San Andreas: State of Sin (REBOOT; GTA RP; IC; OPEN)

[Cylarn]

OOC.

0756
SAN Newsroom
Los Santos, San Andreas
August 4th., 2009

In the SAN newsroom, the crew and cast of SAN's 8 O'Clock News Program were getting ready for the day's events. The stylists for the anchors were putting the finishing touches on the morning faces of SAN, with 3 minutes and 30 seconds before showtime. Once they finished up, it was almost time for the news to begin. The male and female anchor pair looked forward at the teleprompters in front of them, smiles on their faces as they waited to begin talking. The director stood by the teleprompter, smoking a cigarette as he counted down.

"5...4...3...2...1...and we're live!" he said.

"Good morning San Andreas! Welcome to the 8 O'Clock News, provided to you by SAN News," the male anchor said. "Your anchors Ron Mahogany and Veronica Cuttingstone are here to bring you the latest news!"

"East Los Santos was shocked earlier this morning when a shootout between members of the Petrovich Crime Family and the gang known as the Ballas left two men injured," Veronica said. "This comes after a recent spike in organized crime-related violence, that the Federal Investigation Bureau and the National Office of Security Enforcement are attributing to recent events in Liberty City, where a power vacuum caused by the deaths of multiple high-ranking officials in Italian-American crime syndicates and Eastern European crime syndicates, as well as Mayor Ochoa's anti-organized crime syndicate have forced various criminal organizations to head over to San Andreas for new territory. Governor Willis and Attorney General Blanchard have assured the citizens of San Andreas that the law enforcement organizations of San Andreas are doing everything in their power to fight organized crime in San Andreas."

---

0800
Eclipse Towers Penthouse 3
Vinewood, Los Santos
August 4th., 2009


This morning could not have been worse for City Councilman Doug Frazier. Like many politicians, he often mixed hookers and drugs, and that's where he went wrong. Now, the councilman was standing in the kitchen of his penthouse suite, a glass of scotch in his shaking hands as he contemplated the consequences of his errors. In the bedroom was a young woman, her body white and stiff with blood and saliva all over her face and chest as she lay lifeless on the white mattress. Despite the blood and her current state of death, she looked rather peaceful, as her eyes and mouth were closed, and a look of peace appeared on her face. Standing over her corpse was a well-built man wearing a well-tailored charcoal suit, with a silver dress shirt and an obsidian-colored tie. A pair of steel-rimmed, black-tinted Aviators hung from the left breast pocket of his coat, with his arms crossed underneath. This man was none other than Elliot Keller, a man of whom those in Vinewood trusted to take care of their problems. This particular scenario would be a difficult one to cover up, but most certainly one that could be rectified. To Keller, there were worse scenarios that Councilman Frazier could be in, and luckily, deaths of prostitutes were all too common in Los Santos. He had a plan, and he was sure that it would work.

Keller & Associates was known for its ability to get people out of trouble by bribing others to help out, and when it came to paying a maid $15,000 to transport the "laundry" out to the laundry van, as well as paying the driver of the laundry van $20,000 to transport the "laundry" out to an undisclosed location, such sacrifices were part of the game. Money was necessary for EVERYTHING in Los Santos, and luckily K&A had enough to spare in order to make things happen. Once the van and the "laundry" had left Eclipse on its way to meet some of Keller's associates who were waiting in Sandy Shores, the "fixer," as some called him, would approach Councilman Frazier, who was finishing off his scotch.

"Is...is it taken care of?" the councilman asked, his voice filled with dread and uncertainty.

"We took out the laundry, yes," Keller said, speaking in a high-class Southern accent. "Laundry has no connections, so no one will come lookin' for it. If anyone does, call your lawyer, but it's unlikely that anyone will come lookin' for owner-less laundry, right?"

"Yes, th-thank you," Frazier said. "Please, whatever you need-"

"What I need you to do first is leave," Keller said in response. "Go get some good press under your belt, by hangin' out with your family. Take the wife and kids to the park; it's a lovely day, and you need to clear your head."

"Y-yes," Frazier said in response. "I think I'll do that. Again, thank you."

10 minutes later...

