Nationalises [fanfic] (Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas)

I
Fall 2019, the year turned out to be extremely strange. From the first days of September, a sand storm covered San Andreas. Fine sand, previously afflicting only inhabitants of the desert, now rushed over the green steklovarenie villages and cities of the sunshine state. He hammered in all the cracks, blinded passers-by scratching glass everywhere static electricity damaging TVs and base stations of mobile communication.
At this time, Carl managed to catch a cold and was now sitting alone at home, stocking up on food and medicinal powder. He had long since stopped their famous adventures, and is now thoroughly engaged in the career of the rentier-the Bon vivant to the extent permitted, the existing funds, obtained mostly reprehensible methods. However, he was not yet old enough to feel the bitterness of a ruined life, and the loneliness was for him rather a wide field for idle activities, rather than a source of fear of impending helplessness, and vengeance of the underworld.
So loud bismarckallee in a piece of toilet paper, CJ decided to order a lunch on the house. Sedately sitting on the stool at the bedside phone, he picked up the phone and dialed the number. Drive buzzed four digits, and a few seconds of waiting tired voice said:
– Pizzeria.
– Double kebab and a liter bottle of orange juice... then Carl.
– Not working today.
Why?
– Well, you give... the Whole city on the ears!
– Due to the weather?
– Yes you that, man, look out the window! That jerk...
The all-clear. Carl slowly put the phone down on the lever. Anger filled his mighty chest. Springing to his feet, they decided to personally go down there and deal with the insolent fellow. Fished out of the closet any segment of a steel pipe, he left the house and sensed that everything was not okay. There was a gentle breeze, mixed with the dust – nothing to the man who spent a lot of time at the airport in the desert – however, on grove street was empty. Wasn't boys, it was not ukurasa, junkies, unemployed chumps, not even the police. Regretting that in a fit of anger, forgot to grab a gun, Carl crept to the alleyway that separated his house from the huts of the Rider.
Holding the pipe at the ready, Carl crept up to the end of the alley, released into the roadway. Street, busy even in the recent rainy days, was now deserted. Only at the end could be seen "voodoo", crashed into the post a few days ago. He has managed to remove the wheels and doors. Carl turned his head to the left and froze in surprise.
At the end of the street, where began a bridge from the gray veil appeared a large object like a tank. Through the wind was heard the noise of armor, and a moment later it was supplemented by the sound of motorcycle engines. On the street, towards the stunned crowd with the Negro clutching in his hand a trumpet, riding a column of soldiers in uniform, unlike the us. Motorcyclists and drivers, and sitting in the carriages of machine gunners – were very familiar helmet, similar to pots. CJ couldn't remember where he saw them. On the left sleeve of an officer, vykladyvanija from the turret of the tank had turned bright red red armband, and the brain CJ pierced terrible hunch. Slipped back into the alleyway, he ran into the house and locked the door, climbed into the bedroom and crept to the window and cautiously lifted the curtain. After a moment, he already scolded myself for making a run for it – it's making a movie! But what movie in this weather? And why no one shouted at him, out on the Playground for the shoot?
The columns were so believable and menacing that Carl forgot about the incident with a kebab, closed the curtains and decided to just warm the noodles.
After eating, Carl began to call neighbors. But the phone was silent. Cell showed no network. The TV screen showed only the noise, Yes noise. The Internet is too. CJ was cut off from the world. Suddenly he felt how weakened from the cold. Poured the medicine in a Cup of boiling water, and drank it in one gulp, he got into bed and fell asleep. A minute later and extinguished the light.

II
– The People Of San Andreas! German narot you do not bullshit! To sohraniti spakoistvie! Vzaimodestvie with soldatami the German army and izpolnite Prikazi, otdavaema them!
Already a quarter of an hour, as the voice of a powerful speaker announced to the street and grove street on the new order. Carl sat in the chair in front of the TV, wrapped his feet in a soft Mexican blanket, drinking a Cup of coffee and impatiently switched the channels. Everywhere twisted one and the same scene, occasionally interrupted by a German speaker. Sometimes Carl would pick up the phone, expecting that the connection is restored. By noon came the horn, and CJ dialed the hospital in Las Venturas, where he was treated for Suites. Record voice with a German accent replied that the long-distance lines are not working. Then C. J. called to the mansion of MADD Dogg.
– Who... who is this?
– Brian, it's Carl. How are you doing, everything okay?
– What way, CJ! It fucking sucks, so I three times to crap one's pants! Where did those Nazis!?
– Yes, I know, the phone only turned on. Call MADD Dogg.
– I can not, yesterday he flew to Las Venturas!
– Here's a NIT, but I did not take! Okay, then you talked to him?
– I can't get through.
– It is clear. Gather food while in the shops there is nothing. I'll drive up.
Carl put the receiver down and shrugged. The city fell to the German army, which seventy-five years ago the Americans totally destroyed in Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Now the Germans back. What should he do? How will they handle the ghetto how to manage the area? Where's the bloody feds finally?!
In the back yard Retinue gathered three of the most daring boys. Carl joined the lively conversation.
– Wysp!
– Wisap, nigga!
What's that MC? Where are these clowns?
– Fell from the sky.
– Crawled out of hell.
And what are we? Maybe it's time to blame?
Where?
– In Las Venturas, the feds are still holding. Who can get to Palomino Creek, thence to the boat. I cousin told.
