to move with the traffic, which was moving at under 30 KPH. He reached for his phone, checking to make sure the N.O.O.S.E guys couldn’t see.

Niko ended the call and pocketed his phone. Any second now.
He decided that subtlety was the way to go. If he took aim with his gun in here, he’d be dead in seconds. He kept his eye on the entrance, aware of the airport security that were around, if not paying much attention to him.

“sh*t.” Luis said, seeing the traffic as they pulled on to the airport loop.
“Cut across the car park.”
Luis did so, stopping close to the train station. He didn’t even bother turning the engine off; both men practically leapt from the vehicle.

Rami caught the movement out of the corner of his eye. The man – he was sure it was a man – disappeared behind the cars in front. Rami moved his gaze to his right slightly and…
“Oh, f*ck a duck!” He breathed. He’d already changed into the right lane but he still had a car length to go before he could turn into the pick-up area….
He turned aggressively, gunning the engine as much as was practical. He stopped, parking unevenly, and stepped out of his car.
“Excuse me sir!” He turned to his right. What was this? “You can’t park there! It’s for loading and unloading only.”
Rami’s mind made a split-second identification. No cop, security guard. “You’re kidding me, right?”
“No – You’re going to have to move it.” The security guard stepped closer and so did Rami. The Israeli quickly shuffled and grabbed the security guard, pulling him in. Rami actually spun, throwing the man into the car. The security guard – younger than Rami was – was dazed for a second. Rami then dropped down, sending his open palm into the man’s head in one fluid movement.
There was the strangely non-metal sound as the man’s head hit the car bodywork. Rami left him, sitting there unconscious. He’d be dazed still when he came to, but by then Rami would be long gone. He entered the airport, somehow without anyone noticing his ‘assault’.
Luis was on the phone to Karen’s latest disposable phone. He didn’t know where in the concourse she was. What terminal?!
Johnny was looking around for her when Luis said: “Los Santos!” He pointed and the two men began a hurried walk.

Niko had his eye on her. He’d walk up to her and put his arm round her, smiling like a relative. His other hand, in his jacket pocket, would poke her side with the gun, reminding her who was in control. Together they’d walk out of the terminal, meet Rami and head back to their boss. Only a fool would risk a shootout in an airport.

Johnny saw Niko first. He slapped Luis’s arm and nodded. Luis reached for his gun.
“Are you crazy!?” Johnny muttered, grabbing Luis and turning him to see a pair of cops. “I’ve got a better idea.”

Niko turned, hearing his name being shouted. He saw Johnny and Luis. Both – sh*t! Both man’s guns were out!

Karen turned and saw Niko just ten feet away. Beyond him she saw Luis and Johnny – holding guns?!
“Ah.” She said. She turned and rushed toward the gate. You geniuses!

The shout had gotten the attention of the cops. Johnny and Luis both had their phones in their hands, holding them strangely between their thumbs and the knuckled of their forefinger, bent into a fist. They’d pressed a button to light them up, carefully making sure their screens were visible to the cops. From Niko’s point of view they looked like guns.

Niko acted on impulse. He drew his gun, immediately realizing his mistake.

“LCPD! Drop the gun!”
At the mere mention of the word ‘gun’ people began to panic.

Niko, realizing he was either about to die or be arrested, ran.

The police were too disciplined to open fire – a habit that was nothing other than a Vinewood myth. Instead they gave chase. Luis and Johnny were simply ignored. Both men headed in Karen’s direction.

Rami’s phone rang and, upon answering, he heard one word: “Skyfall!”
“Oh sh*t!” He said. Immediately he turned and ran back to his car.

Niko bounded out of the airport like a horse at the start of a race. His eyes scanned his surroundings, for cover and a means of escape.

Rami had accelerated aggressively into the traffic, causing a taxi to slide to an emergency stop. He saw Niko run out of the airport and stood on the brake, leaning on the horn also.

Niko saw the car, and heard the screech of the brakes and rapid blaring of the horn.
In the car, Rami shuffled over to the passenger seat. He smashed his elbow against the window, shattering it – there was no time to wind it down.
“You drive!” He shouted.
Niko vaulted the railings and slid across the hood. He scrambled into the driver’s seat, slamming the door behind him.
Rami pointed his gun out of the window. The cops saw it and immediately recoiled, seeking cover, buying Niko enough time to stamp on the gas. The car surged forward in an awkward burnout.

“What the f*ck happened?” Rami shouted, looking in the mirror. Any second now…
“They pulled their guns out!”
“Who?!”
“Johnny and the other guy.”
“No sh*t?”
“Well… I thought they did.”
“What do you mean?”
“It looked like guns – it was their phones.”
“Oh, Niko…” Rami knew it was an easy mistake to make. You turn around and see your enemy pointing a black thing at you… Rami had once pushed the aerial of a phone against an enemy’s neck to convince him he was armed. It had worked, but that was in the mid-nineties. “They get away?”
Niko didn’t answer at first. Instead, Rami saw, he flexed his jaw muscles. “Los Santos.” Niko said after a second.
Before Rami could reply, the interior of the car filled with the all-too-familiar red and blue flashes. The sound hit them a split-second later.

Johnny and Luis waited for the plane to leave. They’d both taken off their jackets – a suggestion by Karen, so they wouldn’t remind anyone about the almost-shootout. Johnny was apprehensive about his brother going so far away.
“Don’t worry.” Karen said. “I have a contact in Los Santos. He can keep us safe. He’s been in this business longer than Rami and Niko put together. You have my word that he’ll be safe.”
“You said that before. Then look what happened.”
“I know but if he was handling this situation, it would be resolved by now. He knows all the tricks.”
“It’s cool Johnny.” Michael said. “No one knows where we’re going – thanks to you. If you hadn’t done that we’d either be dead or compromised. Still, even if they knew we were going to Los Santos, he wouldn’t be able to find us. L.S. is bigger than L.C.”
“Still, I’d feel better if I was coming with out.”
“I’ve only got two tickets, Johnny, and I need you here. We were right; there’s more going on. Besides, my contact has a very good friend who’s well respected in a street gang. I doubt even The Lost – sorry, Remnants – would last long in a fight with them.
Johnny nodded, aware of how violent street gangs could be – especially in Los Santos. He stepped forward and hugged his brother – the first time he’d done so for years, perhaps since meeting Billy.

He then watched as they disappeared through the doorway and then as the plane taxied away. He had a horrible feeling that the plane was going to explode on takeoff, but it didn’t.
Luis put his hand on Johnny’s shoulder. “Come on bro, let’s get you a drink.”