Keller was sitting down at an outside table at the Vinewood Bean Machine Café, drinking a latte and smoking a cigar as he watched cars and pedestrians pass by. He needed to wind down after work, and this was the best way to do so. Tonight would be a different story though, as he had a party to go to.

[Skadrei]

Craig arose weakily from his deep slumber, a bottle of Jack Daniels lay on his bedside cabinet. He weakly checked his watch before getting out of his double bed and putting on his usual assortment of clothing. Eventually he retrieved a leather holster and placed his Sig Sauer P226 within it, after this he downed a shot of Scotch Whiskey before leaving his apartment.

[Prospect Landings]

South Los Santos

Holland slouched against the iron-linked fence that surrounded a rundown basketball court. Unusually, at the peak of the afternoon, the court was empty save Holland and a pair of bodyguards. The local kids kept to either side of the street, occasionally looking back at the trio of men, before returning to their games. Holland slipped a cheap cigarette between his lips, sucking in more smoke than air. Despite the heat, his men on either side were dressed in thick jackets, hands deeply tucked into their pockets. They glanced around the busy intersection, concerned, but composed. Holland kept cool in a white tee, plain black jeans, and tennis shoes, quietly smoking, waiting for his business associates to arrive.

[Zeinbrad]

Men in suits and bodyarmor came walking into the rundown basketball court, armed with SIG 556's and AR-15's. They wore mask,to hide their identity. There where about five of them, and they stopped near the 3 court line. One of them spoke, in a Liberty City accent. "So, you're our new costumers?" He said, he took out a notepad, with a list of the different costumers and their clothing styles on it, then put it back in his front pocket.

[Prospect Landings]

Men in suits and bodyarmor came walking into the rundown basketball court, armed with SIG 556's and AR-15's. They wore mask,to hide their identity. There where about five of them, and they stopped near the 3 court line. One of them spoke, in a Liberty City accent. "So, you're our new costumers?" He said, he took out a notepad, with a list of the different costumers and their clothing styles on it, then put it back in his front pocket.

Holland flicked his smoke. "I know somebody who be shoppin', but dependin'..." He turned his head away from the Man from Liberty City, "...dependin' on y'all tossin' that notepad. Right now."

[Kannap]

Downtown

Lexie woke up, as always, at 7:00. She fried some eggs and ate before heading to take a quick shower. She turned on the news at 8:00 but quickly turned it off, hearing nothing new. She quickly dressed in her work uniform and locked the door to her small apartment. She walked hurriedly one block to the cafe on the corner that she was employed at as a waitress. She began her shift at 9:00 and would be there until 4:00PM

[Cylarn]

Men in suits and bodyarmor came walking into the rundown basketball court, armed with SIG 556's and AR-15's. They wore mask,to hide their identity. There where about five of them, and they stopped near the 3 court line. One of them spoke, in a Liberty City accent. "So, you're our new costumers?" He said, he took out a notepad, with a list of the different costumers and their clothing styles on it, then put it back in his front pocket.

Despite the court being out in the Projects, there were still some law-abiding citizens in the area. Especially with the scares of organized crime and terrorism coming out of Liberty City, many people were on edge when it came to unscrupulous individuals openly walking around with firearms. One concerned local would phone the LSPD, and a car would promptly be dispatched.

---

"Any cars in Southern LS, we got a 415-George/417 at a local basketball court," the LSPD dispatcher reported. "Any unit to handle, Code 2."

"Dispatch, this is Car 14, heading to investigate the 415-George/417 in South LS, over," an officer reported.

"Roger that, Car 14. Be advised: suspects are reported to be armed."

"Roger that, Dispatch. Over and out."

An LSPD cruiser would soon drive through the area, and within a few minutes, they'd be some distance from the basketball court, though they could clearly see the armed men with their weapons and body armor. The cruiser stopped, and the officers reported their findings.

"Dispatch, this is Car 14."

"Go ahead, Car 14."

"We're at the scene of the 415-George/417 in South LS. Suspects are confirmed to be armed with assault weaponry and body armor. Requesting SWAT backup."

"Copy that, Car 14. All available units, be advised, backup has been requested in South LS. Code 2. Special Weapons and Tactics will be mobilized. Establish roadblocks in the area."