And Fierro?
– The Nazis are advancing along the main highway, pull up your hand.
– Damn, so where do they come from, those Nazis!?
– How do I know...
How's Sweet?
– I can't get through.
– Do you think he was luckier than us?
Yeah, I personally don't want the hospital to wander.
– Wait and see. When the shit POPs up fully, run in Venturas or directly to the mainland.
– Basically, the feds have to come back...
– When? Why not return immediately? Why so ssykuyut?
– Good, hesitated with his alarmist questions...
– Have a plane to catch. Or order CJ the dough enough.
– The Germans shot down, or their.
– Need to steal a boat. The Russians and Latinos full of boats.
In Fierro the Vietnamese a tanker. His hijacking.
– You plan, the generals, and I stomped, get on.
Where?
– To visit SIS.
Carl brought out of the garage cheap "clover" and, observing all traffic rules, drove into the main street. At the crossroads stood the Germans, nobody stopped. In principle, the streets were empty.
The W/d moving towards CJ came soldier-gunner with a shiny badge on his chest.
– Halt!
– Uh, move over!
– Vukhin Fagen z?
– Che, che said? Say that again!
He said, get out of the car, and donkey scrotum! – barked the officer Out!
Out! Out! soldiers the gun pointed out of the car.
– Okay, let us discuss like civilized people.
– Who are you to be? – asked the officer – Documents have to be?
– There is a law, though overdue, and not mine...
– Shut up! Answer me when you can!
– I say that? Isn't your boorish question to answer?
The officer fastidiously stared at the face of Charles, comparing with photos on the document.
– I then only eighty pounds weighed – said Karl, half-starved youth. Release the orphan!
– You know that in the ghetto moving between districts to ban without razresheniem?
– Come on, how am I to sisters...
– Shut up! Get in the car, drive home!
– Me to my sister! she lives in El Corona...
– Listen to the order! In the ghetto rebuke...
Okay, wait, I understand...
Gunner took Carla at gunpoint when he reached into his pocket and pulled out a wallet. Counting a few notes, Carl waved them in the air and handed it to the officer:
Real dollars, bro, like in the movies!
The officer's eyes bulged, and approached Carl.
– As you think, you dirty monkey, you offer to bribe a German officer! A scoundrel, a scoundrel! – it seemed that any minute he'll go to Karl in the face – Come on!
Taking away the money, the officer shoved them into his jacket pocket and pointed in the direction of the move:
– Get to viðey you don't!
Without saying a word, Carl jumped into the cab and instantly flew to Idylwood. Stopping the car at the Motel, he decided to calculate will be enough cash to El Corona, and on the way back. But then out of the corner seemed to patrol and Carl gently pulled away, determined not to stop until the Germans themselves will not stop.

III
Kendall was delivered three public banks and the energy bowl filled to the brim full of chips. The husband hugged his mistress, and Carl began to eat.
– In the morning didn't have Breakfast... Gut stuck...
– Cabron, ESE! It's the end of the world!
– Nazi Apocalypse...
Nationalises, Holmes!
– Go to San Fierro, said Kendall.
– Try to get out of the city – chewing, replied her brother.
– I already about all have agreed, – said Caesar – There is a Shuttle that...
– And the gang?
Karl, you've become just as Sweet!
– Holmes, my gang is also divided. Some leave, others remain. Not everyone can throw the El Crown, but not all can stay.
– And who will be in charge... for you?
– Damn, I almost convinced him, and you!..
– Here she and ed in San Fierro, look behind the garage, go for a walk in the Park, wait for news. And we get this party started.
– That's right, ESE! If you're staying, I have a plan to heat on this hand...
– And how?
– Anyway, first go on the relationship with the Nazis, we buy their weapons and drive the rest of the gang...
Sneer, Kendall got up and went into the kitchen.
– Right where it belongs, ' said Karl – come on.
– That's all, – shrugged the Latino.
– The Ballas bitches, probably had to hurry up already.
– I don't think. Temple Drive yesterday chopper was. The Nazis all put.
– Oh!
The Ballas have no strength to negotiate, they sit in basements.
– From infa?
– I have a cousin...
– Damn, why don't I have informed cousins? Only stubborn brother, and he with leaky stomach in intensive care...
– What about the Retinue? asked included Kendall.
– Well throws you into San Fierro, from there drive towards it in Las Venturas.
I will throw? Your trusted friends trusted friends, while being transported, easily slit my throat, take the wallet to throw into the Strait.
– I will throw you, my pretzel!
– She'll drag you into this shithole and not let go! The whole business will fly to hell!
– I had twenty years ago to remain in Fierro, and not to return to this gangster shit!
– E-my, a good break Santa-Barbara!
Caesar crossed himself and kissed the end of his thumb.
– Damn, PPE, and what's wrong with you?
– C. J., I don't understand. Over time, we need to get smarter, but now do not understand. From all of this?
Quietly, people everywhere live and always live. There will podnaem, there will kill to live – even better than uncle Sam. Okay, man, here I come!

IV
Carl decided to drive around the station yards but still caught the eye of the platoon commander of the gendarmerie.
– Carl Johnson? he asked, checking the face Carl with the tip lying in his folder.
– It was not I, ' replied CJ.