The night was not over for Niko and Rami though. They’d triggered a full scale terror alert. They had a helicopter on their tail, as well as three cruisers – two LCPD and one N.O.O.S.E – and a N.O.O.S.E Patriot. Roadblocks were already being set up, and police were alerted across the city.
Rami was reluctant to shoot too. So far they were in a pursuit, but the police in this city had been known to try to shoot out the tires or the subject’s car. Rami didn’t want to upset that status quo just yet.

Niko had an idea of where he wanted to go. “I’ve got a tactic I keep up my sleeve for losing the police. I don’t use it often though.”
“I’d say this would be a good occasion to use it. What is it?”
“I got the idea from a couple of friends of mine, when a job we were on got messy.”
Rami listened, keeping his eyes on the police – two more cruisers had joined them, and a roadblock forced Niko to turn. It was a good plan – not the best, but it was a tactic Rami had used once, and it had worked.

The bridge was the problem. They’d had to divert to the East Borough Bridge, as a heavy roadblock was set up on the Algonquin Bridge. “This is certainly going to make the papers.” Rami had said, noticing the traffic stalled by the roadblocks.

The pursuit carried on to Middle Park, where Niko had turned off of Quartz Street and taken the paths south. He turned onto Nickel street then headed south on Denver-Exeter. Star Junction was an area to avoid – its concentration of traffic and police presence made it practically a dead end. The alleyways to the west led them to Kunzite Street where Niko headed east.
“Get it ready.” Niko said. Rami nodded and reached into his pocket. He thumbed the pin on the grenade and gave Niko a nod.

They stopped just off Bismarck, as Niko had planned, having driven onto the plaza that held not-too-fond memories for him. They jumped out of the car as the police came to a stop, their doors opening instantly.
Niko leapt the hood again and followed Rami down the steps. Niko could hear the Israeli’s countdown and as his voice reached zero, the car behind them exploded. They’d timed it perfectly, ducking down the steps just in time to avoid the blast.
Rami tossed the pin into the bushes as they reached the bottom. Both men sprinted to their right, heading for the pedestrian tunnel that linked Albany Avenue to the Algonquin Bridge’s lower level.
Rami had a quick look as they entered the tunnel and saw no flashing lights. No cop cars. No foot-cops either.

It didn’t take them long to reach the top of the steps. Once there they immediately turned and climbed onto the subway tracks – checking for incoming trains first, of course. They disappeared into the tunnel.

Ten minutes later they emerged at Easton station. A few people saw them, looking with confused frowns. Both men ignored them and disappeared into the crowd.

Click Here to read the next chapter - The Pickup

This post has been edited by Mokrie Dela on Thursday, Aug 23 2012, 21:12

[AndyGanteks]

Oooh sh*t, this one here is so amazing, so tense, i love it.
One of the best chapters so far, if not the best!

[AndyGanteks]

Oooh sh*t, this one here is so amazing, so tense, i love it.
One of the best chapters so far, if not the best!

f*ck damn i want another one lol

[cammi]

I just finished reading City Of Lies, I will read this soon. Also City Of Lies is great

[Mokrie Dela]

QUOTE (cammi @ Wednesday, Aug 22 2012, 10:56)

I just finished reading City Of Lies, I will read this soon. Also City Of Lies is great

Thanks man. I've recently written the big moment of this story (which is in part 3), and it felt pretty epic. Hoping its epic when you all read it. Thanks for the interest and Andy, I'm glad you like it so much! Dearest Petrovic is one of my favourite chapters so far, and i'll get a new chapter up soon

[ACR]

Damn, the way you describe Niko as silent hitman makes me wish R* implemented stealth system in GTAIV and ability to attach silencer at least on handguns. Hope GTAV will have stealth sytem. I wonder who is man with gang connections in LS .

[AndyGanteks]

I just realized i double posted up there, sorry.

[cammi]

do you mind if I read this as pdf on kindle.

[Mokrie Dela]

QUOTE (cammi @ Thursday, Aug 23 2012, 13:37)

do you mind if I read this as pdf on kindle.

I don't have a problem with that. The only thing i ask is you leave feedback here, and if you share it with anyone, you share the link to this topic, so i can get some feedback and get credit for my work.

Making a pdf of this or City of Lies (I'd Recomend reacding City of Lies first) is fine.


I might make a PDF version of City of Lies someday, and this when its done. If you want you can also send me a PM with the pdf linked (if you host it) or use dropbox (or whatever its called) and i can link to it in the first post for others to use.

[Mokrie Dela]

For those who are interested; I've uploaded a PDF of City of Lies (and will do so with JIF when it's done).

http://sdrv.ms/Noabpd

[billy james]

OMG thats intense man

I was hoping someone would be killed off in that and when will you reveal who the contact is in L.S

[Mokrie Dela]

The contact will be revealed in due time.

And regarding deaths; don't assume that anyone won't be killed off. you might be surprised.

As a step further toward finding out about that contact, have a new chapter:

Chapter Eighteen - The Pickup

Niko’s boss was not too happy about their ‘failure’. Rami had explained it all, successfully disarming their boss’s argument that Niko had wanted Karen (Niko would always know her as Michelle) to escape. Yes, they had a history, but she did betray him. Rami was aware of two other people who’d betrayed Niko, and he knew of their fate also. It was unfair to suggest that Niko had a soft-spot for her, and Rami had explained that – firmly but respectfully – to their boss. Eventually he accepted the explanation and the conversation changed to their next assignment.
“I thought it was finished.” Niko said, knowing it was a mistake as he said it. “The mayoral elections are done, what else is there?”
“Back to normal work.” Their boss had said, almost dismissively. Both men had accepted that.


On the other side of the country, Karen was looking around the apartment. They were on the third floor and twelve of the sixteen apartments in the building belonged to members of the street gang. Karen felt genuine security in that, but also knew she wasn’t completely out of danger. Karen, now with blonde hair, cut shorter and styled differently, had found an internet café and made a comment on a video on Electrictit.com. The video was a clip from a Penetrators’ game. Karen’s post innocently praised a certain shot, stating that it ‘flew in like an airplane’. Johnny would check the website and, upon seeing the comment, know that they were safe.
The thing that unsettled Karen was not having access to the office. She was now cut off; she couldn’t gather any more information on her boss’s exploits. She still had access to the office’s secure network though.
The two of them had set out to the internet café. They’d both bought new clothes. Michael was wearing a hooded top and jeans – both of brands popular with the street gangs. He looked like a hip-hop star. Karen had picked up a few dresses and leggings. She actually looked younger now and exposed more of her body – both to commit to the change of style, and due to the warmer climate of the west coast.
“You think this will work?” Michael asked. He had become aware that they looked like a couple, thanks to a comment by the attendant as they entered.
“I don’t know. I'm hoping something’s on there. One of the things I did was book plane bus or train tickets, and that was all done online. Anything electronic payment made will show up on here… I hope.”
“Unless they use a private account.”
“Don’t even mention that.”