The two officers of Car 14 would don their tac vests and exit their vehicle, choosing to wait for backup to arrive. Meanwhile, officers would be setting up roadblocks within a half-mile radius of the area. Fear immediately crept up the spines of the LSPD, and if this was some sort of terrorist plot, they needed to stop it. SWAT was en route, but it would take some time for the LSPD to be completely prepared.

[Zeinbrad]

Men in suits and bodyarmor came walking into the rundown basketball court, armed with SIG 556's and AR-15's. They wore mask,to hide their identity. There where about five of them, and they stopped near the 3 court line. One of them spoke, in a Liberty City accent. "So, you're our new costumers?" He said, he took out a notepad, with a list of the different costumers and their clothing styles on it, then put it back in his front pocket.

Holland flicked his smoke. "I know somebody who be shoppin', but dependin'..." He turned his head away from the Man from Liberty City, "...dependin' on y'all tossin' that notepad. Right now."

The Overkill Operative just sighed. "If you insist" He said, tearing out the page, and crumbling it, and then throwing it to a trash can near by. Luckily it's a inexpensive notepad He thought, knowing he could just get a new one without giving a arm and a leg. "Now, you our costumers" He said again. He then heard a beep from his earpiece, and answered.

"Yes?....Fuck. Guys, we need to get out of here, LSPD is on it's way." He then turned and walked to Holland, and whispered into his ear.

"Deal is off for now, let's meet in a less public area next time" Then began to run, towards an alley way, with two bags full of Type 56's in it, two of the operatives grabbed the bags, and they began to run, going form alley way to alley way. Hoping to get to the sewers.

[Prospect Landings]

Holland picked out a new cigarette lit it up as the police swarmed around the tennis court, "Dumbass clowns," he said, waiting for the inevitable handcuffs to slap around his wrists.

[Cylarn]

Holland picked out a new cigarette lit it up as the police swarmed around the tennis court, "Dumbass clowns," he said, waiting for the inevitable handcuffs to slap around his wrists.

When the criminals began running for the nearest sewer entrance, the police moved in, radioing for backup. The majority of the cops, and the SWAT team, pursued the terrorists, while a few officers secured the dropped weapons and surrounded the gangbangers. One of the men at the scene would approach the gangbangers, identifying himself as an FIB Agent. He sized up the two men, and began to speak.

"So gentlemen, the LSPD can take y'all in for aiding terrorists, or we can play things my way," he stated. "So, if one of you cares to come with me to the local station and provide me with intel on those terrorists, I'll let y'all go."

[Prospect Landings]

Holland picked out a new cigarette lit it up as the police swarmed around the tennis court, "Dumbass clowns," he said, waiting for the inevitable handcuffs to slap around his wrists.

When the criminals began running for the nearest sewer entrance, the police moved in, radioing for backup. The majority of the cops, and the SWAT team, pursued the terrorists, while a few officers secured the dropped weapons and surrounded the gangbangers. One of the men at the scene would approach the gangbangers, identifying himself as an FIB Agent. He sized up the two men, and began to speak.

"So gentlemen, the LSPD can take y'all in for aiding terrorists, or we can play things my way," he stated. "So, if one of you cares to come with me to the local station and provide me with intel on those terrorists, I'll let y'all go."

Neither of Holland's bodyguards met the FIB's gaze. Holland pushed off the chainlink fence, taking in a deep drag of smoke. He exhaled in front of the FIB officer, never taking his eyes off the agent. Closing his eyes, he shook his head, and then leaned back on the fence again.

[Cylarn]

When the criminals began running for the nearest sewer entrance, the police moved in, radioing for backup. The majority of the cops, and the SWAT team, pursued the terrorists, while a few officers secured the dropped weapons and surrounded the gangbangers. One of the men at the scene would approach the gangbangers, identifying himself as an FIB Agent. He sized up the two men, and began to speak.

"So gentlemen, the LSPD can take y'all in for aiding terrorists, or we can play things my way," he stated. "So, if one of you cares to come with me to the local station and provide me with intel on those terrorists, I'll let y'all go."

Neither of Holland's bodyguards met the FIB's gaze. Holland pushed off the chainlink fence, taking in a deep drag of smoke. He exhaled in front of the FIB officer, never taking his eyes off the agent. Closing his eyes, he shook his head, and then leaned back on the fence again.

