RON Alternates Wind Farm, Los Santos County
The turbines whirred by fast. Tyler gazed at the majesty of their blades as he ate his lunch. A turkey sandwich with store bought gravy. He was full by the time the blades spun round for the seventeenth time. Dropping the leftovers back into his brown paper bag, he felt around for a different kind of aid. Alongside the half-eaten turkey sandwich was an AP Pistol and three magazines. Tyler wasn't hungry anymore after he watched Trevor beat up another drunk to death right in front of him.
"Look Trev, could you stop doing that, please?" said Tyler and Trevor responded "Hey! Nobody calls me Trev but close friends, and all you did were a couple of errands for me so shut the hell up before that dead bastard over there becomes you!" Tyler sank back into silence. This was his first year in Los Santos and he has already turned to a life of crime, obeying meth kingpin Trevor Philips. His time back in Australia was much better than this. Back there, he was a professional racer and army sergeant, and so far, in Los Santos, his life has been going pretty good. Now, at the age of 21, he has emerged as a deadly and intimidating man to be messed with but Trevor didn't know that, not yet. The weather was getting cold but cold in Blaine County still counted as blazing hot anywhere else.
Tyler was only using Trevor to get his greater goal. He thought life was good, that he was getting somewhere and that everything would turn out fine. This is when it all changed. "Tyler, I've got a job for you" said Trevor after calming down. "There's this drug dealer that emerged out of nowhere. He's already got twice as much product coming in than me and is starting to become a real threat to my business. His name is Stanley and I want him dead." Tyler didn't think twice about it and agreed to the job. "Payout's ten grand if he dies. Double if you bring him back to me alive." Tyler smiled and went off. This was good money. Good for when he finally hands Stanley in, collects the cash and kills Trevor, but that was for another time. He can save the AP Pistol for later as he walked off. Little did he know that this mission was about to change his career.
For once in his life, Stanley was happy. His marriage had settled and his business was blooming. He smiled out the window. This building was going to be the centre of all drug production in Blaine County. "What'ya looking at?" asked his wife. "Just… the sand" he replied "and our new life." Stanley turned to face his wife "This is just the start, and when we grow this empire, nothing will stop us. Drug dealers will be too scared and so will the cops. We'll run this town. We'll own this town." They both smiled as Stanley's wife left the room for him to stare back at the sand. But enough of that, Stanley turned away and walked out the other door and upstairs to his meth lab. "Hey, how's it going?" asked Stanley as he checked up on his trusty employees. The lead cook replied "all's going well. We should have another ten keys done by tonight." "Excellent" said Stanley as he once again peered out the window.
The sun was starting to set. He should go check on the armoury. Stanley walked back down the stairs and further, until he reached the basement level. Here there were around eight well trained men ready to obey any order Stanley executes. With the training of Special Forces operatives, they saluted Stanley even though he kept insisting that they didn't have to. "Give me an update on the ammunition shipments" he asked and the captain replied "They arrived this noon when you were out, sir." Stanley uttered "excellent" as he gazed upon the spectacular shine of the polished rifles and machine guns. Suddenly, the breaking of glass and muffled screams cut through the air and Stanley was alerted immediately. "That came from the lab" he said as he signalled his men to move into position. They grabbed carbine rifles and headed up. Stanley took his personal Special Carbine and Custom Combat Pistol and followed them. Rushing up the stairs, the captain saw blood dripping down. Either someone had a very bad accident or an intruder was violating his terms and conditions. Stanley and his squad continued upstairs. The captain went first and he slowly stepped into the meth lab. The lead cook and security guard were dead while the rest were cowering in fear. Slowly, the squad moved into the room one by one being as careful as possible, but nothing could prepare them for what happened next. The captain opened the lab closet door and found a half-naked man with duct tape over his mouth. Stanley arrived and finally recognised him. "That's the lead chef." "Then whose body is-" The captain's voice was cut short by the suddenly animate body of the lead chef. With his face hidden behind the gas mask, the man drew his AP Pistol and shot half of Stanley's soldiers dead. Stanley and his surviving crew were forced to retreat back down the stairs. "Defensive Positions!" he yelled as he readied his Special Carbine. Two soldiers aimed at the top of the stairs while the rest took cover on the floor beneath. Stanley was not ready. Not at all.
Beads of sweat ran down his face as he faced imminent danger. His years of military experience must not have gotten him far. After all, now he was married. His Special Carbine wobbled in his hands. Two shots rang out and a soldier fell dead on the ground floor. The two guarding the stairs rushed down only to face a hail of bullets from behind. This man was quick. Real quick. Stanley and his remaining soldier backed into a corner. This however led to the deadly grenade being chucked at their feet. It rolled at them mockingly. Stanley quickly kicked it away before it exploded. Out of the smoke came a haunting figure, one that Stanley would never forget in his life. This figure was his death. Stanley's loyal soldier fired blindly into the smoke only to receive a bloody hole in his head. The figure came into view and Stanley, for the first time in his life felt and saw death up close. Tyler. He held his AP Pistol at Stanley and said "It's nothing personal. Just business." Stanley however instantly diverted his attention behind Tyler and saw a Nagasaki Blazer loaded with sticky bombs driving straight towards the building. Tyler peeked back for a split second before Stanley moved his Special Carbine and shot the ATV, causing a massive explosion to completely demolish the front face of his building. This explosion was enough for Stanley to draw his weapon on Tyler who was thinking the same thing. Now they were both standing with guns pointed at each other. Stanley interrupted the silence "I saw what that ATV said. TPI. Trevor Philips Industries. I should have known that you worked for him." Tyler replied "Not anymore" and Stanley continued "So you get it. He sent you to destroy my meth lab only for him to send a bomb to finish it off, and by doing so, kill you in the process. What did he offer you, ten grand? He gave me the same offer once and the next day my apartment exploded. " Tyler lowered his weapon. "Well in that case, Trevor is dead to me. How about this, we kill Trevor then go back to shooting each other up?" Stanley laughed "sounds like a deal to me." They shook hands and sat down to plot their revenge.
Sandy Shores, Blaine County
One Week Later
The TV droned on in front of Stanley. His wife was starting to get bored. She checked her watch and said to him "I think it's about time I get started on dinner." Stanley, who was woken up from his trance replied "Okay, yeah. I think it's about time I get back to work too." He lifted himself off the couch and started to walk over to his study. This was interrupted by a knock on the door. "Don't you worry hon, I got this one" said Stanley as he marched over to the door. He opened it and on the other side was none other than David Mannis. "Hey, Stan." Stanley replied "Why am I not surprised to see you here? I've told you before David, I'm not coming back to the force." David scoffed and said "You know that's not what I'm here for, they wouldn't even let you back. Not after that shit you pulled in '04." Stanley stared passively at him, tilting his head just the slightest bit "I thought we agreed to not bring that up." David sighed and said "Look, forget that. I'm here to check up on you, okay? That's what friends do. And it seems to me that all that gunfire last week wasn't some house party. I know you've been making new friends, and these friends aren't exactly they party type." Stanley passive expression faded "Okay David, first off, we are not friends. Secondly, my house parties can get a little over the top but I completely deny any acts of violence that has occurred at this household.
I am happily married and my wife knows it." David looked around him and picked up one of the many blood covered 9mm bullets lying around "explain this then" he said as he held it up. Stanley calmly replied "Christmas decoration." David picked up a Combat MG that was leaning against the outside wall "and this?" "Toy gun. Harmless" replied Stanley. An unconvinced David said "Harmless, huh?" as he raised the gun at Stanley. Almost suddenly, Tyler emerged from behind David and put a switchblade to his throat. "Easy, T" said Stanley "Besides, I don't think you can take down the Mannis if you tried." Tyler snarled at Stanley "wanna bet?" Stanley laughed a little and said "Yeah. I kinda do. I've never seen Dave lose a fight before." David commented "that's right, kid. You don't wanna tangle with me unless you wanna get tangled yourself." Tyler smiled and said "You're on" as he started to draw blood. It was at this moment that David lifted Tyler's arm off with ease and pulled him over his shoulder, slamming him onto the ground. "And that was him going easy on you too" commented Stanley "You're good T, but you're not Mannis good." Tyler picked himself up and dusted himself off. He stood still with his dignity still attached. Stanley broke the silence "Now I think I have a bet to claim."
"Give it to me straight, doc" said Stanley. David, who was on the opposite couch said "well, the cops won't come after you. Not for now, anyway. They won't mess with meth dealers like you for two reasons. The first being that you guys are their only sources of getting high, and the second is that they are just too shit scared of your type. I mean have you seen Trevor Phillips? Now that guy is a fucking maniac." "Yeah" replied Stanley "so I've heard." Tyler kept to himself but was still listening in on the two. They needed him for the plan to take down Trevor Philips, but for starters, they have to weaken him. Destroy his supply lines, sabotage his storage and eviscerate his customers. This will make him desperate, and when he's desperate, he's unprepared. David was unsure of the whole plan. To take down one of the most feared meth and arms dealers in Blaine County was not an easy task. They all had their own reasons. For David it was that he was untouchable by the cops, and therefore was able to get away with many murders of innocents.
For Tyler it was betrayal, and for Stanley, it was just business. David agreed. "Okay guys, I'm in for this one, but if Trevor finds out that we, the police department were involved, then we're done for and I'll be fired." "Thanks, Dave. We need you" replied Stanley. "Are we ready?" "We've got one Armoured Enus Cognoscenti ready to go. We pose as high end members of the Kalo-Wincher association and infiltrate their headquarters in Chumash. Now we know that these guys are a major supplier for Trevor's meth cooking so taking Kalo-Wincher out from the inside will definitely cripple Trevor and his cook's ability to make meth." "Okay. I'm undercover anyway so why not?" said David. "Let's go." The trio walked off to the garage and gazed at the magnificence of the Cognoscenti. Its long, limo like wheel base sure made it look fit for VIPs, maybe not of Stanley's class, but of a class he'd much rather be in. The three got in and immediately Tyler went for the champagne in the back. David asked "how exactly did you afford this?" Stanley answered "I didn't. It's a rental… which I acquired illegitimately." David buckled his seat belt "Okay then."
The Cognoscenti was surprisingly fast for an armoured limo-like car. The drive over to Cape Catfish didn't take as long as they had thought. It was night, not morning, and that meant progress. The idea of using this small, unincorporated fishing settlement as a secret drug import location was pretty clever, David had to admit. "You gotta give it them, running a whole damn business from here." Stanley drove into the settlement slowly, keeping calm and making sure that he looked like one of them. This was one occasion that his default formal clothing came into handy. A tall, buff looking man stepped in front of the car, forcing Stanley to stop. "That's far enough. State your business." The man was even bigger than David, and that almost made Stanley lose faith in his team. He rolled down the bulletproof driver side window and said "We're here to see the boss. Information regarding a Trevor Philips. Critical mission priority." As sceptical as that sounded, the man let them pass.
They must have hired him for intimidation purposes and not intellectual purposes. Stanley laughed at the thought. He drove the Cognoscenti further, to the empty green grass area and parked it. The three got out, flashing their sleek suits and cheap knockoff watches. The rolled in style, and they had never been more frightened in their entire lives. They were granted access to the main building. On the outside it looked like a worn down fishing shack, but once they were inside, they saw the sleek professional build for themselves. The building had organised sectors for different jobs – import receiving, product check and delivery. This was the kind of organisation Stanley could only dream of having. They walked straight down the shiny silver hall. At the end was a very contrasting room. With furry brown walls and red leather everywhere, Stanley was mesmerised by the organisation's ability to separate work and play. In this room was a tall man dressed in black. A black suit, black tie, black everything.
He was accompanied by two half naked women holding Machine Guns. He was the very definition of a badass. An overinflated, self-loving, arrogant piece of shit badass, and the very first sentence he said to them was "Stanley, Tyler and David, I welcome you. The three were shocked, in awe. "I suppose you've come here to kill me and ruin my supply line to Trevor, huh? Well, turns out I saw you coming from a mile away, and now I can conveniently dispose of a minor threat to my business. You can shoot yourselves now with the heat I'm sure that you are packing or wait for me to do you one by one with my wife, with my wife being my treasured engraved, gold plated heavy revolver." Stanley, who was desperate to get out of this situation, said "Hi. You must be Hans, the great boss of the Kalo-Wincher organisation. I believe we got off on the wrong foot. My name is-" Stanley was cut off shot by Hans shooting him right in the stomach.
"Now that would be very unwise of you to do" said Hans to David and Tyler, who both had their weapons pointed right at his head. Stanley lied in agony on the floor. They were only able to tuck in light armour beneath their outfits to ensure that they fitted in. This however resulted in the shot from the heavy revolver easily penetrating through all layers of Stanley, both the part of his body and those that are not. Hans continued "If you shoot me, the twenty men rushing in will gun you down in seconds." David gave a slight smile "worth it." Hans knew that look all too well, and so he ducked for cover behind his desk as David and Tyler opened fire. "You finish Hans! I'll take care of the rest" yelled David to Tyler. Hans wasn't lying. One by one, heavily armed men rushed in and David focused fire on them. His Micro SMG definitely wasn't as effective as a Combat MG but it did the trick. He couldn't hope to shoot them all so suppressing fire should be enough to provide cover for Stanley and time for Tyler. Back in the boss room, Tyler and his Machine Pistol stalked Hans to his desk.
Tyler, as an efficient assassin, popped the barrel of his Machine Pistol just over the desk and blindly fired all over. One of those twenty rounds must have hit Hans. Tyler reloaded and leaned over. Sure enough, Hans lied dead with three bullets in his body. Tyler couldn't take any chances and added another two. After Hans' execution, Tyler took cover beside his corpse and fired from cover. David, who had pulled Stanley with him back behind a wall in the office was reloading his Micro SMG. A barrage of gunfire came from the hallway. There was no way out except the way they came in. The three knew that they only had one option. Kill or be killed. David took out Stanley's signature Silenced Combat Pistol and handed it to him. "You alright?" he asked to which Stanley replied "I think Hans missed. It went in and out, didn't hit my stomach." David nodded and said "Can you fight?" "Oh yeah. I can fight" replied Stanley as he racked his Combat Pistol. Now all three were shooting. Three against twenty. Easy. Tyler shifted cover to the left wall while David took Tyler's spot. Three angles makes for a very one sided firefight. Stanley sat himself up and fired from cover, taking down two of them. Tyler did the same, spraying down three more while David proved himself to be the man Stanley claimed him to be by picking up Hans' Heavy Revolver, effectively giving him twice the firepower. He sprayed his Micro SMG all over before finishing off the rest with the Heavy Revolver. He was always the undisputed champion when it came to combat.
"You know, I think the red actually makes the hall more vibrant" commented David as he helped Stanley to the exit. Tyler followed, finishing off anyone who even remotely moved. As he caught up to them, he said "Hey, there's gonna be more of them waiting outside." David replied "that's what I'm hoping for." David put Stanley down beside the main door. He and Tyler took point. They heard gunfire coming from outside, but it wasn't aimed at their direction. "Ready?" asked David and Tyler nodded. David pushed open the door and the two took point. There were only a couple of Kalo-Wincher soldiers in the distance and even fewer shooting at them. Those were easy to take out, especially since they picked up the Assault Rifles used by the guards they killed. Now they knew the reason for the previous gunfire. Red and Blue lights surrounded Cape Catfish and the police were moving in. They must not have known about the drug importing going on or else they would have sent NOOSE. Additionally, no cop ever checks in here so somebody must have tipped them off. David detected all this and told Tyler who replied with a single name: "Trevor." "That bastard!" shouted Stanley from the corner. David went over to help him move and said "we should leave. Quick, before they come in any further. Let's sneak around back." They agreed and moved out.
David helped Stanley out the door then suddenly a man springs out from the cover he took by the outside wall and swings at David with a Machete. David, who was supporting Stanley only managed to avoid a couple of attacks. Tyler didn't have a clear shot. David dropped Stanley and proceeded to repeatedly punch the attacker. He broke his wrist and yanked the Machete away from him before finally lodging it in his throat. This was when David was shot twice in the back. He fell but stopped himself from hitting the ground. Stanley and Tyler both fired back. They cops had made it in. All of the Kalo- Wincher soldiers were either dead of captured. "Ty, you're gonna have to help him walk" said David as he lifted himself back up. "We go around the back of the building, try and sneak past the patrols. Now!" The three stuck to the plan, walking as fast as they could. Tyler went ahead first.
The three made their way around the building and took cover behind whatever they could find after they left the safety of the walls. Most of that cover was bushes, but they took it. "There" said Stanley as he pointed towards an empty police cruiser. "Hurry." The three snuck their way back onto the dirt trail and then the main road. It was just a matter of seconds before some cop notices. There were about eight or nine cop cars parked around Cape Catfish. Tyler lowered Stanley into the backseat while David took the passenger seat. "Tyler, you're gonna have to drive." Tyler replied "I know, man. I got this" as he started to reverse the car. Lucky for them the car was still on. They must have left in a hurry, but just as they thought that they were gonna make it out, an officer spotted them. "Hey!" he yelled as he opened fire.
Tyler spun the car around then hit the gas. He pushed the pedal down to the bottom and frantically tried to get them out of there as fast as possible. Unfortunately for them this was Blaine County and here there was only one road out. No doubt that there will be a few cop cars chasing them. Tyler stepped on it as Stanley readied his gun at the back window and David leaned out his.. Sure enough, there came police cruisers. Stanley and David both shot Assault Rifles at the incoming cars. David just couldn't bring himself to harm his own kind though and aimed for the tires, while Stanley did as much as he could to get the cops off their tail. He shot the driver in the arm, making him swerve off road. That car however was quickly followed by another. The Assault Rifle however proved to be a problem. The two quickly ran out of ammo since they didn't bother to pilfer extra magazines, forcing them to spend the remaining ammunition in the guns they brought. The Combat Pistol and Micro SMG just weren't enough, and they didn't last long. David managed to pop a tyre, making the second cop car crash into a lamppost. They burnt through their ammo in no time and were left to cower behind the seats.
David frantically searched for a weapon, and he got lucky. In the glove compartment was a Pistol and a few spare mags. He racked it and went back to shooting. Tyler, who was too focused on the driving, didn't even notice the Pump Shotgun sitting right beside him until they exited onto the highway. Tyler picked it up and tossed it back to Stanley. They had already taken out two cruisers chasing them and now with the shotgun, they can take down the last one. Stanley shot the passenger in the head and the driver in the chest. He and David watched as the driverless car rode straight into oncoming traffic. They didn't expect an explosion to follow, but it did. "I think that's the last of them!" shouted Stanley. Tyler cheered while David remained quiet. He only said "do you think they saw our faces?" Stanley stopped smiling and so did Tyler. "I don't know, Dave. I don't know." David suddenly shouted "Look out!" as Tyler drove off road. The following sudden crash jerked everyone forward. The vehicle was on fire now. Tyler, with blood dripping down his forehead said "The chopper. It got me. I'm sorry." And sure enough, there was a police chopper above them, circling them, waiting for the right moment to pounce.
"Get out of the car with your hands up!" The chopper's PA system blared loudly. The whirring of the rotors droned on endlessly. The front of David's suit was red with blood and so was Tyler's. The sniper shot he sustained was debilitating. It went straight in his midsection. "Oh fuck man, I'm not gonna make it. I didn't think it would end like this." Tyler tried to stop the bleeding but the blood poured out endlessly. Stanley was knocked unconscious in the backseat, also losing a lot of blood. Tyler opened the driver side door and fell out. David opened his and staggered his way over to Tyler. "Tyler, don't get up. Stay down. I'll handle this." David then went over to the backseat and pulled Stanley out and away from the burning car. Tyler watched helplessly as David walked out and put his hands up. Cop cars swarmed the three in less than a minute. There was no way out this time. David watched the Blaine County police and even NOOSE stop in front of them. The officer spread out and surrounded them while two went right up to David and beat him down.
Two more went for Tyler and three searched the car. They cuffed all three of them and just like that it was over. The cops walked David over to the van while dragging Tyler and Stanley. The three were dumped in the back of the police van with no medical attention whatsoever. The doors closed and it was pitch black. The ride back was quiet. Nobody wanted to speak, maybe it was too painful both physically and emotionally. They were being taken to the Sandy Shore police station since it was the closest. The ride was bumpy, not at all good for their wounds. Not one of them was unaffected by it. Each stone hit meant more blood-spill. By the time the Van stopped and the doors opened, it was dawn. The sunlight washed over the van, revealing the red floor, covered with so much blood that it was dripping out the back. Now both Stanley and Tyler were unconscious and David was doing his best to stay alive. The officer that opened the back said "Holy shit" and called for a medic. Finally.
Stanley woke up in a white room. Another hospital. Of course. Only this time, he wasn't considered as the victim. He looked over to his left and saw that he had been handcuffed to the bed. Brilliant. An IAA agent sat on a chair facing the bed. He smiled and said "hi. You must be Stanley Collins. I've looked at your file. It was surprisingly clean… until of course what you did half a week ago." Stanley thought to himself "Half a week? Fuck." He was too weak to talk, but the IAA man wasn't expecting him to. He was here to brag. "I see you have a wife, and that you two live at 1237 Prosperity Street in Del Perro. Only thing is, when I went by the house, nobody was there. And the really strange part? No family photos, books, or paintings. Nothing to prove that you ever lived there in the first place. The furniture was minimalistic, not in design, but overall it was lacking. All signs point toward an alternative property and an alternative job. And now for the final surprise. I found out where your wife is hiding. Hannah Collins, is that right? She's in a little building down by the outskirts of this town. It took me a long time to find her and I have no doubt that when I finally meet her, I'll also be able to find whatever you've been hiding."
The very thought of Stanley's business being exposed traumatised him. Fuck his injuries. Stanley used all his strength to sit up and say "Fuck. You." It was at this moment that a police officer entered the room and said "Agent Kane, I'm sorry but we can't keep him under custody anymore. Orders from up top. We just don't have enough evidence." The IAA agent stood up quickly and snapped back "evidence? What about the three wrecked cop cars and the piles of bodies they've left behind?" The officer only replied "I'm sorry sir, you're going to have to speak to those who are authorised to make that decision." Agent Kane cussed and walked out the door, pushing the officer out of the way. Stanley knew that his wife was in danger and even more so, his business. After the incident with Tyler, he had little to no security, and a raid by the police would truly finish him. Stanley knew what he had to do. He couldn't let Kane get to his wife before him, and so he placed his feet on the floor, using whatever's left of his energy to stand and walk to the door. He took out all of the tubes and needles in him and limped his way over. His revolver injury seemed to be stable. Stanley picked up a black coat left on a chair and left the room. It wasn't painful. Just tiresome, but with each step, Stanley gained more and more control of his body and soon, walking became the mindless activity we all take for granted today. Getting out of the hospital was easy. It was getting home that was slightly harder. He saw an Obey Tailgater in the parking lot and smashed open the window with a rock. This was his ticket home. Stanley got in and hotwired the car. The seats felt nice. He quite liked this car, and he couldn't say that a lot to the other cars he had stolen before. The car started and Stanley started to make his way out of the parking lot. He hit the throttle, knowing that he had to be the first one there. The drive didn't take long. His meth lab wasn't too far away.
