章 17: Chapter 17: Blood on the Docks

The sirens grow louder, and you know it's only a matter of time before the police arrive. You glance down, but there's no sign of Dilson – only the distant sound of his cries, fading into the night. A few cops standing under the building look up in shock as a figure plummets from above. Dilson crashes onto the roof of a parked car with a sickening thud, the metal crumpling under the impact. For a moment, there is a deafening silence, broken only by the car's alarm blaring into the night. The officers rush forward, but it is clear he is gone – the lifeless body sprawled across the twisted wreckage. You take a moment to catch your breath, the adrenaline slowly ebbing away. Your heart still pounds in your chest, a grim reminder of the events that just transpired. The sirens grow louder, and you know you have to act fast. With a quick glance around, you spot a nearby alley, hidden from the prying eyes of the officers. You slip into the shadows, your heartbeat thundering in your ears, as you disappear into the night. As you lean against the cold brick wall, your breathing gradually evens out. The gravity of what just happened weighs heavy on your chest, but you can't afford to dwell on it right now. You need to focus on what comes next.

You slip out of the alley and onto the bustling streets of Vice City. The city's vibrant nightlife seems incongruous with the darkness you've just emerged from. The music, the laughter, the neon lights, they all feel surreal, as if they belong to another world, a world untouched by the violence and cruelty that you're all too familiar with.

You need to lay low, to disappear in the crowd, to become just another face in the sea of people that throng the city's streets. You pull out your phone, opening your banking app to check your account balance. The number on the screen brings a wry smile to your lips – Mr. Black's payment is more than enough to secure another safehouse. You've been eyeing a modest place in the Vice Point district, and now it seems within reach.

"3321 Vice Point, here I come", you think, scrolling through your contacts for the real estate agent's number. The line rings a few times before a familiar, yet hesitant voice picks up. "Y-yes, Tommy?" "I'm in the market for a new property. Something modest in Vice Point, say 3321 Vice Point? Can you arrange a viewing as soon as possible?" Your voice is steady, concealing the turmoil you've just experienced.

The agent stammers, caught off guard by your request, but quickly recovers. "Of course, Tommy. I can have the keys and the address waiting for you at my office. When would you like to stop by?"

"Half an hour should be sufficient. I'll see you then." You hang up the phone and slip it back into your pocket, your movements smooth and calculated. You stride down the street, blending in with the crowd, your thoughts centered on the task ahead. The night is still young, and there's much to be done.

The phone in your hand vibrates slightly, alerting you to an incoming call from Mr. Black. You quickly answer the call, your voice betraying none of the tension you feel. "Mr. Black, what do you have for me?"

He speaks in a low, hushed tone, as if sharing a dangerous secret. "I've got some intel on Alberto. He's holed up in his mansion in Little Havana." You tense, your grip tightening on the phone. "Do you have any idea what he's planning?"

Mr. Black pauses, the silence heavy with tension. "Rumor has it, he's planning a major drug trafficking operation. He's bringing in a large shipment, and I don't need to tell you what that means for you."

You grit your teeth, anger and determination coursing through your veins. "I need to know more. Where is the shipment coming from? When is it arriving?"

Mr. Black sighs, a note of reluctance in his voice. "I can't give you all the details, but I can tell you that the shipment is coming from the docks in Viceport. It's scheduled to arrive within the hour."

You clench your fists, a plan already forming in your mind. "Thank you."

You hang up, the gravity of the situation settling on your shoulders. With steely determination, you stride towards your car, all thoughts of the real estate agent and the safehouse forgotten. A drug trafficking operation of this scale could solidify Alberto's power and cripple your chances of taking over Vice City's underworld. You can't let that happen. You have to act now.

Your tires screech as you tear out of the parking lot, heading towards Viceport. Time is ticking, and you have to intercept the shipment before it reaches Alberto. With every passing second, the urgency of your mission grows heavier. You quickly dial Lance's number, his voice filled with concern when he answers. "Tommy, what's going on? You sound tense."

You waste no time beating around the bush. "I need you to gather your men and meet me at Viceport. We've got a major operation to intercept."

Lance doesn't hesitate. "Consider it done. I'll be there with backup in five minutes."

You hang up. Your car weaves through the traffic, headed towards Viceport. As you pull up to the dockyard, you see rows of shipping containers and cargo ships. Lance and his crew are already there, waiting for you. Their faces are tense, mirroring your own anxiety. You jump out of the car, quickly briefing them on the operation.

"Alberto's bringing in a large drug shipment from here. We need to intercept it before it reaches him." Your gaze scans the area, searching for any signs of the shipment.

Lance nods, a determined expression on his face. "We're ready." You lead your crew towards the docks, your senses heightened as you scan the area for any signs of the incoming shipment. The sound of seagulls and the distant hum of machinery fill the air, but there's no sign of the drugs yet. Suddenly, a faint beeping noise catches your attention. You signal your crew to stop and follow the sound. It grows louder as you approach a large shipping container.

With a nod to Lance, you both draw your weapons and cautiously approach the container. You reach the container, the beeping growing louder with every step. You exchange a tense glance with Lance before grabbing onto the handle and pulling it open. The sight that greets you is a massive cache of drugs, neatly packaged and ready for transport. You quickly signal your crew to start unloading the shipment onto your trucks.

Just as you're about to turn away, a sudden shout startles you. You spin around, gun at the ready, only to find Alberto and his men standing before you, weapons drawn. Alberto's eyes narrow, his gaze cold and calculating. "Vercetti," he growls, his voice dripping with venom. "I should have known you'd be behind this."

You don't back down, your own gaze steady as you meet his. "Alberto," you reply, your voice low and dangerous. "I see you're still in the business of losing shipments."

Alberto sneers, his finger tightening on the trigger. "You think you can take what's mine?" "I already have," you retort, a smirk playing at the corners of your mouth. You gesture to the bustling activity behind you, where your crew is efficiently transferring the drugs from the container to your trucks.

Alberto's face twists in anger, his finger tightening further on the trigger. The standoff between you and Alberto is interrupted by the sudden crackle of gunfire. His men open fire, and the air fills with the sound of bullets ricocheting off metal and concrete. You and Lance quickly take cover behind nearby crates, returning fire with deadly precision. The sound of chaos engulfs you as you dive deeper into the fray, adrenaline coursing through your veins.

You see one of Alberto's men sprint towards a forklift, attempting to use it as a makeshift shield. Without hesitation, you take aim and fire, hitting him square in the chest. He crumples to the ground, the forklift crashing down beside him. The sound of revving engines signals the arrival of reinforcements as you and Lance fight to maintain your ground. The smell of gunpowder fills the air as you exchange fire with Alberto's men. Sweat trickles down your forehead as you focus on taking them down one by one. You hear Lance grunt beside you, the sound of his gun firing in rapid succession. You risk a glance in his direction, seeing him clutch his arm, blood seeping through his fingers. Despite his injury, he continues to fight, a testament to his determination.