It took only a couple of minutes to access the system. Karen began searching through the recent accounting records then exhaled in surprise.
“What?” Michael asked, staring at the screen.
“What do you know, there is something on here. Either he’s become complacent or ….”
“Yeah, what is it?”
“A manifest for a shipment…. ‘…to Francis International Airport, Liberty City.’”
“A shipment of what?”
“I have no idea. Quite a big one – look.” Karen tapped the screen, showing Michael the size and weight.
“He’s actually shipping it through airmail?!”
“Yeah, you’d be surprised how often that’s done. It’s remarkably secure, and they can’t just open the packages when they feel like it, you know.”
“Well we have a paper trail. I'm amazed he’s left that.”
“Oversight probably. He makes the order while Niko and his friend are coming for us, assuming that there won’t be anyone who knows about this.” Karen shrugged. “Apart from us not being dead, there’re not any flaws in the plan.”
“Something that big can’t be moved by a car.” The shipping document listed the dimensions of the packages.
“You’re right – we’re looking at a truck. I need to make a call.” Karen cleared the computer’s history and cookies before logging off. They’d head to the train station and use one of the many payphones to contact Johnny and Luis.

It was Johnny that got the call. He had a ‘clean’ cell phone, one that he used only to receive calls from Karen. He answered it.
“There’s a shipment leaving Francis International.” Karen said, getting straight down to business. “Moving by truck. We’re not sure what it is, but our friend ordered it and is expecting delivery. I think it’d be a good move to stop it and find out what’s in it.”
Johnny nodded for a second before realizing Karen couldn’t see him. “Right.” He said. “Where’s the truck?”
“That’s the thing. We don’t know. The shipment will be coming in to the airport in….” Karen paused for a second, doing some quick math. “About ten minutes.”
“Wait, you’re saying we’ve got to go to the airport and find a truck with cargo in it?”
“That’s about right…”
“That’s crazy – do you know how many trucks will be – ”
“Yes I do. Get a bike or something. Find a truck and look at the driver. If the driver’s Niko, his Israeli friend, or one of the other two, then that’s your target.”
“We looking for one truck out of, what, fifty?”
“They might split it over two or four trucks. I don’t know how important it is, but please try to stop it.”
“Alright. How do I contact you when it’s done?”
Karen had thought of that. She gave Johnny the name of a hotel, one she’d already checked in to. “Call and ask for Laura Stone.” The alias was completely random, contrary to many Vinewood mystery blockbusters.
“Alright.” Johnny said. He heard his brother in the background, saying hi. Relieved his brother was still in one piece, he ended the call. He then turned his clean cell off and headed outside, finding a pay phone to call Luis’s ‘clean’ cell.

Luis’s first reaction was to laugh. Then, realizing this was no joke, allowed his face to turn serious.
“Where’s it going?”
Johnny shrugged. “We just gotta find it and stop it.”
Luis sighed. “This is insane.” He’d already placed the call for two fast bikes. “We’ve got to get to the airport, then check every truck on the road?”
“Yeah but if we’re on fast bikes…”
“Who says they’re sticking to the expressway? If they’re smart wouldn’t they take surface streets?”
Johnny blinked at that. “sh*t, yeah.”
“We don’t even know where they’re going. From the airport they could go north, say toward Bohan; west, either on the expressway or to Dukes…”
“Or south to Broker.”
“Yeah; three options to split up there.”
“Expressway, surface or…?”
“The bridge, bro.”
“So what do we do?”
“I can give Armando and Henrique a call. They can take the Bohan route.”
“Why Bohan?”
“It’s a rough area, bro. You think men as good as these will risk that?”
“So that leaves the two expressways and the two surface street options.”
“Yeah, scratch that third option to the south though.”
“Why?”
“It goes nowhere. If they went south, and ignored the surface streets and the bridge, they’d be stuck in Hove Beach.”
“Unless that’s the destination.”
Luis shook his head. “I doubt it bro.”
“Again, why?””
“There’s nothing there. Something big enough to take a truck to move it?” He shook his head.
“Could be going to the docks.”
“If that was true, why fly it in? Wouldn’t you ship it in?”
“Flying’s quicker.”
“sh*t, yeah. Look, Johnny, we’re going to have to make a guess here.”
“Ok, let’s ignore Bohan – they’d avoid the rough neighborhoods.”
“Forget the Hove Beach one too. The Russians might try to lift it. If I was headed to the docks, I’d take the expressway then go in from the north.”
“Ok, that leaves the two expressways and Dukes and Broker.”
“Two of us, Armando and Henrique.”
“Sorted then.”
“Not quite. Henrique won’t have enough to recognise them. Armando might if he’s looking at photos.”
“We don’t have photos.”
Luis smiled. “Don’t we?”
“Wait, what?”
“I’ve got an idea bro. First we need to find a cop car.” And that’s exactly what they did, finding one parked by the hospital. Luis smashed the window and stepped inside. He began to tap at the police computer. Half a minute later the small screen showed a picture of Niko Bellic. Luis transferred the photo to his phone.
“What’s the name of the other guy?”
“Ramya?”
“I’ll try R, A, M.” Five seconds passed and a few results appeared.
“Top one.” Johnny said, leaning in through the smashed window. He looked around, suddenly concerned that the cars’ owners would return. “Rami Yalon.”
Another photo appeared, and Luis copied that. The two then hurried away from the car. A minute later their bikes arrived, Luis having told Henrique of their change of location. He also texted the photos to Armando, who he’d told Henrique to bring along.
“What’s happening L?” Armando said, cleverly knowing this was not the time to mock him. “Who are these guys?”
“People we want found.” Johnny offered.
Luis nodded. “Henrique can drive – you’re looking for a truck. Any truck you see, check the driver out. If either of these guys are behind the wheel, call me straight away, and stay on them.
“sh*t, what about the other two?”
“Forget them. One of them looks like a trucker anyway, we’d be pulling over every truck.”
“Right well I got it, L. Where are we going?”
“Airport first. Then I want you to take the expressway toward Algonquin. I hope we find them before then.”
“And if we don’t? Just drive around Algonquin?”
“Yeah.” Luis’s voice lacked any conviction.
“Stick to main roads.” Johnny suggested. “You know, the wider streets.”
Armando nodded. “Ok we’d better go, we gotta find a car first.” Without further conversation, the two men ran off.
“So we take the surface streets.” Johnny said. Luis nodded.
“I’ll take Dukes. You good for Broker?”
“I guess.”