– Wait five minutes, come head – said the platoon commander, and deprived his busy mind Carl realized that they had to wait.
Soon arrived at "hustler", from which came the chunky SS officer.
– Sturmführer SS Brunner – rapped officer – Head with us.
Where? I'm from the Grove, if that. I hate the Ballas from temple Drive!
Yes, Yes, major hotel saw you!
– And what is this stormborn? With ketchup or strawberry?
German impatiently waved his glove, grabbed Carl and politely shoved in the back seat of "the hustler" and nimble car has sped off down the main street to Plaza Pershing, where LSPD building housed the headquarters of the SS.
CJ became familiar to all the city mob and the study that has slain the leader of C. R. A. S. H. officer Tenpenny. In the corner stood a box, where on one shelf with bundles of dirty narkobaron and personal Affairs of the largest brokers of Los Santos officer Tenpenny kept your favorite hookah pipe and a supply of hashish.
I wonder what will store in the safe the German horse-faced, slicked back graying hair and impeccably cleaned uniform, which now sits at a Desk, antique writing instrument? The skilled person would recognize in him a Scion of an impoverished Prussian kind, decided contrary to the traditions of their ancestors to make a career in the police business, not in the military. Carl recognized him as another white guy who doesn't believe in the existence of intelligence in other races, and considers himself the crown of creation.
– Carl Johnson? the German gave him her hand.
– Yes, sir, ' answered Karl.
– As you have explained, I – sturmbannführer Otto von Stahlhelm – appointed head of the SS office in the city of Los Santos.
– Nice to meet you.
– Smoke?.. Doing the right thing. In our organization smokers do not work.
– Why bring me here?
The major smiled indulgently at the floor.
We need people to work with the population, Mr. Johnson. You – a typical example of the breed, have the necessary authority... Sit down, please.
Carl sat down gingerly on the specified chair.
– The Negro ghetto should infuse a new life in a new order. You will coordinate the interests of the ghetto and the interests of the German authorities.
– You want me to push you around kids and pounding on them? Street cats are not going to deal with the Pindos neither white nor white Germans!
– We do not offer you to work as a Snitch or a warden. We want to see you the leader of all the gangs that are willing to live in peace with the reborn Reich. The leaders of the Ballas, vagosov and even the Russian mafia would like to sit now I have an appointment for you. We called you first, Mr. Johnson, because all the other gangsters you stand out in one interesting detail – the hostility to drugs.
– Okay, what should I do?
– In essence, continue to live as before. If you know that the feds came in contact with someone – soak or give us the latter is better. Well, we will supply your team with all the necessary weapons.
Carl chuckled. Twenty-five years ago with him driving this same conversation with the former owner of this office.
Background Stalhelm staring at CJ waiting for a snide response, after which there will remain only to give the order to withdraw to the basement and shot. But he said:
– Okay, Mr. Fuhrer, even we do the world will be.
At the exit from the station Karl called out a familiar voice. From the back seat of a police car on the side of which was a swastika with some room, out a helluva lot of high-ranking German in the form of shiny leather, Carl waved a hand and cast with pure laid-back Californian accent:
– Well, boy, well I got you the job?
Carl was silent as he walked up to him, shook his hand and patronizingly patted him on the shoulder. And then he remembered who belonged to that voice from the past.
– Toreno, you gave me away to the Nazis?
– Not given and encouraged. And saved your ass. And your whole gang.
– Go back job?!
– No, they explained everything to you.
– And you? I'm telling you, Germans!?
– As you can see.
– And they...
– Of course, I am the treasure. Boy, you've been kind of slow to think. But you look good. Okay, I have no time for you, get out.
When Karl went down the stairs, Toreno again called to him:
– Carl! Look, another one!.. Heil Hitler!
Guards at the entrance took his hand, and Charles gasped, and left to stand there.

V
During the week, CJ received a uniform, ID card, Bank card, a wad of coupon codes and unlimited pass signed by the SS.
Interview with Karl began to ask for representatives of all the gangs of Los Santos. Caesar Vialpando filled up with gifts for the opportunity to meet with his brother-in-law. The business took off.
However, the dollar has lost value because now the owners of the San Andreas was the Nazis, not the Americans. Despite this, Karl enthusiastically bought green paper, hoping to smuggle them to the mainland and get filthy rich.
In the second week of the invasion, the Germans moved to the Missionary Hills – the fate of San Fierro hung in the balance. The feds are dug in and lay more minefields.
Las Venturas was well protected by the water barrier, but the Americans were in no hurry to blow up bridges.
The most difficult situation was in Palomino Creek, the Peninsula was blocked and held for a miracle. Whether the Germans saw it as a convenient way to send to Las Venturas its agents with a crowd of refugees, whether to maintain this direction for the distraction. Most likely, they worked both.
In the hands of the Nazis moved all the weapons available on the island – modern assault rifles and machine guns, a few tanks M60 and M1A1, with a dozen armored personnel carriers M113, a couple air defense systems of type "Volcano", multiple rocket launchers and helicopters.
Ultimately, Americans everywhere were retreating, and the flow arriving at the San Andreas fault the Germans did not stop.