"Well then, I hope you like being someone's bitch. Just know that we could've played this the easy way, with you gentlemen being viewed as patriots," he said. "Officers..."

The small team of LSPD officers would soon take over, apprehending the gangbangers, searching them for weapons and narcotics, cuffing them, and leading them to a waiting paddy wagon, which would immediately head out onto the road once the men were inside.

[Prospect Landings]

Neither of Holland's bodyguards met the FIB's gaze. Holland pushed off the chainlink fence, taking in a deep drag of smoke. He exhaled in front of the FIB officer, never taking his eyes off the agent. Closing his eyes, he shook his head, and then leaned back on the fence again.

"Well then, I hope you like being someone's bitch. Just know that we could've played this the easy way, with you gentlemen being viewed as patriots," he said. "Officers..."

The small team of LSPD officers would soon take over, apprehending the gangbangers, searching them for weapons and narcotics, cuffing them, and leading them to a waiting paddy wagon, which would immediately head out onto the road once the men were inside.

Holland and his men remained silent as they were carried off in the police vehicle. Holland forever calm, nodded to his men for reassurance, as he was manhandled into the vehicle. Officers would find a pair of brass knuckles and a knife in the possession of Holland's boys, but Holland himself was clean of anything illegal.

[Zeinbrad]

"Night-vision goggles" The leader of the Overkill operatives said, as he flipped on his night-vision goggles. They where in the sewers, waiting for things to blow over. They took a left. "Dallas is so going to kick our ass for screwing this up" One of them said, in the Texan accent.

"Probably, but hey,at least we tried" The leader said.

"He'll care, where lucky the cartels in mexico still take our guns"

"And the Ballas, and the Families, and the Vagos" The leader said.

"Yeah, but how long will that last if we keep on screwing up?"

"Not long at all"

"Let's hope the big four can do a good job at damage control" The Leader said, talking about Dallas, Hoxton,Wolf and Chains.

Some airfield outside of the city.
Dallas stood at an airfield about twenty miles outside the city,waiting. A operative came up to him, and tapped on his shoulder then whispered into his ear.

Dallas's eye's went wide, and then into anger.

"God fucking dammit! I give them one simple task and they mess it up!" He yelled.

"What do you advise we do...Sir" The Operative asked.

"We can't break them out, there just a simple street gang, not even a large one. Plus, we don't want to be kicked out of here before we expand" Dallas mused.

He began to think.

"Get the others" He said, before walking off.

[Kadolha]

Los Santos Port, San Andreas

"OK, this is my 1st time I arrive here, so no need to blame me or something!" said Zai in a angry voice. "We shall start earning profits with Drug Trafficking and many more! We can't just sit here and wait the CASH to come to us from ALONE!". The Orchid Black Triads are about to start doing something to earn profit in Little Korea. If it comes to a street war with some gang, we can handle that, the Triads were never weak, and will never be. "OK, shall we begin with this crap now? OK then, there will be a Truck with loads of drugs, it will arrive at a Little Korea factory at one alley. But one thing, there will be even lots of guards. This might even bring to a street war, but when we open the truck, we will just see some fish in front of us, but behind the fish, there will be crates with lots of cocaine in it. I think I got this planned." said Zai.

[Cylarn]

"Night-vision goggles" The leader of the Overkill operatives said, as he flipped on his night-vision goggles. They where in the sewers, waiting for things to blow over. They took a left. "Dallas is so going to kick our ass for screwing this up" One of them said, in the Texan accent.

"Probably, but hey,at least we tried" The leader said.

"He'll care, where lucky the cartels in mexico still take our guns"

"And the Ballas, and the Families, and the Vagos" The leader said.

"Yeah, but how long will that last if we keep on screwing up?"

"Not long at all"

"Let's hope the big four can do a good job at damage control" The Leader said, talking about Dallas, Hoxton,Wolf and Chains.

Some airfield outside of the city.
Dallas stood at an airfield about twenty miles outside the city,waiting. A operative came up to him, and tapped on his shoulder then whispered into his ear.

Dallas's eye's went wide, and then into anger.

"God fucking dammit! I give them one simple task and they mess it up!" He yelled.

"What do you advise we do...Sir" The Operative asked.

"We can't break them out, there just a simple street gang, not even a large one. Plus, we don't want to be kicked out of here before we expand" Dallas mused.