The airport had recovered from the incident the previous day – which had unsurprisingly made the morning’s papers – and now sported business as usual, with the exception of a few more police officers. It was typical of most security/law enforcement agencies; closing the barn door after the horse had escaped. Niko felt very insecure returning here, but they avoided the main building, turning to the cargo terminal. They collected the cargo, not knowing what it was, and rejoined the loop’s traffic. Niko had added a cap to his outfit in an attempt to hide his face.
Niko was thankful once they’d left the airport with no incident.

They reached the airport well aware that the truck had probably already left. The bikes sped through the airport loop, splitting up on the west side. Johnny followed the expressway until he could turn off for Broker, leaving the expressway ahead to Luis’s friends. It didn’t take long for him to spot the first truck. He rode up to it, glad he’d put on a crash helmet, as if it was Niko in the truck, keeping his face hidden would be smart. He allowed his head to turn, looking at the truck’s driver.

It wasn’t Niko.


It was the same story for Luis. The truck driver stared at the bike-rider, who suddenly realized how much of a long shot this hunt was.
The search rapidly became tedious. Truck after truck proved to not be their man. Ultimately though, it was Luis who got some luck. He over took one truck and looked back.

He had a hat on, but Luis was sure it was him. The passenger took a look at the bike and Luis became certain they were his men. He turned back to the road and accelerated. He reached a junction and skidded to a well-orchestrated stop. The truck passed and Luis moved to follow, one hand coming up to his head with his phone.
Johnny got the call and immediately turned, opening the throttle on the bike. He didn’t like these Japanese pieces of crap – okay, they might be faster, but he’d take a good old American chopper any day of the goddamned week.


“I think we have company.” Rami said, looking in the wing-mirror. “That biker just eyeballed us, and is now on the phone.”
“Coincidence?”
“I don’t think so. He’s following us, with his phone shoved up his crash helmet.”
“Hmm. What you want to do?”
“Keep driving for now, let’s do some dry-cleaning and make sure.”

Niko didn’t change his speed, nor his direction straight away. He turned onto a side-street beginning the first of several twists and turns, loops and turn-backs. The bike, though dropping back slightly, stayed with them throughout.
“No doubt for me.” Rami said, watching the bike. “Definitely a tail.”
“Hmm. How shall we play it? Lead him to a quiet spot?”
“No, let’s try to end this quickly.” Rami reached for his gun and thumbed the safety off.

Johnny saw Luis first, but was immediately welcomed by the flash and sound of a gun firing. Luis was the first to return fire, his shots missing their target; it was difficult to shoot and ride a bike at the same time. Johnny took longer to react but he too got his gun out.

In the truck, Rami had reloaded and waited for the right moment to fire again. He leant out of the window and took careful aim at the first biker.

Luis felt the front wheel go. He tried to keep the bike steady but it was like holding on to a rodeo bull. The handlebars bounced left and right and he lost control.

Johnny saw Luis struggle for a second before wiping out. The bike fishtailed, the front wheel – now with a shredded tire – clawing at the road in a shower of sparks. Like an angry horse resisting being broken in, the back jumped up, catapulting Luis off of it.
Johnny fired a few shots back at the truck as Luis flew through the air, ultimately crashing through a bus stop. Johnny followed the truck, having slowed down to see if Luis was alright.

“Idiot.” Rami whispered, taking aim again. The second biker had slowed down, but was no longer a moving target. The distance gave him some difficulty shooting, but after this third shot, the biker went down.

Johnny felt like someone had smashed a metal pole over his head. He saw the world tilt and felt his shoulder hit the floor. He’d been in enough crashes to identify the feeling, and immediately knew he was alright. He sat up to see the truck disappear round a corner. He got back on his bike and accelerated to the intersection, following the truck’s turn. He reached the next intersection with no sign of it.
“sh*t!” He said. With no other option, he returned to Luis, who was lying in amongst shattered glass. He was not moving.

Johnny approached the Dominican, removing his helmet as he did so. He was about to set it down when he noticed the dent on the side.
“Must have been where the bullet hit.” He said to himself, counting himself lucky he was still alive. He discarded the helmet, tossing it aside like a child bored of a basketball. He checked Luis’s pulse then decided he needed proper medical help. He reached for his phone and dialed 911.

“Well they’re still after us.” Niko said.
“You think it was Klebitz?”
“Had to be.”
Rami cocked his head with a one-shouldered shrug. “Right build. I think I got the other guy too.”
“Head?”
“That’s what I was aiming for.” Rami turned in his seat to look back at the cargo, forgetting there was no hatch to see through. “I find it frustrating we cannot confirm.”
Niko shrugged, turning the truck onto the bridge.
“Still wanting out?” Rami asked.
Niko shook his head. “I don’t know. I… I would miss it. Despite all the danger, I…”
“Enjoy it.” Rami finished. Niko didn’t respond. “I can admit that I do. All my life I’ve done this work, on both sides of the line. I’ve always been good at it. I’ve snuck into secure military facilities. I’ve assassinated men that were behind more protection than The President.” Rami scoffed. “It’s remarkable how easy it would be to kill The President.” A wry smile crept across this face.
“The trick would be,” Niko said, finishing Rami’s thought, “getting away with it.”
“Indeed.”
“I have some regrets though.”
“Don’t we all, Niko?”
“I am not foolish enough to pretend to be a good man.”
“A man who truly knows himself lives no lie.”
“Life has not been simple, but I don’t think there’s much I would change.”
“The war perhaps?”
Niko shrugged. “Perhaps. Perhaps something better would have come along. Perhaps we would have prospered on a farm.”
“Talk about undoing wars – I wouldn’t.”
“What war?”
“Well the wars I’ve fought were in secret. They were fought in the dark. There were not battles, only casualties; most of those were to preserve the peace. The ultimate irony – I committed acts of war in order to prevent one. And then they turned their back on me. ‘Thanks for your service, now f*ck off.’” Rami chuckled at the joke only he understood. “We’re old dogs, Niko. We have the experience required to do what we do – and do it well – but it’s a young man’s game. When do we decide that it’s time to move on?”
“People have to make life changing decisions every day. Often the correct decision appears to be the bad one. The right option is the one that’s less appealing. The easy way out, is often a dead end, or a shortcut to something worse.”
“I don’t think I could do the whole nine-to-five thing. If I… retire, then it would be for a life of leisure… But what an empty life that would be.”
Niko shrugged. “I’ve never thought about it. I’ve put all the nightmares behind me, and I had that choice – live the quiet life… We both chose this.”
“That we did, Niko. And do you know why?” Niko shook his head. “It is because we are old war dogs. This is all we know. This is what we do. This is what we are.”
“Would you give it up for the right person? The right girl?”
Rami sighed. “I doubt it; I didn’t before. It tore my marriage apart and killed my son. Yet I still march on, gun in hand. An angel of death, with no master.”
“What do you make of our work then?”
Rami shrugged. “It is just another assignment. Another target. It is not a good idea to allow yourself to have compassion for your targets. I’ve always been able to switch it off when working. Not everyone can.” Niko identified the dig at himself, but elected not to rise to it. “I’ve killed more questionable people.” Rami said with some loose finality. Further conversation was ended by Rami’s cell phone ringing. He answered and, after the short, matter-of-fact conversation, turned to Niko.
“We have another assignment. An urgent one. You’ll never guess where we’re going…”

Click Here to read the next chapter - For Evil and Good.