Prudent CJ Caesar had plans to escape in the event of a conflict with Fritz:
1. From Palomino Creek by boat to Las Venturas. But this required to pass the front line;
2. From PANOPTICON to swim to small Islands in international waters, it's easy to get to Tierra Robada. About the way CJ told the officer in the Abwehr in exchange for dirt on Toreno (Kendall believed that actually Toreno Carl checked for loyalty);
3. To get to San Fierro on water or forests, then to the Pier.
It was kind of in the ointment, one thing remained unclear – where did the Nazis?
Carl liked the German order, but not orders. The Germans believed blacks and Latinos for non-humans, and on the streets of the induced order is equivalent to order them in a barn and not in human society. For the first time, Carl was in a situation where there has been no direct beef with someone, but not going to put up with them. The storm was supposed to break out, and she truly broke out of a terrifying disaster.
The white owners of the areas of the gangs refused to pay tribute to Carl, and not because such is illegal, but because they were on his Board in the form of racist power. Carl did not have time to consider all options to return the lost positions, as of 01 December 2019, the year a platoon of Germans and policemen came to grove street to take the robber who's a member of his gang. Carl do not stand on ceremony, then, "their representatives in the ghetto" was for the Germans only a temporary linkage rule. CJ was able to talk to the platoon commander teeth, while a brother poured water, woke up, picked it up and kicked drove to flee across the dry Creek channel in the industrial district where I was hiding a underground and wanted by the police criminals (the Germans are not heavily scoured the gray crowd that came to work in the factories for the coupons).
In the afternoon after the incident, Karl was summoned by telephone to the headquarters of the SS for explanation. Carl came to Caesar, they loaded the cash, and some weapons in the old "clover" and went to Blueberry using yet in force the pass of CJ. There, in a forest they ditched the car and got to the abandoned cabin that once belonged to Catalina.
Carl approached the hut, and, not letting the wave of memories to overwhelm myself, I tried to open the door.
Wait, Holmes! Catalina is long gone. Before leaving, she could leave behind a surprise.
– What a surprise, what are you talking about?
– Well, stretching some with a couple of grenades.
Dude...
– Let's go around the barn and try to get into the window.
They turned away from the door, as that opened and in the doorway leaned the machine M4.
– Hand Hoch, verfluchte Schwein!
Out of the bushes povyskakivali five Latinos, dressed like bums. In hands they had the M4 and TEC-9.
Is commandos of the Abwehr whispered Carl.
– Who are you? Your mother!
Carl turned around.
Neutral residents, Herr Colonel.
– Which hole you crawled out of, Herr nigga?
– We are the gangsters of Los Santos – a challenge tossed Caesar.
– The gangsters of Los Santos? It is necessary to have some balls to say it in the presence of Comandante Juan Martinez!
– Comandante Juan Martinez? I do not whether Martinez that before the races ran urine sports cars of my opponents?
– Caesar!
– Juan!

VI
– Amigos, have some burritos! Martinez motioned Carl and Caesar to the tablecloth, is spread on the floor of the hut. In the corner was burning steel stove, the Windows were curtained, and within a radius of two hundred meters of the hut was guarded by watchful soldiers.
– How do you manage to parade around when the Nazis? – asked Carl.
Is our temporary shelter. The day before the Americans made their way to a fork in Montgomery, and the Germans are now beyond us. And we go to Las Venturas.
– Why do you go in Las Venturas, if there can Rob and kill?
– We go to base camp to prepare to fight the great enemies of Mexico.
– In terms of? Mexico, too, entered the war?
– We call ourselves the Party of the Mexican Renaissance of the San Andreas, short of PMWS – with pathos said Martinez – only now, two hundred years later, we have a historic chance to break free from the yoke of the gringo!
– It's like? asked CJ For the Nazis or for America?
– What's the difference? – said Martinez – Against all!
– In Las Venturas, the feds, they'll tie you all up.
– We will get there as refugees and then began to organize the camp. Amigo, are you with us?
– I gave my sworn brother, ' said Caesar to get to Venturas, to find his brother and my wife. And there's how it goes.
– Well, we don't mind to be just friends and sympathizers.
– And how are you going to get to Las Venturas?
Like most running in Las Venturas, we'll fight our way to Palomino Creek. But we will not enter into the village and steal a coast guard boat or something like that.
– Who? The rednecks?
In our last RAID we managed to blow up soldatenheim in Dillimore – said Martinez, after remaining thoughtful – it was during the shelling of Palomino Creek. The Germans were in no hurry to clear the debris, and we got a German uniform. We have caught and hanged a couple of policemen from among the hillbilly rednecks gringos. They were a good jerk on the pine tree before emitting fetid spirit. Then our brother Pedro Badillo went to Dillimore to set fire to their house and cut the family, but never returned... well, we have five sets of the German form and two politsayskih... what's in your bag?
– Let so, – said CJ – we buy you two sets and go with you. We're being hunted by the Germans, much we can fight it, so unlikely to be able so easily to get out of this Nazi trap.
"All right," said Martinez, chuckling – 'll try that, who is, and walk trails to the German defensive post. This is not a post, and polarisavenue the dugout, which they will soon take. Gringo too accurately shoot it with missiles, and the coast guard prefers not to swim in the zone of contact. We might be able to seize the boat and to get to the water, which is guarded by a gringo. If not, rasabhasa and go to Palomino Creek alone.