He began to think.

"Get the others" He said, before walking off.

The team was pursued into the sewers by a combined force of SWAT and regular officers, with a NOoSE team heading them off at the other end of the sewers. The operation was rather quick, due to the extensive counter-terrorism training of the SWAT and NOoSE tactical teams. The Overkill operatives would soon find themselves slowly being cornered in the sewers, with bright taclights illuminating the sewers and interfering with their Night Vision Goggles.

"LSPD! You're under arrest!"

"National Office of Security Enforcement! Surrender now!"

The teams took cover, waiting for either a firefight or the surrender of the the Overkill operatives.

[Marsisian]

Basement Headquarters, Vespucci



Victor Manuel and a few other major Santos Red Coat members were meeting, talking about the current situation in Vespucci. "So, there are a ton of new gangs coming to LS from Liberty City, I don't like it one bit. Old gangs like us got to stand up against them." Then Manuel replied. "We gotta fully secure Vespucci from the Vagos before moving out of the region. I want a few members to try and push them out of our turf. This is ours, and they'd better know it. Or else, we're going to come knocking on their door in Rancho. You got it?" "Yeah, we do." "Good. Now get them out." The other members left, and brought the members under their command for the job, then got into their cars, which were all red (The gang's color) and mostly Gallivanter Baller SUVs. They then turned on the engines, and started to drive to a possible Vagos base in the area of Vespucci.

[Whittington]

0800
760 South Month Milton Drive
Rockford Hills, Los Santos
August 4th, 2009

Allegra Cole stepped out of her shower and set her foot onto the heated marble floor tiles. She cracked open a window, letting the steam pour to clear the condensation off of her vanity mirror. She tightly wrapped the towel around herself and let her hair air dry as she began her beauty regamin. She put on moisturizer, a bit of bronzer, then began to apply foundation, followed by eye shadow. Allegra held her hand steady as she applied black eyeliner and mascara, not wanting to scratch her cornea like she did the other day. Once her hair was dry enough, she blow dried the rest of it, and styled it into a neat pony tail, with her bangs swept to the side. After giving herself a look over, Allegra applied some lip gloss and a spritz of perfume.

Hearing her iFruit ring, she walked into her bedroom and placed the phone on speaker phone.

"Allegra!! Allegra!!" The voice on the other line called out.

"Lazlow, how did you get my number?"

"Allegra please, it's important."

"You have thirty seconds."

"Allegra, Liberty City isn't working out for me, please. I heard there's an opening for Fame or Shame."

"There might be."

"Please Allegra. I need this."

"Lazlow, don't beg. Even for you, that's pretty low. I'll see what I can do. But don't ever call me again."

"Thank you so much Allegra, you wont-" *click*.

Allegra hung up the phone and threw it onto her bed as she went into her closet to pick an outfit out. She mulled it over for a bit before stepping into black fitted slacks, a black bustier, a black fitted cropped blazer and snake skin Johnny Tung stilettos. She grabbed her Le Chin black python handbag, blood orange tin sunglasses, the keys to her Gallivanter Baller and walked out to her car. As Allegra went up her driveway, she spotted a package near her front door. Thinking they were the shoes she had ordered online, she got of her car and went to retrieve the package. As Allegra walked up to her front door, she stopped dead in her tracks. The top of the brown box was open, and something was pooling on the bottom of it. She stepped closer and looked in to see wilted roses and the carcass of a bird. Allegra took out her iFruit, snapped a photo and made a mental note to contact Elliot. For the last month or so, she had been getting hang-up calls during the night, flowers from an anonymous sender, and now this. Allegra had an idea who it was though, Jacob Brookstone, a reality star who's television show tanked and was canceled. Jacob was her client, but she dropped him before the show aired, and for some reason, he blames the failure on her.

After discarding the box, Allegra got back into her Baller. She was heading to the studio to do a casting call for a new show, The Underbelly of Paradise. Stuck in traffic, she made a call to her assistant.

"Jackie. Are we on schedule?"

"Yes we are. You have an about an hour and a half before we call anyone in. FIB sent over an agent, Steve Haines. They think he might be a good front man for the show."

"We'll see about that. I''ll be in a bit, stopping for coffee."

