DeusExMachina
Tank
- Joined
- Nov 23, 2004
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First, let this be known this is not a HL fanfic. This...is...a...GTA fanfiction. I know, you're saying "wtf?" Why would you do that. Well, I've been wanting to write a crime drama for a while and...that's about it. This is actually the first fanfic I've done since Subject: Shepherd. I've been trying to focus on my original works, but I think this will give me...some more confidence I guess. So without further ado, here is the first chapter. If you haven't played LCS, then there might be a few things you won't understand...but...don't worry about it. And while you're at it, why not leave me some reviews at http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2780908/1/. God knows I need them.
“Every man knows in his heart that nothing is worth doing.”-G.K. Chesterton, The Man Who Was Thursday.
Chapter 1: A Favor
Liberty City, December 24th, 1994.
A police chopper passed over the apartment’s roof, the rising sun glinting off its sides. Morning had come to Liberty City once more. Toni Cipriani was sound asleep in his bed and the whirling copter blades hadn’t disturbed him. He was a simple man and rightfully so. His life was going good. Toni did occasional work for Salvatore Leone, Don of the Leone family, he co-owned the Cipriani Restaurant (though that was more of his late father’s decision than his mother’s), and he had a nice apartment to live in. Life was almost too good in fact. In a few weeks or so, he’d be a made man; he knew that. Toni had been working for the Leone’s since he was 15. Now, at the age of 34 and nineteen years of loyalty to the Leone family, not making him would be a crime. Toni stirred in his sleep.
At the Leone estate, Salvatore sat at the head of a table with one man on each side of him. One was his consigliere/capo, the other his trusted bodyguard. One seat at the other end of the table was empty. His last capo, Bruno Cipriani, had been killed five years earlier. Salvatore hadn’t found anyone else capable of ascending to the position ever since.
There was Mario Goterelli, head of the small casino in St. Mark’s, and Benjamin Costello, Sal’s right hand man. He had taken the place of his right hand man after Bruno’s death.
“I’ve brought you here today, gentlemen, to discuss how we shall deal with this particular…vendetta.”
“Vendetta with who?” asked Mario.
“The Forelli’s of course.” Benjamin scratched his head.
“Salvatore, we’re at peace with the Forelli family. Attacking them is just going to result in unnecessary violence.” Salvatore raised his right hand firmly while his left hand stayed behind his back.
“I realize what’s at stake here, but I don’t have a choice. I spoke with Franco…I’ve spoken to that prick four times already about securing the hit, but he won’t allow it.”
“Who exactly do you wanna rub out?” asked Benjamin.
“Jimmy Forelli.” Mario and Benjamin both stared at Salvatore.
“That’s Franco’s brother. He’s a made man. You can’t kill a man like that. We have to keep the truce Salvatore. It’s for our best interests,” said Benjamin. Salvatore turned toward the window.
“I wish I could do that Ben. But, I’m not going to sit by while the man who murdered Bruno Cipriani still lives and breathes.”
It was about 9:30 AM when Toni finally awoke from his slumber. He moved into the bathroom and splashed water on his face. His eyes seemed…different. As if they had seen something no one had ever wanted to see. But, Toni hadn’t seen anything that traumatically affecting. Not yet anyway.
He moved to his dresser and pulled out a few articles of clothing. He slipped into a pair of blue jeans and a white t-shirt, and then grabbed his watch off the nightstand, strapping that on his left wrist. After that, he grabbed his white adidas sneakers out of the closet and tied those on. He was out the door before 9:50.
Salvatore paced back and forth in the room as he pondered who to send to kill Jimmy. Mario and Benjamin pondered aloud.
“Let’s send that new kid, Vincenzo or whatever it is,” said Mario. Benjamin shook his head.
“No, the kid’s too wet behind the ears. He might screw up.”
“Hell, let’s send my boy. He’s been itching to prove himself.” Again, Benjamin shook his head.
“Too young. We need someone we can trust. Someone who knows how things work. And, someone who won’t mind leaving Liberty for a couple years.” Salvatore glanced at Benjamin and nodded in agreement.
“Yeah, thing’s are going to get hot here. We’ll have to put ‘em in hiding, far away from here.”
“Don’t you got an uncle in Sicily? He could hide out there for awhile,” said Mario.
“Absolutely not. Its bad enough we get annual visits from the Sicilians. I don’t want any of my boys around them. Let’s keep it within the country. What’s a place we got contacts in Benny?”
