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The following stories are true. None of the names have changed. Screw the innocent.

Honor Among Criminals

We had but one objective- Escape by any means necessary. There was a chopper waiting on the far south side of Alderney to get us out of there. I was stuck in a car with three other goons, and we tried to make the best of the situation, chilling to some Jazz while our more-than-capable driver took point after laying down a Waypoint (Why am I the only one who lays down Waypoints...?).

The situation dissolved from there. T-boned by a cruiser, our escape vehicle wound up wedged between a tree and a building, forcing us out on foot. I myself just barely managed to dart down an alley while a cop was popping off shots (The round had been graciously set to handguns only) at my feet. I managed to nab a replacement vehicle, but by then the rest of the team had a decent head start to the escape vehicle. Once I hit the straight road to the evac-point, I got hit. Four cop cars on my rear, bullets plinking off my hood, followed by the sound of my windshields shattering. By now, they could have blown my tires, or pitted me and ended it...but I knew their plan: They wanted me to lead them to the chopper.

The Chopper came into view, off the side of the road in a shoulder of dirt, with the other four piling in once I came into view. I bailed from the vehicle as the tires blew...I had served my purpose to the cops and was now being paid for my services. Luckily, a moving man running like hell makes a poorer target for handguns rather than car.

I called for them to wait, as they were warming up the motors...and then they began to lift into the air. Those sons of bitches were leaving me behind. I stood there as they began their escape as the cops came alongside me...After a moment of ironic acceptance, we all began shooting at the helicopter. It was too far gone for our shots to be worth anything...But, I at least had the satisfaction of letting my "team-mates" know how I felt.

The Wing-Man

Just like before, the objective was escape, however, this time the police weren't as crafty. We had sent one of the others to lure them away across the map while we fetched the chopper. As we pulled up in the slightly dinged up Cognescetti, our driver, a man with a thick English accent and a penchant for street slang, told me to take the wheel of the Chopper while we formulated over headset how to extract our lone comerade from uptown Algonquin. Lifting off was simple, with only one cop car arriving just as we were taking off. Our man managed to get himself into the heart of Algonquin, down to Times Square (or whatever the Liberty City equivalent is), and they told me to bring it down.

It was then that I was forced to confess one small flaw in my skills...While I was a master with a chopper in the air, landing was not something I was known for without bailing over water or straight out crashing. There was a silence among us in the chopper...Then, our designated leader told me to just do my best. So, I told our extractee over headset to follow the chopper to a more open area, free of the chance that I'll tear off a rotor on the side of a building. One thought that kept bothering me was-- where were the cops? With all the dallying we were doing, they should have been all over us.

The landing was rough...clipping two buildings, and almost wrecking entirely, finally touching down in the middle of a side street on the west side of town. We all high fived as we lifted off and made for safety. Before the mission ended, our boss said "Good work, Scraps...but you're not flying next time."

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