"Alright Allegra, we'll see you then. Oh and your dress from G&B arrived this morning for the party tonight."

"Perfect. See you in a bit."

Allegra pulled up to the Vinewood Bean Machine Café and walked inside the busy shop to get her usual caramel macchiato. As she made her way outside, she saw a familiar face. Since she had a moment to spare, she decided to greet her friend.

"Elliot! I was just thinking about you." Allegra said as she greeted Elliot Keller with a kiss on his cheek, before sitting down across from him. Elliot Keller had one of the best private security firms in town and elliot was her go to guy for things that needed to be fixed.

[Zeinbrad]

"Well motherfucking shit" one of the Overkill operatives. They assumed defensive position.

"What do we do!" One of them said in panicky kind of voice. The leader whispered.

"Code Red and blue" He said, before destroying his notepad,his eyepiece and other equipment, he then brought out a M1911 pistol raised it to his head and....pulled the trigger, no way was he going to jail, with no chance of getting out. The rest did the same, raising their pistols to their heads, preferring death now over death row or life in prison. But one, was sobbing, a pistol in his hand, with it pointed to his head, but when he pulled the trigger, it simply made a clicking sound. It was jammed.

"Come on you piece of shit! Work! I rather die now!" He yelled, in a philly accent.

[Cylarn]

"Well motherfucking shit" one of the Overkill operatives. They assumed defensive position.

"What do we do!" One of them said in panicky kind of voice. The leader whispered.

"Code Red and blue" He said, before destroying his notepad,his eyepiece and other equipment, he then brought out a M1911 pistol raised it to his head and....pulled the trigger, no way was he going to jail, with no chance of getting out. The rest did the same, raising their pistols to their heads, preferring death now over death row or life in prison. But one, was sobbing, a pistol in his hand, with it pointed to his head, but when he pulled the trigger, it simply made a clicking sound. It was jammed.

"Come on you piece of shit! Work! I rather die now!" He yelled, in a philly accent.

As the men begin killing themselves, a taser would be fired at his back, immobilizing him as several SWAT officers rushed up and restrained the operative before evacuating from the tunnels as CSI arrived to clean up the scene.

Basement Headquarters, Vespucci

(Image)

Victor Manuel and a few other major Santos Red Coat members were meeting, talking about the current situation in Vespucci. "So, there are a ton of new gangs coming to LS from Liberty City, I don't like it one bit. Old gangs like us got to stand up against them." Then Manuel replied. "We gotta fully secure Vespucci from the Vagos before moving out of the region. I want a few members to try and push them out of our turf. This is ours, and they'd better know it. Or else, we're going to come knocking on their door in Rancho. You got it?" "Yeah, we do." "Good. Now get them out." The other members left, and brought the members under their command for the job, then got into their cars, which were all red (The gang's color) and mostly Gallivanter Baller SUVs. They then turned on the engines, and started to drive to a possible Vagos base in the area of Vespucci.

As the Coats rode up, they would immediately be spotted by the Vagos, who watched the red convoy travel through. Phone calls were sent out, and the Vagos began to start moving their products out of their local OG's house, while they began to beef up security by sending some Wannabes and Associates to the house in order to provide security.

0800
760 South Month Milton Drive
Rockford Hills, Los Santos
August 4th, 2009

Allegra Cole stepped out of her shower and set her foot onto the heated marble floor tiles. She cracked open a window, letting the steam pour to clear the condensation off of her vanity mirror. She tightly wrapped the towel around herself and let her hair air dry as she began her beauty regamin. She put on moisturizer, a bit of bronzer, then began to apply foundation, followed by eye shadow. Allegra held her hand steady as she applied black eyeliner and mascara, not wanting to scratch her cornea like she did the other day. Once her hair was dry enough, she blow dried the rest of it, and styled it into a neat pony tail, with her bangs swept to the side. After giving herself a look over, Allegra applied some lip gloss and a spritz of perfume.

Hearing her iFruit ring, she walked into her bedroom and placed the phone on speaker phone.

"Allegra!! Allegra!!" The voice on the other line called out.

"Lazlow, how did you get my number?"

"Allegra please, it's important."

"You have thirty seconds."

"Allegra, Liberty City isn't working out for me, please. I heard there's an opening for Fame or Shame."