“We don’t got any friendly places in Carcer or Vice…what about…San Andreas?” Salvatore remembered San Andreas all too well and the bastard who had robbed him, Carl Johnson. There was still a $100,000 contract on his head. Just the satisfaction of knowing Johnson was dead would’ve pleased Salvatore as much as killing him himself.
“What do we got down there? We still own Caligula’s?”
“Not exactly. We sold it to a…Tommy Vercetti of Vice City eight months ago.”
Toni arrived at his mother’s restaurant around 9:56 in his green Esperanto. As soon as he stepped inside, his mother’s voice yelled through the walls from the kitchen.
“Antonio! Where have you been? You know you’re supposed to be here at 9:30!” Toni threw his hands in the air.
“Ma, I woke up a little late, alright? It won’t happen again.”
“I told Bruno you weren’t ready for the restaurant business. You aren’t ready for any business! You can barely cook!” Toni rolled his eyes and strolled into his father’s office, slamming the door as he stepped inside. He plopped down in the spinning chair and lied back, closing his eyes. His mother always nagged him about every little thing he did, whether it be good or bad. His relationship had gone from good to incredibly horrible with his mother. After his father died, she had lost a big part of her. Without him, the family wasn’t complete. She wasn’t complete. She couldn’t function well any longer. Suddenly, Toni was a mistake she wasn’t very fond of. That’s why he needed to be made. It wasn’t just a choice; it was the only way to get the respect and love from his mother that he had lost. He’d do anything for that.
Back at the Leone’s, the last thing they needed to deal with was who to send.
“Salvatore, who exactly should we send?” Salvatore sat back down and made a small arch with his hands on the tabletop.
“Someone we can trust and someone who’s been with the family a long time. Did you get in contact with Vercetti yet, Benny?” Benjamin shook his head.
“I’ll get on it soon. But…I have a suggestion on whom to send.”
“I’m listening.” Benjamin got up from his chair and walked along the edge of the table, then turned toward Salvatore.
“What if we sent…Toni Cipriani?” Salvatore’s face entered an expression of puzzlement.
“…Bruno’s kid? No…I…I couldn’t do that. I promised Bruno I’d look after him. If he died or something were to happen to him…Bruno would never forgive me.” Benjamin put his hand on Salvatore’s shoulder.
“Bruno’s dead, Sal. He’s not coming back. I don’t even think you should be sending a hit on Jimmy Forelli. But, if its what you want to do, then we should send someone capable and someone we can trust. Toni’s a trustable man. And God knows he’s capable. Look at all the work he’s already done for us. Toni knows how to handle himself. He’ll get revenge for Bruno’s death and it’s even better with his own son doing it. It’s like in one of those samurai movies or something, you know? Son avenges the father.” Salvatore sighed and rubbed his temples slowly. Then, he looked at Benjamin and began to nod.
“You know what Benny? That’s a genius idea. But…there’s a slight flaw in your idea.”
“What’s that?”
“For Toni, it won’t be revenge. To him, it’ll be just another favor for me.”
Customers were starting to enter the restaurant as noon came about. He was about to put on an apron when his mother yell pierced the walls.
“Antonio! Salvatore Leone called! A car’s coming to pick you up, put on something nice! Maybe he’s finally gonna make you!” Toni stopped in his tracks. What would Salvatore Leone want with him? Then again, it didn’t matter what he wanted. He always had time for the Don. Toni went back into the office and opened the closet, revealing a well-tailored suit wrapped in plastic hanging on a hook. Of course, he had thrown the tie out long ago. He wasn’t fond of ties.
Benjamin didn’t understand what Salvatore was trying to say.
“What do you mean it’ll only be a favor? He’s killing the murderer of his father!” Salvatore shook his head.
“Yeah. But, Toni won’t know that.” Mario chimed in now.
“What? You mean you’re not going to tell him?”
“No. Making it personal for him will affect his judgment.”
“Salvatore, this…doesn’t make any sense! Why not tell the kid! It won’t hurt nobody! He has a right to know.”
“Benny, you’ve seen the way people act. They let their emotions cloud their thinking. Even getting revenge affects them later. Toni will go after all of the Forelli family if he ever found out. I know he would. It’s the same thing Bruno would do. Like father, like son. Now, Benny, get me the phone, I’m gonna call up the restaurant. Mario, call up Vincenzo and tell him to go pick Toni up. I’ll tell him everything myself.”
Toni had been waiting outside when the black Sentinel XS pulled up in front of him. The window rolled down and Toni rolled his eyes. It was Vincenzo Cilli.
