Gta Bitches Of Liberty City Ch 04

"Retrieve"

In the last half-hour, Allie does an occasional glance at the manager's office door when not distracted by the strippers on the stage or the strippers who just happen to casually walk past her and Hector's table.

Her focus switches back to the office when she spots a black man in a mostly red but gaudy multi-colored hoodie walk out thought the door, followed by a heavyset Latino with a ridiculously thick moustache in a jogging suit with a fishing hat and sunglasses. Allie recognizes the Latino as Javier Trunchez of the Spanish Lords, co-owner of the Triangle Club, and the black man with him as Trey Stewart aka Playboy X, a known drug-dealer from Northwood.

Playboy and Javier do a manly fist-bump before parting ways. Playboy moves to exit the club as Javier walks over to Allie and Hector.

"Hector, my man." Javier greets with open arms. "Were you waiting long?"

"Yeah, but I don't mind waiting in this joint." Hector stands up to get Javier a brief hug.

Allie stands up from her chair and steps to Hector's side.

"Who's this chica?" Javier asks.

"This is my cousin, Allie. I told you about her." Hector introduces. "She just out of the big house and looking to make some paper."

"I hear you're one tough dyke, that true?" Javier bluntly questions.

Allie silently pauses for a few seconds before picking up her bottle of Pisswasser from her table.

"Tough enough to smash this bottle over your head and use the broken end to cut out your sex organs." Allie states.

"Hey, you best watch that mouth of yours, chica, if you know what's good for you." Javier warns.

"Call me chica again and you're gonna find out that my mouth is the less painfully thing about me." Allie takes a step to get in Javier's face.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Hector quickly moves between his agitated cousin and the Hispanic gang-banger, causing the two to step back. "Let's not blow what could be a long and prosperous business relationship over a poor choice of words." Hector faces Allie. "Cool it." Hector switches to Javier. "How about we talk about the job?"

"So, you're vouching for her?" Javier questions, pointing to Allie.

"Yeah, I'm vouching for her." Hector confirms.

"If this job goes to shit, it's on you." Javier says.

"Understood." Hector replies with a smile and complete assurance. "I got no worries."

Javier takes a moment to consider his options. "Let's get some air." Javier says before turning and heading for the door.

"I think it's best if I do the talking." Hector suggests. "Being in prison hasn't improved your social skills."

"That asshole called me a dyke. Am I supposed to just let that slide?" Allie asks.

"First, he called you a

tough dyke

. So, take it as a compliment." Hector says. "Second, yes, you let it slide. You should always let shit like that slide. You'll get more friends that way."

Hector is first to follow Javier, who is nearly out the open door. Allie takes a deep breathe to calm her before walking to the door with Hector. The cousins exit the club and make their way to the parking lot. They find Javier leaning against his black Landstalker, lighting a cigarette.

"There's this guido in Little Italy named Mike. I trusted that fucking grease stain with a package of blow on the hope of branching to Algonquin." Javier instructs, after a puff. "But I've recently found out that he's been cutting the product and pocketing the extra cash for himself. Suffice to say, I've lost trust in Mike and want to end our business."

"So, you want us to take back the coke?" Hector questions.

"The coke and the cash." Javier clarifies. "And no need to be nice about it."

"Wait, you want us flexing on Italian tuff?" Allie steps in. "Who's this guy connected with?"

"He's not connected to anyone." Javier states. "At least with anyone we should been concerned about."

"So, nothing we can't handle then." Hector quickly tries to assure with a less than subtle glare at Allie. "You can trust us,

jefe

. You won't be disappointed."

"I'd better not be." Javier warns. "I heard what happened in Vice City. I hope history won't repeat itself."

"That won't be the case." Hector states with a confident smile before he turns to leave.

Not satisfied with the conversation, Allie does not follow her cousin but stays to leer at Javier, silently and sternly. Javier tips his shades down at Allie.

"Better got going, chica." Javier says. "Your cousin might have some need for you."

As much as Allie wants to thrust her fist into Javier's face, she decides to walk away to begin her new assignment.

****

"That could have gone better." Hector says.

The Sabre is halfway down the Dukes Boulevard, lit by the lamp posts. Hector lays back on the passenger seat, reclined back for him to relax.

"What?" Allie asks. "Should I have kissed his ass like you?"

"It's called people skills, cuz." Hector states. "Which you sorely lack. But lucky for you, you're working with someone skilled in people skills."

"Ooooo, you write songs for Love Fist." Allie sarcastically suggests. "Look, Javier thrust us with this job, so we're in good. So, as long as there's no fuck ups, we can look forward doing more business with the Spanish Lords."

"Finally, some optimism." Hector says.

"What happened in Vice City?" Allie starts a new topic.

"I told you, some heavy shit went down so I left." Hector answers.

"What heavy shit exactly?" Allie presses.

Hector gives an annoyed sign and sets his up.

"It was supposed to be a simple pick up at the docks, we were getting a shipment of coke like we always did every month. Suddenly, we were surrounded by the F.I.B. and N.O.O.S.E.. Then some asshole starts a shootout and only me and another guy were lucky to get out alive."

"The F.I.B. and N.O.O.S.E.?" Allie questions. "I hope that shit didn't follow you from V.C. 'cause I don't need that."

"I covered my tracks on my way out, cuz." Hector states. "You've got no reason to worry."

"Hector, why is it whenever you say I've got no reason to worry, I worry?"

****

Allie and Hector walk down the hall of a building on Liberty Lane. In their usual routine, both check on their firearms and conceal them as they proceed to the door at the end. Hector knocks on the door of apartment 212 and wait for a response.

Hector takes several quick, deep breathes to ready himself. Allie finds this ritual amusing, but completely pointless.

"Planning to run a marathon?" Allie jokes.