"There might be."

"Please Allegra. I need this."

"Lazlow, don't beg. Even for you, that's pretty low. I'll see what I can do. But don't ever call me again."

"Thank you so much Allegra, you wont-" *click*.

Allegra hung up the phone and threw it onto her bed as she went into her closet to pick an outfit out. She mulled it over for a bit before stepping into black fitted slacks, a black bustier, a black fitted cropped blazer and snake skin Johnny Tung stilettos. She grabbed her Le Chin black python handbag, blood orange tin sunglasses, the keys to her Gallivanter Baller and walked out to her car. As Allegra went up her driveway, she spotted a package near her front door. Thinking they were the shoes she had ordered online, she got of her car and went to retrieve the package. As Allegra walked up to her front door, she stopped dead in her tracks. The top of the brown box was open, and something was pooling on the bottom of it. She stepped closer and looked in to see wilted roses and the carcass of a bird. Allegra took out her iFruit, snapped a photo and made a mental note to contact Elliot. For the last month or so, she had been getting hang-up calls during the night, flowers from an anonymous sender, and now this. Allegra had an idea who it was though, Jacob Brookstone, a reality star who's television show tanked and was canceled. Jacob was her client, but she dropped him before the show aired, and for some reason, he blames the failure on her.

After discarding the box, Allegra got back into her Baller. She was heading to the studio to do a casting call for a new show, The Underbelly of Paradise. Stuck in traffic, she made a call to her assistant.

"Jackie. Are we on schedule?"

"Yes we are. You have an about an hour and a half before we call anyone in. FIB sent over an agent, Steve Haines. They think he might be a good front man for the show."

"We'll see about that. I''ll be in a bit, stopping for coffee."

"Alright Allegra, we'll see you then. Oh and your dress from G&B arrived this morning for the party tonight."

"Perfect. See you in a bit."

Allegra pulled up to the Vinewood Bean Machine Café and walked inside the busy shop to get her usual caramel macchiato. As she made her way outside, she saw a familiar face. Since she had a moment to spare, she decided to greet her friend.

"Elliot! I was just thinking about you." Allegra said as she greeted Elliot Keller with a kiss on his cheek, before sitting down across from him. Elliot Keller had one of the best private security firms in town and elliot was her go to guy for things that needed to be fixed.

As Elliot finished off his cigar, he would soon hear someone familiar calling out his name. He turned to see the attractive Miss Allegra appearing and kissing him on the cheek. Allegra was a good girl, and smoking on top of that. He smiled at her as she sat down.

"How are you doin' today, Allegra?" he asked in a pleasant tone of voice.

[Whittington]

As Elliot finished off his cigar, he would soon hear someone familiar calling out his name. He turned to see the attractive Miss Allegra appearing and kissing him on the cheek. Allegra was a good girl, and smoking on top of that. He smiled at her as she sat down.

"How are you doin' today, Allegra?" he asked in a pleasant tone of voice.

"Busy as always. I have to head over to the studio, we're doing a casting call for a new show, The Underbelly of Paradise. It's a crime show that gives viewers the glimpse of the grittier side of San Andreas. Supposedly some highly decorated FIB Agent is auditioning today. We'll see how that goes. I wish I could sit out here and just people watch like you do." Allegra said in one breath before taking a sip on her coffee. She knew right now was the perfect moment to bring up what happened this morning. Allegra looked around to be sure no paparazzi was in sight or anyone could hear their conversation.

"Elliot, I hate to talk about business when we're not working, but I need a favor. I told you about a month ago about a disgruntled client of mine, Jacob Brookstone. Hang-up calls in the night, flowers being sent to the studio, showing up at events. Now I'm not 100% sure it was him, but today as I was pulling out of my driveway, I noticed something at my door. This is what I found." Allegra said as she pulled up the picture on her phone. The photo was a top down view of the box, wilted red roses with a half eaten bird, it's head was missing.

The smile on her face had turned into a scowl and she placed the phone back into her purse."Elliot, I'm going to need a total overhaul on my security system at my house. I have a gate, but obviously that didn't stop whoever put that there. I know it's short notice, but hopefully your team could come by the house today, if possible, and set up new surveillance equipment. Cost isn't an issue."

