A week later, the tension in Vice City is palpable. Both you and Diaz have been preparing for the inevitable showdown, each step taken with meticulous care and calculated precision.
In your safehouse at 3321 Vice Point, you gather your most trusted allies. Cam, still nursing his injuries, works tirelessly in the basement, hacking into Diaz's security systems and gathering intel. Every scrap of information is valuable, and Cam's expertise is crucial.
"Diaz's men are everywhere," Cam reports, his fingers flying across the keyboard. "He's fortified his mansion like a fortress. Cameras, guards, heavy artillery—you name it."
You nod, absorbing the information. "Good. Keep digging. We need every advantage we can get."
Ken Rosenberg is your legal buffer. He's been coordinating with his contacts, ensuring that when the dust settles, you'll have the upper hand. "Tommy, I've got some people on standby. Just make sure this doesn't blow back on us too hard."
You also reach out to Avery Carrington, who supplies you with some caches of weapons. He meets you in a discreet location, his ever-present cowboy hat tipped low. "Son, this here's enough firepower to start a small war. Use it wisely. And bring some of my boys along"
Cortez provides the heavy muscle, an armored vehicle known as the "Panzer." He greets you aboard his yacht, a knowing glint in his eye. "My friend, this should give you the edge you need. Diaz won't know what hit him."
With your allies secured and plans in motion, you spend hours at the shooting range, honing your skills. You ensure every weapon is cleaned, loaded, and ready for the coming storm. The Panzer, with its reinforced armor and mounted weaponry, is your ace in the hole, a formidable tool for the assault on Diaz's mansion.
Meanwhile, Diaz is also preparing. His mansion becomes a fortress, guards patrolling every corner, the grounds bristling with weaponry. He installs additional cameras, motion sensors, and even brings in a few military-grade mercenaries to bolster his defenses.
Diaz himself is a bundle of nervous energy, constantly pacing and shouting orders. "I want every inch of this place secure! Vercetti is coming, and I want him dead the moment he steps foot on my property!"
He inspects his new shipment of guns, a smirk crossing his face as he handles a high-powered assault rifle. "Let him come. We'll be ready."
His men are on edge, knowing the final confrontation is near. They fortify their positions, double-checking every weapon, every piece of armor. The mansion is stocked with ammunition, and Diaz's paranoia drives him to prepare for any contingency.
The week passes in a blur of preparation and tension. The city holds its breath, waiting for the inevitable clash. Both sides are ready, the stage set for a battle that will shake Vice City to its core.
Finally, the day arrives. You gather your allies, their faces set with grim determination. The Panzer rumbles to life, its engine a low, threatening growl. You load up, weapons at the ready, every muscle tensed for the coming fight.
"Alright, everyone," you say, your voice steady. "This is it. Let's finish this."
With that, you drive towards Diaz's mansion, the Panzer leading the way. The final showdown is about to begin.
On the way to Diaz's mansion, you steer the Panzer towards the bridge to Starfish Island. The armored vehicle rumbles beneath you, a symbol of the impending storm. As you approach the bridge, you spot Lance waiting for you, already geared up and ready for battle. Despite the bandages covering his body, he stands with a determined look, his eyes burning with the same resolve you feel.
You bring the Panzer to a halt and step out, walking towards Lance. "Lance, you sure you're out of the hospital too soon?" you ask, eyeing the fresh bandages that cover his wounds. "You look like a mummy."
Lance chuckles, wincing slightly at the pain. "I'll be fine, Tommy. This is personal. Diaz has to pay for what he did to my brother."
You nod, understanding the fire in his eyes. "Alright, but stick close. We go in together, and we come out together. Got it?"
Lance gives you a firm nod. "Got it. Let's end this."
You both climb into the Panzer, Lance taking a seat next to you. The rest of your allies are already inside, weapons at the ready. The atmosphere is tense but focused. Everyone knows the stakes, and there's no room for hesitation.
The Panzer roars back to life, and you drive towards Diaz's mansion, the armored vehicle a rolling fortress. The streets of Vice City blur past, the tension building with every mile. Your mind races, planning the assault, anticipating every move Diaz might make.
"Tommy," Lance says, breaking the silence. "Thanks for having my back. I know I messed up, but we're gonna fix this."
You glance over at him, your expression hard but understanding. "Just keep your head in the game, Lance. We need you at your best."
As the mansion comes into view, the reality of the situation hits you. This is it—the final showdown. The Panzer rolls to a stop just outside the main gate, and you take a deep breath, steeling yourself for what's to come.
"Alright, everyone," you say, turning to face your crew. "This is it. We go in hard and fast. No mercy. Let's take down Diaz, once and for all."
With a collective nod, your team - Lance with a few Avery's men prepares for the assault. You step on the pedal of the Panzer, your weapon at the ready, and lead the charge towards the mansion gates. The battle has begun, and there's no turning back now.
The Panzer rolls through the gates of Diaz's mansion, its armored hull absorbing the hailstorm of bullets from Diaz's henchmen. The air fills with the deafening roar of gunfire, the staccato of automatic weapons echoing off the mansion walls. Smoke billows from the impact points, dirt and debris flying everywhere as the bullets ricochet harmlessly off the Panzer's thick plating.
Chaos erupts. Diaz's men are yelling, their faces twisted with adrenaline-fueled rage. The mansion courtyard becomes a war zone, filled with the acrid smell of gunpowder and the metallic taste of fear. The relentless barrage continues, every man pouring his firepower into the seemingly invincible vehicle.
After what feels like an eternity, the gunfire ceases. The smoke hangs thick in the air, a grim curtain hiding the Panzer from view. Diaz's men hold their breath, the anticipation palpable. Minutes drag on like hours as they wait for the smoke to dissipate. The silence is almost as loud as the gunfire had been, every man straining to hear any sign of movement.
"FUCKING HELL! What are you waiting for, you useless bastards? Open that damn door or I'll gut you myself!" Diaz roars, his face contorted with fury. His threats cut through the tension like a knife, but no one moves, their fear almost tangible.
Finally, Diaz's orders break through their paralysis. Slowly, cautiously, they advance on the Panzer. Guns trained on the vehicle, they edge closer, each step feeling like a mile. One man, his hands shaking, reaches for the Panzer's door handle. He hesitates, swallowing hard before pulling it open.
The door swings wide, revealing an empty interior. Diaz's men stare in shock, their minds struggling to process what they're seeing. In the center of the Panzer's interior is a laptop, its screen displaying a single word: "tick tock."
Around the laptop are stacks of explosives, wires snaking out in all directions. The countdown on the screen reads three seconds. One of Diaz's men, eyes wide with terror, opens his mouth to yell, "RU—"