"It's called

prep

, cuz." Hector informs as he straightens his back and move his shoulders to look street-tough. "Remember, I take lead, you watch my back."

Allie nods her head to affirm with a smile and a settle snort.

The door squeaks opens. To the surprise of Allie and Hector, they watch the person opening the door to be a Caucasian woman with above-shoulder, light-brown hair with stunning brown eyes, wearing a short, see-through, white lace robe with black lace panties. This sight gives the cousins pause, forgetting their objectives for a moment.

"Oh, you're not the pizza guy." The half-naked brunette says, keeping the door half open. "I can I help you?"

"

Camo esta¡s,

Ma'am.

We're here to see Mike." Hector states in a friendly manner. "Is he here?"

"He's in the shower right now." The brunette informs. "But I don't think he's..."

"Good, we need to speak to him about some business." Hector says, pushing the girl in lace aside to enter the apartment, striding to the bathroom.

"Wait, you can't go in there." The brunette says, about to run after Hector

Allie follows, quickly shutting the door behind her. She hurries to the brunette, grabbing her arm and roughly forcing her against the wall.

"Let me go, bitch, or I'm calling the police!" The brunette loudly warns.

"You shut up! You shut up now!" Allie yells, pulling out her gun but keeping pointed to the floor.

The brunette begins to silently calm down with her eyes on Allie's gun. Hector finds the door to the bathroom unlocked and stealthily enters with his gun drawn.

"What's your name?" Allie questions.

"Michelle." The brunette timidly answers.

"Well, Michelle, we're here because your boyfriend thought he could scam our boss out of some money from the coke he entrusted him with." Allie explains.

"Listen, he's not my boyfriend. I'm an escort." Michelle states. "I don't want to get involved in this. I promise not to say anything."

"No, you keep your ass right there until I say otherwise." Allie asserts.

Allie and the escort are momentarily distracted by the loud rumbling from the bathroom, followed yelling and swearing in Spanish, followed by more rumbling.

"Please, just let me go." Michelle pleads. "If my ex-husband finds out I've been escorting, the bastard will use it to get custody of my daughter and I can't let that happen." Michelle's bottom lip quivers as her eyes tear up. "Please, I'm just doing this so me and my daughter can move to Los Santos because my ex is on parole and..."

Allie swiftly raises an open palm to Michelle, prompting the escort to shut up. Allie finds herself in a moral dilemma. Usually she wouldn't care about some whore and troubles of her chosen profession.

No skin off my ass.

But she considers the whore's daughter and the ex-husband she's trying to get away from. Obviously, the ex is an abusive asshole and she fears for hers and her daughter's safety.

She married the wrong man. Still not my problem.

But she can't help but think about the daughter and what she might suffer at the hands of her abusive father.

No one rescued me when I was a kid. I had to rescue myself every day.

Despite the reasoning and what tells herself, Allie couldn't rid herself of the doubt plaguing her, or the guilt.

"Go." Allie say, backing away from Michelle. "Now, before I change my mind."

Without a second's hesitation, Michelle hurries to the door. Allie fixated on the escort's lace-covered ass as she picks up a black travel bag on the floor and opens the door.

"Thank you." A grateful Michelle looks back to Allie before hastily departing.

"Send me a postcard from Los Santos, honey." Allie replies.

Certain that Michelle is now out of danger, Allie cautiously moves to the bathroom with her gun in front of her. She stops as a wet and naked man in his late-twenties with short black hair run out of the bathroom but suddenly stops when he sees the barrel end of Allie's gun, causing him to raise his hands.

"Mike, I presume." Allie says.

Hector rushes out of the bathroom, agitated and with his hair slightly messy from a fight. He aims his gun directly at Mike's face. Allie keeps her aim on Mike's head, not wanting to see the rest of him.

"Try getting away now,

pendejo

." Hector warns.

"Okay, what do you want?" Mike frantically asks, raising his hands higher.

"We want the coke Javier Trunchez gave you and the money you've been skimming." Allie states.

"Oh, he knows about that. Shit." Mike says. "I'll be honest with you, if I knew Javier would find out, I wouldn't have tried to rip him off."

"How did this

culero

get anything from Javier?" Allie asks Hector.

"I'm good with people." Mike says, with some pride. "Especially, when there aren't any guns pointed at me."

"Where's the coke and the money, fucker?" Hector demands.

"Both are in the travel bag by the door." Mike says.

Allie's mouth drops as she realizes she may have been scammed. "Oh, shit." Allie mutters.

"What travel bag?" Hector looks over the hall. "Wait a minute, where's the girl?"

"Watch him!" Allie tells Hector as she runs for the door. "The whore took the coke!"

Allie dashes out of Mike's apartment and down the hallway. Assuming that Michelle is making a quick getaway, she would take the stairs instead of the elevator. On that notion, Allie takes the stairway down to the ground floor, jumping over the last few steps. She hurries pass the small foyer and through the door, leading her to Liberty Lane.

Allie blesses her luck as she spots Michelle across the road, still in her lacey lingerie, running to a black Sentinel with the travel bag. As Michelle opens the passenger-side door, she notices Allie running to her. Michelle just smiles and waves to Allie.

As Allie approaches the Sentinel, the tinted window of the driver's side door slide down. She spots a gloved hand with a gun peeking out and starts shooting. Allie stops and runs back, dodging the bullets to duck behind an old Marbelle. The shooting stops but Allie stays crotched down with the Marbelle as cover.

"Don't chase after me, honey." Michelle yells out. "You don't want to follow me where I'm going."

Michelle gets in the getaway car a second before it screeching off. Allie stands up and run from back to the road to watch the Sentinel accelerating and makes a hard right on Feldspar Street.

"FUCK!" Allie yells with complete frustration and anger.