Karl with his appearance would have to change into a policeman, but his powerful figure fit only the German form. To give his prisoner Martinez didn't because CJ could shoot well and had to carry the machine, besides it could take on a patrol path or someone else from the Germans. Caesar was dressed as a policeman. Martinez wore a baggy uniform of the corporal.
Before dawn a group of Mexican vazroditelen came out of the hut, and joyfully headed further along the dirt road to the North, posing for a punitive detachment, allegedly looking for partisans.
At nine in the morning, they caught a fresh wind blowing from the Strait. At a fork in the road pitted with craters under a huge boulder hid the post, bared his teeth with machine guns in the direction of the calm sea. Located near hastily put together a pier to which were tied two boats, which the Nazis took out and dumped in the sea dead. Pierce strolled Lieutenant, fiercely glancing in the direction of Las Venturas.
– That post, said Martinez – let's camp.
A deliberately measured pace, the group began to sing:

Glo-o-Oria! Sieg Heil, Sieg Heil, Sieg Glo-o-o-Oria!
Sieg Heil, Victor-o-o-Oria!

At the entrance to the dugout was divorced fire, before whom I had lunched a couple of German soldiers. Hearing changers-lead the singing, they purposely turned away, continuing to Munch sandwiches. Well sung only rear rat who spent the night in a warm barracks or in the arms of a local peasant, and not to be cold on the coast, risking to get shot or knife commandos!
The Lieutenant came out to meet them.
– Heil Hitler! Buenos Morgen, Herr Lieutenant!
– Heil Hitler! Why not signalled on the radio?
– Out of order, Herr Lieutenant, ' said Martinez in English – it looks like the battery is dead.
The Lieutenant did not answer – he with obvious suspicion looked at the name patch on the chest of CJ.
– Hans Danziger?
– Yeah, what?
– You really name?
– Uh, you know, here's the deal... my father was a Nigerian student and her mother, uh, a nun from Munich, you know, uh, your honor...
– He Volksdeutsche, explained Martinez weary tone – lived here, earning a petty crime. But how came our took up a career. Colonel Schlumberger decided not to disdain anyone. Was recently wounded, but the bone he's strong, as you can see.
Colonel Schlumberger... – thoughtfully handed the Lieutenant.
– God rest his soul...– said Martinez – For one it is to execute the thousands of Americans the growth of not less than six feet tall.
The Lieutenant said nothing. At this time from the dugout out to the second officer. Yawning, he stared at CJ and froze.
– Again you be?!
– Who is he? Carl pointed a finger at Caesar.
No, you to be!
– Ah me! And here you are! – hitting the Lieutenant with his boot in the groin, Carl opened fire on defeat.
The officers were killed in the first second, they were followed by the soldiers and left lying by the campfire. In the dugout the uproar, Martinez ran to the entrance and threw a grenade. All fall, the ground was rocked by an explosion, German observation post ceased to exist.
Martinez included a "Motorola":
Rico, as pies?
Clear. A couple miles away and patrol the M113 is coming, we must hurry to hit the road.
– Okay. Raul, all fit in?
– Yes You can grab a couple of guns.
Rico, come here. Mother duck ready to lay an egg!
– You got it!
While two of them were lying in the bushes at a distance of 50-100 meters, guarding the approaches to the pier, Latinos dragged armed boats. Soon they were joined by the scout, still breathing heavily from running fast.
Raul, put the M60 at the ready... CJ, Caesar, don't need to fumble in the pockets, the Nazis could come in any minute, we need to hurry to swim to the other side!
The boat pushed from the pier and swam to the North, overwhelmed, almost scooping the water edges of the boards. The engines hummed rhythmically, the sea calmly lapped.
– Too easy, ' murmured Caesar.
– Yes, not ochkuy, ' replied Carl. He made nuisance a helmet and was thrown overboard.
– In vain, ' said Martinez is still useful.
– A new asshole. As you'll come ashore, going out of business.
– Problems are just beginning, said Martinez – you still prove that no spy, but a refugee!
– Uh, how so?
For the last two weeks of the German saboteurs messed a lot of substations and pipelines in Las Venturas. So the feds shmonali is not so merciful, as in the early days. Gonna skin your ass until you prove he didn't cheat uncle Sam.
– Well... – said Carl. He didn't argue. Why talk that the green arguments your loyalty hidden here, in the duffel bag, and waiting in the wings.
– We have friends in Venturas, said Caesar.
– Influential?
– As we are.
I say a word, if anything?
– Of course, es. You bailed. Train.
They were already in the middle of the Strait when Cape on the West floated a German e-boat. He opened fire with the turret, but was afraid to come closer. Soon his fears came true – the feds are on the other shore began indiscriminate shelling of the Strait.
– These fools will kill us! – yelled CJ – Full throttle, full throttle.
Boats raced to cut through the water with a blunt nose. Around the whistling bullets, over head flying missiles and exploding on the water surface. On the next boat a large-caliber bullet killed a Latino, holding the steering wheel. The boat turned sharply to the left, to the ears of the CJ came an indignant cry. A second later, the boat capsized and sank.
– Turn, help them! shouted Martinez.
Carl is furious contrived and punched Martinez in the jaw with the sole of the boot. The one with no sound flew over the side and flopped into the water. Vialpando fell to the bottom of the boat, and CJ emptied the remains of the shop in stunned Latinos. Then menacingly approached the latter, not daring to let go of the wheel. He looked at CJ, staring eyes, cold with anger and fear.