Good. There was no one there, at least not yet. Stanley got out of the Tailgater and walked as quickly as he could over the door. "Hannah? Hannah, are you there?" he yelled. The voice that replied to him washed a wave of relief over him. "Yeah, what's going on?" Stanley sighed in relief, but that relief was short lived as another voice followed. "Stanley, that you?" Stanley quickly rushed over to the couch, flipped off the cushion and retrieved a Combat Pistol. A figure walked into the room and the relief came back. "Stan, hey!" said David Mannis. Hannah stepped into the room with him and said "This err… police officer came into the house. He said that he knew you as a friend." Stanley smiled and said "Yeah, Hannah. He is." David broke their little reunion by saying "Shit. It's the IAA. They must have followed you" as he peered out the window. Stanley swore as he realised the fact that the IAA agent used him in order to find his house. David said "Shit. It's fine though. Only one car. We can take them." Sure enough, it was only one car, but in that car was Agent Kane (if that was even his name), the police officer from the hospital and two heavily armoured IAA agents with Special Carbines.
Agent Kane walked casually up to the front door and knocked. "Hello Stanley. It seems as if you single handedly gave us your secret base. Come out in peace and I promise not to harm you… much." Stanley laughed. That was a horrible deal. He racked his Combat Pistol and David took out his Pistol .50, also racking it. "Hannah, you stay back." "No Stan, I think I got this" replied Hannah as she pulled out a SMG and aimed it right at the front door. "You two take the grunts. I got Mr Special Agent." Stanley and David looked at each other before going through with the plan. Hannah fired first, her SMG shredding Agent Kane apart while Stanley and David precisely took out both of the armoured agents. The police officer was cowering behind the trunk of the vehicle. "He's calling for backup! Finish him!" yelled Stanley and David was first to respond. He ran up the top of the car and shot down the officer from above. "That's it. Clear" he reported as he holstered his Pistol .50. Stanley sought answers. "So how did you get out?" David, with a grim look said "Why don't we discuss this inside? They went back into the house and David said "How do I explain this? The whole thing was an op." Stanley was confused "What do you mean?" "Well, from the moment I knocked on your door last week, I was part of an undercover police operation to gather intel on you and observe what you do. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but I'm still on your side. A double agent of sorts. That's why they released me. Are we good?" Stanley responded "Yeah. We're good. But what about Tyler? What happened to him? Is he okay?" David, with a grim face replied "I'm sorry, Stan."
Downtown, Los Santos
"It's a Christmas miracle!" laughed David as he left the FIB building. "It's official. I'm a detective!" Stanley smiled along. It would have been better if it weren't for the fact that the only reason David got the promotion was for finishing his undercover op and taking down a few competing IAA agents. "No longer do I have to wear this shitty as uniform, or drive this shitty as car!" said David. As the two walked back to David's Albany Washington, they saw a note on the front seat. Suspicious, David asked "I locked the doors, didn't I?" Stanley replied "I dunno. Maybe." Nonetheless, the two went to check it out. David opened the driver's side door and picked up the note. To his horror, underneath it was a photograph of his late wife. "Nora… What the fuck is this?" David went on to read the note. "Dear David Mannis, It is I. The one you have been hunting for over the period of two years. The one that cut up your dear Nora. Think of this as an early Christmas gift all wrapped up for you. Apartment Six, 0115 Bay City Avenue. I'll be waiting." David was in shock. The note can't be real. The killer would never show himself like this, not after the wild goose chase he led him on two years ago. Stanley inquired "Nora… that's your wife, right? I want to help in any way I can." David replied "No. This is something I have to do alone. He won't reveal himself unless it's just me. I'm the one he wants, and if I'm to ever have closure, then this is what I must do."
Stanley replied "Then let me be your backup. I'll take point outside the address. If you go alone, you're falling into his trap." David finally agreed and said "Okay then, we'll set off tomorrow. Damn bastard. Killing my wife was one thing, but now trying to finish the job on me? This guy better have a good reason for doing all this." As Stanley got into the car, he replied "Trust me. It's better if he doesn't." The two drove off to a bar to celebrate David's promotion, but the mood just wasn't quite the same. Something about having your wife's killer invite you to a house party just doesn't seem too joyful. "It's fucking Christmas Eve. Why out of all the days would this guy send me that on Christmas Eve?" Stanley thought it fitted quite well. He just didn't have the nerve to tell David.
"Merry Christmas, Stanley" said Hannah. "I don't think you slept at all last night. Must be really excited for Christmas, huh?" Stanley smiled and replied "It's a different kind of excitement. Listen, I'm really sorry I have to do this. But its work, okay. If I don't go, I could be putting people's lives at stake." Hannah understood "Yeah, I get it. Duty calls, right? I just didn't think that your new job would be asking so much of you. Is our um… business still gonna go on?" Stanley replied "What, the drugs? Yeah. We'll still be making them. Just at a slower rate. Bye Honey, I'll see you in a couple of hours. The damn boss better give me a massive bonus for doing this." "Okay, bye." Stanley got in his recently bought Obey Tailgater and drove off to pick up David. This was going to be a long day. Half an hour later, Stanley and David arrived outside of 0115 Bay City Avenue. It was an apartment all right. David walked in and looked around for Apartment Six while Stanley took cover by a tree outside. "This is it" said David as he stood in front of a seemingly unsuspicious door marked with the number six. "It could be rigged" commented Stanley through David's earpiece. David ignored the warning, racked his Pistol .50 and opened the door. Stanley did the same with his Silenced Sniper Rifle and aimed at the outside window of Apartment Six.
David walked in carefully and slowly. It was a dark room. All the curtains were closed and lights off. It had the unique stench of gasoline, but that didn't worry him. He was sure that the killer wouldn't make any stupid moves. He knew that the killer was watching him already, and if he stepped back out to tell Stanley to hold fire, he would surely be compromised. David called out "Show Yourself! I'm here aren't I? What about you?" There was a closed door leading to a small bathroom on his left, a small kitchen on his right and a tightly packed living area in front of him. David lowered his Pistol .50, knowing that any shot he makes could potentially set the room on fire. He didn't holster it however. He had to be ready. To the left of the living area was the single bedroom. That must be where he was, otherwise it was a trap, but if the killer wanted it, David would be dead already.
He was toying with him, and David knew it. He hated being toyed with, and so he rushed into the bedroom with his weapon ready. He broke down the door and to his surprise, on the bed was a woman, just sitting there calmly. She was wearing a fur coat and red lipstick, and was surrounded by bloody surgical tools. She smiled "Merry Christmas, David. You got me." David, however wasn't convinced. He pointed the Pistol .50 straight at her forehead. "Who killed my wife? WHO?" The lady took out a cigarette and a lighter. She knew about the gasoline. She was careful. "I did. What, don't you think a woman has the balls to kill?" David was losing his temper. "Look, woman, I am not a very patient man. You tell me what I want to know and I won't put a bullet through your skull." The woman calmly took a puff of her cigarette then went on to say. "Nora, that bitch. She was bothering me. That was all. I couldn't take it anymore. She was bossy at work and annoying in the neighbourhood. I did what I thought was right. And it was. She's' gone. And I have peace of mind. Oh how she bragged about her friends and husband. It was only fair." David was starting to believe the woman, as much as he didn't want to.
"You? You killed my Nora?" stammered David. The woman replied "What's not to believe? I kidnapped her as she was getting off work, drove her to a ditch, hacked her up and sent her home." Getting away was the easy part. The magical power of gloves and chloroform. So yeah. She died by my hand, and I do not regret it one bit." David sat down on an opposite chair, with his gun still raised "So who are you, and why do this on Christmas? The woman replied "I live two houses down from you, me and your wife went to work at the supermarket together. Sure she was the manager, but that only make it worse. I'm surprised you don't recognise me. Must be the makeup. I'm Carol Sunders. That 'slut' from high school. Well, this 'slut' killed your wife." She laughed. "Crap Cunt Carol, remember?" David's temper rose as Carol kept laughing. "You see, the special thing about Christmas is that everyone's at home, spending time with their family. Just like your friend outside. His family, his loving, caring wife, Han-" Carol's speech was cut short by David's Pistol .50 shooting a bullet right through her neck.
Carol choked as blood came gushing out. It wasn't David's bullet that would ignite the fire, it was the cigarette falling to the floor. David couldn't bother to catch it. He wanted her to burn. David ran out to warn Stanley. He ran out of the burning room and out the building, but Stanley was already gone, along with his car. Suddenly, Stanley's voice came through on his earpiece "I heard what she said. I'm driving back as fast as I can. I hope you don't mind if you catch a cab." David replied "its fine, man. Go save your lady." David lost his wife. He can't watch Stanley lose his as well, but the thing that trouble him just as much was the fact that one woman managed to do all this, cause so much pain, and for what? Revenge for getting annoyed? It was outrageous. How the hell did Carol even manage to set up all this, including the claimed attack on Stanley's wife? David waved for the first cab he saw. He saw that the driver was already taking a passenger. That's why he took his badge out and said "emergency police business. Take me to Dream Tower on Vespucci Boulevard as fast as you can." This was where Stanley moved in with his wife recently. They had to sell 1237 Prosperity Street due to suspicion by the IAA. The taxi driver drove fast, disobeying many traffic laws in fear for his life. The drive didn't take too long.
About five minutes. "Here's good" said David as he left the cab, throwing about twenty dollars at the driver. David rushed into the apartment with his gun ready and there was Stanley, looking just as confused as he was. Hannah was there. Safe. "What the fuck is going on, man?" asked Stanley. David, who was suspicious said "Well, we're all here. Everyone that posed a threat to Carol. Get out of the house. Both of you! Let's go. Now!" David's sudden realization was well timed. An explosion went off in the bedroom just as the three were exiting the apartment. They were a safe distance away now. The three watched helplessly as the subsequent explosives went off. "That was close" exclaimed Stanley. "No. That was convenient" said David just as he was shot in the shoulder by a sniper bullet. "Argh Fuck! Get to cover!" he yelled as he tried to crawl for cover. Stanley and Hannah both ran towards the closest building as sniper shots whizzed past them. David quick dialled 911 as he made his way behind a large potted plant. "When will it end?" he thought to himself.
Stanley handed Hannah a SNS Pistol as he took out the Sniper Rifle he was using earlier. "Stan, don't do it. Don't risk it." Stanley was a good shot. "Don't worry. I don't miss. Often." He crouched down by the edge of the wall and readied his rifle. The suppressor was going to reduce range. He took it off. The scope wasn't made for this situation. The magnification wasn't good enough, but Stanley was. He can make the shot. He knew it. "Cover me, Dave. I'm gonna try to take him out" said Stanley over David's earpiece. David acknowledged and readied his Pistol .50. "Now!" David started to blind fire at the approximate area of the sniper while Stanley leaned out and scoped in. There he was. Stanley put him right in the middle of his crosshairs and pulled the trigger. The sniper fell. He fell off the roof and down to the ground. 'A long fall' just didn't seem to quite cut it.
David sat up, with his back on the potted plant while Stanley moved forward towards the body. He was wearing a black combat vest over grey fatigues, but what really startled Stanley was the Merryweather emblem on his vest. That private military company has only recently been cleared to operate on US soil and they've already begun to undertake contract killings. "Fucking Merryweather" uttered Stanley and David replied "I should have known. Carol didn't have anyone to call for help but them. Although she does have a young kid. You know that husband filed for divorce due to her being a control freak? I wonder what happened to him." Stanley walked back to Hannah, while replying to David "she probably had him killed off as well." David agreed and said "You two go on. I got this" as the sirens came into hearing distance. "Thanks, Dave" said Stanley as he and his wife ran off to safety. Stanley cleaned the prints off his Sniper Rifle and dumped it in a dumpster before searching for a hotel on his IFruit Smartphone. "Come on Hannah, Dave's gonna be fine. Did I tell you he got promoted to detective? Hell, He's probably gonna be seen as a hero." Hannah replied "Yeah well, I kinda just want to get away from all this… violence. Here. Take your gun back." "No. You keep it. I think you'd do better with it than me. Besides, in the world, you're gonna need it."
Tyler woke up in cold sweat. Another nightmare, only this was not an ordinary nightmare. He was being chased by and endless horde of pitch black demons with claws as sharp as the needles Trevor injects himself with. Tyler's doctor came in. "I'm sorry Tyler, but the damage your face sustained in the car crash was substantial. The nose, jaw and cheekbones, not to mention the gashed forehead can't be properly repaired without some facial rearrangement. Tyler replied "You mean plastic surgery?" The doctor said "Something like that. You will look different, but we don't know to how much of a degree. Is there anything you have in mind? A specific face that you want us to try to follow? Tyler smiled as well as he could and he said through his broken teeth "Yes. Yes there is.""Matthew Blake, you say?" "Yeah, and I don't want a resemblance. I want matching detail. I want to be Matthew Blake." "That would be identity theft. I… I can't." "How much?" "What?" "How much is your price? Everybody has a price, Dr Das. You name whatever amount. I can pay it." "Well, such a significant operation like this would require much medical expenses and the skill requi-" "Just say a number, Dr Das. I will pay it." "Twenty Thousand." "Done. Pleasure doing business with you, Dr Das." "Yes… you too, Tyler." "Erm. May I ask what you intend to use this identity for?" "Well, I'm gonna make him a cop, the best damn cop in the LSPD. Then I'm gonna partner up with an old friend.
January 2008, Strawberry Avenue, Downtown Los Santos
"Your coffee's getting cold" uttered Stanley. Across from him sat a recovering David. The two were both dressed in black winter coats. Stanley had a cap on while David had a fedora. "It's hard to focus on coffee after spending New Years in the hospital" replied David. "You know, I spend my birthday in the hospital once. Coffee only tasted better afterwards for me." "Well that's you." The two have been sitting inside the Bean Machine coffee shop talking for five minutes. David said "You are aware that this will be our last meeting for several months, possibly years, right? We have to let the heat cool off. My precinct has already been kind enough to oversee some of your activities. You can receive no more protection from me, or the police force if you continue to operate outside your boundaries."
Stanley laughed a tiny bit before reverting to a slight smile "Come on Dave, lighten up. I know its protocol but can't you just be a bit more casual about this? This is probably the last coffee we'll have like this for a damn long time. Think of it like this – it was fun killing people together, so why don't you remember the good times?" David exhaled and replied "I try, okay? But this is not the time for fun and games. I don't want to put it this way, but I'm warning you both as a cop and a friend that you need to stay low and off our radar or else what happens to you is out of my control." "You've made that pretty clear already, Dave. But I can't do that. I'm sorry. Without my business, I and my wife will be living the lives of homeless addicts. I had a good thing going and I still do now. We'll remain operating in Sandy Shores." David looked stern, serious. A look Stanley only saw when David was staring into the eyes of an enemy. "Fine. Have it your way."
Stanley looked at his watch. It was half past three. "Damn, where the bloody fuck is that guy? You said he'd be here fifteen minutes ago." "I said he would be here around three-fifteen. Not exactly three-fifteen. It was his word anyway. He's always late for these things." "What, you have goodbye meetings often?" "No, meetings in general. Just shut up and act nice." Stanley looked up at David "Anyway, how's the daughter?" David stared at his full cup of coffee and replied "Ashley's fine. There's nothing to talk about." "How old is she n- " It was at this moment that a black haired lady walked through the doors of the coffee shop and turned her head towards the two. She wore black-rimmed glasses and wore a red shirt covered by a grey coat. In her hand was a briefcase which she placed on the table between Stanley and David. "You said she was a guy" whispered Stanley. The woman stayed silent, which was unusual since they usually react to Stanley's un-silent comments. She looked at Stanley for a second before opening the briefcase to reveal many wads of cash.
Stanley stared into the briefcases for a great deal of seconds before tilting his head back up to face David. "You also said that this was a police contract closure." David sighed and replied "this was supposed to be your retirement fund." "A parting gift." "I suppose you can see it as that." "Well, I thank you for it, even though it's not actually that much. It was only after their brief moment of monetary discussion that they realised that the woman who delivered the cash had not only already left the building, but was speeding away in her car. Naturally, as a detective, David turned the briefcase over to face him and fumbled through the cash. "I never expected a damn cliché" he said before he smashed the briefcase right out the window.
Stanley stood up immediately and yelled "what the fuck?" along with the coffee shop owner. This was when the briefcase exploded in a great ball of fire, smashing the remaining windows and collapsing the outside wall. The two were knocked down to the floor. Without needing time for recovery, David immediately said "we have to get out of here." "You don't have to tell me twice" replied Stanley as he dusted himself off. "I knew that my contact wasn't late. He was murdered. Replaced" uttered David as he and Stanley walked quickly out of the coffee shop. David took out his cell phone and made a call. "Hey Matt, it's me. I need a private extraction over by Legion Square. Think of it as a training exercise. Only it's not." "Who's Matt, your butt buddy?" "He's a rookie cop. They made it my duty to show him the ropes. He's not doing too badly right now. Not bad at all." "Hey, as long as he doesn't crash us into a streetlight, I'm fine with him." They hurried out of the dust and debris and out into the road. "Hey Dave, I think your friend might be a tad too late" said a worried Stanley as five black IAA SUVs pulled up. "The IAA. Of course." David was now visibly displeased. Tactical combat units got out of the SUVs and took their positions surrounding the two. They had their weapons raised. "This just shows what I have to deal with everyday working for the FIB." "This doesn't seem like your everyday job, although it's starting to get more and more attainable." The two put their hands up and the IAA agents closed in.
Just as the IAA agents were about to handcuff them, more vehicles pulled up from behind the SUVs. These were not IAA cars. They were quite the opposite. David said to the IAA agent in front of him. "You gonna arrest me? You can tell that to my boss. To his face." Kyle Lochstein, the regional FIB director stepped out of the middle vehicle from behind the IAA SUVs. He was followed by over twenty agents, who all had their weapons pointed at the opposing agency. "This is my man. You arrest him, you'd be arresting me" said Kyle as he walked towards David.
He put his hand on the IAA agent with the handcuffs and said "face me, son." The IAA agent looked at Kyle only a split second before he was given a fistful of knuckle duster. The IAA agents raised their weapons but didn't dare to shoot due to the FIB's guns pointed at their heads. Kyle walked up towards David. He was a relatively tall man. In really good shape for his fifties. He wore a yellow sports jacket and running trousers. "They pulled me out of the fun run for this. But you're my best agent, and I can't afford losing you to the IAA. Those bastards. He turned to face Stanley. "Stan. I've heard so much about you. Allow me to properly introduce myself. I am Kyle Lochstein, regional director of the Los Santos FIB division. "You've done some fine things for us in the past, and I hope you continue your anti IAA stance in the future." Stanley nodded sharply "Yes, sir." Kyle smiled "Good. Now let's get rid of these IAA scum" as he pulled out his Vintage Pistol and shot the IAA handcuff agent in the head. The rest of the IAA agents started to shoot but were abruptly stopped by the large amount of bullets being shot into the by the FIB agents behind them.
Surviving IAA agents took cover behind cars as the FIB tactical team hunted them. It was at that moment that Matt and his LSPD cruiser pulled up to the scene. "I thought we bought the fuzz off already" said Kyle as he raised his Vintage Pistol. "No!" shouted David "he's with me." Kyle lowered the gun "my apologies." Matt pulled up and David said to Kyle "sorry, but this is my ride. I need to get going." "I see" said Kyle as he turned back towards his FIB agents and gestured them to wrap it up and move out. David got in the passenger seat of the cruiser and Stanley followed. David stopped him "sorry Stan, but this is where we part ways." He closed the door and told Matt to step on it. Stanley was left behind feeling betrayed. He raised his arms in a "what the fuck?" gesture before going back to the sidewalk to call his mechanic. Back in the cruiser, David spotted a young man in handcuffs in the backseat. Hey Matt, who's the perp?" he asked. Matt replied "some kid I caught robbing a liquor store. Would you believe it took us five cars to take him down? Damn guy's a stage three." "Three star perp, huh?" David turned around and asked "Hey kid, what's your name?" The man in the backseat replied "Tyler" as he held up his open handcuffs and opened the car door.
"He's loose! He's fucking loose! Stop the car!" David Mannis opened the passenger door as soon as Matt pulled the car to a screeching stop. David swiftly took out his Pistol and ran after the fleeing criminal. "Stop or I will shoot!" Words that had no effect on the determined target. The criminal ran into Legion Square, taking cover behind the cascade of yellow and grey shapes. Red cubes protected his back while a rectangular tower shadowed him from fire. This was his playground and David was in his territory. "I need backup. Legion Square. Escaped felon is fleeing." David maintained his composure and went further into the land of a child's colouring book. "So this is what we call art now. No wonder this city's gone to shit." He moved forward, under a grey bridge, unaware of the criminal behind him. "Hey officer" said the calm criminal as he stepped behind David who immediately turned back only to get struck in the face with a police nightstick. "Hope you don't mind. I swiped this from your car when I unlocked my cuffs with the keys I took off of your little buddy there. I hope Matt isn't struggling too hard with his belt cuffed to the car."
David, who had already recovered from the attack responded only with his Pistol. The man however hit it away as quickly as David aimed it at him. The man then continued to greet David with the nightstick, quick hits from left and right, leaving David unable to gather his bearings. After a few more strikes, the man stopped to taunt him. "What's that saying again? A taste of your own medi-" He was interrupted by David's fist in his face. The sound of bone striking bone was music to his ears. The crack of the hit, the blood, the numbness that followed only fuelled his rage. The man was quick though, bobbing and weaving over David's attacks. This only made David madder. He charged at the man, who narrowly dodged it, sending David crashing into a grey block. Blood ran from his nose and his lip was cut. To his surprise, the man dropped the nightstick on the ground. "This was fun, Detective, but I'm afraid I have to be leaving" he said before he turned his back and went running diagonally across the square. Seconds later, the red and blue showed up. On time as usual. David picked up the nightstick and walked out of Legion Square.
Matt pulled up outside but just as he was about to exit the vehicle, he was caught on something. The handcuffs. Holding his belt down. The criminal was good. Real good. "Put out an APB on that guy" said David as he walked his way back to the vehicle. He was glad that the guy had cuffed Matt in his place. He didn't want anyone trying to help him. "By the way, he cuffed you to the car. Just get back in and drive. We'll sort it out later.
David leaned over the data officer's shoulder. "So, who is this guy?" The officer clicked open the file and replied "Rye Anderson, records show that he's a small time felon. Robbed many convenience stores over the past three years. And that's only the ones that we know of." David read over the data on the computer. "He said that his name was Tyler back in the car. Alias?" "Possible, although there's no hard evidence. This guy's interesting. It's gonna take a bit more digging for us to find out more about him." David looked grim but tried to keep a relatively light mood. "Well, we know one thing for certain. Kid's got moves. He can more that handle himself." The officer joked back "that, or your age is starting to catch up to you." David forced out a slight smile. "What's your name anyway?" "Detective Morgan. Mia Morgan." David let off a slightly bigger smile "that's not gonna be hard to remember. Good seeing you, detective. Let me know if anything comes up." David left the office and went over to the exit. On the way out, one of the other officers commented "hey, Mannis, you spend about as much time here as you do with your daughter. Field work still appealing to you veterans of the force?"
David stopped right before the door. "Listen rookie, out there, I work to keep my daughter safe. And I'm still fifteen years from retirement age so you'll be seeing a lot more of me in these streets. Chances are, I'll be working here long after you eventually quit." The office kept quiet as David continued to his Obey Tailgater. Matt was waiting outside. "I like how you handled that." "Wasn't exactly defusing the situation." Matt was eager to continue training with David. "So, despite all the IAA crap, how 'bout we go for another one of those drug busts or maybe a crackdown on some arms dealers?" David sighed. "Look, Matt. You're a good cop. One of the best I've seen in years. Over the past couple weeks, you've shown that you are more than capable of doing this by yourself. I've already recommended you for immediate promotion and I'm sure that they'll agree, but for now, I'm off duty and I need to get some rest and maybe some family time." Matt nodded. "Yeah man, I get it. But protocol says that I can't even go on patrol without a higher ranking officer or detective like you." "I know. Fucked up rules here in Los Santos, but looks like you'll have to take the desk job for the day. That, or talk to the suits on level five. I need my alone time. Thanks for understanding" David opened the car door and started the engine. Matt continued to look at him as he drove off.
