Chapter Nine - Search & DestroyMature

Juan Cortez sat back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling. It had been a tumultuous week; first Officer Jack Blake seemed to be on his trail; the Forelli mob had been muscling in on his operations; Diaz and Victor Vance seemed to be expanding. Plus, he was unable to obtain the guidance chips from the courier; the French seemingly had got one over on him.

All generations of gangs were cutting in on his share of the city. Despite his wealth and influence, Cortez could not retain his outlets in Vice Point or Washington Beach. The Forelli’s were indeed ruthless and methodical. How Tommy and Jack survived their assault on Leaf Links is certainly a tale for the ages.

Cortez sipped his scotch thoughtfully. Maybe Tommy could still be useful to him? But with that cop sniffing around.. it may not be beneficial to get involved yet. But with the Forelli influence growing, time was running out. Immunity saved him from the police, but would his influence save him from the cold-hearted stranglehold of Sonny Forelli? His Liberty City dealings were legendary for all the wrong reasons.

There was a solemn knock at his door. One of his men spoke without entering; the Forelli’s had pushed them out of the Malibu by purchasing the establishment. Evidently, his own men would rather not face him when delivering bad news. Sighing, he picked up his phone and dialled Diaz. Perhaps a deal could be made; his own men were outnumbered by the Italian swine. Though he barely trusted Diaz, he had no other options. He didn’t trust Victor for one.


Diaz put the phone down and continued to smoke his cigar. His heart thumped erratically within his chest as he considered the deal Juan Cortez had proposed. A partnership with the rich side of Central America? Tempting, but with the leaps and bounds made by his decisions, Cortez gave him no real benefit. He already had the police in his pocket (mostly); the Forelli’s were of no issue to him. The only obstacle he needed removing was that of Victor Vance. But that would happen in time, he was sure of it. But for now, he needed to sort out the problem of the Streetwannabes. Strolling out of his mansion into his limo, his henchmen took off for a rendezvous at Prawn Island.


Diaz’s limo pulled up outside of the dilapidated mansion that used to be the property of the Mendez Brothers. A cluster of Streetwannabes (though they prefer to be known as the Sharks) eyed them as they pulled up. For a gang who wanted the opulence that came from million dollar drug deals, they sure hated the bourgeoisie. The mansions they occupied were in a state of disrepair; bad graffiti and parts of in the interior were exposed. Squatters’ rights, it seemed, were the law here.

Diaz left his vehicle armed with a dozen of his own men. He clutched a briefcase containing $50,000 in unmarked bills. He planned to buy off their influence and maybe use them as a buffer against the Vance gang. He knew of their allegiance with the Haitians and maybe that could be useful. As long as the Haitians cooperated; their past dealings had been disastrous

“Ricardo” said their leader, who stepped slowly towards him confidently. He was flanked by several of his own men also. All of them garbed in denim and bandannas; like a bad Michael Jackson music video. “How’s tricks?” He continued, observing all his men standing firm.

“They’re very well” Diaz replied. He wanted this to be over and done with. There was some other business he needed to attend to soon after. “I spoke with you regarding the terms of our deal. Are you in?” 

 The Streetwannabes team broke into quiet chatter. Their leader held up a hand until they became silent again. “$100,000 in unmarked bills then of course.”

Diaz frowned. His temper threatened to depart. “Our deal was for fifty K”

Their leader just laughed in response. Two Trojan Voodoo’s burst onto the driveway behind him. A cluster of Haitians gripping Micro SMG’s emerged all aimed at Diaz. Diaz’s men stood form, aiming their AK 47’s in response.

Diaz however smiled. He pointed over to the studios he owned and gave a knowing wink to the Streetwannabes leader. “I have my men with snipers up there. Make your move, puta.”

A split second and then all Hell broke loose. Diaz dived into his limo; almost thrown back by the bullet that penetrated his hip. His men decimated the Streetwannabes in an instant. Several of their men hid back; their leader tried rushing back into the biggest mansion but he was cut down by a sniper. The Haitians, sensing defeat, tried speeding away in their cars but Diaz’s men had other ideas. A single rocket flew into the path of the first car; taking a chunk out of the road and turning the car into charred black metal. The men inside died on impact. The second car flipped from the collision and the men inside barely had time to escape as a second rocket decimated them.

The Streetwannabes however, called for backup and tried to attack from both sides. But the polished sniper skills of his men forced them out into the open. The power of the AK 47 cut down the remaining Streetwannabes while making their Colt’s look pitiful in response. Their leader lay in a puddle of his own blood; no one knew who fired the final shot but no one from their assault was alive after the dust settled. However, there was not one fatality for the Diaz gang except for the wounding of Ricardo who was sped off to the Hospital.

One of his men who clambered into the vehicle with Diaz listened to his instructions as he howled with pain. Although it wasn’t a complete victory; he was unable to get the influence of the Streetwannabes. But, he had practically wiped the Streetwannabes and thus, gained complete control of Prawn Island. Now, he had both pathways under his jurisdiction.

Diaz planned to buy the dilapidated mansions for his own purposes; soon, he’d have control of Vice City. Today was just another stepping stone. He thought of Cortez and managed to laugh; he wouldn’t need him after all.


True to his word, Diaz managed to buy the abandoned mansions. Also, thanks to his lawyers, there were no legal ramifications that could land him in trouble with the law. His first act after leaving hospital (with his veins rich with morphine) was to wipe out the remaining Streetwannabes that clustered around North Point Mall. Only the remaining leaders were killed and thus, the gang folded. Now, he thought, to expand into Downtown and take down the Vance Family once and for all.

The End

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