“Hey Toni. Sal said to come pick you up. Hop in.” Toni got into the back. He couldn’t stand Vincenzo. The guy was a dirty, good for nothing rat. His whole family was a bunch of rats. Didn’t care about a single thing in the world except for themselves. And they lacked even decent decency. Vincenzo was the kind of guy who loved to exploit those lower than him. He’d probably kill a man for a dollar. Toni despised him.
The Sentinel turned onto the dirt path and stopped in front of the Leone estate.
“Here you are Toni. Oh and if I don’t see ya again, Merry Christmas, eh?”
“Yeah…sure…Merry Christmas Lucky.” Toni exited the vehicle and walked up the steps to the house. Two guards stood at the entrance.
“You Cipriani?” One of them asked. Toni nodded.
“Yeah, Toni Cipriani.”
“Mr. Leone would like to see you.” They opened the door into what looked like his study. Toni stepped inside and they closed the door behind him. Salvatore Leone sat in a leather chair with a glass of brandy in his hand.
“Toni my boy! Please, sit down, sit down. You want something to drink?” Toni shook his hand.
“Eh, no, I’m alright.”
“You sure? Come on, anything you want, I probably got it. Its no trouble at all.”
“Uhh…well, a glass of bourbon if you got it.”
“Ah, a classy guy eh? You got it. Patrick, a glass of bourbon for Toni here,” Salvatore said to the man behind the bar counter. Patrick placed a small glass on the counter, grabbed a bottle, and poured it in halfway. Then, he walked by and handed Toni the drink. He muttered a thank you and took a small sip. It was the best damn bourbon he ever tasted.
“Now, Antonio, you’re probably wondering why I’ve asked you to come here, especially on Christmas Eve, and I apologize for taking up your time.”
“Oh no Mr. Leone, its quite alright.”
“Good, good. Now, I’ll get straight to the point. I have a proposition for you. Think of it as a personal favor for me.”
“Oh, I’d do anything for you Mr. Leone.” Salvatore smiled.
“I know you would Toni. You’re a good man, just like your father. But, what I’m asking you to do is far more important than anything before. If you do go with it, you’ll have to leave Liberty for a while, a couple years at most. But, as soon as you come back, you can bet yourself the Leone family…no, me, Salvatore Leone, will personally take care of all your troubles from then on in.” Toni was slightly taken a back by the “couple of years” comment. Where would they send him? What could he possibly do in that time? But, it was Salvatore Leone asking for a favor, from him especially. Toni couldn’t possibly just pass this up.
“Whatever it is, Mr. Leone, I’ll do it.”
“Alright then. Let me get the whole shebang out of the way first. I want you to kill Jimmy Forelli.”
“Every man knows in his heart that nothing is worth doing.”-G.K. Chesterton, The Man Who Was Thursday.
Chapter 1: A Favor
Liberty City, December 24th, 1994.
A police chopper passed over the apartment’s roof, the rising sun glinting off its sides. Morning had come to Liberty City once more. Toni Cipriani was sound asleep in his bed and the whirling copter blades hadn’t disturbed him. He was a simple man and rightfully so. His life was going good. Toni did occasional work for Salvatore Leone, Don of the Leone family, he co-owned the Cipriani Restaurant (though that was more of his late father’s decision than his mother’s), and he had a nice apartment to live in. Life was almost too good in fact. In a few weeks or so, he’d be a made man; he knew that. Toni had been working for the Leone’s since he was 15. Now, at the age of 34 and nineteen years of loyalty to the Leone family, not making him would be a crime. Toni stirred in his sleep.
At the Leone estate, Salvatore sat at the head of a table with one man on each side of him. One was his consigliere/capo, the other his trusted bodyguard. One seat at the other end of the table was empty. His last capo, Bruno Cipriani, had been killed five years earlier. Salvatore hadn’t found anyone else capable of ascending to the position ever since.
There was Mario Goterelli, head of the small casino in St. Mark’s, and Benjamin Costello, Sal’s right hand man. He had taken the place of his right hand man after Bruno’s death.
“I’ve brought you here today, gentlemen, to discuss how we shall deal with this particular…vendetta.”
“Vendetta with who?” asked Mario.
“The Forelli’s of course.” Benjamin scratched his head.
“Salvatore, we’re at peace with the Forelli family. Attacking them is just going to result in unnecessary violence.” Salvatore raised his right hand firmly while his left hand stayed behind his back.
“I realize what’s at stake here, but I don’t have a choice. I spoke with Franco…I’ve spoken to that prick four times already about securing the hit, but he won’t allow it.”
“Who exactly do you wanna rub out?” asked Benjamin.