Sandy Shores, Blaine County
The familiar sand covered walls of the crumbling structure reminded Stanley of all the shit that happened over the past few months. He mumbled quietly to himself "we're gonna need some renovations" as he stepped towards his meth lab/ home. He knocked on the door and said "Hannah, it's me. I'm back from 'coffee with David'". The door opened and behind it stood his lovely wife. "Hey, hon. looks like we won't be seeing much cops for the next year." Hannah, curious, replied "does that imply that you struck a deal with them or killed them all? 'cus you tend to do the latter quite often." Stanley grinned "let's just say that no bullets were fired. That I know of." Hannah smiled with uncertainty "that's not exactly reassuring." Stanley made a surrendering gesture "alright alright. I took a deal with the FIB. They gave me money in exchange for me not committing any major crimes for at least a year. Hannah asked "how much money?" Stanley reluctantly pulled out the burnt wads out of his pockets "this is all I could salvage from the explosion" Hannah scoffed but then laughed. "Of course. I was a fool to think that this could have ended peacefully." "Hey, it wasn't the cops though. Well, it kinda was. The IAA tried to bomb me due to my 'helpful' connections with the FIB." Stanley's wife looked at him for two seconds before turning around and walking to the kitchen.
He heard her say "life after marrying a drug dealer." "Drug producer!" corrected Stanley. He walked over to the lounge coffee table to count his money. Halfway through, his new head of security, Carl Walker came up to him and reported "It's good to see you back, sir. The production lab has been restored to full functionality and effectiveness. Staff are working well-" "They better be for their pay" interrupted Stanley. "Go on." "The extra security you hired have been reporting sightings of a few meth heads scouting the place. Might be Trevor's." Stanley nodded. "Okay, we'll deal with him later. What else?" "Reports from the lab show that Methamphetamine production is at optimal rates. Profits will see a slight increase from last quarter. The armoury is being stocked with the latest weapon imports. There is a crate of Chinese military Bullpup Rifles arriving today. The latest model. The same ones used by the People's Liberation Army in China. I wouldn't fall for that 'made in China make and break' crap. These rifles are of the highest quality." Stanley nodded again. "Excellent. There is just one more thing I would like to arrange soon." "And what might that be, sir?" "It's regarding my wife. I fear for her safety here. There's a war coming. I can feel it. The IAA won't stop coming after me and the first thing they'll try to take advantage of is Hannah. I need you to arrange an undisclosed flight for her. Transport by armoured Valkyrie helicopter to an island off the coast of Paleto Bay. Tonight."
The IAA came for her just as Stanley predicted. His wife. Only they never caught her. By then she was on her way off to the other side of the Alamo Sea. It wasn't easy. "Hannah, we're going on a little helicopter ride, okay? I need you to come with me over to one of my storage facilities. There's a couple items I need to retrieve and a few things I need your opinion on." Stanley never did come with Hannah. Closing the Valkyrie's door on her proved very difficult indeed. But it was necessary. As she pounded on the glass and metal from the inside, Stanley stepped backwards, saying "I'm sorry, but it's for your own safety", words lost in the spinning blades and roaring engine. Stanley stayed until the chopper was out of site. He had sent away his own wife. He had to do it. The IAA were ruthless. They played dirty, so why shouldn't Stanley? He got back into his Obey Tailgater and drove off back home, leaving behind the dust of Sandy Shores Airfield where the Valkyrie took off. Stanley had hired the best bodyguards he could find to protect her during her time on the island, but even then they weren't entirely trustworthy, but Stanley couldn't hope for any better. The drive back was short but to him, it seemed like an eternity. This was only the start. He would have to make more precautions, sacrifices. The dire chokehold the IAA has him in is only the beginning of his problems.
Trevor and his growing drug empire were starting to eliminate the competition. Small time drug dealers and organisations were either getting wiped out or merged with the vastly growing empire under the direction of the most volatile man in Sandy Shores. He would have to wait. The IAA is on Stanley's doorstep and inviting them in is not an option. He needs to scold them from above. Strike them from behind. Yeah. "That's what I need to do" he thought to himself as he arrived at his lab. It may have been only missing one person out of the thirty employees and guards but the building had never felt more emptier or as silent as before. Stanley went straight to the bedroom. He needed rest but he knew that he wouldn't get any. He just lied in bed, thinking of a way out. How to dig out of the hole he had put himself in, or rather the hole that the FIB kicked him in. It may not be official, but Stanley Collins was one of the IAAs biggest targets in San Andreas. He closed his eyes and before him he saw his wife and behind her was a police officer, slashing her throat.
Stanley woke up in cold sweat. Another nightmare. This wasn't uncommon, not anymore. Sleep was a joke. He barely got any and when he did, the images that crossed him mind haunted his day. Hannah would be settling in at the island by now, or at least he hoped she did. At least the IAA didn't launch a raid on his meth lab during his sleep. At least not one that he knew of. Stanley, still dressed his standard white, buttoned shirt and black trousers stood up out of bed. The emptiness was something he was unfamiliar with. Stanley walked over to the door and unlocked it. He needed groceries. Actual groceries. Not that shit the bodyguards give to him. He knew that leaving the lab would be a risk but at the time, Meteorite bars and Egochasers seemed like a worthy risk. It justified it enough. "Jacobs, Harrison, with me. I need to get some chocolate and I need you just in case the IAA decide to raid my ass while in a convenience store. We'll take the Tailgater." The two guards followed Stanley and accompanied him to the local convenience store. "Quiet so far, sir. Nothing out of the ordinary" commented one of the guards as the three walked into the shop. They weren't the least bit inconspicuous, pulling up in an all-black car with tinted windows.
A man followed by two tough looking thugs dressed in a two piece suit. All three of them wore sunglasses. Obviously. The convenience store clerk looked just a tad bit nervous. "Err. How may I help you gentlemen?" He was an old Asian man, looked as though he was in his early sixties. "Hi. I would like all of your chocolate bars please" said Stanley. The clerk's nervousness meter started to shoot up as he fumbled through the cardboard candy trays counting the bars and prices. "Please sir, excuse me for the delay. I don't usually get an order like this." "I understand. Take your time." Despite Stanley's reassurance, the clerk didn't seem any less stressed. He, being Asian was naturally good at maths and had the prices figured out in a relatively low quantity of time. Price of a single Egochaser multiplied by how much he had in stock. The same for the meteorite bars. "Okay sir, that comes to forty-nine ninety-n" The shopkeeper stopped. He peered over behind Stanley's shoulder. "Are they with you?" This immediately alerted him and rightfully so. Two IAA SUVs have pulled up outside, their tactical team ready to go, followed by a hovering police Maverick helicopter with snipers perched over the sides. "Well shit." Stanley turned back to face the clerk "could you put that aside for me, like in a bag or something. I think I'll have to come back to collect it later. Here's the cash. Keep the change." Stanley handed over a fifty dollar note. Not much for change, but that didn't seem to affect the cashier's mood. "Okay boys, dig in 'cus we're about to have a tangle. With guns.
The three moved into the back of the convenience store, the storeroom/ computer porn room. They took cover on different corners and heard the IAA PA system come on. "We know you're in there. You are surrounded. Come out with your hands up or we will use force to bring you out." "Go fuck yourselves! And your pony fetishes!" yelled Stanley. "The latter then" echoed the PA. Two tactical units of four men moved into the store. Armed with SMGs and Carbine Rifles, they were a force to be reckoned with. Stanley and his guards prepared for combat. They heard no more from the store clerk. Only a whack and a thud. First in was a grenade. Of course. The IAA was never known for their renowned stealth tactics. The explosion stunned Harrison but Stanley and Jacobs maintained their stance. Tactical troops poured in and then the bullets started flying. Stanley's Combat Pistol wasn't too effective against the armoured men. The fact that they had heavy duty helmets on only made it worse. Harrison regained his bearings and started popping off shots from his Pistol .50 while Jacobs blind fired from cover with his Machine Pistol.
A bullet made its way in and out of Stanley's arm while two of its friends found Harrison's brain. Stanley continued firing until he was hit in the leg, then the other thigh. Jacobs found his automatic pistol chewing through ammo faster than Stanley and his chocolate bars. Before long, his Machine Pistol clicked empty and he was helpless when a tactical agent walked beside his cover, firing a burst of lead into his chest. Overall, they managed to take out a total of five agents. There were three more waiting outside followed by two SUVs and a chopper. "Fuck me and my chocolate cravings" said Stanley to himself just before the IAA agents slammed him down to the ground and handcuffed him. This time, there was no FIB to save him. He was going to be taken to an IAA black site, AKA torture site. All because of some chocolate. He was right to send Hannah off. This certainly was too much for them to handle. Stanley stared at one of the IAA agents in the face and said "Hey Roland, call David. The IAA agent responded by saying "who the fuck is Roland and also, you're not getting any help from your FIB buddy today." Little did he know that Stanley had just voice activated his phone and initiated a call to David Mannis. One of the perks of being a drug manufacturer was that you could afford all the latest smartphones and gear, even the ones not release to the general public. The iFruit company even said to him that they'll wait four years until after the technology's developed to actually sell it to the public. Stanley was reminded of this was the IAA agents pulled him away and out the convenience store. On the way out, he say the unconscious clerk. The last thing he saw before having a sack put over his head. Maybe just maybe, David Mannis will pick up and save him from certain doom (or torture).
Stanley could have sworn that he was in Somalia. With his head bagged and his captors driving him miles out into the sandy, poverty stricken wasteland. He also smelled chicken, but that wasn't what concerned him. It might have been the ten heavily armed guards transporting him to an undisclosed torture site. His phone vibrated, and Roland the personal assistant came online. "Hello there, Stanley, you have insufficient funds to proceed with the mobile call." "Oh shit" uttered Stanley as the two guards sitting opposite him tackled him off of his seat and down to the metal floor. "Who the fuck is that, your boyfriend?" questioned one of the guards. Stanley sighed and replied "digital assistant." "Yeah, call it what you want but that doesn't change the fact that you're a fag fucker." "Great. Spread the rumour why don't you? What about my wife, huh? The one you guys tried to kidnap?" "Yeah. The one we never found." Stanley gave up the dispute. It was a pointless conversation anyway. "Whatever." The agents took out Stanley's phone and saw the program. "Virtual boyfriend, huh? Desperate or just hopeless?" the agent laughed. "What the fuck will it take to shut you up?" asked an increasingly stressed Stanley. If the torture didn't kill him, this will. "I should have known that the torture had already started." The agents continued to laugh and make homosexual jokes and homophobic comments before the SUV finally pulled to a stop. "I can't take it anymore. Kill me now" commented a tired, bloody and kinda pissed off Stanley. They did a rough treatment of his wounds but that didn't make them any less susceptible to infection. They pulled Stanley out of the SUV and dragged him into a building. By the time they took his sack off, Stanley only knew that they were in some part of the desert. Quite a broad search area.
The building was in fact a small shack. There must be hundreds of these across the desert. But this shack was special. One of the agents pulled a lever and the floor beneath them started to move downwards. This really was some fancy as shit only the IAA would be too egotistical to set up. "A bit overkill, isn't it?" commented Stanley. The only reply he got was from an Austrian, who punched him in the stomach. His name was Vom Feuer. And his cold steel fist and forged metal sleeve packed quite the punch. "Eat Carbine Rifle, shithead!" taunted the person who wielded him. They travelled further down. A disconcertingly long way down. The kind of torture they do down here must be so illegal that they had to dig a mine shaft all the way down to China to evade legal consequences, but the IAA doesn't give two shits if its legal or not so the elevator just confused him but it also made him hope even more that David got whatever message he may have sent and traced the location of the call.
One Hour Ago, David Mannis received a call from the last person he wanted to see showing upon caller ID. As soon as he heard the sounds of the struggle through the speaker, he knew not to make a sound. David started to trace the call almost immediately. He actually prepared for this exact situation despite how much he hoped that it would never happen. As he zeroed in on the location, he gave a call to the police department, in particular, Kyle Lochstein. He may be a bit eccentric but David knew that he could count on him. "Hello David! What may I do for you on this fine day?" said Kyle through the earpiece. David replied "It's Stanley. I believe the IAA have him and are taking him somewhere. Maybe a black site. It's what those bastards would do. I've got a lock on his cell and I'm triangulating on his position as we speak." "Well keep that lock on for as long as possible. If we wait until they reach their destination, we can eviscerate two birds with one javelin." David ignored Kyle's metaphor and updated "Uh, sir. The signal just went dark. They must have found the phone."
"Well fuck me in in the neck-hole! I'll send a unit to his last know position and maybe we can follow the trail." "Okay, sir but I don't think I'll be able to stick around for this one. You know with the heat and stuff. The heat between me and the IAA, not that desert shit which is equally unpleasant." "I understand, David. You get your rest. I'll take down those IAA dickshits myself." Kyle hung up and checked his phone for the coordinates. He took them down then yelled out to the FIB station "Hey, who wants to kill some IAA faggots? Gear up! We leave in five." They only took two. The very prospect of murdering the shit out of the rival agency was enough to make even the most rookie FIB agent change their undergarments. That and a bigger pay check. "Let's go, gentlemen! Double time!" yelled Kyle as he led two squads of four tactical agents into two FIB Frogger Helicopters. The snipers were armed with Marksmen Rifles. They set off for the desert. Kyle yelled into his radio "see if you can't pull up a satellite image of these co-ordinates!" He told the agents the last known position of Stanley and waited for an answer. "You're in luck, sir. We see two black SUVs and a chopper moving northeast." "Excellent. Track them and update me. I'm gonna go fish me some agency asswipes."
The Maverick's speed was no match for the Frogger's. The IAA agents weren't even in that much of a hurry unlike the FIB. Kyle's kill squad quickly caught up to them. "See that IAA chopper? I want you to shoot the living crap out of it!" "Sir, they're stopping" reported one of the agents. They indeed were. The two SUVs pulled up in front of an abandoned shack and pushed a hooded man inside. "That's our man. Ensure his safety!" yelled Kyle "Now shoot the fucking blood vessels out of that damn chopper!" The agents didn't hesitate. The marksmen opened fire on the Maverick, filling it with high calibre bullets penetrating its light armour. The men inside didn't even last five seconds. "Waste those fuckers! Yeah!" cheered Kyle as he pulled out his Vintage Pistol and fired with them. "This peashooter can't kill shit. Any of you's got a bazooka?"
One of the agents pointed to a Homing Launcher behind him. "Thank you, mama!" shouted Kyle as he licked his lips and picked up the launcher. With one arm holding onto the interior bar and the other holding the bazooka, Kyle leant out of the chopper and aimed at the smoking Maverick. "This ought to put you out of your misery!" he said as he locked on to it and fired. The missile guided its way towards the helpless chopper and obliterated it in a tasty fireball. The chopper's remains fell down and cracked its tail onto the roof of the shack before crushing one of the SUVs. "Woo! Yeah! That's what I'm talking about! Rope down and penetrate these dickfags!" commanded Kyle. It was as if he just had five energy drinks and a whole tray of energy bars for lunch. Which he did. They roped down just as the IAA agents from the remaining SUV started to fire back. Their Carbine Rifles were no match for the penetrating Marksman Rifles of the FIB. The high calibre rounds shot through them like paper. Not even the car doors could protect them from the fiery hot lead from hell above. As the agents roped down, they switched to their secondary weapons which ranged from SMGs to Combat Machine Guns.
As soon as Kyle landed, he saw something he liked. "Hey soldier, gimme your gun." The agent did as he was asked and soon, Kyle was running at full speed firing a Combat MG. His sprint was only stopped by the legion of IAA helicopters in the distance. The sky would soon turn black with them. Kyle stood still with his eyes fixed on the choppers on the horizon. He lifted up his radio and said "Send the rest of the tactical squad. No. The combat squad. No send them both. Fuck it send everyone!" The FIB staff did as they were told but backup wouldn't be there for a good while. "Guys, dig in. This is war now. I want snipers on the roof of that shack and our choppers facing those IAA fucks horizontally. I want a goddamn firing squad!" Kyle continued to yell orders as the IAA horde lurched closer. Now they could make out the SUVs, Armoured Transports and Insurgents on the sand. "Oh this is gonna be fun" uttered Kyle as he mounted his Combat MG on a concrete roadblock and took aim. "This is gonna be so much fun."
"The Buzzards have arrived" uttered a distraught and slightly scared Kyle. Four Buzzards flanked by ten Mavericks invaded the airspace. The bullets started flying. The FIB marksmen fired their rifles while the IAA choppers wreaked havoc from above. The Buzzard's miniguns tore through any and all FIB agents unlucky enough to be in their line of sight, which was unfortunately all of them. A few well-placed shots from FIB Marksmen Rifles proved to be at least somewhat effective, taking down two of the buzzards and several Froggers. This wasn't enough however. The bombardment of miniguns and missiles quickly wiped out the majority of the defending force. Dying FIB agents crawled for cover behind the dead bodies of their fellow squadmates. Those who we well enough to still walk followed Kyle in an attempt to ram down the door to the shack. The FIB choppers exploded into pieces and crashed down to the earth under a hail of bullets and rockets. Kyle and the about-to-be-dead FIB crew continued to try to kick down the door. "Any of you's got a sticky bomb or a grenade or somethin'? 'Cuz if this door doesn't die, we do!" An FIB agent ran up to the door with a sticky bomb and placed it right in the middle. He was however too late because by the time the charge was set, the IAA Buzzards had flanked them and opened fire. The miniguns shredded the FIB agent just before he could detonate the bomb, then they tore open the rest of the FIB forces present. All of them. As the burst ended and Kyle fell to his knees, hope appeared in the distance.
This 'hope' came in the form of a dozen FIB Nagasaki Buzzard Attack Helicopters, ten FIB Granger SUVs loaded with combat ready agents and an Insurgent Pick Up. Fully loaded with ammunition and the dire hate of the IAA. The Buzzards locked on to each other from afar and unleashed all their missiles at the opposing force. The sky was painted red with fire and blood. Explosions cascaded as they traded kills and deaths alike. Luckily the desert emptiness proved to be an ideal location since having this battle in the town of Sandy Shores would net just as much casualties on ground. Desert sand was sprayed across the battlefield as choppers crashed into the golden ground. Eventually, the FIB overwhelmed them and took air superiority. For now. The IAA didn't come unprepared as their SUVs pulled up behind rocks and agents poured out of them with Homing Launchers, locking onto the FIB choppers. Many of the Buzzards tried to pull away. Few survived. The IAA agents laid waste to the helicopters. With the advantage of hiding behind rocks and buildings, they took out the FIB choppers one by one. They lucky Buzzards that made it managed to land relatively safely on the desert sand and deployed all their troops to fight the war on foot as they knew that neither force could now conquer the sky.
The FIB Grangers arrived promptly, but unfortunately not quick enough to save the lives of the men downed in the choppers. The local commanding officer, Scott Dread, opened the passenger door of the Insurgent and issued the order to secure the shack by wiping out all of the IAA ground forces. Scott was bald but he hid it with a military cap. His tactical sunglasses and combat vest made him look very original. Taking out his modified Advanced Rifle, Scott advanced on the shack while the turret gunner of the Insurgent provided cover fire. He saw Kyle Lochstein on the ground, covered in blood and sand. As he walked closer, he saw the multiple holes in his body and his lack of a right arm. If he stood him up, he could probably see from one side of him and out the other. In twelve different locations. Kyle lied still on the red sand. He was very dead. "Kyle's down" said Scott into his radio. He looked at the door of the shack and saw the sticky bomb. "We got a charge on the shack door here, undetonated. That's our way in to rescue target, Stanley Collins. I'll search for the detonator."
Gunfire went on in the distance as Scott turned over and patted down the bodies of fallen FIB agents. He found it on the second body. It was drenched in blood but it should still work. "The IAAs retreating!" yelled one of the FIB agents. "They'll be back" replied Scott as he detonated the sticky bomb. The explosion blew apart the door and allowed Scott to move in. There were two IAA guards in there but the deadly combination of being stunned by an explosion and being shot repeatedly by Scott Dread's Advanced Rifle made it hard for them to hinder the FIB's advancement into the black site. Scott looked over the banister to where the elevator was supposed to be. "Smart" he uttered "I want four fast ropes and two portable covers here" he ordered. The FIB agents deployed the equipment and got ready for the raid. "Hook up" said Scott as he latched himself onto the rope, which itself was latched onto the metal banister. "They'll be expecting us so I want Flashbangs, Smoke grenades and Riot Shields to go first." Scott started to rope down. The dark descent was made easier with the help of a flashlight. The same flashlight he used to bash terrorists skulls in back when he was in the military. "Move, men! Move!" he yelled as they progressed their way down the shaft. They saw light down below. That must be the exit to the black site. "Flash in then have shields take point. Set up the covers along the base roof of the elevator. Blow the rock obscuring us."
The agents followed Scott's orders. They threw in Flashbangs which bought them time to set up the portable covers behind the protection of the Riot Shields. They planted Sticky Bombs on the rock above the elevator and blew it to provide adequate room to fire. They lied prone on top of the elevator and as the smoke cleared, Scott saw that his prediction was wrong. The hallway out in front was as empty as the Grand Senora Desert. It was at this moment that the elevator they've all been standing upon spurred to life and started the ascent back up. Scott, being the quick minded figure that he is, made a run for the gap and slid down into the hallway. He yelled out behind him "cut the cables and regroup ASAP!" But for now, Scott was alone.
Holding his Advanced Rifle with relative tension, Scott advanced through the CIA black site. Like its name, the site itself was also very dark. He saw ceiling lights which were turned off. They knew that he'd be coming, or at least the FIB. Scott took cover behind a desk as soon as he heard footsteps. Down the hall came four IAA agents dressed in night raid gear with night vision goggles, stealth armour and silenced Carbine Rifles. It was quite loud on top so they probably wanted to keep it quiet down here. The footsteps drew closer and Scott readied his Rifle. Ready to fire upon those bastards as soon as they stepped in front of him. Only they never did. They had split paths. Two of them took the rooms on the right and the other two investigated the left. Being in between the two, Scott managed to slip behind them and further into the black site unnoticed. The site itself wasn't too big. Despite the lack of directions, Scott managed to find the prisoner captivity cells relatively easily.
Here, he found himself staring at some of Los Santos' most dangerous men and women. Mass murderers, rapists and captured terrorists surrounded the cell of Stanley Collins. They were all held in reinforced transparent plastic cells with few air holes. The prisoners themselves were chained up inside them. Four guards took watch at the corners of the room. Looks easy enough. Scott peeked out from cover with his Advanced Rifle and shot down two of them. The other two had time to react, but even then they were still helpless against Scott's onslaught. The prisoners had masks covering their mouths and they shouted in muffled yells as Scott passed them. He stopped in front of Stanley's cell. He was tied up and gagged like the rest of them. Not tortured. Yet. There was a keypad on the side of his cell. It needed a password to unlock. Scott looked over the plastic. No quiet way out. They tactical team would return any second now so why not make some noise? He put the barrel of his Advanced Rifle in front of the keypad and shot. The cell remained closed. It was worth a try. He aimed at the plastic and shot at it until his magazine was empty. Footsteps came clambering down from behind. He had to hurry. The bullets cracked the glass a decent amount. Now to break it open. Scott started to bash the cracking glass with the stock of his rifle. It was working, but not fast enough.