– Adios!
The shot merged with the General cacophony. Tie down, not letting go of the steering wheel. Carl grabbed him by the waist and gently pushed back. Slowly spreading through the tailgate, the body is left in the boiling water, having to douse Carl splashes of blood.
– Fuck you!
– What have you done!
– Anyway...
– C. J., motherfucker, what was that!?
– I say, chill. We're almost at the shore.
Carl was driving the boat at full speed.
– What is there say?..
– Nothing special. The Nazis got someone, we survived. I started to panic because of the shelling from our.
It seems the Germans pulled the battery MLRS to Dillimore and opened heavy fire on the coastal areas of Las venturasa. On the shore there was no one visible, but everywhere clapping explosions. Carl didn't know where to stick. But then help came to him from somewhere came a coast guard cutter and rushed towards their boat.
– The fellowship, save our Asses! – yelled Carl.

VII
Two hours later Carl was sitting in the office of the military investigator. He was interrogated by two white Americans, the blue – eyed blonde and green-eyed redhead, and both were evil. If Charles knew of the literary Russian language, you would describe the situation as "out of the frying pan into the fire", but he was a nigger from the ghetto and could only say "out of the points but in the ass".
– Your name is Hans Danziger?
– No, sir, my name is Carl Johnson.
– You are Volksdeutsche, Hans-Carl?
– Probably not, sir. I don't even know what it is.
– How do you German form? Are you working for the Krauts.
– No, sir, I bought it from Latin, which took it from a dead Nazi.
– Where are the Latinos?
– Went to the bottom. Our got into it.
Where did you get the boat?
– Stole it from the Nazis.
– How can they have missed it?
We attacked the post at the pier. The man explained that this post will soon be removed, and there in the morning little security. And we took a chance.
– And how did he know?
– No idea.
– How did you meet him?
We fled to the North, met near the Blueberry talking.
I wonder what it says your buddy. I can't wait to compare your readings.
– Go ahead. Only I not fled from the Nazis to tolerate dueby the feds.
– And that, under the Nazis it was possible to live?
– Well, how to say...
– You lived well? – do not let red – would you serve them? Pounded on the boys? Substituted a tail?
Street cats do not knock nor the cops, nor the Germans. And the tail will get as soon as I get out of here.
The door opened and into the room flew a hawk-nosed, balding, bespectacled man in a dirty green jacket.
Carl, my God! Carl! Alive and unharmed!
– Rosie? Damn... Man!
– So you know this guy? asked the blond.
– Do I know this guy? Better to ask how you, the investigator, do not know who stands before you!?
Again these bar things... – cast red.
– Before you kantonschule survivor of the ghetto!
– The ghetto?
– Yes! This guy went through the hell of Nazi torture and fanaticism, had died from disease and exhaustion, stood on the edge of the pit for burning the corpses, but fled to the us, and that's how you met!
The blond whistled.
Okay, go, vpisyvaya, a victim of Nazism.
The sun had set, when Charles and Caesar, accompanied by Ken Rosenberg came out from the headquarters of counterintelligence.
– So saying, Holmes again took up the legal profession?
– Yes, purely by the refugees. They go here, they are treated, I protect them, half the money in his pocket. Clean business.
– Thanks, man. Don't even know how to thank you.
– We'll talk later, Ken said – we're still not finished. Go to my brother, relax. Tomorrow, Carl, we'll go with you to the interview!
– What the fuck else interview?
Interview, which will provide you a comfortable existence and a protection from the cops and the feds. I'll drive you to the hospital.
Sweet was discharged from the hospital. Carl didn't know where to look. The connection to San Fierro didn't work. MADD Dogg flew to the mainland, leaving Ken, and dragged a suitcase of cocaine. Carl didn't want to get involved with friends until you get up to his feet, and moved with Caesar to the hotel. Rosie promised to call in the morning.

VIII
Carl, damn, couldn't you have all this time to lose weight at least ten pounds? Okay, do the long-suffering face.
– How is it?
– Imagine that you are twenty years of throwing all big, and I sat down for failure to pay a Parking ticket. Here! What you need!
– So, tell us about what is happening in gatescom ghetto. Remind the audience that the ghetto organized by the Nazis in the area Ganton – the largest and bloodiest of the ghetto of Los Santos.
– Uh... Well, the boys were forced to work...
– What are you forced? You buried the corpses of the slain?
– Uh... Yeah... Sometimes buried, sometimes dumped in the sea, if unnecessary witness...
– You were sent in the Einsatzgruppen?
– No, you know, I was a simple guy, lived, well, in General, as a simpleton, that is, I'm an honest citizen...
Say, the Germans set up on the streets of Groves gas chambers, is it true?
– Uh, well, to put it mildly, Yes... Well, niggers were oppressed so that breathing became nothing...
– It is clear. You've been through so much! Tell us about the crimes of the Nazis, witnessed by you personally.
Well... uh... the Germans are animals... uh... well, sometimes they drove the crowd niggas in the pen, and then pick up with a combine harvester and turned shifty people in a bloody mess... Well, you know... All the running around, screaming from fear, and the Nazis laugh and run over them with bandura this, as it is called, and out of the pipe behind the falling pieces of meat...
– Oh, the horror!
