My name is Niko Bellic. I moved to Librty City twelve days ago....In this city everyone works for money, and so i have spent my time here working...doing the work i have experience in, which includes fighting in close urban environments, driving a variety of quickly obtained vehicles and providing a variety of support services for various ad-hoc groups, small business operations who wish to avoid entanglements, and other people like myself...outcasts, immigrants, and yes, criminals.
in any case, this is not a work i always enjoy doing--it's grisly stuff, but when men are shooting at me, and they are standing in the way of my objective, i do what needs doing, and i reach the objective and i take the cash.
i must confess, though, that in all my years of work i have attained the pleasure of doing my job well. when i am in the heat of fire, there is nothing like setting your sights on your opponent and then popping him in the head once, ending him.
today i was told to kill a man who operates out of a high-rise housing project in east harlem. he is distributing drugs in the community, running prostitutes, you name it. i don't care. he is the target. the highrise is filled with young men with guns, all shooting at me; i search them out, one by one, and execute them all. Finally, as i creep up the stairs, i see him with his back turned to me, and i fire four or five rounds into his back, almost taking him down. I could have, if i had aimed carefully. In any case, i climbed up the last set of stairs after him. he hid behind a wall until i came close and then he came out,unarmed. he asked me not to kill him. fuck you, i thought, i almost died back there. i took aim at him, but i listened to him plea. i heard him tell me he would change, reform, i don't remember at all. something about a GED.
i stood there and i moved my gunsights to his forehead. fuck you, i thought, for making me come all the way up here. and i thought, here comes the pink mist, and then realized i had no desire to do this.
i sorta wanted to see if he would get his GED. but i also felt that i wouldn't see him again. it didn't matter. i had made the pink mist enough times back home--never mind that, i was still making it every day--but i had the choice not to shoot this guy, this dumbass prick. and also, in the words of Bunny Colvin (Brucie has downloaded all five seasons of the wire) "fuck the bosses." let's see what happens to the little guy.
as i walked away, i wasn't proud of myself, but i thought that at least i wouldn't have that memory to deal with. i have enough on my plate already. to start with, i am on the roof of an East Harlem housing project with cops closing in on me....
Monday, May 12, 2008
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