He pulled out his Pistol just as the tactical team arrived and fired at them. A bullet caught him in his arm but he cared little about that. This was only one of many times he had been shot. Scott continued to pop off shots until the four man team was reduced to one. Scott reloaded and proceeded to execute the remaining agent. As soon as he finished him off, the walls lit up in orange and the alarm blared on. Scott went straight back to Stanley's cell and continued to work on the plastic. It broke shortly after and he shot off the chains holding him in. Scott took off Stanley's mask and the first words that broke out of him were "they sent one guy? Really?" Scott responded "No, they sent fifty. I'm just the only one that made it down here. For now." The two heard a loud crashing sound in the background. The FIB team must have cut the cords, sending the elevator back down with a bang. "That's our ride. Let's go."
Stanley picked up an IAA Carbine Rifle then he and Scott moved quickly back towards the elevator. They shot at incoming IAA agents while running back to the way out. Scott waved towards the FIB team at the base of the elevator shaft. "Target secured. Let's get the fuck out of here." They climbed on top of the elevator as the IAA forces advanced onto them, firing at them. A few FIB agents caught bullets while Stanley and Scott proceeded to move up the ropes. Scott handed Stanley an automatic rope ascender and the two attached themselves to the fast ropes. They activated the ascenders and they were pulled up, back to the surface. Stanley commented "I know I've only been down there for twenty minutes but that place makes me want to lick the sand up here." After a short ride, the two reached the surface and Stanley walked straight for the door. "Oh that feels fucking good" he said as he hugged the desert sand. It was only when he saw the blood on it that he stood up and realised all the FIB agents surrounding the place. Scott moved up from behind him and handcuffed him. "What the fuck is this?" "You're an important man, Stanley. You run drugs. And you work for us. A double agent of sorts. But we know you've outlived your usefulness. You've been good to us lately, which is why I won't kill you. Trevor will." Scott pulled Stanley to his feet and hauled him onto a pick-up truck, adding another handcuff locking him onto it and a further pair chaining his feet together.
He continued to talk as he got in the driver seat. "So what's gonna happen now is that we are gonna go for a little ride down into the desert. You will be dropped off in a sandy location that only we and your little meth head rival knows of. Now he will want to kill you, and when he does, I and the FIB will be long gone." The truck picked up speed as they drove along the highway before taking a turn off to Grapeseed. "Trevor will come to the location we gave him and find Stanley Collins in a gift wrap. He'll then probably drag you into that cum filled truck of his and take you to his trailer, where he'll likely violate you several times before dumping your body in the Alamo Sea. Sound Good?" "Go fuck yourself." Scott stopped the truck just beyond Grapeseed, by the base of the mountain. "Well, this is it. Since we can't let the IAA have you, and we don't want you, this is where you end up." He uncuffed Stanley from the truck then kicked him out. "Adios!" he said as he drove off. Stanley was still bound in two places. Escaping was not much of an option. A red truck came into view in the distance. The devil in human form. Only it wasn't. The truck was a Bravado Bison, and driving it was a man in his early twenties. He pulled over right beside Stanley. "Come on, mate. Let's get you out of here." He pulled Stanley into the back of the Bison then started to drive off. "You must be working for Trevor, right?" "Quite the opposite. I'm taking you to a safehouse." "How the fuck did you know where I was?" "I used to be a cop. I tracked your files for a while, kept the police radio and heard the chatter about you." "So what makes me so special? Other than the meth?" "It's not the drugs, Stan, it's your skill set. You see, I've heard what you accomplished in the past. All those heists. And I just couldn't afford to let you go to waste." "So you want me to rob banks with you?" "Not just me. I have friends. Besides, you owe me for not letting you become Trevor's rape buddy." "Fair enough. So, what made you quit the force?" "Quit? No, I was fired for dealing drugs. That's why I quit it altogether and took up robbing banks and stealing gold." "What's your name, kid?" "Nathan. Nathan Woods. And I believe that this is the beginning of a shit ton of money."
Sirens. Red and blue, they flashed rapidly outside as the cavalry of police cars pulled up. Inside the building, a masked man was quickly shoving money into a duffle bag while another took watch. The second man yelled "are you quite done yet?" as he stepped over the broken pieces of the security cameras. The first man replied "Done! Let's get the fuck outta here!" The two ran outside and into the parked Armoured Karin Kuruma. They stepped on the gas as they left the Fleeca bank in a trail of dust. "What's the take?" asked the second man. "About a hundred and forty grand." The first man continued to count the cash as the second man (the driver) rammed the Kuruma through roadblocks of cop cars. The driver accelerated as they came upon the Zancudo Bridge. Floating above it was a Cargobob with an electromagnet in place of the usual hook. The Kuruma drove carefully under the magnet and was suddenly lifted into it.
The cops behind stopped and got out of their cars as they watched the Cargobob carry away a four seater car, along with a hundred grand of the bank's money. The driver took off his mask, revealing himself to be Stanley while the Driller (the first man) revealed himself as Nathan. "Woo!" he yelled as he threw the money around. He sniffed the bills and started to count again. "So, where are off to now" asked Stanley. Nathan shouted back excitedly "fuckin' Tequi-la-la, mate! We're gonna celebrate!" Stanley smiled as he took a wad of cash from the bag and thought of all the shit he could buy with that. Guns, Cars and Apartments. Although right now the price of a good car was three times the amount for an apartment. Nathan however, was only interested in two things: booze and strippers. Both of which he can have in his own apartment, which is why Stanley was wondering why he wanted to go to Tequi-la-la next. Either way, they split the money evenly and both were satisfied. "Stanley, I told you that there was going to be a shit ton of money, didn't I?" "Well, we're far from a ton and I'd rather not get faecal matter on my fun tickets. Nathan laughed. "This is just the beginning, brother. We have loads more heists waiting for us and I found a crew to match. This guy, Agent 14 wants us to break this dude outta Bolingbroke. He'll pay us half a mil to do the job. You up for it?" Stanley was conflicted, but he knew what the right choice was without even thinking. "Who 'we busting out?" "This old guy, name's Rashkovsky. He used to be head of research for the army, but we'll brief you when 14 comes to the apartment. Right now, you need a codename." Stanley thought for a moment before replying "call me Clip."
"Matthew, slow down! I can't keep up. Not at this age." Matthew Blake continued to run up the face of Mount Gordo despite David's commands. "If I stop, the dealer escapes" replied a determined Matt. He continued to force his way to the top as David Mannis limped behind. "You know what? You go ahead. I need to take a break." Matt was now too far away from David to reply. He took out his radio and said to David "I thought cops didn't take breaks." "I'm a detective. There's a difference. We oldies get more privileges, and rest breaks." Matt didn't find that amusing and continued to make his way to the summit. The wind blew strong but the dust storms were left back in Sandy Shores. Matt took out his Pistol and racked it as he reached the peak. He took careful steps as he made his way around the area, scouring the place for any drug dealers or illegal immigrants. It was noon, and the sun was scorching but that didn't stop Matt from checking every bush or crevasse in the area.
No such luck. "Fuck! We lost him!" yelled Matt over his radio. "We never even found him in the first place" replied David, who was finally catching up. "Damn it Dave, this is the fourth perp we lost this month! I can't fucking do this!" "Calm down, Matt. We'll have more chances later. You're the best cop I've ever seen, and did I or did I not get you that promotion?" Matt seemed to settle down for the time being as he made his way back to David. "Yeah Dave, you did get me promoted, but the sarge wants me to make at least three arrests before the end of the month or else I'm gone. And I've only made two so far. It's fucking February, which means I only have a week left." "We'll find more, Matt. Just take it easy. Matthew steamed in anger but refrained from any violent actions. "Don't let this job get to you, kid. I know it can be tough sometimes. I'll go have a talk with the sergeant. He'll comply." Matt continued to look away angrily in silence. The two made their way back down in silence. As David walked, he noticed a strange rustling in the bushes surrounding him. It was quick. A blur of olive and desert drab. A man with a machete. He jumped on top of David in an attempt to assassinate him. A feeble attempt quickly thwarted by Matt, who sprinted up to him, grabbed him off of David and sent both himself and the assassin rolling down the mountain in a machete/ switchblade fight. The result was horrific. Matt had threw the attacker into a tree, breaking his spine in two places. He then continued to repeatedly smash his head against the bark. Finally, Matt switched back to his switchblade to do some carving. Bloody carving. He shoved the blade right into the man's stomach before pulling it upwards towards his neck. The blade cut deep and soon, there was a nice red line from the attacker's naval to his jaw. Matt could even harvest his organs if he wanted to. A horrified David staggered towards Matt. "You had the upper hand. You could have apprehended him." "He was the drug dealer. I didn't want to stop."
David didn't take Matthew back to the station immediately. He had to get the blood off. "The suits up top cannot hear about this, okay?" "Yeah Dave, I got it." Matt was calmer now. He seemed to have acknowledged the fact that he got off easy for what he did. "Couldn't I have just said that he attacked me and that I was forced to kill him?" "What, that you were 'forced' to smash the guy's head into pieces and fully gut him?" Matt remained silent. After a quick change in the gas stop restroom while David was purchasing candy bars, Matt walked back out to the car. "You shouldn't drive angry, Matt." "I'm not angry" he replied. "Let's just go back to the station." And they did. Matt drove the police cruiser calmly and professionally. He mentioned that "the only thing I'm pissed off about is that they sent us, instead of Blaine County troops to fuckin' Mount Gordo." This, David agreed with. "So tell me Dave, why didn't you let me help get Stanley out of that IAA black site?" David hated it when Matt asked this. "For the last time Matt, it was too dangerous and out of your jurisdiction to attend." "Fuck your jurisdiction. I know I could've done something, and now the FIB has him hidden on some island, don't they?" David, knowing what probably actually happened to Stanley, replied "yeah. Off shore." Matt looked at David's expression, trying to tell if he was lying but so far, he had no luck deciphering his facial code. The same expression every time. It wasn't blank or emotionless. It was just fatigue. Undecipherable fatigue. A few minutes later, they arrived at the station.
Matt walked right past the officer that he beat up a week ago. His nose was still broken. The officer stared at Matt as he walked past. All that over a couple of insults. Insults that offended Matthew, despite the fact that they were aimed at David. Matt continued past the Kyle Lochstein memorial plaque and towards his office, or his desk rather. His small desk in the middle of the room. He went back on his computer, just like after every op he did, searching for more cases to do, more perps to catch outside of duty time. He didn't even need to do it this time. It was handed to him. Sergeant Howard walked straight up to his desk and handed him a file. "Your next case. Judging from your past experience, I'd say that this is perfect for you." Matthew opened the file. There was a blurry chase photograph of a man in a black mask leaving a Fleeca bank. Beside it was the alias. "Clip."
The evidence added up. 'Clip' was dangerous, but also clumsy. By reviewing spent magazines dropped by him and tracing their production numbers, Matthew was able to narrow his whereabouts to Sandy Shores. "Alright squad, we hit this guy quick and hard. 'Clip' is going to be participating in a drug deal at the Thomson Scrapyard by the Senora freeway. This is still a relatively open location, so I want snipers positioned behind the scrapped aircraft and my tac team going right down the middle. Matt pulled up a satellite image of the scrapyard and drew the insertion points on the whiteboard. "The intel we've got is solid, from some of Trevor Phillip's friends I believe. We take Clip down and I'm buying you all drinks, alright?" The squad voiced their agreeance and proceeded up to the FIB helipad. Matthew, now a Police Sergeant II, led the raid on 'Clip's proposed location. He, along with his squad, made their way onto the Froggers and set off for the scrapyard.
"This 'Clip' man just pulled off a minor bank heist successfully so expect him to be armed and well prepared. He has a known associate who we are unable to identify, so be cautious of your surroundings and don't get flanked. Our ranks are on the line here so do your best. Tonight, I'm going to be either buying each and every one of you a drink, or I'll be poorly grading all of your field performances." The two Froggers closed in on the scrapyard within fifteen minutes and Matt gestured the pilot to fly low and land a decent distance away from the scrapyard, but within sniping distance. Matt and the team spread out and headed for their positions inside the yard. The snipers carried standard Sniper Rifles and Marksman Rifles and they took cover behind the downed FlyUS plane. The assault team drew closer to their target in the centre but spread out across the yard to hide and stake the transaction out. They were ready. Now it was Clip's turn.
"How's Rashkovsky holding up in prison?" asked Stanley. Nathan replied "well, he'll be getting out as soon as he was sent in so I think that he'll just have to endure the time being, which isn't so bad. But if I know Bolingbroke introductions, his rectum would be quite stretched by now." Stanley laughed at the idea of old man rape, not that he was into that sort of stuff. He wasn't. Nathan continued to drive the Canis Mesa towards the scrap yard. "Quick in and out deal, right?" "Yeah, it's just some extra meth I gotta unload. After this, I'm gonna fly over to Paleto Bay and check up on Hannah." They arrived at the scrapyard and Stanley got out. He had his Combat Pistol tucked away in his pants in case the deal went sour. The buyer was supposed to be some middle aged man who had money to spare. Middle life crisis much. Stanley AKA Clip, continued to walk casually towards the middle of the scrapyard, oblivious to the FIB agents hiding in the shadows. Stanley and his Aviator shades were enough to cover his identity for the most part. None of the FIB agents recognised him. None except Matt. This however, was too late. The middle aged man had brought with him two tough looking thugs. Thugs with Assault Rifles. Not good. "We'll take the meth, thank you very much." They obviously didn't know Stanley 'Clip' Collins. He dived behind a rusted car and started to blind fire his Combat Pistol while the thugs rained lead upon that poor car. This was exactly when Matt recognised Stanley, but it was too late.
The FIB agents had already started to fire upon the thugs and the middle aged man. "Hold Fire!" yelled Matt into the radio. This created a quick second of silence in the scrapyard before Nathan fired his Heavy Sniper right at an FIB assaulter, tearing his head clean off. The agents then continued to fire at both Stanley and his friend. This was no longer about making money. It was about survival. Survival in a boneyard. Stanley, despite his skill with the Combat Pistol, was about to lose his defence and cover. The car was filling up with holes on the outside. FIB agents closed in on his position despite Matt's yelling and crude orders to cease fire. Nathan continued to pick off the agents closest to Clip, often leaving them with gaping fist sized holes in their bodies. Matthew was distressed beyond relief. "Stop! Fucking stop!" The FIB agents focused suppressing fire on Nathan as Stanley ran out of ammo. This stopped Nathan from returning fire as the agents converged on both of their positions. Matt couldn't let his friend get arrested, so he risked everything. He unloaded the magazine from his Pistol and threw it over to Clip. Two of the agents saw him do it but they were quickly brought down by Stanley who headshotted them both in less than a second. Stanley looked at Matt suspiciously, as if he knew the man behind the mask. But he didn't. All he knew was that he was a friend. A good friend. "Nathan, hold fire on the FIB Sergeant." "Yeah, kinda busy here, Clip. These FIB dudes are all over my position." This was followed by rapid gunfire then static. Stanley finished off the rest of the snipers and assaulters in the boneyard, but there were many more surrounding Nathan and the Mesa. Stanley and Matthew advanced towards them. Matt continued to try ordering the agents to stop with utter futility. "Why don't you follow my orders?!" he yelled. An agent responded "because it's not you that we follow."
"Orders come from David Mannis himself." Matthew knew what this meant immediately. He stopped abruptly then ran back to the Frogger in a mad dash. His hopes were shattered when he saw the chopper taking off, revealing five FIB Grangers with armed assault units riding in it. His radio beeped and on it came David's voice. "I'm sorry Matthew, but you were too dangerous. Too volatile to have around the force. I knew your breaking point was close so I didn't want to endanger any other officers or me. You were a good cop, Matt. The best I've ever seen, but I can't cover for you any longer. I'm sorry it had to end like this." Matt dropped the radio to the dust below. He fell to his knees only to feel a metal barrel pointed at the back of his head. "Who are you and what do you have to do with David?" asked Stanley. Matt, who was frantically thinking but ultimately out of options said "Stan, it's me, Tyler. Please help." Stan knew that he recognised the voice, but that was all that sounded familiar about the new Matt. Stanley, who was silent for a short amount of time replied "go. Let's get to cover." The two went back into the boneyard. Both were still relatively uninjured, but this was about to not be true due to the massive presence of FIB agents with an intent to kill. There was a kill order on both 'Clip' and Matthew Blake. "Tyler? How is this possible? You were announced as dead." Still under fire, Tyler continued to engage in the conversation, knowing that it might be the last one he has.
"I survived the crash, but just barely. I was taken to a medical facility where I bribed the doctor into altering my facial reconstruction. I wanted a new identity. A fresh start. Tyler was too dirty and had too much heat on him. But most of all, I just wanted to see the look on Trevor's face when I revealed myself to him before putting an end to his fucking life." Stanley had a solemn look on his face. "Seems plausible." Suddenly, a heavily injured Nathan crashed his way through to Stanley and Matt (AKA Tyler). "Get in and lets fuck off!" he yelled as he opened the passenger door. "Who the fuck is this guy?" asked Nathan regarding Tyler. "An old friend" replied Stanley. Nathan stepped on the accelerator and the three sped off. "Shit guys, it looks like a stage four FIB pursuit. This won't be easy to evade." Nathan pushed the Mesa to its breaking point and then some. "Head for the hills. Literally" said Stanley. He then turned to Matt and questioned "so why the fuck is David trying to kill the both of us?" "He thinks that you're a common drug dealer and that I'm 'unstable'. It was a set up. This whole op. Two birds, one stone." "We'll see about that" replied Nathan as he drove the Mesa towards the train tracks. "Nathan, don't even think about-" Nathan pulled on the handbrake and powerslid the Mesa right onto the back of the cargo train. Its skirts caught on the train's sides and was flipped onto one of the empty train cars. Now flipped on its side, Nathan knew that the Mesa's journey ended here, but not theirs. Not yet.
"Go! Fucking go!" The Mesa was on fire and the three men wanted by the FIB were in a feeble attempt to flee to safety. They crawled out of the fast burning vehicle and climbed up the proceeding cargo container. Hundreds of bullets have riddled the Mesa, turning the black smoke to bright, orange fire. "It's gonna blow!" yelled Nathan as he led the group hopping across the train cars. Two police Mavericks were on their tail, not to mention the dozen land vehicles driving alongside the train. Nathan switched to his Special Carbine and fired upon the cars parallel to the locomotive. It blew out an FIB SUV's tire and made it swerve out of the way and into a tree. The train was going fast, past Sandy Shores and towards the Mount Josiah tunnel. "We'll lose the choppers in there. Just stay in cover until then" said Matthew. Stanley abruptly replied "there's no cover to stay behind!" as he reloaded his Combat Pistol with Nathan's extra mags. Nathan himself was a bloody mess.
The encounter with the FIB agents previously took a heavy toll on his health. Stanley saw over five gunshot wounds on him and still, Nathan managed to limp his way across the train cars. Now all three of them had made their way to the next car over. The Mesa exploded in a blaze of orange and red. Shrapnel was flung across the area, breaking windows and even making a driver clutch his bloody face in red hot pain. His SUV ran off the road and into the town of Sandy Shores. An explosion occurred not long after. The tunnel was upon them. It swallowed them whole. And it was a relief. Now they had the advantage. Only one of those SUVs could fit in there at a time without crashing. Nathan threw his Special Carbine over to Stanley before making his way to the next empty car bed and lying down. "You take care of them. I just need a little bit of rest." "Fine by me" replied Stanley. He aimed the rifle down at the SUV and took out the driver accurately. The SUV swerved to a stop at an angle, blocking the tunnel from behind. A second later, a police cruiser crashed into the back of it. Perfect. "The choppers will be waiting for us on the other side" commented Matt. Stanley replied "I know, but there's no other way out. Don't worry. I've got a plan." Matthew was a little more than uncertain about this. "The last time you had a 'plan', I had to have facial reconstruction surgery. Stanley made a slight smirking face. "This time, it'll be different" he said as he jumped off the moving train.
"Stan! What the fuck? What about your friend?" "He can handle himself. I've seen him do it before enough times that I don't even need to worry about him." Matt turned back to check on Nathan and sure enough, he was gone. "Where…?" Matthew turned and saw Nathan running towards the exit of the tunnel with hardly a limp. "He takes Bull Shark Testosterone I think. It can't be good for him if he does it all the time, but what the hell, he know what he's doing. As soon as the head of the train peeked out of the tunnel, it came under a hail of gunfire and explosions. That didn't stop the train though. It just kept on going. "Now is when my plan comes into action" said Stanley as he followed Nathan to the exit. He threw out two smoke grenades and one Flashbang. Stanley gestured for Matt to catch up, and the three took a sharp right out of the tunnel before the train bridge.
This took them onto a dirt path crammed full with police cars. Cars ready for the taking. Within the smoke and confusion, Stanley used his Silenced Combat Pistol to take out the occupants of the first cop car. The three got in and before the smoke cleared, they were all dressed like normal Blaine County police officers. Stanley was the driver this time. He carefully took the car back along the road from whence it came. All the other officers in their cars did little to notice the three 'criminals' escape from their wanted level. After about ten minutes of driving, Stanley had arrived back at his safe house in Sandy Shores. He ordered one of his guards to get Nathan patched up while he and Matthew sat down. "I gotta admit Stan, that was a lot better than our pervious escape. Stanley agreed. "So what, you've just been playing dress up for the past couple of months?" "Yeah, I just wanted a taste of the life on the other side of the law. The right side." "I think being a cop suits you. You know, Nathan there was a cop too. Got fired for dealing drugs. Hell, even I was a cop. And so was David…" "Coincidence perhaps, or cops are just drawn to crime." Stanley shook his head and replied "no. We're not drawn to it. We're assigned to it. Seeing it every day and not even being a little excited by the glimpse of the criminal life is harder than you'd think." Matt's radio beeped, interrupting their conversation. He listened to it openly. "Hey Matt, please don't take this personally but just turning yourself in would be the easier option in the end, wouldn't it? I know that you've somehow ran off with the drug dealer okay? Trust me. This is not the sort of life you want. Just turn yourself in and I guarantee that you will be treated fairly." Stanley was surprised at how much of a dick David sounded like, especially to one of his own kind. He took the radio from Matt's hands and pushed the talk button. "Hey David, that meth dealer your guys are shooting at. Yeah it me. Stan. So call the search off cus they won't find me, or T-" Matt swiped the radio from Stan's hands before he could reveal his true identity. He threw it on the ground and crushed it into pieces with his boot. "He doesn't need to know. Not yet."
One Week Later
"That prison break with Rashkovsky? Yeah it'll have to wait. Maybe a month, maybe a year. I've got some business to take care of. Thanks for understanding, Agent 14." Stanley hung up the call with the illusive agent and returned to face his demons. "Alright. Nathan, Matthew, we're gonna be heading up to Mount Chiliad to strike a deal with David Mannis. He called me a couple minutes ago and he said that he would come alone. He told it to me, so I trust him. We'll get this thing with the FIB sorted out tonight, gentlemen. And don't worry. We're gonna be riding in style. My friend from Pegasus agreed to loan me a Buckingham Swift for the day, so enjoy your ride up. The three departed from the safe house and down to Stanley's Obey Tailgater. From there, they travelled to Sandy Shores airfield where they collected the chopper. Stanley wasn't surprised that the safe house wasn't attacked over the past week. The cops knew all about avoiding residences with active anti-aircraft personnel. The three arrived at Sandy Shores in style, and they would leave in style. They entered the Buckingham Swift, with Nathan back as the pilot. "Thank you for choosing Air Drug Dealer, we will arrive at our destination in twenty minutes." Nobody laughed at this. The Swift lived up to its name. It made the trip in just under fifteen minutes. At the height of Mount Chiliad was the Aerial Tramway along with an observation deck.