This post has been edited by Mokrie Dela on Monday, Aug 27 2012, 11:03

[billy james]

Their going to L.S, I,d laugh if the contact is The Main Character of GTA V

[Mokrie Dela]

QUOTE (billy james @ Friday, Aug 24 2012, 02:43)

Their going to L.S, I,d laugh if the contact is The Main Character of GTA V

Haha well I think we know too little about him for that.

The thought had crossed my mind though...

[Mokrie Dela]

Chapter Nineteen - For Evil and Good

Evidence.
That was the word Karen was using in their conversations. Sitting in the safehouse in Los Santos gave her some time to think. Perhaps the distance offered some objectivity, but she’d figured something out. The stolen weapons, the warehouse full of, more notably, explosives, the affiliation with an arms dealer. Her boss – former boss now, she admitted to herself – was gearing up for a war.
A war against who?
It was then, after Michael had phrased the same question but in a different way, that something fell into place. The last job her old boss was looking into before his ‘car crash’ was involving the mayor. And guns.
And it was Michael, fulfilling his purpose at last. She’d gone through his tour of the Middle East, asking about every week he could remember. It had taken hours but finally something had matched up.
“Ramirez’s evidence.” She explained to Luis. “We have been looking at the wrong man. The intelligence guy, my boss, yes he’s the one ordering all this, but who’s he working for? It’s not the mayor, but the now deputy mayor. Ramirez had proof of affiliations of those two. The new mayor has nothing to do with this. The thing that Michael knew, that was so important, was that he could put my boss and the deputy mayor together in the Middle East. A politician and an intelligence agent, at an army base in the middle of such a war-torn country. They were planning something, and Ramirez had something that pointed toward what it was.”
“And what’s that?”
“They’re going to assassinate the mayor. The rising crime rates ensure the right party comes into office. Then the cleanup operation is credited to the new mayor. He gets assassinated, and the deputy mayor steps up…”
“So what you gonna do, take him to trial?”
“It’s too late for that. Had we realized all this before the elections, we could have, but by the time any legal action is taken, it’ll be too late.”
“That must mean you have a job for me.”
“Yes. I want you to go into city hall, and get the mayor out. Don’t ask me how the hell you’re going to do it. Put a gun to his head and walk him out if you have to; we’re out of time.”
“How is he going to do it?”
“If I knew that, Luis, I would send you to stop it. Get him out of danger.”
Luis nodded and relayed the orders to Johnny. After a minute, the biker said he had an idea.

Neither man felt too bad about the murder – that’s what it was, there was no denying it. Some acts could be justified by the end result, but although this served a purpose, it was nothing other than cold-blooded murder.
The man in question was a journalist. Not too big of a loss to the world, both men surmised. They certainly weren’t about to end the life of a world renowned scientist on the verge of a medical breakthrough, or a local hero firefighter.
The journalist was in a café. A cup of coffee sat in front of him, and Johnny sat behind him. Luis, having pointed out that Johnny’s jaw-side tattoo was too conspicuous, had taken it upon himself to do the difficult. The café was busy, and the waiters had to slalom through the crowd to get the orders to the customers. Mistakes were made, though the waiters were, for the most part, experienced and blessed with good memories. Luis wondered if that’s why struggling actors waited on tables; both demanded good memories, though both also have their little reminders, in the form of notepads and Teleprompters. Luis, dressed in a shirt and trousers like many of the other patrons, stood by the staff door. Johnny did well enough to overhear the target’s order: a mochachino and a raspberry muffin. He texted Luis the details and the Dominican kept his eye out for the appropriate order.

Johnny had a simple task – distraction. Like many magic tricks, the secret lay in diverting one’s eyes in one direction, while an act was surreptitiously done in another. The waiter approached the target who was reading something – Johnny hadn’t been able to make it out. With perfect timing – something that had more to do with luck than skill – Johnny raised his hand.
“Excuse me!” He said, a little too forcefully. The waiter turned to look and reacted in the only way a waiter would.
“Bear with me one moment.”
The waiter had turned his head for less than two seconds, but it was enough for Luis to act. He’d been following the waiter and reached out, pouring something in the drink. The pair had done some research on the target – a quick check of his online blog. He was lactose intolerant, and thus had certain culinary needs. In this instance, his coffee was ordered with soy milk. Luis’s act was a simple one, pouring a single-serving portion of milk into the coffee. He managed to conceal the package but not withdraw his hand as the waiter looked round.
“What is that?” He asked, having already planned his excuse. “It smells… interesting.”
“Coffee with soy milk.” The waiter replied with narrowed eyes.
“Hmm. I might get one, it sounds nice. Tell you what, bring me one over and I’ll give you a nice tip.” Money usually negated minor suspicion.
“Hey you said one moment.” Johnny said, playing the enjoyable role of angry customer. “You chatting?”
“Sorry sir, I’ll be right with you.” The status quo was restored and the drink was delivered.

It took several minutes. The man began squirming and went slowly pale. Johnny, while pretending not to look, noticed and leaned in.
“You ok dude?”
“Yeah– no, I…”
“You don’t look too good. You want a glass of water?”
“No, I know what’s wrong… I'm…” The man leant in and sniffed the coffee. “I think they got my order wrong.”
“Don’t like coffee?”
“No I'm lactose intolerant. I…”
“That got milk in it?”
“Yeah.” The man looked like he was either about to pass out or hurl.
“Can I help?”
“I really don’t feel too good. I…”
“Perhaps you should go home.”
“I… perhaps I should.” The man was really pale now.
“You don’t look too hot, man. Is it a good idea to drive? Hell, I’ll take you out and get a cab if you want.”
“Yeah, that’s…” The man gagged and Johnny helped him up.

Outside, however, after explaining to the waiters and any onlookers of the man’s condition, no cab was hailed. Instead, Johnny ushered the man away from the café and down the side alley, where Luis had circled round to meet them.
“For what it’s worth, we’re sorry. The irony is this would be one hell of a story.”