“Jimmy Forelli.” Mario and Benjamin both stared at Salvatore.
“That’s Franco’s brother. He’s a made man. You can’t kill a man like that. We have to keep the truce Salvatore. It’s for our best interests,” said Benjamin. Salvatore turned toward the window.
“I wish I could do that Ben. But, I’m not going to sit by while the man who murdered Bruno Cipriani still lives and breathes.”
It was about 9:30 AM when Toni finally awoke from his slumber. He moved into the bathroom and splashed water on his face. His eyes seemed…different. As if they had seen something no one had ever wanted to see. But, Toni hadn’t seen anything that traumatically affecting. Not yet anyway.
He moved to his dresser and pulled out a few articles of clothing. He slipped into a pair of blue jeans and a white t-shirt, and then grabbed his watch off the nightstand, strapping that on his left wrist. After that, he grabbed his white adidas sneakers out of the closet and tied those on. He was out the door before 9:50.
Salvatore paced back and forth in the room as he pondered who to send to kill Jimmy. Mario and Benjamin pondered aloud.
“Let’s send that new kid, Vincenzo or whatever it is,” said Mario. Benjamin shook his head.
“No, the kid’s too wet behind the ears. He might screw up.”
“Hell, let’s send my boy. He’s been itching to prove himself.” Again, Benjamin shook his head.
“Too young. We need someone we can trust. Someone who knows how things work. And, someone who won’t mind leaving Liberty for a couple years.” Salvatore glanced at Benjamin and nodded in agreement.
“Yeah, thing’s are going to get hot here. We’ll have to put ‘em in hiding, far away from here.”
“Don’t you got an uncle in Sicily? He could hide out there for awhile,” said Mario.
“Absolutely not. Its bad enough we get annual visits from the Sicilians. I don’t want any of my boys around them. Let’s keep it within the country. What’s a place we got contacts in Benny?”
“We don’t got any friendly places in Carcer or Vice…what about…San Andreas?” Salvatore remembered San Andreas all too well and the bastard who had robbed him, Carl Johnson. There was still a $100,000 contract on his head. Just the satisfaction of knowing Johnson was dead would’ve pleased Salvatore as much as killing him himself.
“What do we got down there? We still own Caligula’s?”
“Not exactly. We sold it to a…Tommy Vercetti of Vice City eight months ago.”
Toni arrived at his mother’s restaurant around 9:56 in his green Esperanto. As soon as he stepped inside, his mother’s voice yelled through the walls from the kitchen.
“Antonio! Where have you been? You know you’re supposed to be here at 9:30!” Toni threw his hands in the air.
“Ma, I woke up a little late, alright? It won’t happen again.”
“I told Bruno you weren’t ready for the restaurant business. You aren’t ready for any business! You can barely cook!” Toni rolled his eyes and strolled into his father’s office, slamming the door as he stepped inside. He plopped down in the spinning chair and lied back, closing his eyes. His mother always nagged him about every little thing he did, whether it be good or bad. His relationship had gone from good to incredibly horrible with his mother. After his father died, she had lost a big part of her. Without him, the family wasn’t complete. She wasn’t complete. She couldn’t function well any longer. Suddenly, Toni was a mistake she wasn’t very fond of. That’s why he needed to be made. It wasn’t just a choice; it was the only way to get the respect and love from his mother that he had lost. He’d do anything for that.
Back at the Leone’s, the last thing they needed to deal with was who to send.
“Salvatore, who exactly should we send?” Salvatore sat back down and made a small arch with his hands on the tabletop.
“Someone we can trust and someone who’s been with the family a long time. Did you get in contact with Vercetti yet, Benny?” Benjamin shook his head.
“I’ll get on it soon. But…I have a suggestion on whom to send.”
“I’m listening.” Benjamin got up from his chair and walked along the edge of the table, then turned toward Salvatore.
“What if we sent…Toni Cipriani?” Salvatore’s face entered an expression of puzzlement.
“…Bruno’s kid? No…I…I couldn’t do that. I promised Bruno I’d look after him. If he died or something were to happen to him…Bruno would never forgive me.” Benjamin put his hand on Salvatore’s shoulder.
“Bruno’s dead, Sal. He’s not coming back. I don’t even think you should be sending a hit on Jimmy Forelli. But, if its what you want to do, then we should send someone capable and someone we can trust. Toni’s a trustable man. And God knows he’s capable. Look at all the work he’s already done for us. Toni knows how to handle himself. He’ll get revenge for Bruno’s death and it’s even better with his own son doing it. It’s like in one of those samurai movies or something, you know? Son avenges the father.” Salvatore sighed and rubbed his temples slowly. Then, he looked at Benjamin and began to nod.