There were usually quite a few tourists here but today, it was dark and empty. The Swift landed softly at the peak of the mountain and out the window, Stanley saw David folding his newspaper and walking towards the chopper. Matthew opened the sliding door, half expecting David to just straight up pull out a gun and shoot him. This however was not the case. David was calm and professional. Nathan, who had not yet been identified by the FIB wore a mask. Stanley walked up to David. "Let's discuss terms then." David nodded. "So here we are again. The FIB will agree to put both of you in Vice City on the condition that neither of you, including your pilot friend there intervenes or disrupts the FIB's work ord-" David's terms and conditions were cut short by a sudden deep grunting sound. He had been shot. In the back. David quickly drew his sidearm but was shot a second time. This time knocking him down for good. The quick whiz of the bullets weren't enough for Stanley to judge their source. He and Matthew walked out to investigate but the second that Stanley turned back, he saw a choking Matthew, with a blade sticking out of his chest. Matt fell onto his side, struggling. Stanley and his Combat Pistol were at the ready, but not ready enough for the blow from behind, knocking him out.
It was dark. Real dark. Stanley woke up from his short nap after being struck in the head, only to find himself in a dark and haunting room. A room with chains and ropes. "Shit. Probably some medieval torture crap" Stanley thought to himself. He tried to move his head. It tilted one way or the other. At least his head was free to move. Stanley looked higher and saw his arms tied to a pipe above him. His eyes adapted more to the darkness and he could make out more objects. Gardening tools, construction tools, torture tools. This was not very nice indeed. To his right, he saw David Mannis. His wounds had bandages over them. They seemed to have been applied professionally. This meant that their captor must have medical experience. Despite their situation, torturers having medical experience always seem to be the worst ones due to their ability at keeping their subjects alive for longer. To Stanley's left was Nathan, all tied up and gagged. Straight opposite Stanley appeared to be a staircase.
This meant that they were in a basement of some sort. Soon, a lumbering middle aged man came walking down the stairs. "Ah. You are awake." He spoke with a Indian accent. Of course. "I am very sorry about your friend Matthew. It seems as if my associate had accidentally ruptured a heart valve of his and left him to die a painful death. Oh. Here he comes now." A second man came down the stairs. He was bald and in his twenties. Suddenly, David shook in his chains. The Indian man spoke "ah yes. It seems as if your little detective friend has already met my lovely associate. David recognised the bald man instantly. It wasn't often that someone beat him in a fight, and that fight was memorable. The Indian man continued "your little brawl in the Legion Square proved that you were the most able fighter to take on Tyler."
David, who wasn't gagged said to Stanley "that's what he called himself" as he nodded to the bald man. The Indian man continued "you see, I've been recently working with genetic growth and regeneration acceleration. Tyler here has undergone all of my experiments and has come out a new man. A stronger, faster and deadlier man. No human is a match for his skills. Your cop buddy there has been digging too much into my occupation and so I had to assassinate him at that coffee shop." "Wait, that was you? I thought it was the IAA" interrupted Stanley. "Yes. Both the bombing and the fistfight proved ineffective. You really are a persistent big man, aren't you, David Mannis?" David gave a stern "I'm-gonna-kill-you" look to the doctor before saying "look doctor, your operations are illegal and I had to pursue you. The doctor replied "Please. Call me Doctor Das."
"So what about your little Nathan friend? Why is he so quiet?" "I dunno doc, maybe it's the tape across his mouth or the stench in here being so bad that he doesn't want to breathe. Dr Das proceeded to rip the tape off while saying "you see gentlemen, I have recently came into some funds which is why all this is possible. You see, my Tyler here is actually Matthew Blake. Your Matthew was kind enough to present me with his body. David, for one of the few times in his life was genuinely confused. "What the fuck…?" Dr Das continued "I wouldn't let such a nice specimen go to waste so I experimented on him, and the result I got was better than anything I had ever hoped for.
Killing you David, is just tying up a loose end. Making sure that you won't interfere with my research again. Suddenly, the basement door crashed open and a loud and bright, blinding flash snapped across the room. Once the blindness and deafness was over, Stanley saw Dr Das lying on the floor, dead with over twenty bullet holes in him. 'Tyler', however was hiding behind the entry wall. "To your left!" yelled Stanley at one of the incoming breachers. The breacher did a combat roll but it was still thwarted by 'Tyler's lightning fast reflexes and his pinpoint accuracy. He snatched the man's assault rifle then proceeded to climb up to the stairs to finish off the rest. Nathan opened his mouth for the first time "are these guy's with you?" to which Stanley replied. "Yeah, man. They're with me, Merryweather Security Consulting. Emergency Panic Button I stole from their base when I was applying for a job there. A lot more gunfire could be heard upstairs and Stanley tried his hardest to get the ropes loose. He tugged down at it and even tried biting it. Biting had a bit more effect than doing nothing at all so he continued to it more. The rope's sinews started to give way to Stanley's teeth.
He chewed at it more and soon, one of the binds were loose. Stanley went straight to work on the other. Now with the additional power of his right hand, he took off the left rope in even less time. Stanley went over to Nathan and David and freed them. He went over to the dead Merryweather agent's body and took his Pistol sidearm. The genetically modified 'Tyler' was wreaking havoc upstairs, and Stanley couldn't let that happen. He continued upwards, up the stairs and out to the lounge. This was some poor house in Paleto Bay. No doubt about it. Stanley saw dead Merryweather agents left and right, but that didn't stop him from moving on. As he searched the house, he picked up fallen Merryweather weapons like their Advanced Rifles and SMGs. The three salvaged body armour and collected grenades. There was easily an entire army's worth of supplies in here. Stanley busted out the front door and was greeted by a steady stream of late afternoon sunlight. It was almost sundown. "What the fuck do we do now?" asked Stanley to the equally confused group. "Face me" said a voice behind the three.
That voice haunted David, and he wanted justice for that beating in Legion Square. Tyler 2.0 jumped down from the roof and landed in front of them. He carried two Machetes, two Machine Pistols, a Combat MG and a Marksman Rifle. Tyler 2.0 was quick on the draw. He whipped out his Akimbo Machine Pistols and sprayed down Stanley, Nathan and David's position, forcing the latter two to move to either side of the house while Stanley ran back upstairs. Nathan had a Bullpup Rifle and he peeked out of cover on occasion to suppress Tyler 2.0. It wasn't his accuracy that was useless. It was just the gun itself. The bullets' velocity were heavily deterred by Tyler 2.0s Sub-Dermal Armour. It blunted the impact massively. They needed a higher calibre weapon. "Find a Heavy Sniper or something! This guy's fucking tough!" Stanley listened to Nathan and went scouring for such a weapon. David, on the other side of the house, shot at Tyler 2.0 with his Special Carbine. This did just as little damage as the Bullpup Rifle did. Suddenly, the second floor window smashed and out of it poked a Grenade Launcher.
Tyler 2.0 looked at it, impressed. "Hm" he uttered before being blown up. Out from the flames came a darker looking man. Stanley saw grey military grade body armour loosely covering the flesh and man inside. "Sub Dermal my ass. Assault this cunt!" he yelled and the group opened fire on the abomination of man and science. Tyler 2.0 dashed left and made a cut to Nathan with his Machetes. Nathan staggered back, unable to avoid the mad slashes the modified man used. The blades cut across his chest, ripping open the Merryweather body armour. Then with a loud boom and a clang, Tyler 2.0's right arm flew clean off. He turned around to see a smiling Stanley with a Heavy Sniper. "I found one" he said proudly. Tyler 2.0 took out one of his Combat MGs and started to concentrate fire on Stanley, with one round catching him in the leg. "Aw Fuck! Ow! Dave, go get this fucker!"
David happily agreed and took the Heavy Sniper out of Stanley's hands. The medically enhanced man however was still fast, probably faster than ever. He dashed at the Mannis and pinned him to the ground with a machete to the leg. Behind him, Nathan had found a Marksman Rifle. Its heavy calibre semi-automatic fire pierced through the extra armour Tyler 2.0 carried and started to meet his internal organs. Tyler 2.0 took cover out of the way and into the house to recover. This was however a particularly bad idea. Stanley switched back to his grenade launcher and aimed it at the door and fired, he aimed it at the windows, and fired. He shot until the launcher was empty. And finally, after all the bullets, all the pain and all the shrapnel, Tyler 2.0 finally dragged its top half outside. His body was completely shredded. A bloody mess of red pulp and ceramic coloured armour created the living abomination that was him. His liver, stomach and what was left of his intestines were all showing. He gasped for air and used his single good arm to slowly crawl towards a slightly injured Stanley. "I… I was the future of man. Look what you have done. All that research, all those sacrifices… I used to be a shitty construction worker, then I was a god. All thanks to Dr Des, and YOU KILLED HIM!"
Stanley was too horrified by the burnt sagging face flesh to reply, but David stepped in. "Look at you, you're an abomination of nature. Things like you aren't supposed to exist." David could see the white bone of Tyler 2.0's skull, shoulders and ribcage. "Put him out of his misery" he ended. An exhausted Nathan joined them and said "I think you should do it" before retching and walking out into the street. David considered this thought for only a second before taking the Heavy Sniper and placing it flat on top of Tyler 2.0's exposed skull. He said nothing as he pulled the trigger and a mess of brains and pulp came splattering out. David sat back down with Stanley. "I never got a good look at your friend there" "Well maybe that's a good thing. Enough people have died because of you. I think I need to take a break. Maybe sell a bit more meth on the side, get a body double for my wife in Sandy Shores and futureproof my family. David looked back at Stanley "hey, I think I can help you. There's this um working girl. She kinda looks like Hannah but she might be pregnant so I don't know if…" "Just give me her number. It all depends on the girl. Usually they accept as soon as they see the pay."
David nodded and gave the number to Stanley. "So when is Hannah gonna come back home?" "Probably until the heat with the IAA and more importantly, Trevor cools off. It might be quite long, but I'll check up on her every couple of days." David looked down at the red grass as the sun set. "Enjoy your life, Stanley. I'll see you around. Hopefully not too much. The terms and conditions can wait. I'll do what I can to keep both the agencies off your tail, but I'm not doing for you. I'm doing it for your family." Stanley smiled warmly for the first time in months. "I appreciate it, Dave" he said as he stood up and called for a cab.
Ten Months Later
2008, Blaine County
Trevor only hated one thing more than undercooked meth, and that was Stanley and his Meth Pantry. The two were competing meth dealers with very different goals. Even though they were also big time arms dealers, Stanley wanted to make enough money to get the fuck out of the business and go to New Zealand while Trevor wanted to dominate the West Coast. Trevor, who had recently moved from North Yankton after a botched bank heist, had already taken down most of the major competitors; except for Stanley; who had a small private military force working for him. Armed with tear gas, riot shields and military grade weaponry, Stanley made sure that Trevor and his goons were incapable of taking down his meth empire. They both wanted to be the new kingpin.
Trevor's plan was exceptional. This was the best he had ever come up with. "Ron, I think this is it. My masterpiece. My Mona Lisa. My Magnum Opus." "What is it, Trev?" asked Ron to which Trevor replied "My perfectly fuckingly exceptionally orgasmic strategy to infiltrate Stanley Panties' Meth Pantry and obliterate that motherfucker from the balls of this Earth!" Ron interrupted with "Can I see" only to get yelled at by Trevor. "No! You may not fucking see my fucking masterpiece or I will fucking walk to your whore mother's house and fucking fuck her fucktarded cat then fuck her cervix 'till if fucking bleeds fuck juice!" A shocked Ron quietly said "You don't have to fuck so much, Trev" to which he replied "Get the fuck out of my rape trailer! To the fucking rape doghouse you go!" Ron agreed submissively but before he left the trailer, Trevor said "Wait! Go fetch me a whore first! I feel like ejaculating violently tonight." Ron replied "A whore like my mother?" and Trevor concluded "No! Not your fucking fucktarded mother! Actually… how is she. Last I saw her, she wasn't looking so bad." Ron ran out. "-And that whore better be dick ready!" Trevor yelled from the trailer as he watched Ron run. "Good. Now that turdfucks gone, I can finally jizz over my masturbatory plan." Trevor rolled out his plan and looked at it. The strategy was to wait until Stanley left his meth superlab to go to Ammu-nation then call a Merryweather air strike on his lab, forcing all the employees to retreat to the bomb shelter basement. Now that would be when the fun begins. Trevor will drive a Vehicle-Borne-Explosive-Device (VBED) right into the front door and kill and rape anyone and anything he sees fit. Just last week, he sexually assaulted a cactus. After 3 painful days, the cactus finally died. Trevor's plan was simple but effective. Just like his cock, before his strangled it to death because it kept waking him up in the morning.
Ron was not the brightest star in the sky, but he could sure pick prostitutes. This one only had half the sexually transmitted diseases Trevor had and didn't look like a cactus… as much. "Ron! My boy bitch! You picked a goody! 'Cuz she looks fine like a Vinewood sign." Said Trevor as he led the obviously drugged lady to his meth bed. "Tops off, bottoms too. I'd like to see my shiny teeth on that round ass of yours" Neither of those were even remotely shiny. The prostitute took off her top and Trevor's eyes lit up. In his white undergarments, he said "nice melon lemons!" as he rubbed crystal methamphetamine all over her somewhat clean breasts. She interrupted him with "are we gonna fuck or do meth?" This made Trevor mad. "Now lady… nobody interrupts the great Trevor Philips. Now if you don't let me do these things to your body, I will just have to kill you and do it anyway."
The horrified whore backed away from Trevor instantly and started to run for the door. Trevor pulled out his stun gun and shot the poor lady just as she was outside. Unlucky for her, it was raining at the time. The electricity was conducted through the rainwater and shocked her throughout, sending her into a coma. "Well Ron, there's two things I like to fuck in life; fried chicken and fried chicks." Trevor anally raped the comatose whore then dumped her unconscious body into the lake. "Man! That was a good old fashioned in and out! Where did you find that lovely whore, Ron?" Ron replied "On the road. She was driving to get groceries but when I saw that it was Stanley's wife, I stopped the car and injected her with some roofies mixed with cocaine. Wasn't this just the perfect way to get revenge?" Trevor gaped in awe. "That… was Stanley's wife?! And you used my masturbation drug mix on her?!" Ron nodded proudly. Trevor, forcing himself to act calm, said to Ron "Lie down on the bed please." To which he replied "Ooh goody. Is this going to be a special blow treat?" Trevor answered "Something like that" as he held Ron down, made a small incision in his scrotum, reached inside and removed one of his testicles.
Stanley was equally in both grief and madness. His eyes were focused on the Special Carbine in front of him, staring at it without blinking. Behind it was a Machine Gun, twelve sticky bombs, a grenade launcher and two RPGs. He leaned over on his desk in the Armoury of his four storey meth superlab and look at the twenty five canisters of tear gas beyond. Every single one of those canisters will be forcefully inserted into Trevor's anus. Stanley blinked for the first time in two minutes. After having a staring contest with his guns, he said to his guards "Mount up. We are going to war." The guards all hurried to the vehicle pool and got into their respective vehicles. There were two Canis Combat Mesas, two Insurgents and one Insurgent Pick Up. Stanley walked outside, stared at the empty street and said "Trevor, there will be a reckoning. There will be one tonight. My respect, my business and now my wife? What more do you seek to take from me?" He looked over at the convoy and said "Lock and fucking load. Move out. To Trevor's we go." Little did he know that Trevor was currently planning a counter attack.
His counter strike movement was to use his Merryweather Air Strike call on the oncoming convoy and rage kill the rest of the troops. Good plan. Stanley got in his black, bulletproof Obey Tailgater. His bodyguard drove it and followed the back of the convoy. Stanley was not in the right state of mind. This attack wasn't planned or calculated. It was made out of pure anger and adrenaline. He took some of his famous crystal methamphetamine in the backseat and set his eyes on the goal. Just as the convoy turned into Trevor's street, a Jobuilt P-996 LAZER came soaring through the air and delivered a massive air strike on the front end of the convoy, destroying both Mesas and one Insurgent. Stanley took his Machine Gun, strapped his Special Carbine on his back, tucked away the silenced Combat Pistol and got out of the Tailgater. He was ready for war.
30 Minutes Ago
Trevor shouted furiously at Ron. "What the fuckfused fuck have you done, you fucktarded fuckcow?! This is why removing only one of your fucking fuckcicles wasn't enough! I'm gonna cut out your liver, plop it on the bed and make fucking sweet love to it! You're gonna be a generous grade-A organ donor! Ron squealed cowardly as he slowly backed away from the raging psychotic Trevor who started laughing manically. "You know what's gonna happen now, Ron? Stanley and his fucking army will come to rape us at our doorstep! So go get all my friends and family and those who are both to come here and die for me!" Ron quietly replied "But Trev, you don't have any friends…" This crossed Trevor's line. He grabbed his scissors of his raping tray and walked quickly up to Ron who started to turn and run. "I'm sorry, Trevor! I'll get you your friends!" Trevor yelled back "You better because for each second I don't get a suicidal douche, I'll cut off your nipples!" Ron ran away faster. "That fucking pubeless, dickless, ballless shittarded fuck! If Stan wants to rape me, he'll have to rape all those rape horny fucktards of mine first!" Trevor was scared shitless at the fact that at any moment now, one of Stanley's informants will discover his raped wife and provoke Stanley to annihilate Trevor and everything he holds dear. Including his Impotent Rage figure. Trevor didn't want that. Not one bit. So he had sent Ron off to gather people willing to fight for him while he went to his garage armoury to gather all the guns and explosive he could carry. He stared at the stacks of Assault Rifles, Sawn-off Shotguns and Machine Guns which slightly lightened his mood. He went up to his Combat MG and stroked it. "I love you" he said as he pulled down his pants.
Stanley stood silently as the explosion died down and uttered "He raped my wife. So now I'm gonna rape his life" under his breath. He stared at the wrecked Insurgent and burning carcasses of the Mesas. He started to walk slowly towards Trevor's trailer only to see a horde of whores, gang members and drug addicts walk his way. The horde had guns. Lots of guns. A few had RPGs while the rest carried either automatic weapons, explosives or both. Stanley raised his MG at the horde as remaining members of his private army marched up ahead. The Insurgent Pick-Up drove ahead and the gunner eviscerated, dismembered and decapitated anyone standing in its way. Stanley aimed his MG at the horde and fired continuously. His black leather gloved hand never let go of the trigger.
A prostitute with a Micro SMG jumped out at Stanley who immediately aimed at her and shot twenty four bullets into her body. Blood and guts flew out of her body in chunks as her arms flailed at her sides. Looks like she's never going to be able to get laid again… or can she? She does have twenty four more holes after all. Stanley, who was high as fuck on crystal methamphetamine, advanced towards the trailer. He was halfway there now. He saw Molotovs being thrown at the Insurgent Pick-Up only to get bullets thrown back. Stanley walked over the disembodied corpses without giving them a single glance. A couple of meth-heads ran out and at Stanley, firing their Assault Rifles and Pump Action Shotguns. This did not catch Stanley off guard, who reacted instantly and shot them all multiple times, but not without catching a couple for himself. This didn't hurt him however, the adrenaline was taking care of that. His MG clicked empty just as the last surviving Meth-Head reached for his weapon. Quickly, Stanley picked up one of the dead goons' Assault Shotgun and sprayed its shells all over the meth-head. All sixteen shells, gone. Stanley discarded the now useless weapon as he watched the top half of the meth-head fall to the ground. The bottom half (which was the dripping intestines down to the legs) fell on its knees before falling onto its side. Stanley whipped out his Special Carbine and shot at the remains of the dying horde. They weren't completely cannon fodder though as one of the managed to throw a Molotov cocktail inside the remaining Insurgent. The crew tumbled out in flames, futilely trying to put out the fire consuming their bodies.
Now there was only the Insurgent Pick-Up left in action. Suddenly on top of Trevor's trailer appeared a crack-addict with an RPG. He fired it and it exploded on the side of the Insurgent Pick-Up. Out of the flames came the mounted turret which moved gracefully into position. It effectively eviscerated the dumb cunt with the RPG. The Pick-Up was badly damaged but still in working condition. This changed when Trevor suddenly appeared from the house opposite his trailer, ran up to the Insurgent Pick-Up and shot the driver multiple times in the head with his Pistol.50. This caused the dead driver to unintentionally put pressure on the throttle and drive the Pick-Up straight ahead, leaving the gunner and passengers unable to reach Stanley. Trevor gracefully spun out of the way and took out his Combat MG. "Hello, Stanny Boy. Must be tough with your wife having an affair with your rival… who unintentionally murdered, raped and dumped her. In that order. Not the other way 'round."
Stanley raised his Special Carbine at Trevor but before he could pull the trigger, he was hit by a sniper bullet. Stanley's remaining private army forces were either too far away, too injured or too dead to be able to help him. Trevor pointed his Combat MG at a dying mercenary. He pulled the trigger but nothing happened. Confused, he pulled it more and shook the gun until he saw a gooey white liquid drip out the barrel. Serves him right for having sexual relationships with his firearms. The firework launcher gave him an STD too. An injured Stanley lied on the floor and said "Are you so lonely that you fuck your guns, Trevor?" to which Trevor replied "Hey! Do you know what STD stands for? Huh? Suck Trevor's Dick! So get over here and do it before I even consider letting you live!" Stanley grinned and said "Suck it yourself. You must be used to it since you do it every night." Trevor laughed. "And I thought it was me who was gonna to be where you are right now – dying on the fucking road.
Pitiful. Not good enough, Stanley…" Trevor turned around as he prepared his raping knife. This allowed Stanley to move back a metre or two, behind the cover of the fence and out of the sniper's line of sight. Trevor, while still looking the other way, said "You know what I'm gonna do to you, Stanny boy? I'm gonna literally roast your nuts and eat them straight off the stove. With a little meth as a side dish and mouthwash because everything about you – including your balls are repulsive." Stanley responded "How do you know what my nuts taste like? Have you been sucking them your entire life? Because you'll be sucking a lot more very soon." An enraged Trevor turned around only to receive four shots from Stanley's Silenced Combat Pistol. Trevor fell to the ground and flung his Assault Rifle across the road, right by the Combat MG he made love with. He was now helpless. "Hey Trevor, I hope you have enough meth money left over. You're gonna need it for your gun's therapy" Said Stanley. Trevor growled but soon stopped as he saw one of his trusty men come up from behind Stanley and strangle him with a garrotte.
The light switched on. Stanley raised his head and looked around. He was in a dark room and tied to a chair. Both of his hands were bound by rope and he couldn't move. He didn't bother to struggle. His neck was sore from where he was choked and dragged. This was not good for him. The white iron door in front of him clicked and in came a delighted Trevor. "Stan… Oh, how the tables have turned time after time. But don't worry. I won't let them turn again. You my friend, are in a torture chair. I will do things to your body that you will not like. Oh, and by the way, while I rip the flesh off of you, my men will be raiding your meth lab and taking all your shit. Then we're gonna burn it. All of it. I may have raped your wife but you shot me. Four times. Luckily I'm just so fucking strong that all of your bullets were afraid to hurt me. So, let the fun begin. Ron! Bring the torture tray to the torture chamber!" Distantly Ron replied "You mean the toilet?" and Trevor angrily yelled "Yes! The fuckshitted toilet!" Ron hurried in with a trolley holding various torture tools. "Good! Now run the fuck away from me before I come after your other testicle!" Trevor yelled as Ron ran out. "I will get my revenge, Trevor. Just you wait" said Stanley and Trevor replied "But not before I get mine." He took the first tool of the trolley which just so happened to be a large hunting knife.