– Yes, uh-uh... I witnessed how they locked the foreman in the cubicle of the toilet, piled in a pit and poured concrete... uh-uh...
– Oh God, they definitely had a plan to destroy the population!
Yeah, I know, white really let himself go... I saw with my own eyes, as one white American who sided with the Nazis, raised the old woman to death with a rubber Dildo... his name was, I think, Mike Torino or Torino, in General, big shot, I then told...
– We think that the military Prosecutor's office will find time to do this Mike. What the viewers are interested in how they managed to survive in this hell?
– Well, uh-uh... I'm one of the few survivors, survived by a miracle... First swollen from hunger and was going to oak, but then escaped from the ghetto, I took out hillbilly-rednecks, I mean, villagers Dillimore... uh... They stayed loyal to uncle Sam and all that... Then we hijacked a German boat, and... uh... so I sit here and tell you about what he saw...
The output from the Studio Rosie ran to hug Carl.
– Buddy, we're rich! And you know how much the mere identity of the victims of Nazism? Yes, it's better than a certificate of schizophrenia! Now that you may have done, not who will beat – "Carl Johnson survived a ghetto, a victim of Nazism, don't touch it!".
– Okay, man, I'm very happy...
– Now agree on a price for my services.
– Yes, how much do you want?
– Half of what's in your bag!
– Well... f-f-f! Goes...
– The boy is mine! I mean, bro! I feel young again! For an advocate for refugees, just like in the good old days! Right, Tommy?

IX
The next day at the hotel showed up Suites.
– MySAP man, and I sent Caesar to look for you in San Fierro!
– There is nothing to do, bro, thing – hat.
– But Kendall!?
– No idea. Today, the Nazis launched an attack on San Fierro. If she's alive, I'll come here with other refugees. True...
– What the fuck?
– All your friends have already moved into Green meadows. There are hippies, bespectacled man in shorts, stoned master.
Who's looking after business in Fierro?
Business is screwed up, Carl. Ask about all of them.
– OK, but woozie?
– Said to have locked himself in Chinatown. I'm not kontachit. Basically sat at the airport, sometimes left in Venturas, to know about you. This morning I saw you on TV.
– What do we do, bro?
– I think that once you're with us now, stay and watch dudes at the airport and ready the plane for departure. I'll go to the Pier, and from there tries blindly to get to San Fierro. The cops closed the bridges, bro. The city is beating. I hope the PPE was able to meet with Kendall.
– We run from San Andreas?
– If the Nazis get to Las Venturas, Yes.
– A pancake as all is difficult... man, more recently we have been doing business with them, and now we run like the plague!
– By the way, about business. You fucked up ghetto. Abandoned boys.
– I blanch them until the last, those who could, fled, Sweet. The district is no more, the Nazis did not like cops.
– Well, once to discuss what you screwed up there. Go.
In the Parking lot were dusty, "Sadler". Sweet CJ tossed the keys, he unlocked the door and sat behind the driver's seat.
– What the fuck...
Sweet picked up the package lying on the passenger seat next to the driver.
– Bomb?
– So small?
– Give it to me.
Carl got out of the car, leaning on the bed and carefully opened the bag. It turned out the old recorder. On the cassette was written in black marker – "listen to me, kid."
In fact, the bomb.
– Bro, I recognize this handwriting.
– Throw the fuck up.
– It is impossible, this is a message from one asshole, which I recently framed. It is impossible to ignore. Let ziro will conduct experiments, learn, bomb it or not.
They were driving along the Northern highway. The road was empty. In the elite village of Prickly Pine was the tent town. Somewhere to the South were banging explosions.
– How far reach? – asked CJ.
– Early fall at Fort Carson, now we beat to Las Barrancas. The Nazis building rockets, it seems.
– Exactly, they had a lot of things to do. I'm afraid we don't have to wait long when they come to Las Venturas.
At the airport it was quiet. The Manager went on indefinite leave and instead was on duty repairmen. Their snoring was coming from the turrets.
In the house on a cot slept zero.
Man, Wake up.
– Carl! How glad I am to see you!
– Bro, we got a problem. See. In General, I can see the bomb or not?
I will try it.
Zero went out with a recorder, scratching his back.
– A nerd-that is not timid, muttered Sweet.
– No, he just knows that his life is now completely dependent on me, ' said Karl – moreover, I have a lot and all that.
The door opened, and in entered the house of a hippie Really.
– I felt your aura and stopped the meditation, to welcome my dear friend!
– Wisap, man!
On the way I met zero, he was carrying the recorder. I'll tell you what's in it.
– And what happens?
– Your old friend decided to tell you where did the Nazis and how to stop them.
Ha! I guessed who it was.
– You want to listen to the recording?
– Sometime later. Now I have to do the salvation of Caesar and Kendall.
Karl, we agreed that I'm going to Fierro, said Sweet.
Yeah, bro, take what you need and go, and I'll take this with a message Toreno. Enough gasoline? You got enough gas?
Yes.
– Okay.
Svit came out. CJ sat wearily on the cot and rubbed his forehead.
What are we gonna do, man? asked hippie.
– To wait. Will wait until everything is collected. Then talk about how to proceed.
– And the message?
Give this recorder you.
The truth came out. Carl lay down without removing the jacket, and immediately fell asleep.