[Gvozdevsk]

Vinewood, Los Santos

Waking from her sleep, Gintare looked at the clock beside her bed. It read 5:00 AM. A normal time for her to wake up. Not by choice, but due to recurring nightmares where she finds herself once again back in the Caucasus mountains, killing Russian conscripts from two kilometers away with a high powered rifle. A job she was forced into by threat of violence against her and her family by Chechen mujahideen.

Getting out of bed and walking into the kitchen in her small apartment, Gintare looked at the calender on her fridge. She had an appointment with her psychologist today at 7:00 AM. She usually had early appointments, which were not a problem for her due to usually being awake so early. Since arriving in Los Santos, she had been seeing a psychologist, hoping she would finally be able to put all the killing behind her and get a legitimate job. Maybe even return home to Lithuania one day, where she was assumed to have been kidnapped and most likely killed.

By the time Gintare had eaten breakfast, showered and was finished getting ready for the day, it was 6:45 AM. She had to hurry if she wanted to make it to her appointment on time. She left her apartment, going into the buildings parking garage to find her Buffalo. She got in the car and drove off towards an office building a few blocks away, where the psychologist's office was located.

She was able to arrive at the office only a couple minutes late and found her psychologist, Dr. Rodriguez, a Hispanic man in his mid 30s, waiting for her. As she walked into the office and sat down, Dr. Rodriguez went to close the door behind her.

"So Gintare, how have we been doing since our last visit?" Dr. Rodriguez asked.

"I've still been having those dreams where I'm being forced to shoot Russian soldiers over and over again," Gintare said.

"This is nothing I haven't seen before," Dr. Rodriguez began. "I deal with soldiers coming back from the Middle East and violent criminals who want to turn themselves around all the time. You've killed a lot of people, and you think what you did was wrong."

It was wrong, I was being forced against my will to kill 18 year old kids by Al Qaeda linked terrorists and then later on doing the exact same thing for the Russian Mafia, and now some crime syndicate in Los Santos is probably going to want me to do the exact same thing."

I'm not saying it wasn't wrong. You just need to come to terms with what you've done and realize it's in the past now."

The appointment with Dr. Rodriguez would continue for the next hour or so. Like usual, Gintare would feel that very little progress had been made. After the appointment, she would drive to Del Perro beach and sit on a park bench, reading the news and looking at job listings on her phone.

How do I get a legitimate job when my only marketable skills are killing Russian conscripts from 2000 meters and building simple IEDs? she though to herself.

[Marsisian]

Vespucci

The leader of the Coats members decided to try to negotiate with the Vagos instead of trying to start an all-out gang war. He and a few Coats members decided to talk with the leader of the Vagos for a meeting. But first, they needed to contact the leader of the Vagos. They sent a few members to a location where there were Vagos members, and raised a white flag, signaling they were not here for war. "Hey, we're part of the Santos Red Coats, as you know. Now, we want to reach an agreement on Vespucci. Our leader wants to talk with yours about this."

[Kannap]

At around noon in the cafe, Lexie took her lunch break. She sat down at a booth near the window and began to eat her lunch while she browsed a newspaper that was left by a customer earlier in the morning. She only had thirty minutes of lunch break, and she usually had the food eaten in the first ten so that she could read the paper. Today was no exception, she finished her lunch in about nine minutes and started to read the news.

[Miyager]

Brett woke up at 7:30. The same time he woke up every morning; "Fuck me" he thought to himself as he rolled out of bed and walked into the living room, flipping the TV on and pretending to care about what was on. He didn't have to wake up at 7:30; he didn't have to be at work until 9:45, but he liked to be fully awake by the time he got there and there was always the chance he could get something done before he showed up. Brushing his teeth and hopping in the shower, he was done just in time to see the news report about the shootout between the Petrovich Crime Family and the Ballas. He paid attention to the full story, since it sparked some memories within' him: he had some interaction with the Petrovich's, and though it confused him somewhat that they had a presence in Los Santos, he didn't care too much of it. Like most mornings, Brett got nothing done when he said he would, instead choosing to watch Republican Space Rangers and having a minimal workout session.

Still, he didn't feel like going to work: but when did he ever? Exiting his apartment, and taking his Primo, he departed for work. Another day as a Baritsa for hipster university students.