You arrive at your safehouse at 3321 Vice Point, a pale green building with a stark, modern design. Palm trees line the front, and the ocean waves crash behind it, creating a sense of both tranquility and isolation.
Entering your apartment, you step into a dimly lit room with sparse furnishings—a worn-out sofa, a coffee table littered with magazines, and a flickering TV. The walls are adorned with maps and notes, evidence of your meticulous planning.
You sit at a small wooden desk in the corner, pulling out a hidden drawer to reveal your cache of weapons. You count them methodically: a Colt Python, a Micro Uzi, and a combat shotgun. Each one has its place in your arsenal, ready for whatever comes next.
As you finish, your mind drifts to the recent events. The unexpected survival of Diaz, the chaotic drug deal, and the tangled web of alliances and betrayals. The pieces of the puzzle are there, but they don't yet form a complete picture. The unease gnaws at you, but you know one thing for certain: Vice City is a game of power, and you're determined to come out on top.
You decide to call it a night, lying down on your bed, the weight of the day pressing on you. As soon as your eyes close, you're plunged into a vivid, unsettling dream.
A large woman with a commanding presence approaches you. Her face is partly shrouded in shadows, but her piercing eyes hold you captive. Her voice is thick with a Haitian accent, dripping with an eerie mix of authority and familiarity.
"Tommy, take dis," she says, her voice rich and melodic, as she hands you a bowl filled with a bubbling, ugly liquid.
You hesitate, "What is this?"
"Drink it, child, and you will understand," she replies, her tone almost hypnotic.
The smell is foul, and a sense of dread washes over you. As you bring the bowl closer, you ask, "Who are you?"
Her face remains hidden, but she leans in closer, "Who I am don't matter. Now. Drink, Tommy."
Your hand shakes as you hover over the strange concoction. The tension thickens, her presence becoming almost suffocating. Just as you decide to take a sip, you jolt awake, heart pounding in your chest. The room is dark and silent, yet the vividness of the dream leaves you rattled.
Her words echo in your mind. "What the hell was that?" you mutter, trying to shake off the lingering dread. The day's events, the enigmatic dream, and the looming shadows all weave into a tight knot of confusion and foreboding.
You pull up to Avery's construction site in Vice Point, your Infernus gliding to a stop. Avery had called earlier, hinting at a lucrative opportunity that needed your special touch. As you step out, the scent of fresh concrete and the sound of heavy machinery fill the air.
Avery spots you and waves, his cowboy hat tilted at a jaunty angle. "Tommy, my boy," he drawls, his voice dripping with southern charm. "Glad you could make it."
"What's the job, Avery?" you ask, getting straight to the point.
Avery leans against his limousine, eyes twinkling with anticipation. "There's some prime real estate up the road," he begins, pointing towards the north. "But those folks have already started building on it. We need to halt that construction. Permanently."
You nod, sensing the weight of the task. "So, you want me to...?"
Avery grins. "Demolish it. There's a Top Fun van parked nearby with an RC Goblin and four bombs. You'll use it to plant those explosives around the site. But here's the kicker—you've got seven minutes to do it once you start."
"Seven minutes? Why so specific?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.
"Security rotations," Avery explains. "You've got a window where the guards are switching shifts. Any longer, and you'll be swarmed. Those workers and guards won't take kindly to an RC helicopter flying around with bombs."
You take a deep breath, understanding the stakes. "Alright, Avery. Consider it done."
Avery claps you on the shoulder. "That's what I like to hear. Good luck, Tommy."
You head towards the van, ready to execute the plan with the clock ticking and the pressure mounting.
You walk over to the van, inspecting it. The van is a nondescript gray vehicle with colorful "TOPFUN" branding, making it look more like a mobile toy store than a tool for destruction. As you check out the contents, you snicker, "What am I? Five?" The back is loaded with an array of equipment, including the RC Goblin and the bombs.
Nearby, construction workers in hard hats and grimy clothes are busy with their tasks, unaware of the chaos about to unfold. The security detail, members of the Patrol Invest Group, patrols the area, their presence a mix of legitimate security and shady protection services. They are dressed in dark blue uniforms with "PIGs" emblazoned on their chests, and they wield batons and handguns, ready to crack down on any trouble.
You climb into the back of the Top Fun van and find the RC control panel. The interior is surprisingly high-tech, with screens displaying live feeds from the RC Goblin's camera. The helicopter itself is small but sturdy, with a sleek, aerodynamic design painted in bright colors. It has a compact body with four rotors, making it highly maneuverable.
The bombs are small, cylindrical devices with digital timers and adhesive bases, designed for easy attachment to surfaces. You carefully secure the first bomb to the RC Goblin and prepare for takeoff.
As you pilot the RC Goblin out of the van, the tiny helicopter whirs to life. The live feed shows the construction site from above, giving you a clear view of your targets. You navigate the RC Goblin through the site, avoiding the workers and security guards. The first bomb is successfully planted on a support beam, and the timer starts counting down.
With precision and focus, you maneuver the RC Goblin back to the van to pick up the next bomb. The tension mounts as the timer continues to tick away, but you remain steady, knowing that every second counts.