The body was more of an issue. Luis had parked the car – stolen of course – in the alley and they quickly loaded the body into the trunk.
“What was that you put in his drink?” Johnny asked.
“Milk.” Luis said from behind the wheel. “You knew that.”
“Yeah but lactose intolerance doesn’t work that quickly, or that drastically.”
Luis shrugged, shifting. “So I put in an extra little something.”
“Like what?”
“A drug Armando gave me. Mix it with milk and it causes it to curdle. Ever had milk curdle in your stomach?”
“Doesn’t that happen with Irish Car Bombs?”
“Yeah it does, bro.”
“Then yes.”
“Not pleasant.”

They drove to a quiet area – a spot on Colony Island – and parked out of sight. Luis grabbed the gun and checked it was loaded. He pulled the slide back theatrically before stepping out of the car.
“You have to give him credit.” Johnny said after he’d opened the trunk. The journalist knew the sight for what it was. His reaction was that of resignation more than fear. Perhaps he was no stranger to firearms. He did nothing other than sigh.
“Out.” Luis said. The man obeyed, perhaps hoping compliance would buy him his life. Luis pointed him in toward the river.
A single bullet was all it took. There was little more sound than the mechanical action of the weapon and a slight pop as the bullet exited the silencer, coupled with the wet crack of the bullet piercing the journalist’s skull. There was no flash either, though one might have been visible in the dark. Immediately the man went limp. The force of the shot, albeit weak in terms of firearms, was enough to send the instantly-dead body to the ground like a felled tree.
Johnny allowed nothing more than a sigh and collected the man’s things. They had to hide the body first, of course.
“That’s the easy bit.” Luis said, once the deceased had sunk to the bottom of the river, a couple of conveniently close concrete blocks anchoring him down.

Rami wasn’t one for taking things on face value. His employment with the current agency – even after several years he was unsure as to its designation – was just that; employment. He had the good fortune to not need the money; what he had tucked away in several off seas accounts, as well as multiple safe houses and stashes, would be enough to support him for the rest of his life – if he lived wisely. But, like many people, he was used to the superfluous luxuries. That wasn’t even it, was it? he’d asked himself on occasion. It had little to do with the money. It had little to do with the finer things in life. He wasn’t high society. He didn’t frequent fancy restaurants, or high-end retail stores. He didn’t care for the fancy bars, though he liked a drink as much as the next man.
The truth of the matter was that it was about the work itself. Rami was a man who was addicted to the rush. His was a tradesman of death. He was a killer of men. Much like Niko.
Friends also came hard to Rami. His work depended so much on anonymity that it practically denied him much of a social life – another reason, perhaps, that he was seemed unable to leave this life. That was perhaps Niko’s downfall; he was too conscientious, too concerned about others, weighed down by the humanity that a social life offers. But it was in Niko that Rami saw something. Not a professional admiration, but a human one. In Niko he saw the man he used to be. He saw the hope, the promise that his career held. With Shin Bet and the Mossad, he was a crusader for the righteous, a crusader for good. But Israel was no perfect country – even the fiercest of patriots had to admit that. Did the Cold War have good guys and bad guys? It was a war out of paranoia. The United States, as much as the Soviet Union, feared annihilation. Such concerns facilitated the creation of more advanced weapons and the advent of nuclear arms, ironically strengthening the paranoia and fear on both sides, as well as the likelihood of the unmentionable, a malignant catch-twenty-two. The Yom Kippur War was no different. His nation was tied with the Soviet-American stalemate, as was Syria, Egypt and their allies. The land that Israel was built upon had seen its share of conflict – perhaps more than any other land. The wars that had been fought there were biblical.
And now another war had begun, and Rami was well aware of that fact. This time though there was no enemy. Their employer was lying to them. Niko had sensed it from the start, and Rami remarked on that irony. He’d preached professionalism, to use the word he disdained, his cold-blooded point of view, detached and objective, had hidden that to him. And now he was aware of it, he had to ask himself if that changed things.
In his mind, to his self, the answer was no. That had been his first reaction. But the truth and the world weren’t as simple as that were they? Niko’s concerns and the ultimate deception of their employer had enlightened Rami to that. Now he found himself questioning things. He would still do his job though, for he was a man of professional pride. He didn’t much care for anything other than that. In his life he’d gained so much, but lost more. Too much, some might say. For a quarter of a century he’d been practicing the art of killing men. At the end of the day, did it matter if his target was appointed by a state government, or a paying customer? Objectivity and detachment were his most useful tools. Rami had never thought to ask himself if he relied on them too much.
But ultimately, beyond the names of his targets, behind all the killing, stood a man. And men had needs. Sometimes, they just needed to talk.

Luis was nervous. sh*tting bricks, as he’d said to Johnny. He saw the security, the hoards of police, swarming around like locusts – or zombies. He saw the more worrisome private security and found himself asking if they were FIB or US Marshalls or Secret Service.
The pass card got him inside. They’d manipulated it to have his image on it, and no one questioned it. Interviews were common place at the moment.

