I’ve been busy.
I’ve been working for Woozie. Gotta say, I respect the guy. Even though he took Catalina off my hands, that turned out to be what you might call a blessing in disguise, seeing as how she was a psycho chica an' all. I wrapped it up with the Da Nang boys – left a container ship full of bodies in the process – and then decided to finish things with that punk ass pimp Jizzy B. Man, it felt good to finally tell that mother what a fool he had been to trust me. Once I had his cell phone with the number for his contact in the cartel there was no need for that low life scum sucker to draw another breath of San Fiero air, so I capped his ass and left his body by the side of his burning pimp mobile.
We knew where the meet was going down, and Woozie’s boys came good. I cleared the roof of gunmen and then headed down to the pier for a Ballas turkey shoot. Some of the turkeys tried to fly the coop in a chopper, but hey – that’s why the good lord gave us rocket launchers, right? The final act in this drama was to take a car bomb to the factory where the cartel was making the yay and indulge in a spot of urban renewal. Guess those crack heads back in Los Santos are going to be going hungry now.
If I thought I could kick back and work on running the garage with Cesar, boy was I ever wrong. An anonymous call gave me address somewhere in the desert in Bone County and promised information about Ma. Time to go.
It was the first time I had crossed that bridge, and once I hit the highway I kept going. The stranger would wait for a day or two. I was ready to see the bright lights of Las Venturas.
Oh baby, gonna set my soul on fire …
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