Create a distraction

“Yeah, that's just crazy enough to work,” You say to yourself, and grin wickedly as you get back in your car. Driving up and parking directly in front of the brothel, you check the address list on its communications system.

An equally disgusted and amused guffaw of “Really?” is your reaction upon finding one number under the moniker of 'Da Crib', and you dial that one.

“Who is this?” A disgruntled voice answers after three signals, “And what the fuck are you doing in my car?”

Ah, so he knows already.

“Hi, I'm the guy who stole your car,” You cheerfully introduce yourself, “You're some kind of criminal, right?”

“Fuck you!” The man on the other end of the call shouts, loud enough that you lean back from the speakers, “You don't know me? I'm the Main Man, bitch! I own Prospect Hills!”

“Good for you.” Wow, 'the Main Man'? That's just pathetic. “You want your car back, right? I mean I like it, but if you're not okay with me stealing it...”

“Not okay?! Man, when I find you, I'm going to shove my gun up your ass and pull the trigger until it goes click!” Heh, one of the programmers must have seen the Big Lebowski. Wonder if you could go back and change your name to The Dude?

“I guess that's what happens when you fuck a stranger in the ass, huh?” You really can't resist making a Lebowski reference of your own.

“You're lucky you're a man, or I would have **** you before I kill you!” The Main Man's shouting again.

“That is lucky. Hey, maybe you could skip the first thing you mentioned too? I'm really not keen on having anything shoved up my ass,” You say, and watch as a blue pop-up appears in front of you, saying 'Preference noted'. Good thing you got that out of the way.

“You fucker, I'm gonna cut you over and over until you wish you'd never been born, motherfucker!” Really, the Main Man's seems to have some kind of anger management issue.

“That sounds wonderful,” And your nonchalant demeanor probably isn't calming him down, “Anyway listen, I've left your car parked on 88 Lindros Street. I'm not sure if that's in Prostate Hills, but you want to come over here anyway and try to take it back? It's just a ten-minute drive, in case you can find anyone who'll give you a lift.”

“Asshole, me and my boys are coming over. And you'd better fucking run! I've cut people's nuts off for less than this!”

“I'll be waiting, bitch,” You cut the conversation as the Main Man is warming up for another bit of cursing. It shouldn't take him more than ten minutes to get here, five if he hurries – which you have a feeling that he will – so you'd better hurry up with the rest of your plan.

Getting out of the car again, you walk down the street, slip into an alleyway, and enter the building next to the brothel through the backdoor, discovering along the way that you have both a lock-pick and the skills required to at least defeat less advanced locks. Maybe you shouldn't have smashed that car window after all.

You use your clock to keep track of time along the way, and note as you reach the top of the staircase that four minutes have already gone by since you hung up on the Main Man. Retrieving your **** carbine from inside your jacket and threading on the suppressor, you're surprised by how natural it feels in your grasp. Next, you take a deep breath before kicking in – well... out – the door to the roof. When you step onto the rooftop, time seems to slow down, and you can see how the two figures on the other side of the alleyway are spinning around in reaction to the crash of the door being **** open.

In a fraction of a second, you've pulled the trigger twice, making your rifle produce two sharp and surprisingly loud cracks before the two guards on the roof of the brothel collapse like rag dolls, each of them having just gotten a bullet to the brain, which you're pretty sure that you can thank your targeting computer for. Thankfully, the suppressed shots were drowned out by the sound of roaring engines approaching. That was disturbingly easy, you think as you walk back to the other edge of the roof, sling your rifle over your back, and get ready. Running forwards at full speed, you push yourself off the ledge and go flying across the ten-foot gap separating the two buildings.

Of course you end up just barely reaching the brothel, and end up hanging from the ledge by the edge of your fingers. Heaving yourself up over the ledge, you level your rifle at the two corpses and kick their weapons away. Then you kneel down and check that they're dead.

You've just had time to check that the rooftop door is unlocked when you hear the deafening sound of several engines going on full power as they race up Lindros Street, then are cut and replaced by that of screeching rubber as the cars come to a halt.

“Fuck, my car! The asshole broke the window!” You hear a familiar voice cry out on the street below, along with the sound of several pairs of feet running about down there.

“Hey, Main Man! Thanks for the loaner!” Grabbing one of the deceased guards by his coat, you step up onto the ledge and toss him over the edge.

“He's up there!” A man, dressed in a lot of leather and sporting a dread-locked Mohawk cries out and points up at you with a pistol in his hand. Around him are a dozen other nasty-looking punks, all of them dressed in leather and several of them wielding either shotguns or submachine guns. This should be fun.

“Shit!” The Main Man cries out when the corpse of the guard impacts against the hood of his car.

“Bitch!” Raising his gun, he fires at you, but you've already dived back into cover. Which is a good thing, because several of his friends are firing too, and you can hear bullets smack into the brick facade. Honestly, your only worry is that these clowns might hit some innocent bystander.

“Fucking rush him!” You chuckle as you hear the Main Man cry that out.

“Hey, what's happening out here?” Another, new voice can be heard shouting from down below.

“Fuck you!” The Main Man doesn't disappoint, and another shot rings out.

“We're under attack!” That sounds like it's coming from the fourth floor, and an SMG soon rattles out bullets from much closer than street level.

“Fuck, he's got people backing him up!” The Main Man cries out, and all his men start shooting.

After a good half-minute of more shouting and shooting, you peek over the ledge to see a full-on gun battle going on out in the street below, with guns being fired out several of the brothel's windows and the Main Man's crew in cover behind their cars. Admittedly, one drawback of your plan is that you're going to have to steal yourself a getaway vehicle later, since the one you drove up in is pretty much shot to pieces already.

Also, there's a suit-clad troll down in the street just outside the front doors to the brothel, walking up and down the sidewalk and wielding what looks like a cut-down version of a heavy sniper rifle, with which he's blasting away at the Main Man's posse. It was definitely a good idea not to try a frontal ****. Now all you have to do is get inside and find the Fox.