"Perfect…" Trevor said as he quickly lunged the knife into Stanley's right leg. The knife made a quick, sharp sound as Stanley growled in pain and Trevor stood laughing. Delighted, he decided to savour the moment by using a smaller blade. He found a scalpel and chuckled at what he was about to do which was to carve the letters TPI (Trevor Philips Industries) onto Stanley's hand, but before he could finish the P, Stanley spat on his face, and grinned. Trevor, however was even more delighted. He took his punching fist out and started to beat the shit out of Stanley's head. Punch after punch, Trevor's sheer strength nearly rendered Stanley unconscious. Still enraged, Trevor took the carving scalpel and stabbed it right into Stanley's left arm. Satisfied with himself, Trevor went to grab his camera to capture the moment, leaving the makeshift toilet torture room. While searching for his camera, Ron ran up to Trevor and said "Our men are encountering heavy resistance at Stanley's meth lab. If they don't get more support, I don't think we can take it over." Trevor suddenly became enraged again and walked quickly to get in his Canis Bodhi but he suddenly stopped before exiting his trailer. He immediately went to his makeshift dresser and took out his Pistol. Walking to the toilet torture room, he aimed the Pistol at Stanley's torso and fired once, leaving him to bleed out. "See you in hell, Stanny Boy!" who replied "You too, Trevor." Trevor got in his truck and quickly drove off to Stanley's meth lab.
The drive to the meth lab wasn't too long. The towering, dark building made Trevor's meth lab look like an outhouse with the shit on the outside. Trevor hit the accelerator with all his strength. After a short drive, he finally made it. There was a massive firefight going on in there, and Trevor's team was losing it. Muzzle flashed covered the dark blue tinted translucent windows. Trevor got out of his Bodhi and walked to the trunk. In there was a Grenade Launcher and a Heavy Shotgun. He strapped the Launcher around his back and held the Shotgun in his hands. Running up to the building, he saw one of the third storey windows break and one of his men fall out. That man broke all the bones in his body and Trevor looked down at him with disappointment. The man's dying words were "Trevor… go fuck yourself."
Trevor stared at him for two seconds but continued onwards, leaving the man to suffer. Paper and glass littered the ground floor. It looked more like an office building than a meth lab. It was once well organised and tidy, but not anymore and surely not when Trevor blows it up. He and his Heavy Shotgun ran up the stairs towards where Stanley's remaining forces are. Just before Trevor reached the top of the stairs, he saw one of his men get shot seventeen times by some assault rifle. Bleeding profusely, the man fell down the stairs but not without saying "You're a fucking asshole, Trev!" Trevor ignored this man as well, but not the gunner camping at the back of the next room so he took out his Grenade Launcher, poked the barrel out just enough and fired at where he presumed the gunner was. The loud BOOM completely obliterated the overturned table the gunner was hiding behind and blew a hole in the side of the building. The remaining pieces of the gunner rained down in meaty chunks all over the road. Trevor laughed as he dual wielded the Grenade Launcher and Heavy Shotgun and walked up the stairs. He reached the top floor and saw a mass line-up of meth making tables and equipment. Trevor's eyes bulged at the glorious sight of all the Crystal Methamphetamine there. He was so excited that he nearly ejaculated violently all over his pants. He gazed in a comatose like state at the wondrous sight of the production floor. He almost didn't even notice the mercenaries initiate the ambush and fire at him after swinging out of cover.
Trevor immediately snapped out of his trance and started firing both his weapons without control. The gunfire lasted almost twenty complete seconds when everything fell silent. After the dust lifted, Trevor saw that his blind rage had nearly destroyed the entire fourth floor. He was so amazed at himself that he didn't even realise the one mercenary lying on the ground with an Assault SMG. He fired at Trevor, hitting him in both his legs and forcing him to jump out the window behind him to escape death. Trevor landed hard on the pavement with a thud and a grunt. He must have broken his leg and arm, don't forget the three bullets in his lower legs. Feeling like he couldn't go on, he took out his radio and said "That's it. Blow the fucking joint to bits!" His men did as they were told and soon after, a massive explosion erupted from Stanley's meth lab. It annihilated the entire building and not without hitting Trevor with some debris after he took cover behind a fence.
Stanley limped across the road, bleeding profusely. He had managed to escape the torture room by reaching the tool trolley Ron left behind and using a paring knife to cut through his binds. There weren't enough bandages for all his wounds. Stanley kept walking straight along the middle of the road and he wouldn't stop until he reached his meth lab. His vision was obscured by the mild sandstorm going on outside and he wasn't able to see much in front of him, except for the headlights coming straight at him. Stanley raised his Combat Pistol (which he retrieved) and aimed it at the incoming truck. It was a Canis Bodhi, and Trevor was driving it. Stanley shot at it and Trevor, who couldn't afford to get hit again, spun the steering wheel so hard that it swerved the truck into a tree. Trevor fell out and saw Stanley pointing his Combat Pistol at his head. "You were saying about not letting the tables turn again?" said Stanley as he held the handgun shakily with his good arm. Trevor smiled and said "Then do it. I've lived a good life anyway." Stanley looked tensely at Trevor and said "You know what I found before I left with my army to kill you that day? A pregnancy test in the trash, and it was positive." Trevor fell silent as Stanley continued "So you kidnapped, drugged, raped, killed and dumped my pregnant wife." Trevor felt apologetic for the first time in twenty years. It discouraged him to give the order to the sniper, but not enough. The sniper fired and the bullet zoomed through the sandstorm and into Stanley's side and through his abdomen. All of this achieved possible with a constantly online radio communicator and a thermal scope. Stanley fell to his knees and collapsed on the road. Trevor picked up his Combat Pistol and aimed it at him. He said "Y'know, you're the first person I spared in twenty years" and walked away. Stanley didn't think that he was so lucky. His pregnant wife was brutally killed, his meth empire was gone and he was left for dead. He would rather have died.
January 2014, Los Santos
Stanley 'Clip' Collins got what he wanted for Christmas. A brand new Hydra jet. The feel of it was exhilarating. This was the final piece of his plan to get back at Trevor Phillips for what he did to his life six years ago. Stanley had finally gathered up enough money and resources to be able to take down Trevor once and for all. He should have killed him all those years ago. Stanley drove his Armoured Karin Kuruma towards the airport where he had his own personal hangar for his own personal jet. The guards welcomed him and opened the gates. Stanley smiled, knowing that this was going to be a good day, and drove on. His black combat stealth top allowed him to take more than average damage, but this was going to be covered up by the Explosive Ordinance Disposal (EOD) armour he had stashed at his Sandy Shores hideout if the jet attack goes wrong. The EOD suit was stashed in a locked underground bunker along with every single weapon Ammu-nation carries. If the ground plan doesn't work out either, Stanley had an air strike aimed at Trevor's trailer as a last resort. Stanley drove up to the hanger which had its doors automatically open for him. He stared at the magnificent jet and got in. The dials weren't confusing anymore since Stanley had plenty of practice. He had made sure that it was full on fuel, bullets and missiles. After flicking on a few switches and putting on his flight helmet, he took off. The slow acceleration was compensated by the lightning fast top speed. He set his course for Trevor Phillip's Trailer out in Sandy Shores.
Six years ago, Sandy Shores
Stanley was left dying out on the open road. Blood was everywhere, and most of it wasn't even his. Behind him lied a maze of dismembered limbs, torn flesh and eviscerated organs; all covered with a heavy splash of blood. Stanley struggled to move. Every action he took hurt. He stared at the sniper bullet lodged in the road just behind him. It has passed straight through him. The ambulances should have been here ages ago. Trevor must have bribed them to keep quiet. Funny. Stanley would have done the same thing. Trevor had walked away minutes ago but Stanley now heard a loud engine come from behind him. The mild sandstorm was clearing out now and Stanley could make out the shape of an Overflod Entity XF. The car slowed down and stopped right beside Stanley. A man in a striped red jacket got out and put out his hand towards Stanley.
Stanley looked up and smiled. Without having any other choice, got into the Entity with Nathan. Stanley was taken to a specialised treatment centre since hospitals would have known who he was and he would have been too vulnerable there. His wounds were gradually healed and the two planned on taking down Trevor together for months until an incident happened. Nathan never spoke of it since and had stopped plotting revenge on Trevor as well. Stanley stayed with him until the end of the 2013 Prison Break Heist in which he knew that he had to take down Trevor by himself. He abandoned the heist crew and decided to make the final amount of money he needed by partnering with Rashkovsky, a certain criminal who wanted revenge. After getting what he needed, he was all ready to plan out the final strike on Trevor's trailer and his own separate meth lab. By 2014, Trevor was rolling in money ever since he hit the Union Depository but was still making and selling Methamphetamine since he enjoyed the thrill of it. Trevor's fortune must have been used on upgrading his meth lab and weaponry, although Stanley was ready for it. Trevor has been preparing for war all this time. He better have an extremely strong defence or a secret plan if his building were to stand a Hydra attack.
Stanley flew the Hydra fast. He wanted a quick strike on the meth lab then a final assault on the trailer. He saw the meth lab in his sights and turned towards it. He armed the Hydra's missiles and its explosive cannon. He locked on to the meth lab and fired. The missiles came first and went soaring towards the run-down building. They collided, and the building exploded in a massive ball of flame. Stanley had never been so happy to see an explosion in his life. All that remained of the flaming wreckage was some debris on the other side of the torn building. Stanley sped up again and turned the Hydra to face Trevor's trailer. He was still too far though since he decided that he was going to use the explosive cannon this time. The Hydra sped ahead and just as it neared the Trailer, Stanley switched the Hydra into hover mode. This made aiming so much easier since he was now in range of the Trailer. "Goodbye, you rapist motherfucker" said Stanley as he clicked the cannon's trigger. Just as he did so however, Trevor appeared from a building behind his Trailer and fired a homing missile at Stanley after having the time to lock on undetected.
Stanley was able to witness the explosive cannon rip Trevor's trailer in half before he was forced to eject from the Hydra. What a shame. Luckily Stanley planned for this and was able to parachute into some bushes a block away. This was close to where he had stashed his weapons. He found the bunker entrance, opened the latch and looked at the guns and armour. Luckily it hadn't been stolen. He put on the EOD suit quickly and took a minigun. This was going to be the end of Trevor Philips. The heavy climb back up was slower due to the armour but Stanley managed to do it without using too much strength. As soon as he stepped out however, he saw the proximity mine at his feet beep rapidly. Stanley only had enough time to turn his back on it before it exploded. If it wasn't for the EOD suit, both of his legs would have been obliterated. Just as Stanley stood up to recover, Trevor, from the roof of the store in front of him yelled "Now!" and meth-heads all around Stanley pulled out their guns and fired non-stop at him. The EOD armour was taking a huge amount of damage but absorbing more. Stanley spun up the minigun and sprayed it across every single enemy he could see.
Trevor panicked and ran off but Stanley wasn't going to let that happen. He chased after Trevor while still in his EOD suit. He wasn't going to take it off since he didn't want to risk failing again. Trevor headed across the railroad tracks which was the last place Stanley got a good view of him before he disappeared over the hill. Stanley ran at him as fast as he could. He had to drop his minigun because it slowed him down immensely. The suit drank down his stamina fast but Stanley had to keep going. After he made it over the tracks, he saw Trevor make a turn for the Sandy Shores Airfield. "He must have some kind of escape aircraft waiting for him" thought Stanley. After a minute or so, Stanley finally managed to reach the Sandy Shores airfield. He pulled out the Bullpup Rifle on his back which was surprisingly not damaged by the gunfire he previously encountered. Stanley looked around but saw nothing. Suddenly, an RPG came flying at him out of nowhere. It hit his suit and exploded on impact. That was the last of the damage the suit could take. The front was completely torn apart and all other pieces were so damaged that they were worthless. An extremely stunned Stanley felt around for his Combat Pistol. It must have been destroyed in the explosion. Luckily he could see his Bullpup Rifle a couple metres away through the mostly transparent EOD helmet which he left on. Ditching the rest of the armour, he made a run for his rifle. He grabbed it, sat by the rusty hangar and waited. Soon, an enraged Trevor ran out with his Combat M-G and started shooting at Stanley, who did the same. The Combat MG jammed just as Stanley ran out of ammo. Both of them had many bullet holes in their bodies. They were weak and dying. Trevor dropped his MG and took out his Pistol.50. Stanley was helpless, at least he thought so when a familiar face appeared far behind Trevor. It was Nathan, and he had a RPG. This was Stanley's only chance so he yelled as loud as he could "Do It!" Trevor said "Gladly" just as the RPG fired.
Nathan's aim was a bit off. The RPG hit the large green fuel tank to the right of the two. This caused a massive explosion in which Trevor took most of the fire damage while Stanley took most of the shrapnel damage. Trevor, in flames, screamed as he ran off while Stanley sat still by the hangar. Nathan came running up to him only to see that much of his left leg had been torn open as well as his left side. Not even his Combat Stealth Armour could protect him from the explosion. There was so much blood. Nathan could even see Stanley's bloody ribs protruding out. The flesh and blood was everywhere and pieces of shrapnel were stuck all over Stanley's body, including a large piece of the fuel tank lodged in his arm. A large shard of metal had been flung into Stanley's head, just missing his temple. Blood gushed out from his wounds. Stanley moved his head up as much as he could to look at Nathan. "Did we get him?" he asked. Nathan replied "Yeah man. We did." Stanley smiled and looked down. "Good. Then shoot me, because this bloody hurts. I would rather it was you than anyone else. Take my rifle. There should be a mag or two in my pocket." Nathan reluctantly agreed. He took Stanley's Bullpup Rifle and loaded it with a fresh magazine. He put it against Stanley's head but stopped. He was already dead. Nathan let go of the rifle and collapsed. His friend for such a long time had just died before him. He sacrificed his wellbeing just to take down Trevor. At least Trevor was dead. Probably with his face in the sand as the fire engulfed his corpse. Gasoline isn't easy to put out. This relieved Nathan as he went to bury Stanley's mutilated body.
Nathan couldn't do it. The loss of one of his dearest friends was also the loss of all his strength. Feeling an overwhelmingly strong urge to just lie down, Nathan sighed and sat beside the recently deceased Stanley, but only one of the three people in the vicinity were dead however. A yell boomed from the other side of the hangar and around it came a flaming Trevor, both in literal fire and fury, he lumbered towards a drained Nathan who looked back in horror. Knowing that to end it, he has to finish Trevor, Nathan grabbed the Special Carbine with intention to kill once again and pointed it at Trevor. Squeezing the trigger as hard as he could, the gun wouldn't fire. The fear started to catch up to Nathan as he got to his feet. Unloading the magazine, he saw that the bullets were all covered in blood, rendering the firearm incapable of firing the projectiles Nathan so desperately needed to finish Stanley's one goal. But then again, maybe he didn't need the gun.
Trevor screamed louder as the burning intensified. He collapsed to his knees and stared at Nathan with pure rage. Now was when the sirens finally sounded. Blue and red flashed in the distance. Shootouts and explosions were going to attract attention eventually. Trevor was finished, but so was Stanley. Nathan decided that the best thing for him to do now was to flee the scene. Despite hating himself for not being able to bury Stanley, he knew that he couldn't stay to be arrested. And so he ran, across and out of Sandy Shores Airfield. Nathan thought that his job was finished and his life of crime would come to a stop. Retiring wouldn't be so bad at this point. Enough blood has been shed but his mission had been accomplished. Trevor was gone and his meth empire destroyed. What remains of his forces would be taken into custody or shot dead. Nathan retreated in confidence that this was the end of it all.
The FIB building was silent. Other that the repetitive click clack of typing, very little conversation was uttered. This was after all the work room. Detective David Mannis sat at his desk staring deeply into the case photos. Los Santos was a dangerous city and many have died trying in their futile attempts to make it a better place. David had experienced loss before. After having lost his wife in a tragic accident nine years ago, David succumbed to the realms of alcohol and a pessimistic take on the world. Accepting that he can't change it, he works only for himself and very little times has he seen hope in the world. As cynical as he any other detective, David knew that he had himself at a dead end. Entering his late forties, David did what he can with the remaining time he had as an active man of the law. With dull investigations that often make him sleep more often than solve, David regarded the workplace as a nightmarish place where dreams come to die.
The case photos on his monitor stared back at him ruthlessly, taunting him with yet another stack of paperwork to be done. Scrolling down the images, he sees one that make him raise an eyebrow. "Trevor Phillips, Deceased, Main Suspect of Blaine County shooting", but what was below it caught his attention even more. "Stanley 'Clip' Collins, Deceased, Suspect of Blaine County shooting". The photo was of a burnt Trevor lying on the sand shortly after the police arrived and put the fire out. Trevor had angered a lot of people over the past decade and David was one of them. Despite it calling Trevor dead, David knew that it was just a cover. People like Trevor always were. After years of forcing him out of his memory, David decided to take this case for himself and investigate the scene, with a little personal matter to be fixed at the end. His history with Trevor was more than enough to encourage him to take this opportunity to strike while he was at his weakest. As a high ranking detective, David had earned the respect of the precinct and nobody would ask twice if he wanted to take on a specific case. This however was the one time they should have as David only had one intention on his mind: to kill.
A long drive to Sandy Shores Airfield allowed him to think about his plan. After having several cups of coffee, David finally arrived. The scene was as bad as the other officers described it. A bloody mess. A large pool of blood still stained the area where Stanley was seated. Taking his time to ensure his ulterior motive remains hidden, David sticks by the book and looks around. Pen and notebook out, David carefully looked over the scene. Footprints indicate that there might have been a third person involved, but this was not what interested him. Trevor was definitely here and David could taste the vengeance on his tongue. With an alibi of investigating the crime scene, David set off for Sandy Shores Medical Centre. It was a short drive and David expected Trevor to be inside. Tipping down his fedora to cover his face, he walked into the hospital avoiding any potential detection from the sheriff's station next door. He needed to know where they were keeping Trevor but he couldn't wave his badge around.
Knowing that the reception desk wouldn't disclose that kind of information to the general public, David snuck off by himself. Taking a slight peek into each room as he walked, David strolled quickly across the first area until he saw a lone police officer outside a room. He walked up and peeked inside. Sure enough, a heavily bandaged man lied in the bed. This couldn't be anyone else but Trevor. The police officer looked at David and asked "May I help you, sir?" to which David replied "let me in or else you will be surprised to find my gravity knife stuck three inches down your neck." This was a very poor choice of a threat as the officer yelled out immediately, forcing David to knock him down and break into the room. With his pistol pulled out, David pushed his way to the bed and fired all twelve shots into Trevor Philips.
Five Minutes Ago
For too many times in his life, Stanley had seen the bright white light call out to him. And it was getting more agonising to turn his back to it. Comfort and peace were waiting for him if only he had accepted the generous offer but Stanley resisted one final time. He knew that next time he wouldn't even see a light. It was painful and tiring to push his way back into the land of the living and his eyes opened once again. The only reason he rejected the offer was to rub it in Trevor's face that he had won and that he was alive and Trevor wasn't. The nurse walked in at about the same time he woke. "You're awake. I'll get the doctor" she said as she walked out just as quickly as she came in. Stanley couldn't move. He wanted her to stay but then he saw the policeman outside his door and all the horrors came back to him. Back into the harsh reality, Stanley was regretting his life choices, especially about the one ending it. From what little he could see and feel, Stanley noted that much of his body was bandaged. The surgery that must have took to remove all that shrapnel, Stanley felt much sorrier for the surgeon than himself. He heard the officer outside his door shouting and was worried about his later life. Bolingbroke was not an option for him. He would rather be dead. His rescue heist there made him see enough to know that prison is something worse than death. Suddenly the door bust open and Stanley felt both worry and relief. Nathan rushed to his bedside. "How? I came as soon as I heard!" Stanley however was only concerned about one thing – "Trevor… is he…" "Dead" replied Nathan "And so are you. I used my remaining connections to change your status from wounded to dead. It's official. You can finally live in peace." Stanley looked with a neutral face "Honestly, I think resting in peace would be just as good" He started to laugh but it was cut short as gunshots rang through the air.
Nathan turned immediately to the door and said "This must involve you." He peeked out the door and pulled a running doctor inside the room. Nathan pushed him against a wall and said "You must move this man out of this hospital." The doctor replied fearfully "I can't! He's in critical condition." Nathan stared him down but got nothing out of him. "Fine, then I guess I'll have to do it myself." He pulled out the AP Pistol he so desperately wanted to leave behind and readied it. Whoever's doing that shooting, he won't come near you. As Nathan prepared to shoot anyone he deems a threat, David climbs out the window of Trevor's room and walks back to the front of the medical centre. Holstering his weapon, he sinks back into society unnoticed. Meanwhile, the real Trevor laughs in his safehouse as he is notified of the killing of his body double.
Two Weeks Later
Stanley sat up for the first time in two weeks. Doctors came and went. Extensive surgery was required but overall, no limbs were lost. This was a good thing. A full recovery however was quite out of the question. After being safely transferred to Central Los Santos Medical Centre, Stanley still didn't have peace. Police came in and out, questioning him thoroughly. Stanley knew that they were going to take him to jail after he recovered by Nathan wasn't going to let that happen. Driving up to the hospital in his Bravado Buffalo S, Nathan brought along some Egochaser bars and a silenced Combat Pistol. He had waited long enough. The police could decide to take him to the slammer any time now. Despite knowing that Stanley himself wasn't too happy with this illegal escape, Nathan felt like it was his obligation to save him for the friendship they had. "For old times' sake" he said to Stanley as he shot the officers outside Stanley's new room. Stanley looked on, shocked. "That's a bit extreme, don't you think?" Nathan pushed Stanley's out of his room while replying "After what happened with Trevor, nothings too extreme." He hands Stanley the Combat Pistol and said "You shoot, ill push."
Stanley reluctantly agreed. "Get ready Clip, we're going home" said Nathan as he sped up and pushed Clip out the front doors. Heading in the direction of a black Declasse Burrito van, Stanley noticed a woman in her late twenties with an Assault Shotgun. "Oh and Clip, meet my wife, Holly." "Hi, Holly" said Stanley as Nathan pushed him into the Burrito. The hospital was on full alert but the cops weren't, not yet anyway. Holly got into the passenger seat and they drove off to Tinsel Towers, Apartment 42. After a lengthy drive and many compliments directed towards Holly, they arrived at Nathan's apartment. "Now we'll only be staying here for a day or two then we move to 140 Zancudo Avenue, another one of my safehouses." Clip who was slightly jealous of Nathan's extensive property ownership commented "I see you put out heist money to good use." Nathan replied "Oh no, that's not what I spent my cut on. This is" as he drove into the garage. Stanley's eyes widened as he saw the sight of the magnificent formula red Progen T20. "No fucking way…" he uttered as Nathan said "Nice, huh? I got it on sale. Quarter off. I'll get my mechanic to pick up my Buffalo S for me too." As they ascended the elevator, Nathan suddenly became real serious. "Now there's something we need to talk about. It's regarding Trevor. He's not dead."
David Mannis was back in his car. His own personal black Obey Tailgater. With stock body parts but a heavily enhanced engine and military armour components. The criminals won't even know what hit them as they try to look through the pure black windows. David was parked outside the Palmer-Taylor Power Station, doing a stake out on some known associates of Trevor Philips. Waiting to catch them red handed with crystal meth, David had his SMG locked and loaded at his side. And there it was. The deal was going down. Without the leadership of Trevor, the remaining meth-heads loyal to him started a drug trade with the Lost MC or what remains of them. The second David saw the meth, he opened the car door and took cover behind it with his SMG. "Calibre" he said into his radio as two police choppers and four NOOSE vehicles pulled up. This was how a real drug takedown went down. The gangs were completely surrounded and outnumbered, and yet they still resisted. Pulling out their assault rifles and MGs, the gangs immediately started firing upon the law enforcement.
