Chapter 35: Nautical Nightmare

Just as you're about to put the phone away, it rings again. This time, the caller ID shows an unknown number. You answer with a mix of curiosity and irritation.

"Tommy Vercetti," you say, your tone sharp.

"Tommy, it's Diaz," comes the familiar, gruff voice. "Got a very important job for you. Hustle up to my mansion."

You raise an eyebrow. "How the hell did you get my number?"

Diaz laughs, a rough, unpleasant sound. "I listen here and there. You know how it is."

You sigh, knowing there's no point in arguing. "Alright, Diaz. I'll be there soon."

You hang up, shaking your head. "Now I'm famous, and every fucking soul in this city knows my number," you mutter to yourself as you steer the Cuban Hermes toward Starfish Island.

You arrive at Diaz's mansion to find him on a balcony at the back, shooting pigeons with a shotgun. The moment he hears your footsteps, he turns around, shotgun pointed at you.

"Tommy, my friend! Come to watch me shoot these damn pigeons? They shit all over my car!" Diaz jokes, a manic glint in his eyes.

You stay silent, not in the mood for his games. Diaz stops joking, his expression turning serious. "Listen, there's a boatyard in Viceport. They've built a speedboat for some Costa Rican drug lord. I want that boat."

"A BOAT??? YOU CALL ME HERE JUST FOR A FUCKING BOAT???" you yell, angry flashing on your face.

"Chill, chill. This boat is not ordinary, do you know why?", his voice slowly lower and lower.

"Because....." Diaz says, leaning in with a conspiratorial whisper, "...I AM the one who owns the FUCKING FASTEST BOAT on the east coast, and I want it to STAY THAT WAY!!!.". He yells loud and clear at the end.

"You little shit....." You are trying so hard to not have him kiss the dirt.

He continues, rambling the plan. "The boatyard is heavily guarded. You'll need to fight your way in, lower the boat into the water, and bring it back here. Simple, right?"

You nod, though very frustrated but you know it's anything but simple. "Alright, alright Diaz. Consider it done."

Just when you head back to your vehicle, Diaz yells after you, "And Tommy, make sure to give those guards hell!"

You drive to the boatyard, the tension building. When you arrive, you see the guards patrolling the area, their faces hard and alert. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for the fight ahead. This isn't going to be easy, but nothing worth doing ever is.

The first thugs at the entrance don't know what hit them. You take them down with precise shots, each one crumpling to the ground before they can raise the alarm. The sound of gunfire echoes through the yard, drawing the attention of more guards. You press on, navigating through the maze of containers and machinery, each step calculated.

"Who the hell is this guy?" one of the guards yells, drawing his weapon.

You smirk, "Just your worst nightmare."

A firefight erupts, bullets flying as you take cover behind a stack of crates. The guards are well-armed and organized, but you've faced worse. You pop out of cover, taking down another guard with a clean shot to the chest. Blood splatters the concrete, the guard's body hitting the ground with a thud.

You hear a voice crackle over a guard's radio. "We need backup! Intruder at the boatyard!"

You press forward, moving from cover to cover, your heart pounding in your chest. The adrenaline fuels your every move, sharpening your focus. You reach the garage where the boat is hanging above the water. The area is heavily guarded, and you can see the switch to lower the boat on the far side of the room.

"Stop him!" a guard shouts, opening fire.

You dive behind a steel beam, bullets ricocheting off the metal. You return fire, hitting two guards in quick succession. They fall, their weapons clattering to the ground. You make a dash for the switch, but more guards flood into the room, blocking your path.

You grit your teeth, reloading your weapon. "You guys just don't know when to quit, do you?"

The room erupts in chaos as you engage the guards, each one determined to stop you. You move with precision, your shots finding their marks. The floor is slick with blood, the bodies of the fallen piling up around you. Finally, you reach the switch and slam it down. The boat begins to lower into the water, the chains rattling loudly.

More guards rush in, desperate to stop you. You fight your way through them, each step forward met with fierce resistance. One guard tackles you from behind, and you wrestle with him, your fists flying. You manage to break free, delivering a crushing blow to his jaw. He falls, unconscious.

You jump into the boat and start the engine, the roar of the motor attracting even more attention. By now, the police are on high alert, and you can hear their sirens wailing in the distance. You gun the engine, the boat speeding away from the dock. The cold night air whips against your face as you navigate through the water, the city lights reflecting off the waves.

The police are relentless, their boats closing in. You weave through the waterways with expert precision, staying one step ahead. The sound of gunfire and sirens fills the air, the chase reaching a fever pitch. You can see the bridge to Starfish Island ahead, the lights of Diaz's mansion a beacon in the darkness.

A police boat pulls up alongside you, an officer shouting through a megaphone. "Pull over now, or we will open fire!"

You don't respond, your focus on the path ahead. You swerve, water splashing. The boat narrowly avoiding a collision with the police boat. The officer loses control, crashing into a buoy and exploding in a fireball.

"Tch, serve you right" you snicker. You push the boat to its limits, the engine straining as you race towards safety.

Finally, you arrive back at Diaz's mansion, the boat intact, surprisingly. You park it carefully, the relief washing over you. Diaz is waiting for you on the dock, a wide grin on his face.

"Tommy, you did it! I knew you were the right man for the job."

You nod, still catching your breath. "Yeah, Diaz. Delivered it safe and sound."

Diaz slaps you on the back, laughing. "You sure know how to make an entrance, my friend. Come inside, we'll celebrate."

Walking away, you can't stop thinking about how close you came to losing it all. The adrenaline still courses through your veins, the thrill of the chase fresh in your mind. But for now, you're just glad to have made it through another day.