Underneath the deceased’s clothes – Luis had put them on as he had no idea what a journalist would really wear, and doubted a hood would be good enough – he was sweating. Thankfully the man was fatter than Luis was muscular; there was enough room under the clothes to prevent sweat-stains, but not enough for them to appear a poor fit.
Luis was a charmer. He could sweet talk almost any woman and had the confidence to back it up. He wasn’t an unattractive man, his body not overtly bulky, but muscular, an attribute the women seemed to respond well to. His life was perfect really. He had it on tap, without the shackles of a relationship. He had a job with good pay, and had money, but also the time to live life. Working in a club helped him enjoy it and he had most of the day time to do whatever the hell he wanted. Also as the boss, he could leave early whenever he wanted. He even managed to avoid the paperwork side of things; he’d employed someone to do that for him. He was strong and fit too, a good driver and had accomplished a lot in his life.
But this was all uncharted territory. He could woo any girl, fabricate small lies to impress her but this was different. He had to act like a journalist, not just talk the talk, but walk the walk – literally.
It began well. The I.D. fooled the first set of guards and he found himself inside the building, walking down a hallway of polished marble flooring. His footsteps didn’t echo like those of women in high-heels and men in dress shoes. He wore soft-soled sneakers, dark enough to not look conspicuous but more comfortable than shoes.
People looked at him, but in the same way that people looked at others in the street. They saw him there but continued with their day, their tasks holding more importance than some guy in the hallway. He caught the eye of a woman he assumed was a secretary; a slender woman, mid to late twenties, he guessed, her executive skirt almost hiding a good set of legs and, behind a pair of glasses, eyes that held more passion than her job was worth. Her blouse and jacket hugged her body well and Luis felt the pang of lust. He had to ignore it though, as much as he wanted to explore underneath the feminine suit. It was one of his favorite games; stripping back the layers to reveal the body beneath, seeing if his imagination was correct, seeing how well she was toned, wondering what she did to work out, and what styling and grooming choices she made. The quiet ones often turned out to be the best ones too – although he rarely went for the intellectual type, he found that they offered a unique experience.
Luis ignored his primal desires, as difficult as that could be at times, and carried on. It helped that he was nervous about his current role and his ability to do it. Though that often made a man crave some relief, be it through cigarettes, drink or sex, in this instance he was too anxious to want to do it – no that wasn’t right, he wanted to do it but not only could he not afford to, but the current situation might make it a struggle, and he didn’t want to be in the situation where such physical requirements were not risen up to.
The corner of the hallway helped him put such thoughts behind him, and focus on his current job.
“Wait.” The voice was curt and as Luis turned, saw the face that matched it. “Who are you?” Luis said nothing, but held up the pass card. “A journo’.” The man snarled at that word. Well, Luis told himself, who didn’t hate them? “What you doing here?”
Luis shrugged. “Was supposed to be doing an interview with the mayor.” He sighed and looked around. “Security’s tight.”
The man ignored the bait and followed up his line of questioning. “An interview? Just you?”
“Look, the paper I work for is sh*t, alright? I don’t even like it, but if I want to work for the ‘Shopper, I gotta start somewhere. Can you take me to the him?”
The man chewed on that for a moment. “Yeah, I guess.”
A few minutes later Luis was standing face to face with the mayor.
“Who’s this?” The mayor asked the security man.
“Journalist. Here for an interview.”
The mayor frowned. “But I haven’t got an interview planned.” Immediately the security man tensed up and Luis knew he had to do something. He tore off his ID and threw it to the floor.
“F*cking incompetent pricks!” He sighed then picked up his ID. Good acting, bro. “Sorry. The paper I work for… I just want to write for the Shopper. Sports. Instead they got me doing this, and they haven’t even set it up!”
“We’ll escort you out.” The security man said.
“Wait, bro! I'm here now and this will only take a minute.”
The security man looked at the mayor.
“Yeah alright.” He nodded to a sofa where they sat.
“I haven’t got long, so be quick.”
Luis pulled out a folded document from his pocket. It was a printout but it had what was needed. He handed it to the mayor.
“What is this?” The mayor asked, wisely keeping his voice down.
“You are about to be assassinated.” Luis whispered. The mayor blinked. “But not by me. I'm here to prevent that.”
The mayor looked at the papers then to Luis. “Why should I believe you?”
This was the hardest bit. “Because bro, I’ve been through hell over this.”
They mayor’s eyes jumped to the security guard, but he made no other act. “Go on.”
Luis spent the next few minutes explaining everything – from the car crashing into his club to the shootouts.
“How do I know you’re not just trying to get me into the open?”
“Luis Fernando Lopez, bro. I run Maisonette. Look me up if you have to – get a check done on me, I don’t care. I'm here to get you to safety.”
The man almost laughed. “What do you think these men are for?”
Luis kept his face deadpan. “To keep you here.”
The penny dropped and the mayor’s face showed it.
“Everything alright sir?” The mayor’s personal security guard inquired.
“Yes. Everything’s fine. Wait here, we have to discuss something sensitive.”
“Can’t do that sir, our orders are to keep you safe, allowing you out of our sights is a security risk.” The Mayor and Luis shared a look. “It’s ok, we’ll be a minute.”
The man shook his head. “Again, not going to happen. It’s time this man left.”
“But we’re not finished.”
“Yes, you are.”
“What do I do?” The mayor whispered.
“Don’t move.” Luis replied before standing. “Alright man, I'm gone.”
The security guard moved toward Luis, his arm out to usher him from the room.
Luis remembered his cage-fighting days well. Some things never left you, and that sport forced toughness. His hands came up and grabbed the arm on either side, forcing it to bend backwards. The elbow snapped and the man cried out. Luis immediately punched him in the face and he went down, unconscious.
Luis too went down, but came up with the man’s gun, complete with silencer. He fired it at the other two men in the room.
“This is the ultimate test, bro.” Luis said, turning to the mayor. “If I was here to kill you, you’d be dead. We’ve got to go.” Luis even threw the gun at the mayor as he retrieved another. “See?”

The mayor directed Luis to the ‘emergency exit’ – the door that, in the event of a situation, would take him to safety. Two men stood in front of it.
“Where are you going sir?” One asked.
“There’s a security situation here…”
“No sir, there’s not. We have this place secure. Please return to – ” Luis fired the shot that silenced the man, then aimed at the other man.
“Don’t shoot.” The man breathed.
“A bit spineless for a security guard.”
“So would you be with a gun in your face. You’re not going to get away with it you know.”
“Why’s that then?”
“There’s two more men behind this door. Soon as you step out…”
“Thanks.” Luis fired, hitting the man in the middle of the forehead. Perfect. He hoped his sizing up of these men was accuracte.
“Now what?!” The mayor was worried.
“Can you shoot?”
“Yeah, I'm a member of a gun club – ”
“Famous last words.”
“What?”
“The last guy that said that to me got himself shot ten seconds later.” Luis shook his head. “We go out, you look left. Shoot any of these so called guards you see, ok?”
“Yeah I got it.”

Luis kicked the door open and moved out, the mayor just behind him. He turned right and fired at the man, then looked around for any more.
The mayor had dispatched his man, with three sloppy shots to the chest. No other ‘guards’ were visible.
“How are we going to get away now?” The mayor asked, seeing a man with a gun in the distance point at them.
“Put this on.” The voice was a different one. The mayor turned with his gun, about to shoot when Luis stopped him. The new man, with a tattoo on his neck…
“He’s with us, bro.” Luis said. “Put them on.”

Greenhorn and D’Amico remarked on the audacity of this man.
“Who the f*ck is he?” Greenhorn demanded.
“I don’t know. We should have found that out. Who cares though? We have our orders.”

Johnny snickered at the man, who looked out of place in the biker leathers. The helmet helped conceal his identity, but he still looked out of place.
“Follow me.”

“They’re leaving.” Greenhorn growled, his gun now out, the carry case to their larger weapon slung over his shoulder.
“Alright, let’s take them down.”

Their weapons were not silenced. The gunshots were loud, their echoes bounced back at them by the wall of buildings. Luis turned and immediately saw the gunmen – the brute and his skinny amante. He returned fire.