X
He dreamed of the youth. CJ remembered that lost feeling when the body grows and makes up for all your mistakes. If you managed to use this time with advantage, provided a supply for the rest of my life. If not used as it should – or face the consequences. Carl couldn't answer, all he did right. Basically, he's physically healthy and come to success. Carl wanted to think more, but bladder woke him. Wise thoughts have evaporated. CJ jumped up from the cot and went out into the yard.
In the control room lights were on. The air was still, the stars glowed bright. From the Southeast came the muffled blows. The control room door opened, she ran out excited zero.
Carl, we're listening live! Right now, the Nazis have landed in the South of Las Venturas. They hit missiles right in the center! All terrified! Where to escape!?
– At the very least, go up to the mountains. From there try to find transport to the mainland.
– What about your planes?
On these maize not reach even to Mexico.
If he left, zero went back to the control room. Carl was alone again. After eating instant noodles, he fell asleep again. He looked like he had not slept for several days in a row so he was tired.
In the morning he jumped up as from DC, hearing a familiar voice:
– So, man, I forgive you your lie on television. Who doesn't? I'm not so tripped his superiors. In General, I'm giving you a chance to improve. The job for which we need volunteers, order in this case, I can't. However, as always. So, listen up. The Nazis appear from...
Carl grabbed the recorder and smashed against the wall.
– Your karma is full of anger, said is True – it was not the best way to blow off steam.
– Fuck, man, fuck you! Fucking crazy freak!
– So you want to learn how to stop the whole Nazi Apocalypse? They go to the North of angel Pine, between the foot of the mountain Čiliad Strait.
– I mean come out?
– There is a tunnel. It is unknown where it leads. They go out of there columns. We should blow up the entrance to the tunnel. The Nazis don't get reinforcements, and then the feds will be able to overpower them. Toreno took care of it, drove "Rustler", stuffed with C4. It is necessary to fly and crash into the mountain above the tunnel.
– Friend, I'm not interested in this topic. Leave me alone.
Sitting at the table, Karl began to greedily swallow pieces cold fried eggs. Really drank the water and left.
After finishing Breakfast, Karl went up to the control room. No one was here. On the table lay a walkie-talkie. Carl picked it up and tried the call button. The air was silent. Such radios do not beat for long distances.
CJ sat down in the chair resultando Manager and decided to gather my thoughts.
Why is it, CJ must play to the tune of Toreno, Truth and other goats even now, when everything's gone to hell, and nothing to tear the already slashed rods ass?! Not to leave them all to hell?!
His thoughts were interrupted by a sneezing routine jet engine.
Hey, True, what are you doing? – CJ went to the wing "of Rustler".
He sat in the cockpit. Not opening the hatch, he pulled out a walkie-talkie.
– Carl, you hear?
– Yes, come in.
Carl, I want to say goodbye.
– Where are you going?
– I'm going there.
– You believe all this nonsense Toreno?
Yes. They come out of there.
– How will you jump? There's no bailout. And anyway, you know how to fly?
Through the interference of the antediluvian magneto of an airplane engine, Carl heard the Truth sighed.
Most of all, Carl, people regret opportunities lost.
– So...
I don't want to lose the opportunity to fix this mess.
– Not the fact that correct.
– In any case you will reach your goal.
– Damn, man, what Blizzard are you talking about? Come out and discuss what happened.
Carl, before his death, people feel a loss not of life, and by the fact that they had not used their opportunities. Didn't do what was needed.
– How do you manage so quietly wasted?
I'm too old and alone, Carl. I can't wait it coming, the agony has already started in the thoughts.
– Okay, forget it. My attendants will last for another hundred years. Run away from this fucking island, cure, what have you, we will go anywhere you want, party, girls...
Carl, I'm fine. I'm just closer to the inevitable than you are. I'd rather see. You are yet to understand...
– You wanna fly and crash? Okay, don't insist on the opposite.
– This conversation is not as important for me as for you.
CJ nodded, ready to listen to the nonsense of a mad man.
I repeat: people not doing what you need. He's doing what they want, they assume the best for yourself or what others tell them... Okay, no time my ass!
Adding thrust, the Truth rolled on the runway. He pulled away almost at the edge and slowly gained altitude. Soon the plane turned left and disappeared behind a rock.
– Fuck you!.. Carl waved his hand and returned to the control room.

XI
The sun in the southern latitudes generously doused San Andreas light and heat. Good sleep CJ stretched in bed. Joints crackled, muscles were filled with strength, my head was clear and ready to tackle new challenges.
From the open window, because of a thick reinforcing grating could be heard the usual sounds: the cars went and honked, pedestrians stomped on her way, the boys laughed, somewhere a police siren wailed. Grove street is back to his former life, leading the average American to his uncertain dream.
And then over Gantanol came the roar:
– Komrads Frome state of San Andreas! VI ar chiar Tu help Yu Tu establish e new socialist order! Rimeyn calm! Return Tu e houses and cooperate visas auras troops! Bi Shur Tu auras follow instructns end.
Carl decided that enough was enough. Let yourself to resolve the new shit. And it will take stock of chips, Nintendo with cartridges, a hundred rolls of toilet paper, and bury in the furthest hole of the San Andreas hoping to ride out the storm without having new concerns.
Well, if it happens a third invasion, then C. J. will stay and take the initiative in their hands. Whoever it was, he'll give them the intifada.

Deleted illustrations
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