David was waiting for them to do so. This was the part he loved most. He started firing his SMG and one by one, the gang members fell to the ground. This next part however, he did not like as much. From behind his cover, a small army of Trevor's gang and the Lost MC ran. They were stocked up on body armour and RPGs. This was unexpected. They must have set an ambush for the cops. A bullet struck David in the arm, telling him to get back in his bulletproof car and drive away, and that's exactly what he did. David had taken up every Trevor related case to finish any remaining part of him. Getting away from his murder was only the first step. David rolled down the driver's seat window slightly and poked his SMG out, shooting any meth head unfortunate enough to come across the Tailgater of death. "This must be most, if not all of Trevor's army" he thought to himself before calling for backup. Little did he know that the greatest threat to him was still out there, alive and dangerous, and hungry for revenge. Meth and revenge.
Galilee, Blaine County
"This shitfuck of a shithole is worse than my dickriddled trailer!" yelled Trevor as he kicked the dirt road. Ron, Wade and Chef stood there looking at him. "Why the fuckshit do we have to hide in the uterus of Blaine County?!" Chef looked away while Wade eagerly replied "Because the FIB took your trailer?" Trevor walked up to Ron and said angrily "Seized. They seized my trailer. No, they robbed me of my precious home. Yeah. That's better. They took everything that I held dear to me and now I've got nothing!" Wade put his hand up and said "Wait, what about the union depository money?" Trevor walked back to Wade and punched him in the face, sending him tumbling into the dirt. "Did you forget that I spent all that on my loyal militia and my royal meth?!" Trevor shouted at a downed Wade. "Don't forget about all the hookers" said Ron. Trevor turned to him and shouted "Fuck you, Ron! Fuck you and your sexual misconduct! I even asked if you wanted a hooker but no…, you made her run out with your fucking weirdness!" Ron, now angry said "She ran out because of my small- " Ron choked up. Trevor laughed and commented "Yeah I remember that time in Floyd's house. It wasn't very fun. You two are both fucktarts! Chef's the only true friend I've got" Trevor said as he engaged in a tearful hug with Chef who just went along with it.
"Chef, how much more meth can we make?" Asked a suddenly gleeful Trevor. Chef replied "I think we should take care of a certain competitor first…" Trevor, now confused asked "Competitor? I killed Stanny the pussface and the rest are tinier than Ron's junk!" Ron reluctantly said "Well, about Stanley…" This was enough to induce rage into Trevor. "Stan's not dead!?" yelled Trevor as he pulled Ron over to the lake. "He's at central Los Santos Medical C-" This drove Trevor more insane than he already was. He head-butted Ron into the water and said to Chef "get my truck, we are going to fuck this motherfucker up for the last time!" "Right away" said Chef as he ran for Trevor's Bodhi. Wade knew what to do and followed Trevor to retrieve the remaining arsenal of guns and explosives they had left. Chef pulled up and the gang tossed all the guns they could find into the back. "Trevor helped Ron out of the water and into the back of the truck. "Ron, I apologise for the comment about your penis. The time we spent together was… acceptable." Ron considered this a victory. "And Wade, you were right about my money from the heist. I had saved up a little to bring Stanley an extra surprise. You see, Warstock owes me a favour and I cashed it in. Big time. When we get to Los Santos, I'll call it in. This time, we bring the war to Stanny boy, and boy will he be surprised. I can't wait to see the look on his face when he's looking down the barrel of a Rhino. Trevor laughed manically as the four drove off one last time.
Central Los Santos
The streets were quiet. It was as expected when Trevor and his gang rolled up. Packing major heat and sporting massive rifles, they hopped off the Bodhi and walked calmly up to the entrance of the Central Los Santos Medical Centre, were they thought Stanley was. With their assault rifles held up high, they barged in through the automatic doors and shot the receptionist immediately. Trevor growled in rage as he opened fire on the rest of the civilians there. "Now I don't usually do this sort of thing" he said cheerfully, "but there's one man in here that needs to die, and if he doesn't, all of you do. So get on it. Stanley Collins. You have three minutes to get him to me." The surviving nurses and hospital staff ran upstairs, half to look for Stanley and the other half were just trying to cowardly escape. Trevor pointed his Assault Rifle at a nurse and said "not you, fuckdypops." The nurse hesitantly turned around to face the maniacal Trevor. "There's a reason why I said three minutes." The nurse gulped as Trevor unbuckled his pants. Two young children, a brother and sister were hiding behind the plastic waiting chairs as they watched their aunt get brutally anally assaulted during their visit to her. They started crying, and the noise was putting off Trevor's mojo. "Shut those dirtfucks up! I want to release in peace!" commanded Trevor. Wade took out his Machine Pistol and said "Like this?" as he put the gun to the boy's head and fired. "Yes, but don't kill the girl!" yelled Trevor. "I like them squirmy." The nurse yelled out in both agony and suffering as she knew she was about to watch her seven year old niece get penetrated by an insane meth maniac.
Trevor was in a good mood. He let the pleasures take over as he finished in just under two and a half minutes. "Ahh… that was some good old fashioned insertion" he said as he grabbed Chef's Sawed off Shotgun and shot the nurse in both her knees. "I don't want her to be a bother while I'm doing the girl" he said as he walked towards the young girl. Wade looked eagerly at the nurse as his natural urges came sprinting back. He cried out as he ripped the nurse's top off and pulled down his pants. Looking back, Trevor said to the nurse "If it helps, you can imagine it's me that's doing you. Don't worry. He'll be gentle. At least for the first twenty seconds. For the second and final twenty seconds, it's gonna get a bit rough." Trevor laughed as he pulled down the seven year old's skirt and underwear. Five minutes later, Trevor was lying exhausted on top of the girl, breathing heavily. He rubbed his wet dick off on her moist pink shirt. The doctors had come down three minutes ago to bring him the news of Stanley's disappearance. When Trevor was informed of this news, he left the building, saying nothing but "castrate the men and deovulate the women" as he set out for his next lead on Stanley.
David Mannis responded to the call as soon as he heard. If that man he shot at the Sandy Shores Medical Centre wasn't Trevor, then who was he?, and why did Trevor need so much protection? The sleek metallic black of the Tailgater shined as David drove back to Los Santos, way over the speed limit. David had stopped at a local diner after the power station shootout when he heard about the attack on Central Los Santos. "Could the power station have been a diversion?" David though, "but the effect of it must have been little since it was so far away." He continued driving, trying not to overthink the situation. He was going to find Trevor Phillips and shove a screwdriver into each body part he holds dear. The Tailgater was nearing top speed as David drove past the Vinewood sign. David was so focused on getting to that hospital that he barely felt the elderly woman get hit by the car. David was only kind of drunk. He thought about that as he violated the road safety regulations. By the time he reached the hospital, it was all too late. Bodies were everywhere in the wake of Trevor's vengeance.
David looked at all the death and destruction Trevor had caused and decided that he cannot be dealt with by the conventional justice system. It was already personal years back, but now Trevor was destroying his city instead of his family. David asked around for a couple of minutes before going to Ammunation to buy a machete. Cold, sharp steel. David had enough information to track down Trevor, but first, he had to find an old friend. Stanley was not dead, and David knew all about this accomplice he had. Nathan Woods, an old rookie officer. Fired almost as soon as he joined when his small weed distribution system was discovered. That turned him into a full time criminal with police knowledge. A strong adversary, but not strong enough. David searched up files on the police computer, quickly learning that he had a safehouse purchased a couple years back in case the law found him again. Nathan's apartment was too exposed. Temporary. David knew this well. Nathan had many safehouses, but David was sure that this was the one due to the constant maintenance and electricity support. Trevor was coming for Stanley. David learnt this quickly. And so to get Trevor, he just had to beat him to his destination. Dusk was coming upon them. David alerted units to 0112 South Rockford Drive as he prepared for his final assault. This was when all the lights went out.
"What do you mean not dead? I saw the tank explode in his face. I saw him catch fire! Even if he did survive, he would have like burns, right? But he doesn't" said Stanley. "Must have been a double" said Nathan while Stanley exhaled and sat back onto the seat of the Buffalo S. Minutes later, he interrupted the silence and said "I heard Trevor's forces got hit by the Palmer-Taylor Power Station." Nathan replied "Yeah. It must have be-" Nathan cut off by the streets plunging into darkness. He swerved hard but came to a stop safely. "What the fuck?" interrupted Stanley. "They must have had charges on the facility and control over Los Santos' grid." Nathan replied. "What are they planning? "To kill you." Nathan continued driving to the safe house. It wasn't long now. "Don't worry. I got a plan. I just didn't think he was going to attack so early" commented Nathan. Stanley watched outside as he saw gang members being attacked by another gang. The citizens of Los Santos were terrified, and running.
"This is starting to become a riot" Stanley said. "Maybe that's what Trevor wanted" replied Nathan. They pulled up to 0112 South Rockford Drive and drove into the garage. "Now we got food, water but most importantly, firepower" said Nathan as he got out of the car and pulled the sheet off of a crate. Inside the crate were Advanced Rifles, Assault SMGs and a shit ton of RPGs. There was body armour tucked away beneath it, and they were going to need all that they can get. Nathan said "Don't worry. I've got a lot more firepower that just this. I called some of my Heist connections and told them that we've got a chance to dominate the business. They agreed straight away as soon as they heard about the chance to smash Trevor's face in, and the five-hundred grand bounty on him. Also, mentioning that you were alive helped too. They seem to be really willing to fight for you." "I try to be a nice person" replied Stanley. "They'll be parachuting in from a Titan halo jump as soon as I give the order" said Nathan. Stanley had no words other than "come at me, Trev." Little did they know that Trevor had gained massive amounts of gang supporters and an army bigger that the local population at Fort Zancudo. Nor did they think about David Mannis and half the Los Santos police and NOOSE force coming to crash their party. This will all end soon.
Stanley peeked out the window. Lights loomed in the distance, cutting through the blackness of the power outage. The fiery lights grew closer slowly but closer nonetheless. "What do you think?" asked Stanley. "Trevor" replied Nathan. This worried Stanley. Trevor knew that Stanley was the biggest threat to him, and he had no mercy left. This will all end tonight and only one will emerge alive. "So we have ten support soldiers and us? We don't stand a chance!" said Stanley. Nathan corrected him "nine, minus the pilot." "Trevor must have over a hundred men marching at this very house! There is no way in hell that we'll survive this." The flaming torches drew closer and Stanley was able to make out the army that was about to attack him. And there he was, the man himself. Trevor Philips. Still wearing his signature dirty white shirt. He looked confident. Too confident. His army wasn't wearing any armour, but that would make little difference to the battle. Nearing two hundred in their numbers, they emerged from the bushes, trees and rooftops, further showing their vast mass of numbers. They weren't more than two hundred metres out. Snipers must be set up. Stanley looked at Nathan. Both were scared. They just couldn't show it.
They put on what armour was left. EOD suits, like the one Stanley wore during his last attempt to kill Trevor. "Is it just me, or am I getting a slight feeling of Déjà vu here?" he asked Nathan, who replied "It's not just you whose wearing it this time. There's me, and our air support." Trevor's army was nearing fifty metres when they started setting up positions. Stanley gripped his Bullpup Rifle with extended mag, rifle sight and laser sight as he asked "air support – you mean the guys dropping from the Titan, right?" Nathan smiled as he said into the radio "Bring in the Valkyrie." Stanley laughed, but that laugh was short lived as Trevor interrupted it with his megaphone. "Surrender now, and I will give you a slightly quicker death" said Trevor. Stanley had no intention of taking up his offer. Instead, he steadied his rifle on the window frame and fired twelve shots into Trevor Philips. It was enough to slow him down. Enough to call the support troops and the Valkyrie into attack, as well as to detonate the sticky bombs they had set up in front of the house. At this one instant, gunfire, explosions and screaming erupted everywhere. It was also at this instant that the police and NOOSE forces stepped in. Turing on the lights of their cars and helicopters, Trevor realised how the police forces managed to slip in within his ranks. The red and blue lights flashed everywhere, and surrounded the two oppositions, but neither Trevor nor Stanley was going down without a fight. And so they all fired upon each other.
The Valkyrie lurched into battle. Both miniguns firing at full speed, and the explosive cannon wiping out any cop car or militia technical it shot at. It was a force to be reckoned with. There was no better time for this for Trevor to play his card, and his Rhino came storming through the crowd. Running over cop car and civilian alike, the Rhino decimated everything in its path as it aimed directly at the safehouse. "Where the fuck did he get a tank?!" yelled Stanley as he and Nathan retreated further into the house. Their halo jumpers arrived by surprise. By wielding Combat PDWs, they silently slipped passed the Trevor's army and the police force, all the while killing a lot of them both. With a silenced gun that had little to no muzzle flash and no lights on their suits or the Titan, they went in undetected, massively thinning out the numbers of both Trevor's army and the cops. With a force of only one and a half hundred members, the LSPD and NOOSE forces were forced to pull out their surprise weapon. Five Insurgent Pick Ups rushed through the streets, easily reaching the doorsteps of the safehouse. The Valkyrie was lasting a long time due to the lack of homing launchers brought in by Trevor's army or the cops. It took out an Insurgent and two police choppers as well as over forty of Trevor's foot soldiers. This however, was the point in which a lucky RPG shot manages to hit the tail rotor of the Valkyrie. It lost control and crashed into the canals. Trevor's Rhino took out yet another Insurgent but when Nathan's support forces landed, they pulled out their grenade launchers. This led to the destruction of a third Insurgent and minor damage to the Rhino. The safehouse was not holding up so well, and the second floor was definitely not an option. Stanley and Nathan continued firing from cover. They knew that the Rhino was the biggest threat to them right now. Stanley knew this and took and RPG to the second floor. If the Rhino didn't see him, it probably won't shoot at him, so Stanley went prone and crawled towards the gaping hole in the second storey wall. One well-placed RPG shot would weaken the Rhino to the point of near destruction. He took aim, but at the same time, a police sniper spotted him. He fired from his chopper position the same time Stanley took the shot. He cried out in pain, but the RPG hit. He should have been able to run away quickly but the sniper shot tore right through the armour, leaving a medium sized hole in his leg. The Rhino had enough time to react and fire at Stanley just before the support troops dealt the final blow to it.
The second storey of 0112 South Rockford Drive exploded into pieces, and Nathan knew what this meant. He ran up the stairs to find Stanley crawling towards him. "It's not as bad as it looks" he said as Nathan helped him down the stairs. The Rhino tank was finally destroyed and Trevor's forces were too weak. This was the point that Trevor realised that he had lost. With a mere twenty good men left to protect him, Trevor made one last attempt at his goal. A full charge at Stanley. "Shove those balls back into your sacks and let's rush them, ladies!" yelled a determined Trevor. His twenty men followed him into battle. Weak and low on ammo, they charged with Trevor to their doom.
They were cut down immediately by the police and Nathan's support troops. Only five made it inside the house including Trevor. All of them were severely wounded except for a moderately hurt Trevor. Stanley knew that they were inside. He and Nathan went down into the basement. They prepared it in case a situation like this ever occurred. They waited and sure enough, Trevor followed. "Stanley!" he yelled in desperation and anger. "I'm gonna take your organs, feed then to my dog and put the dog shit into your wife's cunt! I'm gonna rip off your scrotum and eat your balls like gummy bears! I'm gonna sip your brains out of your skull and puke it into your unborn child!" Stanley knew Trevor wanted to lure him out with those low insults, but he was smarter than that. Trevor and his Assault Rifle limped into the basement and immediately spotted the proximity mine. "Ha! You didn't think I'd be that stupid, did you?!" laughed Trevor as he shot the mine from a safe distance. "No, but I did think that you'd be this stupid" Stanley replied as he detonated the sticky bomb planted on the roof of the stairs, just above Trevor's men's heads. This killed the middle three, leaving only two and Trevor himself in the wake of the boom.
"Argh!, Stanley you cheeky fucker! You fucktarded bitchshit cunt raper! I will murder you until you die!" Stanley laughed at Trevor's threats. He had made it to the bottom of the stairs and was prepared to face Stanley. "Come out and face me like a man, or are you still even one after your friend blew you up? Who knows, your little self-pleasure machine might be stuck on top of a tree." Overconfident in himself, Stanley, still in his armour, stepped out to meet Trevor despite Nathan's warnings. "Hello, Trevor" said Stanley as Trevor's two men started emptying their mags onto Stanley's EOD suit. "No!" yelled Trevor as he shot both of them. "We are trying to have a conversation here!" At this point, Nathan's support forces were at the top of the stairs, aiming at Trevor, who knew. Knowing that he was completely trapped, and that all that remains of his empire was him alone, he was forced to do the one thing he knew how to do. Kill. He did a forward roll as he threw out two grenades forward and back, giving him the precious seconds required to arm the sticky bombs, throwing one at Nathan and one at Stanley as he leapt off into the corner. Only a few bullets were fired before all the explosions interrupted them.
0112 South Rockford Drive was destroyed. The grenades thrown upstairs had incapacitated if not killed all of the support troops there. Trevor's sticky bombs did the trick. His leap was far enough to take only serious damage from the bombs, not life threatening. Nathan was lying unconscious on the stone floor while Stanley and his shredded armour made a crawl for his rifle. Did Trevor actually do it? Did he survive the impossible? He raised his Assault Rifle at Stanley just as Stanley raised his Bullpup Rifle right back at him. A second or two of hesitation went before they both fired full auto into each other. Now they were both on the ground. Trevor and his reputation for being unkillable was nearing a close. Apparently suffering sixty rounds of assault rifle ammunition at point blank range was too much for him, and as he choked on his final breaths, he took out his Pistol .50, aiming it at Stanley who himself was still alive. He had turned his back when the sticky bomb went off so the front side of his EOD suit was still relatively well armoured.
Although he did not take the sixty Assault Rifle rounds too well. The eventually pierced through the armour and more than twelve bullets had made their mark in Stanley. Trevor was about to fire the finishing shot into Stanley when Nathan rushed out with his Combat PDW to get in the way of the shot, but without his wrecked EOD suit. They shot at each other and Nathan landed dead on the ground with a bullet in his head. And so did Trevor. The final blow was dealt and Stanley lied on the floor, unable to move anything but his head. He looked at his dead friend and his dead enemy as the LSPD came down the stairs. Stanley looked up in surprise as he saw David Mannis take the steps down. They looked at each other intensely until eventually David broke the silence "get this man a medic! He's an old friend."
"Nine" David said as he looked down at Stanley. "What?" "This is the ninth time you've been in hospital due to gunshot." Stanley turned his head to face David "I expected you to be where I am by this time." David only laughed as Stanley continued "How the daughter?" "She's growing up fast" replied David. Stanley went back to looking at the ceiling. "Remember '02, when we took down that drug ring?" he asked. David replied "Sure, Stan." Still staring up, Stanley commented "That day ruined my life. It was the day I first met Trevor Philips." David interrupted "You mean the day we met Trevor Philips." He smiled and said "well, I've got to get back to work" as he stepped up and walked to the door, but before he left, he turned and asked "is there any chance that you'll come back to the force?" Stanley did nothing but smile back.
The Swift flew rapidly towards the horizon. Stanley was on board. "Let's get her back" he said in a hopeful tone. The helicopter continued to make its way north of Paleto Bay. Hannah had been on one of those islands for a year now and despite all the supplies, computers and kitchen appliances he sent her, he knew that she probably won't forgive him. The Swift touched down on the island. The same spot it had always landed in had been dented permanently with all the wheel action. Waves crashed heavily on the shore of the island and pelted it with sea spray. Stanley got out of the chopper and stepped onto the grass. His weekly visits here were nice but living here for the entirety of a year must have been hell. Stanley went up to the custom build cabin and knocked on the door.
"Hannah? It's me. It's time to go home. All that replied was silence. Stanley signalled the Swift pilot to stay put and turn off the engine. Stanley then proceeded to take out his Combat Pistol and unlock the door with his personal key. The door unlocked and he stepped inside. "Hannah?" The living room was empty and the kitchen smelled like pancakes. Stanley searched the wooden cabin further. All the other rooms were empty and so was her bedroom. He heard the slow squelch of muddy footsteps outside. Footsteps of a person trying to be quiet. Stanley shifted to the door and sure enough, there was a person outside. It was now or never. Stanley peeked out from cover only to see Hannah yell "boo!" and laugh afterwards. "Wow. Really? I could have shot you" said a relieved Stanley. "Are we really going home?" asked his wife. "Yeah, Han. We are.
"Merryweather Security Consulting, how may I help you?" "I need to call in my airstrike!" "Okay ma'am, please throw your beacon at the target location. Our P-996 LAZER will respond as soon as possible." The woman hung up the call and took out her green smoke beacon. She peeked out of cover and tossed it out into the middle of the runway. She quickly fell back to behind the hangar door and listened as the P-996 flew down, unleashing hell upon the Tanks and Jets occupying the unfortunate zone. The sweet sound of success. The woman took out her Army tinted Carbine Rifle and fired upon the remaining soldiers in the area. She took off her United States Armed Forces uniform and revealed her Merryweather armour underneath. Her combat vest had the logo spread across the back, identifying her as undercover Merryweather agent. She kept the military fatigues on but took off her cap and replaced it with a full black Merryweather one. Fort Zancudo was a tough place to survive, but luckily for her, she had backup.
Merryweather Savages flew in from above while their Dinghies arrived on the shore beside the base. At the entrance to Fort Zancudo, two Merryweather Insurgent Pick Ups arrived and they crashed their way through the front gates. The Army's defences were still up though, tanks came crashing their way through to take out the insurgents while the bases' remaining masses of troops either got in Buzzards or Mesas. In the air, the Savages were confronted by rising Buzzards and the missiles went flying. Both sides took casualties but eventually, the Buzzards were wiped out. On ground level, the female agent continued her massacre of the army forces. Her and her unstoppable Carbine Rifle shot down many soldiers and drivers. She headed for the ladder outside the hanger and proceeded to climb to the top of it for extraction. At the front gates, Merryweather demolition troops got out of their Insurgents and took cover behind it to hide from the tanks, which fired rapid shells at the armoured vehicles. They couldn't take much more, but the demo troops had their RPGs at the ready. They fired back at the tanks, taking out one of them while one of their own Insurgents exploded into flames.
The Merryweather agents who arrive on the shore ran up the hill to the military base and used oxygen/acetylene torches to cut their way through the fences. They infiltrated the base through the side and spread out across the runway, shooting at any Army Mesa or Barracks that drove past. The Army's own P-996 LAZERs were still ready and both Merryweather troops and Army troops were making a mad dash for them. Whoever gets their hands on them wins air superiority. They shot at each other as they ran for them on the runways. On the roof of the hangar, the woman ran to the front of the top and took a sniping position. Lacking a proper sniper rifle, she resorted to using her scoped Carbine Rifle. She took shots at Army personnel, often succeeding with the kill. She protected her own agents who ran for the jets and secured their positions. On the runway, a Merryweather agent finally made his way to a jet and climbed inside thanks to the help of his guardian angel atop the hangar. He started the jet's engine and accelerated it to take off.
