It had been two weeks since the death of Sonny Forelli. In less than a week, the three major kingpins of Vice City were taken down. Jack felt this was similar to the plot of some formulaic action movie, but then real life was always stranger than fiction.
The Diaz Gang’s empire was slowly crumbling to inactivity of Ricardo Diaz. Rumours of a drug addiction due to numerous ‘doctor feelgoods’ practically kept him medically comatose. His remaining men didn’t handle the power vacuum well; the death of Lance had unearthed many of the problems within the gang and thus, they were tearing themselves apart. The Police were grateful for one thing though; they took down the Streetwannabes that made Vice Point such a horrible place to live.
The biggest irony was that the strongest gang on the street was the Cuban’s gang. Umberto Robina’s men had lived under the radar of the police as they were only busted for minor crimes. The Little Havana precinct, in admiration and jealousy of Jack Blake, awaited their turn to destroy their gang as not to appear second best to Washington Beach.
With the Forelli’s wiped out, Washington Beach had become free again as was Downtown from the influence of the Vance Family. The media was in disbelief but Jack Blake had truly cleaned up the streets thought to be crime-ridden forever.
Jack Blake relaxed for the first time since the Forelli mob collapsed. The resulting media whirlwind was, for once, positive to the police department and created a new bond of trust with the public. For the first time since the early century, Vice City was in the control of the authorities.
His phone rang from downstairs as Jack got out of his bed and stumbled downstairs. He had to change his number to keep away members of the press though he was worried they’d find out his new number. They were a sneaky bunch of bastards, those in the press.
“Jack. It’s me.” Tommy Vercetti said, sounding calm for the first time. Jack noted the lack of urgency in his voice. “It’s nice to know you managed to play cowboy cop and sort out those pricks.”
“Polite as ever, Tommy.” He replied, smiling slightly. “Shame about your old boss, huh?”
“It’s tragic but what can you do, huh?”
The sudden realization hit Jack. It was so obvious.
“You fired that last shot, didn’t you?” Jack asked, though it wasn’t really a question.
Tommy paused before he spoke. Each word was carefully weighted. “I just wanted to piss him off before he died. You were having all the fun.”
And like that, they both laughed darkly. In a strange twist, both cop and criminal were laughing about the death of a noted crime boss. The laughter died swiftly as both men snapped back to themselves.
“Well, you did me a solid. Vice City owes you. But...” Jack sighed but pressed on. “I’d advise you from ever coming back here.”
“I don’t plan to, Jack. I’m pretty well set up here.” Tommy responded. He didn’t want to revisit the city where he had lost everything. “I’ve gotta go. Take it easy.”
“Take it easy.” Jack repeated before hanging up the phone. He looked out onto the beautiful morning that blessed Vice Point with a golden sunrise and pulled on his leather jacket. For the first time in years, he felt like going for a drive among the streets of Vice City.
God knows, he had earned it.