The boys were a block away. Too much police and security prevented them from getting any closer.
“Keep your head down, and keep moving.” Luis ordered as Johnny moved ahead. They ran across the road as the gunfire began to turn away from them. Luis allowed himself a look to see the contrasting duo shooting at the police that had tried to stop the gunfire.

Johnny was expecting a huge gunfight, something like in the shooter games he’d seen. But all they did was run to the bikes, stashed out of sight. The bad news was that the brute and his partner had picked up their trail; the latter had stolen a car after he’d seen the bikes.
“Quick!” Johnny shouted, manhandling the mayor onto the back of his bike. Luis returned fire again before getting on his. Seconds later their bikes roared to life and bolted onto the road, Luis covering the rear.

Police had joined what had become a chase in seconds. Greenhorn was shooting his submachinegun out of the window and Luis was awkwardly returning fire. He wasn’t a fan of big choppers, and the Lycan beneath him felt clumsy and slow.

The sight was something to behold. Pedestrians were screaming and fleeing from the sound of gunshots as the two bikes approached the intersection, behind them four police cars, five police bikes and the plain car leading the chase. But the sight that took their breath away was what had been waiting in the two side streets. On seeing the bikes approach, a man had set off a flare and from the two side streets, a torrent of bikers poured onto the road. Members of The Lost Motorcycle Club’s Broker chapter and the Remnants MC joined the two bikers, each bike holding two men. The passengers had one communal role – to shoot. More bikes came out of the alley ways, and within seconds the bikes had surrounded the mayor and Luis, as well as coming up from behind the police.

The sound of gunfire was like nothing Luis had ever heard. He’d worked in loud nightclubs for years, but this was louder – much louder. It sounded like twenty death-metal songs playing at once, all out of sync. The police and N.O.O.S.E vehicles were instantly overwhelmed as the bikers began shooting. But despite their numbers, the men were exposed. The police shot back, slowly beginning to eliminate the bikers close to them.

Greenhorn kept his gunfire forward. The bikers behind him were focusing on the police who had stepped up and given them a fight. Those in front of him were shooting too – mostly with pistols or submachineguns – but the nature of being on a bike impeded their accuracy.
Every biker knew their destination, and what lay in wait for them. Like a flock of birds, they turned north, as did D’Amico, who was also firing his gun. No one here had infinite ammo, and the biggest question was who’d run out first. It didn’t take a clairvoyant to work that one out.

Johnny wondered if this was what Michael had witnessed in the Middle East. It was chaos, no other word would do. The noise had deafened him and the shouts of bikers, the mayor and pedestrians were silenced. He hated the risk that these bikers had been exposed to, but biker gangs were brotherhoods – something that Billy had lost sight of. Mess with one of them; you mess with all of them.

The car’s windows were gone, shattered by multiple shots. Both men were shooting wildly, their aim as dynamic as possible. Greenhorn’s shots were slowly taking the men out – through luck mainly. One by one the bikers began to fall, but as the men began to develop an advantage, the car cut out, thick black smoke rising from the hood. The bikers passed, followed by more police cars.

D’Amico was out first, shouting for Greenhorn to follow with the heavy carry case. It took mere seconds, but they’d stolen another car and began to play catch up.
“Ignore the police.” D’Amico shouted. “Take those bastards down!”

The swarm of bikers was now half its size. Those that had wiped out and survived would flee – very, very quickly.

Johnny turned on to the bridge with the dozen bikers around him. He was following the two lead bikes, flanked by two more. Those at the front had one task – to take out any road blocks. A grenade launcher did that job well, and they rode far enough ahead to avoid endangering their fellow bikers.

Armando and Enrique had their part to play. They’d been well ahead, and had commandeered the toll booths. All were empty now, and the traffic was quick to drive off on seeing the approaching hoard of bikers, and the flashes of their guns. Armando and Henrique sat in a Bullet, waiting. Henrique was to drive, and Armando just stared out of the window, his hand on the remote.

Johnny tore through the open toll booth, along with the other bikers. Those that were near the police had pulled off though, and the gap that separated the leading throng of bikes and the police began to close, though the police were slowed as they approached the limited access of the toll.

Armando saw the last biker tear through the toll, and the ones behind turn. Now!
Johnny was already making the turn on the bridge as the explosion rocked it. The toll booths exploded in a shower of glass and metal. The supports that held the roof up ruptured and the roof collapsed, like a house of cards. The police cars didn’t have a chance. Two were crushed under the rubble, and those behind had no time to brake. They simply ploughed into the solid concrete and flames. Those that were far enough back to brake crashed into each other.

D’Amico and Greenhorn were lagging far enough behind to avoid the pile-up. The stopped and stepped out, seeing the bikers beyond the rubble and flames of the crashes ahead. D’Amico reached into the back seat – to the bag he’d thrown in there as they stole the car, and pulled out the sniper rifle.
“I had a feeling I’d need this.”

Luis looked back at the now empty road. He flashed his light and sounded the bike’s horn, the signal that they were clear. But what followed was a strange noise. It sounded like someone biting into an apple, only not as sharp. It wasn’t until he saw the splash of red in front of him that he realized what it was. The biker was thrown to the side of his bike, his body buckling in the same instance that he died. The sound came then, mere milliseconds later, but was unmistakable.

“Kill!” D’Amico said, already adjusting his aim. “Oh hello,” He slowed his breathing once more. “and… goodbye.”

Luis had to swerve to avoid the bike, its momentum carrying it on for almost twenty meters. He jolted right, unaware that this small maneuver would save his life.

The clang of the engine being struck was deafening, and Luis felt the impact resonate throughout his entire being. The bike wobbled as the engine died and Luis lost control. The world spun around him and he felt another Jolt. He saw the railings pass his face, shortly followed by a contrastingly relaxing feeling, almost like he was having an outer body experience. His vision was blurring but he saw the bridge, now behind him, and a flash of the sun. Then the tree as a branch hit his arm. From then he saw nothing. He felt the water hit him, and heard the splash, but it was already feeling like a dream.
As soon as the bikers reached the ground of Dukes, they scattered. Police from the nearby police station were there within a minute, but were presented with about twenty bikers, going in every possible direction. Some gave chase but most were caught wrong footed.

Johnny made the turn, not the one planned, but the one that circumstance had dictated. The mayor was safe, that was what counted. For Johnny though, he hoped it was worth it.

Click Here to read the next chapter - Why Did We Come Here?

This post has been edited by Mokrie Dela on Monday, Sep 3 2012, 10:25

[billy james]

That chapter was packed with everything you could think of, except Niko doing anything

I hope you will reveal who the contact is in the next chapter! "Why Did We Come Here...?