After getting Avery’s rival all fired up about his new proposal, I decided to accept Colonel Cortez’s dinner invitation.
As we eat -- some weird damn thing from down south -- he tells me about his efforts to find who hit our deal. He’s not making a lot of progress, but he does know that a guy inside his organization, Gonzales, is the one who talked. He’d like me to pay the schmuck a visit.
I told him I was more interested in finding the money than tidying his own loose ends, but he insisted. “Use this,” he says, motioning for one of his men to place something down on the table.
…..this guy’s a fucking psycho. Jesus Christ, remind me not to fuck with him.
I drive over to the apartment building where Gonzales lives. I stroll oh-so casually inside carrying my shotgun, then convince an elevator man to take me to the Penthouse floor. Turns out Gonzales is on the roof.
He tries to run for it. I stop him with shot, then hit him a few more times to make sure. After spotting a Tiki statue mounted in the corner, I head back downstairs. The police were called.
I lost my fear of the VCPD pretty damn quick in my first coupla weeks in Vice. They’re not corrupt as all hell like in Liberty City, but they’re underpaid and go out of their way to avoid trouble. I’ve jacked eleven cars in my few weeks here, with no consequences whatsoever. So I ain’t too scared when a cop car pulls up to the hotel, nor need I be. I take off in the direction of the mall, and they lose interest.
This place is a hoodlum’s paradise.
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