But to your dismay. He looks up as you approach, his white, blood drained face betrays a mix of relief and pain in his eyes.
"There goes my fucking careful planning blown to shit, thanks to you," you snap, helping him to his feet. "You screwed up real good, Lance!"
"He killed my brother," Lance replies weakly. "What do you expect me to do, mow his lawns?"
"We're gonna have to take out that prick Diaz before he takes us out," you decide. "Can you walk?"
"Yeah, just get me out of here," Lance groans.
Supporting Lance, you make your way out of the hangar. As you exit, more of Diaz's men appear, guns blazing.
"Vercetti! You're not getting out of here alive!" one of them shouts.
"Watch me," you retort, opening fire and taking down the closest henchman. The fight is intense, bullets wheezing in all directions. You use every bit of cover you can find, returning fire here and there and dropping enemies one by one. Shooting, ducking, running, cursing, you must do everything in order to get out of here alive.
"You think you can just walk in here and take him?" another henchman yells, firing at you from behind a stack of tires.
"Yeah, I do," you reply, hitting him in the chest. He falls back, his mouth agape, the gun clattering to the ground.
You and Lance fight your way through the junkyard, mostly you the one who do the hard work, the gunfire and explosions creating a chaotic symphony around you. Despite the pain and exhaustion, you push on, determined to get both of you and Lance to safety.
Finally, you reach the Blista Compact and shove Lance into the passenger seat. As you start the engine, more of Diaz's men appear, their guns trained on you.
"Hang on, Lance," you say, flooring the gas pedal. The car speeds out of the junkyard, bullets ricocheting off the frame. One hit Lance in his shoulder. "Fuck, they hit me!". He grimaces in pain. Diaz's men give chase, their cars roaring after you.
The chase is intense, Diaz's men hot on your tail. You weave through the streets, narrowly avoiding collisions and gunfire. Lance clutches his side, trying to stay conscious.
"Hold on, Lance! We're not done yet," you shout, determination fueling your every move.
The streets of Vice City become a warzone. Diaz's men open fire indiscriminately, bullets ricocheting off buildings and cars. The sound of gunfire and screeching tires fills the air. Civilians scream and scatter, diving for cover as bullets tear through the chaos.
"These guys are insane!" Lance mutters through gritted teeth.
You take a sharp turn, barely missing a delivery truck, and glance in the rearview mirror. Diaz's men are relentless, their cars weaving through traffic in pursuit. One of them leans out of a window, an assault rifle blazing. Bullets spray across the street, hitting a parked car which explodes in a fiery blast, sending debris flying everywhere.
A police car appears in the intersection ahead, sirens blaring. The cops, drawn by the chaos, immediately join the fray, their lights flashing blue and red. The officers open fire on Diaz's men, the streets now a battleground between criminals and law enforcement.
"Great, now we've got the cops on our asses too!" you growl, accelerating hard.
You swerve around a corner, the tires screeching as you narrowly avoid another collision. Diaz's men continue to fire, their bullets striking nearby cars and storefronts. The cops return fire, their squad cars racing to keep up with the chaotic pursuit.
"Tommy, look out!" Lance shouts, pointing at a roadblock up ahead. The cops have set up a barricade, their guns trained on your car.
You slam on the brakes, spinning the car around and darting down a side street. The sudden move catches Diaz's men off guard, causing one of their cars to crash into the barricade in a spectacular explosion.
You navigate through narrow alleys and side streets, using every bit of your driving skill to evade both the cops and Diaz's men. The sounds of gunfire and explosions continue to echo through the city, a constant reminder of the danger you're in.
Finally, you see the Schuman Health Care Center in the distance. You push the Blista Compact to its limits, the engine roaring as you speed towards the hospital. The cops and Diaz's men are still behind you, but you're almost there.
With a final burst of speed, you swerve into the hospital parking lot, tires screeching as you come to a halt near the entrance. Break the line of sight with the cops and Diaz's dogs. You jump out of the car, rushing to Lance's side and helping him out.
"Go, Lance! Get inside!" you shout, covering him as he stumbles towards the entrance.
"Meet me by the bridge to Starfish Island once you're patched up," you tell him, your voice steady despite the chaos.
Lance nods weakly, his voice strained. "Got it. Be careful, Tommy."
You watch as he disappears into the hospital, taken in by the medical staff. With a deep breath, you slide back into the driver's seat of the Blista Compact. The car is a mess, bullet holes riddling its sides, the engine making a troubling noise.
You decide to get rid of the Blista Compact, its battered frame attracting too much attention. You spot a Regina parked nearby, a plain-looking station wagon that should blend in better. You quickly steal it, hotwiring the engine and pulling away smoothly. The Regina's engine hums quietly, a stark contrast to the roaring chaos you just escaped.
As you drive, you call Ken Rosenberg to get the latest information. "Ken, what the hell is going on? Why did Diaz turn on us?"
Ken's voice crackles over the line, sounding more nervous than usual. "Tommy, it's a mess. Lance tried to steal Diaz's gun shipment, but he didn't pull it off. Diaz found out and he's pissed. He's out for blood, man."
You curse under your breath, gripping the steering wheel tighter. "Damn it, Lance. He never thinks things through," you mutter. "Thanks for the heads-up, Ken. Stay low and keep your ears open."
Ken sighs audibly. "Be careful, Tommy. Diaz is ruthless. You need to be ready for anything."
You hang up, the weight of the situation sinking in. Lance's reckless move had put you both in Diaz's crosshairs. The drive is tense, your mind racing with plans and contingencies. The city lights blur past as you navigate the streets, every turn bringing you closer to the inevitable showdown.
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Ricardo Diaz stands in his opulent mansion, surrounded by crates of high-powered weaponry. His men are busy checking the inventory, ensuring every gun, every bullet is accounted for. Diaz's eyes gleam with satisfaction as he inspects a sleek assault rifle, the weight of it reassuring in his hands.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" he muses to one of his lieutenants. "With these, we'll own this city."
The lieutenant nods, but before he can respond, a henchman bursts into the room, breathless and terrified. "Boss, Vercetti and Lance... they escaped."
Diaz's face twists with rage. The calm satisfaction vanishes, replaced by a volcanic fury. He grabs his handgun from the table, his knuckles white with anger. Without hesitation, he shoots the messenger, the gunshot echoing through the mansion. The man collapses, lifeless, as Diaz's eyes burn with fury. "Bunch of useless shit!". He yells.
"Bastards think they can get away from me?!" Diaz snarls, his voice shaking with anger. He turns to his remaining men, his face a mask of rage. "Prepare the mansion! Lock it down! Vercetti and his friend are coming, and I want them dead before they step foot inside!"
The mansion becomes a hive of activity, guards scrambling to fortify every entrance. Weapons are distributed, positions are taken. Diaz paces, his mind a whirlwind of anger and paranoia. He knows the final confrontation is coming, and he's ready to end it once and for all.
As his men rush to secure the mansion, Diaz glances at the array of guns around him. Each one a symbol of his power, each one a tool to crush his enemies. He smiles, a cold, ruthless grin. "They want a war? I'll give them a war they'll never forget."
Outside, the night air is thick with tension. The city seems to hold its breath, waiting for the clash of titans that is sure to come. Diaz watches his men prepare, his confidence growing with each passing moment. He knows Tommy Vercetti is a formidable opponent, but this is his domain, his fortress. And he will defend it with every last bullet.
The stage is set. The players are ready. The final act is about to begin.