“You know what Benny? That’s a genius idea. But…there’s a slight flaw in your idea.”
“What’s that?”
“For Toni, it won’t be revenge. To him, it’ll be just another favor for me.”
Customers were starting to enter the restaurant as noon came about. He was about to put on an apron when his mother yell pierced the walls.
“Antonio! Salvatore Leone called! A car’s coming to pick you up, put on something nice! Maybe he’s finally gonna make you!” Toni stopped in his tracks. What would Salvatore Leone want with him? Then again, it didn’t matter what he wanted. He always had time for the Don. Toni went back into the office and opened the closet, revealing a well-tailored suit wrapped in plastic hanging on a hook. Of course, he had thrown the tie out long ago. He wasn’t fond of ties.
Benjamin didn’t understand what Salvatore was trying to say.
“What do you mean it’ll only be a favor? He’s killing the murderer of his father!” Salvatore shook his head.
“Yeah. But, Toni won’t know that.” Mario chimed in now.
“What? You mean you’re not going to tell him?”
“No. Making it personal for him will affect his judgment.”
“Salvatore, this…doesn’t make any sense! Why not tell the kid! It won’t hurt nobody! He has a right to know.”
“Benny, you’ve seen the way people act. They let their emotions cloud their thinking. Even getting revenge affects them later. Toni will go after all of the Forelli family if he ever found out. I know he would. It’s the same thing Bruno would do. Like father, like son. Now, Benny, get me the phone, I’m gonna call up the restaurant. Mario, call up Vincenzo and tell him to go pick Toni up. I’ll tell him everything myself.”
Toni had been waiting outside when the black Sentinel XS pulled up in front of him. The window rolled down and Toni rolled his eyes. It was Vincenzo Cilli.
“Hey Toni. Sal said to come pick you up. Hop in.” Toni got into the back. He couldn’t stand Vincenzo. The guy was a dirty, good for nothing rat. His whole family was a bunch of rats. Didn’t care about a single thing in the world except for themselves. And they lacked even decent decency. Vincenzo was the kind of guy who loved to exploit those lower than him. He’d probably kill a man for a dollar. Toni despised him.
The Sentinel turned onto the dirt path and stopped in front of the Leone estate.
“Here you are Toni. Oh and if I don’t see ya again, Merry Christmas, eh?”
“Yeah…sure…Merry Christmas Lucky.” Toni exited the vehicle and walked up the steps to the house. Two guards stood at the entrance.
“You Cipriani?” One of them asked. Toni nodded.
“Yeah, Toni Cipriani.”
“Mr. Leone would like to see you.” They opened the door into what looked like his study. Toni stepped inside and they closed the door behind him. Salvatore Leone sat in a leather chair with a glass of brandy in his hand.
“Toni my boy! Please, sit down, sit down. You want something to drink?” Toni shook his hand.
“Eh, no, I’m alright.”
“You sure? Come on, anything you want, I probably got it. Its no trouble at all.”
“Uhh…well, a glass of bourbon if you got it.”
“Ah, a classy guy eh? You got it. Patrick, a glass of bourbon for Toni here,” Salvatore said to the man behind the bar counter. Patrick placed a small glass on the counter, grabbed a bottle, and poured it in halfway. Then, he walked by and handed Toni the drink. He muttered a thank you and took a small sip. It was the best damn bourbon he ever tasted.
“Now, Antonio, you’re probably wondering why I’ve asked you to come here, especially on Christmas Eve, and I apologize for taking up your time.”
“Oh no Mr. Leone, its quite alright.”
“Good, good. Now, I’ll get straight to the point. I have a proposition for you. Think of it as a personal favor for me.”
“Oh, I’d do anything for you Mr. Leone.” Salvatore smiled.
“I know you would Toni. You’re a good man, just like your father. But, what I’m asking you to do is far more important than anything before. If you do go with it, you’ll have to leave Liberty for a while, a couple years at most. But, as soon as you come back, you can bet yourself the Leone family…no, me, Salvatore Leone, will personally take care of all your troubles from then on in.” Toni was slightly taken a back by the “couple of years” comment. Where would they send him? What could he possibly do in that time? But, it was Salvatore Leone asking for a favor, from him especially. Toni couldn’t possibly just pass this up.
“Whatever it is, Mr. Leone, I’ll do it.”
“Alright then. Let me get the whole shebang out of the way first. I want you to kill Jimmy Forelli.”
