Grand Theft Auto: Vice City Stories (Rewrite)

Chapter 1: Soldier

It was a nice, hot summer in the beautiful afternoon in a southern state called Vice City, Florida. The date was August 1, 1984. A Barracks OL was driving through the streets and entered the Fort Baxter Air Base, in which it finally came to the stop.

Out hopped a 28-year-old soldier, Victor Vance, a bald man who wore an orange T-shirt over camouflage pants and black boots.
Victor Vance was a Dominican-American soldier who had dreams of joining the military. Victor's father, Alfonso, was Dominican and he and his wife moved to Virginia after their marriage, where Vic was born in. Vic had two younger brothers named Lance and Pete. The former was never up to any good and often put Vic into trouble, and the latter had severe asthma. Shortly after Pete's birth, Vic's mother passed away due to health complications, and about two months later, Alfonso met a Caucasian woman named Janet, who he would marry just less than ten months later. But things turned from bad to worse when Vic's father also passed away due to accidental drug overdose, and Janet became a hopeless cocaine addict, rendering her unable to care for the three brothers, who were eventually sent to Alfonso's sister, Enid's house, to grow up around her.

Since then, Vic has had to promote himself as the guardian of his two brothers and provided enough money to help them out. After graduating from college with a Bachelor's degree in 1980, Vic spent most of his time providing enough jobs to earn just the right amount of money to provide his dysfunctional family. It wasn't until then that he decided it was time for him to make a career for himself, and it would get him enough money to finally give Pete his asthma medication.

So he traveled to Vice City to join the army. He was an amateur soldier at best, as while he was definitely good at handling a weapon and fighting, he still needed a lot to learn before he was ready to be in the military.

He entered the office to find a Latino-American sergeant wearing camouflage and holding a cigar sitting behind his desk with his feet resting on the desktop. Vic turned to face the sergeant.

"Vic Vance reporting for duty sir!" he told the sergeant vociferously.

The sergeant just chuckled. "Relax, relax," he told Vic. "Are you well?"

"Yes, thank you, Sergeant!" Vic answered.

"Good," the sergeant replied. "In here, you can call me Jerry."

"Okay," Vic responded.

"Okay... Jerry, huh?" Jerry laughed as he hopped out of his chair and paced towards Vic. "Now, Vic, tell me... why did you sign up, huh? To stay out of jail? Because you like getting shouted at, huh? What makes you polish your boots and put bullets in your gun in the hopes that maybe you'll get to shoot someone, huh?" Jerry chuckled some more.

"I got a difficult family," Vic answered nonchalantly. "I got responsibilities."

"What, kids?" Jerry asked as he returned to his seat. "A broad giving you shit?"

"No, brothers," Vic told him. "One is real sick, asthma, and I gotta pay the bills, the other, well, maybe he's sick too, but in a different way... My mom's a mess."

"So, you joined the army... to get rich?" Jerry asked.

"Not exactly," Vic answered. "But y'know, my dad he came here from D.R., we didn't have a lot of opportunities. What else was I supposed to do? Why did you join up?"

"To get rich!" Jerry replied facetiously. He let out another hard chuckle.

"Why are you messing with me, sergeant?" Vic asked, looking rather annoyed.

"I ain't," Jerry replied. "Chill. Relax. Take a seat."

So Vic walked up to the chair in front of the desk and took a seat.

"Look, Vic," Jerry told the soldier. "There are plenty of opportunities for a man who knows the game to make real money. So..."

"I don't want any trouble, man," Vic protested.

"Who wants trouble?" Jerry asked. "Nobody. Everybody wants to relax. No trouble. And there's plenty of money to be made. Nice and easy."

"Listen," Vic told the sergeant as he hopped out of his seat and started walking away, "I don't think this is for me. So, if there's nothing else..."

"Hey, relax, huh?" Jerry told him. "Come on Vic. I need a favor. No risk."

"So why do you need me if there's no risk?" Vic asked.

"Because I gotta take registration," Jerry answered. "Besides, you're not on duty for a couple of days. Listen, you take my bike, you go over to the airport and you pick up a package for me, huh?"

"Okay," Vic answered reluctantly. "Just this one favor and that's it."

"Good," Jerry answered. He started laughing as Vic began walking away. He never expected a sergeant to be so laid-back and facetious.

At least I have someone to humor me, he thought.

He and Jerry were now outside minutes later.

"Listen," Jerry told Vic, "if plans change, I'll let you know."

He handed Vic a pager. "What's this?" Vic asked.

"It's a pager, tough guy," Jerry answered. "Welcome to the 80's, Vic."

As Jerry walked away, Vic strapped the pager to his belt and hopped onto a motorbike right in front of him. He started the engine and began to accelerate. As he approached the gates, he made a right turn on the road to locate the V.I.P. terminal at the airport. As he drove straight down the road, he saw the Escobar International Airport straight ahead.

Vic then hopped off the bike and walked over to the airport. Right next to an airplane, he saw who appeared to be a Latino man wearing a blue suit.

"Hey, army boy," the man said. "Jerry sent you, si?"

"Jerry?" Vic asked, until he finally realized who he was talking about. "Ah, Sergeant Martinez. Sure."

"Come with me, soldier," the man told Vic guiding him towards the shore. "I've got something for your boss."

The man took Vic to the docks to his Marquis. "Man, life's been good to you!" Vic told the man.

The latter just let out a nonchalant chuckle. "Hm-hmmm," he replied. "Come on, let's take a ride."

He and Vic hopped onto the Marquis, which was replete with a couple of women wearing bikinis. As the Marquis starting moving to the deep end of the ocean, the Latino man handed Vic the package.

"Here's Jerry's stuff," the man told Vic. "Tell him my cut goes up next time. Vice City's getting too peligroso for us freelancers!"

Just then, a couple of speedboats arrived. "Speaking of which," the man continued, "we've got company! Grab that gun and take them out!"

He handed Vic an assault rifle, which Vic used to fire at the gunmen in each of the two speedboats. But the Marquis he and the others were in quickly caught fire. "Abandon ship!" the man shouted. Those were his last words before the boat finally exploded, killing everyone on board.

Vic and the Latino man, on the other hand, had hopped out just in time and swam to shore, avoiding the gunmen on each of the two speedboats. They both made it to shore, and Vic held on tightly to the package. As he heard his pager beep, he set the stuff onto the ground and took the pager off his belt to read it. It was from Jerry Martinez.

"Hide the 'stuff' in your barracks man..." the text said.

So Vic strapped his pager back onto his belt, picked up the stuff, and ran back to the Fort Baxter Air Base inside to return to his barracks.
Vic walked inside the barracks and looked around. There were rows of beds around the room. A pistol lay on the floor by the third bed to the right. As Vic walked inside, he set the package on the floor and slid them under the bed on the right.

Vic took a rest on the bed and stared at the ceiling. He figured he should take a small rest and think about the responsibilities as a military soldier. He knew it was going to be tough, and he was prepared for any painstaking physical task he would be given. After all, he was the only one in the family who finished college and had far bigger goals than everyone else. So Vic decided to take a small nap on the bed.