The army had no more Buzzards so all they could hope for was that one of their own soldier makes it to a jet, an event made unlikely by the deadly sniper without a sniper rifle on the hangar roof. At the front entrance, explosions went off left and right. RPGs and tank shots blew apart each other, but eventually the rapid succession of the tanks' cannons tore apart the remaining Insurgent. The tanks then proceeded to finish off the rest of the Merryweather troops unlucky enough to be stuck at the front gate. Now they had to face the Savages. Unaware of the Army's tanks, one of the Savages received a fatal shot to its body. The massive cannon shot tore apart the Savage, destroying it in a shrapnel raining explosion. This however, was the only good that came out of it. The other Savage rotated swiftly and launched a barrage of missiles at the two remaining tanks. The tanks were helpless to stop the onslaught of explosions that followed. Even the toughest vehicle could only take so much. The tanks were brought apart, one then the other, they blew open. But the Army wasn't done yet. Not now. They still had their secret weapon. The weapon that Merryweather had come for. A top secret crate of government funded Railguns. They were kept in the hanger near the end of the runway. And the doors opened. Just like that. But is wasn't Merryweather who opened them. The Army did it themselves, revealing the Hydra hovering inside. Ready for fight or flight.
Behind the nose of the Hydra was the crate of Railguns. This was what Merryweather didn't know. The Hydra hovered out of the hangar while opening fire on the Savages with its twin explosive cannons. The helicopters stood no chance against the wrath of the Army. The choppers went down like flies, shredded into a million pieces at the power of the Hydra. Helicopters might not have stood a chance, but another jet might. The man in the P-996 LAZER did a half outside loop before unleashing his rockets at the Hydra while still upside down. The Hydra, which was still in hover mode backed into the hangar to take cover. The missiles hit the roof of the building and then the Hydra sprung to life with more energy than ever before. It switched into Jet mode while on the ground. It accelerated straight at the LAZER and fired its cannon at it. The LAZER did a barrel roll, narrowly avoiding slaughter. The Hydra however, instead of staying to fight, shot off in the opposite direction.
It was already far away when the Merryweather agents realised their meticulous plan. Corporal Steven Noore, the man in the LAZER jet flew off after the escaping Hydra. It wasn't too late, not yet, but the higher top speed of the escaping jet sure made catching up to it a hard task to accomplish. As the jet chase continued, back at the Los Santos Merryweather base, the operation overseer gloated over the results. "We've taken Fort Zancudo" he said triumphantly. But this celebration was premature. The very weapons they came for were on their way out of their grasp forever. Cpl Noore's voice came through the radio "The guns, they're in the escaping Hydra jet. I'm in pursuit of it, going North-East. Oh and tell Sarah thanks for covering my a-" The overseer cut him off and uttered "shit. Who's the Paleto Bay field operator?" "Lieutenant Collins, sir" replied one of the officers. "Get him on the line." "Yes, sir" The officer dialled a number and soon they were patched through. "Lieutenant Collins, I have a job for you. There's a rough Hydra that's soon going to be flying over your area. There is a critical package on board that Hydra and I want you to secure it." Lt Collins replied "Yes sir, happy to do it" before heading off to the local vehicle pool. The overseer continued "I'm sending you an estimated trajectory of flight. Intercept it and safely secure the package no matter what." "I got it, Captain. Let me just make one call to my husband." Hannah Collins hung up the radio and called Stanley to inform him that she'll be stopping by soon. Stanley and his Paleto Bay vehicle pool were ready. Stocked with many armoured vehicles, tanks, choppers and jets, the couple would have no problem finishing this job.
Stanley stood up from his desk and headed for his collection of killing machines. Passing his arsenal armoury and combat wardrobe, he walked swiftly in the direction of his beloved Hydras. Hannah was already there. She sat on top of one of the grey jets and got in as soon as she saw Stanley. "No need to wait up for me. I'm not old yet." He ran off to his own carbon black painted Hydra jet and they both took off in hover mode at the same time. The second they were high enough, they switched to jet mode and boosted off in the direction of the Army Hydra. "We can't damage the goods so we'll have to force him to land" said Hannah through her headset. "So we hit him with our cannons until he complies" replied Stanley. The two flew off and saw the rogue jet in the distance. It was reaching Paleto forest and they couldn't let him escape this time. "Try and hit the engine once" said Stanley as he waited for the Army Jet to pass them. Both Stanley and his wife were positioned right at the end of Paleto Forest, just in front of what used to be the police station, now Stanley's base of operations.
The Army Jet shot past the two and immediately they followed in pursuit. Han shot first, hitting the rear of the Army Hydra with her explosive cannon. The burst lasted for less than a second, but it was enough to make the rouge jet start smoking heavily. The engine was on fire, and failing. "You gonna leave some for me?" asked Stanley as he leaded the chase to the dying jet. It struggled to maintain its height over the citizens of Paleto Bay, but not even the Army could risk such casualties. The pilot ejected from the jet just as it passed over water and coincidentally towards Hannah's old hideout in the islands. The Army Jet made a heavy splash into the water, ripping off its right wing. Stanley and Hannah switched their VTOLs back into hover mode and proceeded towards the crash site. Stanley patched his radio back through to the overseer. "That crate, it's waterproof, right?" The overseer angrily replied "goddamn it, Stanley. What the fuck have you done now?" "I'll take that as a maybe." Stanley advanced towards the island area to land his jet. The wooden cabin has since been abandoned, with overgrown grass covering the area. Stanley set his jet down on the landing area, now caked with mud and weeds. "Hannah, thanks for the assist but you can got back if you don't want to be here. She took up the offer. Stanley wasn't surprised as she had previously stated in her own words "That place wasn't the worst, but I still wouldn't got back there if I had a choice." Stanley turned off his Hydra and exited it. He walked towards the muddy bank and scouted the crash site. Over his radio came Hannah "I'll go track down the pilot, he must be hiding somewhere in the town." "Roger that. Keep me updated." Stanley moved down to the shore and looked upon the sinking ruins of the destroyed jet.
"Damn it. I hate getting wet" he uttered as he took off his boots and waded into the water. Losing all of his weapons except for his combat knife, he knew that he wouldn't be expecting any heavy resistance. Except for maybe sharks. Stanley dived down into the water and held his breath on his way to the wreck. Some parts sank, others didn't. The nose of the Hydra was well underwater but close enough to the surface so that Stanley didn't have to make too many trips back up for air. He took out his oxygen/acetylene torch and applied its cutting power on the Hydra's nose. Since the jet parts were made to withstand high-velocity travel, Stanley knew that this could take a while. Suddenly, he remembered that he kept rebreathers on him in his inventory. This was something he always forgot until he actually needed it. The one time he actually needed it. Further along his belt of tricks were his pair of night vision goggles, which were surely useless now. Stanley continued to cut the bolts off as Hannah proceeded to chase down the escaping Army pilot. From the air, she could see the streets clearer than anyone else, but even then the Army pilot was nowhere to be seen. She started to look for a parachute, one that had been abandoned. It wasn't until she looked over at Beeker's Garage, the only mod shop in Northern Blaine County, that she spotted the black piece of cloth. She piloted her Hydra over to the tuning shop and set it down in the parking lot. She called for mercenary back-up.
They were always free of charge for her since she was an official Merryweather operative. Back in the water, Stanley and his oxygen/acetylene torch blazed away at the bolts. He was nearly done. The last bolt fell off down into the deep ocean. Stanley swan to the side of the nose and used all his strength to shift off the cap piece. The nose budged, but only slightly. Stanley pushed harder and the nose opened just enough so that he could see the goodies inside. Sure enough, the crate was there. There was no way Stanley was prying the nose open enough to lift the crate out. Instead, he formulated another plan. He swan back to the shore and started to drag his Hydra's winch cable into the ocean. Back on land, Hannah was dealing with a problem of her own. Her mercenaries had arrived but by the time they got there, the army pilot had enough wriggling room to make his way to the other end of the town. As a higher ranking agent of Merryweather, Hannah commanded the mercenaries "spread out across the town. We need the intel off of this guy if we want to take the rest of Blaine County." The mercenaries nodded and fanned out. Some went back in their Merryweather Mesas to go to the other end of the town while the rest spread out on foot.
Stanley brought the hook inside the nose of the Hydra and hooked it on to the crate. He then swan back to shore and dried himself off before putting his boots back on and getting in his Hydra. He started the engine and started to fly up in hover mode. Even over the noise of the engine, Stanley could hear the creaking of the metal below. He could feel the tension on the cable as he pulled the Hydra higher. He saw the nose of the wrecked jet pop up above the water for a split second before it completely ripped open and the weapons crate flew out. It dangled high up in the air for a short while before settling down at the bottom of the winch. Stanley smiled and reported to the overseer "package secure." "Good work, son. Take the package over to our base and we'll take it from there. It was wrong of me to underestimate you." "Yes sir" replied Stanley as he changed course for the Merryweather Los Santos base of operations. Back in Paleto Bay, Hannah was still having trouble tracking down the pilot. She and the twelve mercenaries under her command had little luck playing hide and seek with the military soldier. Just when she thought that her luck ran out, she stopped a visibly frightened shopkeeper in a convenience store.
This convenience store had only just recently opened and already it looks as if it's been robbed. Only it wasn't. It looked just as much a robbery as it did a military officer threating to kill the shopkeeper if he didn't let him hide. Hannah drew her Combat Pistol and much like Stanley, it had a Silencer on it. Unlike Stanley, it also possessed a tactical flashlight which he deemed 'unnecessary.' Hannah made a 'ssh' gesture to the shopkeeper as she proceeded into the back of the store. There was heavy breathing coming from the back of it. Hannah turned into the room swiftly and saw a man in fatigues with a gun. He raised it to shoot her but was stopped when Hannah kneecapped him. The man's gun went off, hitting the wall behind Hannah who in turn shot him in the hand. She looked down at him. He was indeed wearing an army uniform but other than that, he looked nothing like a soldier. In fact, he looked more like a homeless man who was given free clothes and a gun. Hannah spotted the ruse, took the man's gun and ran off into the street. It was too late. The Army pilot had escaped and now the entire United States Armed Forces were about to be warned about Merryweather's betrayal.
Downtown Los Santos, June 2014
"You have a very good record, Stanley. I'm not surprised that you would want this job." Stanley nodded. "That's just a scratch on the surface, sergeant." The sergeant interviewing Stanley was impressed. "Given your stated history of being in the police force and strong anti-drug views, I think I have just the position for you. You've made a good choice here with us at Merryweather. We're not like what people think we are. We do care, and we do serve. I am proud to say that you're hired, but before you go, I have a few more questions." "Go ahead." "You stated before that you tried seeking a position with the military, why is it that you chose us over them?" "Well sir, after a short tour of the tasks the people there were up to, I decided that the job wasn't for me. I was offered a good position there but I felt that siding with Merryweather would help the people more." The sergeant smiled and nodded. "Now that's the kind of answer I like to hear. Another question: It seems as though that you and your wife are doing quite well financially. Do you have any plans to move to better fit your job? Because it's going to be a long drive each day for you to effectively work your role." Stanley thought for a while and responded "maybe, I might look for a quieter place up in Paleto Bay. I heard that there are a few good combat training places there. Might take the wife there sometime, because you know, ever since the incident Hannah's been acting pretty tense. A bit of paranoia too. I think some work might be good for her instead of standing on top of our house with high powered binoculars."
They both laughed a bit before they shook hands and Stanley was sent off to his new job. In less than a month, Stanley had already outworked everyone else in his position and was moved into a more 'practical' role. Before long, he proved to be one of Merryweather's most invaluable agents and was given his own base of operations in Paleto Bay. Hannah also rose up the ranks with her dedication in training and thriving to be a better soldier. After the Law Enforcement Merging act of 2015, Merryweather had decided in secret to control Blaine County from behind the curtains. They did a silent takeover on the local police station, eventually giving it to Stanley as his base. With a gradually more devious plan unfolding, Merryweather knew that they were powerful enough to control all of Blaine County, than Los Santos County and finally, the city. Stanley and Hannah both had their worrying fears that they had joined the wrong organisation, but they couldn't risk making an enemy as powerful as Merryweather is now. In February 2016, Merryweather launched an attack on Fort Zancudo, the United States Armed Forces military stronghold in Los Santos. By knocking out communications, they were able to annex the base without the rest of the USAF learning about it. This however only proved temporary as a lone Army pilot was about to escape and leak the plans of Merryweather's scheme…
Merryweather Overseer Base, Present Day
"With his Hydra shot down, that Army Pilot has no direct means of travel to the bases outside this State. We've locked down all airfields in Blaine County but then again, our demise could be made possible by something as small as a phone call. That is why we have disabled communication towers across the County. The citizens of Blaine County might not get cellular reception for the day, but they will be protected by us in the future. So here's what we know. There are two military communications outposts in Blaine County so chances are that the pilot would be heading there. One of them's in the middle of the desert near Sandy Shores. We've already sent five tactical teams there so here's where you guys come in. The other outpost is in the middle of the Raton Canyon forest. It was recently build so expect heightened security. Stanley, I want you, your wife and six strike teams to neutralize that position. Capture or kill the pilot. Either way's fine now. We can't risk this anymore." Stanley and Hannah nodded at the overseer. "We'll get it done." The overseer added "Now you won't have time to drive back to your vehicle armoury so you'll have to gear up here and take our Valkyries over to the site." "Yes Sir." "Dismissed."
The two made their way over to the local armoury and quickly stocked up on ammunition. They then proceeded to the fleet of Valkyrie MOD.0s lying in wait for the Merryweather troops. These Valkyries lacked the front cannon, which made them cheaper but less of a threat. Stanley and Hannah took different choppers, each of which were then loaded up with Merryweather strike troops, one of the most elite Merryweather ranks. After an additional four helicopters were filled and armed, they set off for the dark green forest of death. "I feel like I should be playing some Vietnam music" commented Stanley as he flew his Valkyrie towards the dense treeline. "You oldies always this nostalgic?" asked one of the troops. "Hey, I'm like the same age as you" replied Stanley as he peered down in search of the outpost. "We should be getting close." The troops kept looking until one of the gunners spotted a grey metal shack surrounded by bushes. "There, between those trees." Stanley altered the yaw as he turned towards the shack down below. "Alright. I'll land us in the clearing behind, then we'll go raid this bitch." He did as he said, turning back to the empty spot and landing relatively softly on the tall grass. "Alright gentlemen, let's do this!" he commanded over his radio. More Valkyries landed and soon, the full six strike trams were advancing on the outpost.
The forest was quite with the exception of tiny insects and birds off in the distance. The teams advanced closer to the shining outpost in the distance. It stuck out like a sore thumb. As they moved closer, they saw that the door was closed but it was nothing suspicious. As they moved even closer however, they saw that the door was missing a lock. All of a sudden, a woman stepped out. She was holding a man at gunpoint. The pilot. The Merryweather troops immediately yelled threats like "get down!" and "we will shoot!" The woman turned to face them and Stanley recognised her. Sarah, the audacious undercover soldier from the Zancudo raid. "At ease. She's one of us." Sarah replied "took you long enough" before shoving the unarmed soldier towards them. "He's already contacted the Army. It might be too late." "Bullshit" replied Stanley. He was later informed that Sarah shat no bull when he saw the half dozen Titan planes fly across above. USAF Titan planes. A few seconds later, black squares started dropping from them. Paratroopers. At least fifty of them.
It was only when Stanley turned back down to face the pilot that he recognised him. Matthew Blake. AKA Tyler. Stanley was only able to utter half his name "Ty-?" before his former friend dropped back behind Sarah, held up his open handcuffs for a split second and shot her in the head with her own sidearm. The hail of gunfire that proceeded was deafening. Tyler took cover behind the metal shack as the Merryweather troops closed in towards him. Tyler and his standard Pistol were just enough to hold them off for a minute or two, giving him time to escape as the paratroopers battle it out with Merryweather. "Fuck!" cried Stanley as he ran in pursuit of Tyler. Hannah saw what he was doing and followed. "Han, stay with them. Tyler's too dangerous. More so than Trevor." "And remember what Trevor did to you? You need the help!" replied Hannah. "Get a strike team to follow us then. Let's go." And so they did. Off into the hills in chase of a ghost while the symphony of bullets played below. The sound of gunfire was almost harmonic to Stanley. It felt calm when the situation is most dire. This is what it was like for him. He and Hannah followed by a small group of soldier ran blindly in the general direction of one of the most lethal men Stanley had ever know. What Hannah said was true. Trevor took Stanley to his breaking point and Tyler was trained by both of them. To take him on now would be near suicide, but it had to be done. A man with the combat expertise of Stanley and the volatility of Trevor was a force to be reckoned with and he had to be put down. As he brushed his way past the trees and bushes, little did he know that today he would meet not only one old friend, but two.
David Mannis knew that this was the last chance he would get before it would all end. He stamped the brake on his Obey Tailgater which was now like him, old and dusty. He stepped out of the car and peered down on the chaos below. The sky was raining soldiers, raining death. David and his trusty Pistol .50 moved down the hillside and into the jungle. The trees grew denser here and his line of sight was limited. He knew that his old friends would all be here and was hoping for a little reunion. He also knew that Tyler was alive and had been hunting him for several years with little to no luck. But now it was time to face him, to end it once and for all. Tyler had grown more powerful than either of them had ever imagined. And there he was, running out of the bushes. His shoulder was bleeding heavily but that didn't seem to have the slightest of impact on him. David racked his gun and aimed down his sights onto Tyler. He fired and the bullet tore a hole right through the tree behind him.
This immediately alerted Tyler to David's prescence. He looked up at him and growled "finally." His growl was that of a tiger's, right before it pounced upon its prey and that's what scared David. He continued firing off his shots while Tyler did the same. David shot Tyler right in the stomach, punching a small in and out hole but that only sped Tyler up. In turn, Tyler had hit David twice in his vest protected chest and once in the shoulder. Another bullet just barely grazed his ear, showing Tyler's intent to kill. But just before David's gun ran empty, salvation came from behind Tyler. Stanley opened automatic fire upon him, shooting him up with Bullpup Rifle rounds while Hannah did the same. The strike team followed in suit. Tyler retreated back behind a tree while empting the rest of his magazine at David. "You betrayed me, tried to kill me!" yelled Tyler furiously. Stanley and Hannah both moved up to his side but in a sudden turn of events, Tyler jumped at Hannah and took her as a human shield while swapping out his sidearm for hers. "Sending your wife out to do your battles with you, huh Stanley? I thought better of you. You left me to die on that mountain. I had to drag myself down in agony. The whole fucking mountain!" Tyler was angry but so was Stanley and he had to show as little of it as possible.
"I'm sorry Tyler, but I had no choice. That doctor and his little pet of his knocked me out. I had no control over the situation! Please. Hannah hasn't done anything wrong. Just let her go." Tyler refused to see the light of the situation. "You got her into that fucking cult huh? You see what they're doing? Merryweather's taking over the state. If anything, I'm doing the right thing here and any ally of Merryweather is an enemy of mine." Tyler tightened his grip on the gun and just as Stanley cried his last pleas, David Mannis pried the gun out of Tyler's hand and pulled him off of his friend's wife. The two then engaged in a bloody and brutal fistfight. "You're no better than that abomination your doctor made" taunted David. "Yeah, well that abomination still managed to fuck you up!" Tyler hooked David with a strong right cross while David reacted to that with multiple blows to the stomach. Neither Stanley not the Strike team had a clear shot on Tyler, but Hannah did. She fired her rifle right into the back of Tyler's knee, sending him down to a kneeling position. David then grabbed his head and struck it with his knee, knocking the man backwards.
Stanley took no chances. At the first clear shot he got, he opened fire yet again upon the undying Tyler. His magazine ran empty after a few shots, giving Tyler a chance to escape. He made a mad rush at Stanley with his combat knife. Stanley, who was never good at melee fighting, swung his rifle at Tyler only for him to duck under it and stick the knife right in his chest. Hannah screamed quickly in shock before she and David both shot at Tyler who dived further back towards the strike team. Taking only half a dozen bullets himself, Tyler managed to dispatch every one of them by stabbing the first one in the throat, taking his weapon and massacring the rest. That proved easy, but David and Hannah didn't. David's accuracy improved at this range, clipping Tyler in his other leg and his stomach. Hannah just fired non-stop at him, decorating his back with bloody holes. Tyler hid behind the bodies of the strike team before taking one of them as another human shield. With two damaged legs, he could only hope to finish off an already wounded man. He drew his stolen Carbine Rifle at a wounded and heavily breathing Stanley.
He pulled the trigger, and David stepped right in front of his former cop buddy. The bullets tore through what was left of the combat vest, piercing through to the other side of David. As Tyler tried to comprehend what he had just done, Hannah stabbed him right in the back of the neck, where the top of the spine was. She twisted the knife with all her strength and brought him falling down. "Take no chances" she uttered at the dying Tyler, who was gushing blood out of his mouth. Hannah yanked the knife out hard and brought it right back down into Tyler's skull, finishing him off. She looked back at her husband, who was sitting against a tree, clutching his wound. In front of him lied David, who seemed to be quite still. "Dave" said Stanley as he breathed with effort. "Dave, I don't know what to say" he cried. David's usual reassuring reply no longer came. "Dave, I can't thank you enough… I- fuck! Why? Argh!" The knife wound hurt more the harder he tried to stop the bleeding. More Merryweather troops came running up the hill. They went to assist their commanding officer. "Everything's going to be alright, sir. We've held off the Army. They're retreating." Stanley let go of his wound and looked at Hannah who was running towards him. The world turned dark and red. It tilted sideways and his vision blacked out just as Hannah reached him.
The all too familiar white room encased him yet again. Stanley opened his eyes and breathed. Nothing else. He lied there contemplating what would happen next. He didn't even realise his sleeping wife on the chair next to him. He didn't want to wake her up. She needed the sleep. But what he didn't know was how much sleep he had gotten. At the other end of the room above his bed was a television. It was tuned into Weazel News but the volume was muted. That didn't matter. He could make out the stories. So many stories. The one on right now was about a car crash in Downtown. That car crash however wasn't an accident. He saw a flaming Karin Rebel resting against a destroyed Merryweather Mesa. It was no crash. It was a bombing. A vehicle borne explosive device. An attack on the law. Only there was no law here. No more police. Only an abundance of Merryweather troops. An agent held two suspects in custody. They started to resist arrest. They were shot. On the bottom of the screen was the date. It was March. He had been out for almost two weeks.
Stanley reached for the remote on the table beside his bed. His arm was a bit stiff but otherwise fine. He changed the channel and saw the same thing, only in a different place. More attacks carried out by citizens against Merryweather. Protest attacks. Rebellious attacks. As Stanley scoured through the channels, he started to see the world he had brought them into. He realised what he had helped accomplish and what had happened. A small time Private Military Company founded in 2003 had taken over San Andreas as the new 'law enforcement'. They had driven out or executed all the Army and Police forces they came across. Stanley had helped Merryweather become so powerful that they had taken over the San Andreas government, leashing the state into Totalitarianism. Stanley didn't know what to think anymore. He had lost his friends and was now was part of what others would see as the enemy. His knife wound was still sore but he seemed to be able to move around okay. He carefully stepped out of bed and looked out the window. Los Santos was in chains and holding the reins was Merryweather. Riots ensued below and Stanley knew that he couldn't do anything about it.
He had to make the most of his position right now, and so he turned his back on the citizens of Los Santos both literally and figuratively. He wanted to live out the rest of his life with his wife as best as possible. And that was with Merryweather. But telling her that can wait. Right now, she needed the sleep.
THIS STORY WAS WRITTEN OVER THE PERIOD BETWEEN APRIL 2015 AND FEBRUARY 8th 2016
IN THE END THIS STORY IS JUST A WORK OF FICTION BASED IN THE FICTIONAL WORLD OF ROCKSTAR GAMES' LOS SANTOS OF GRAND THEFT AUTO V.
My friends over Xbox Live
My friends at school
Every person, company or object I have referenced
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.