The Corroded Mind of Alexandra [GTA V]

I don't know Russian, and my Spanish is severely lacking, so please bear with me.

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"I poked my head out of the gutter for one freaking second and fate shovels shit in my face." - Ken Rosenberg - Grand Theft Auto: Vice City

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"Hey, asshole! You ran off before we could settle our debts" Michael screams up at the half-naked man.

"Michael, bud! You got the wrong idea, man" he yells back from the luxurious house.

"Banging married woman's a hobby, not a fucking profession" Michael says in anger.

"Cuckoldry can be a pretty good profession."

She gets no response.

"There's a winch in the back of the truck" Michael informs them.

"Tie them to the support?"

"Damn right."

"You finna pull his deck down?" Franklin asks in surprise.

"Hey, that prick pulled my marriage down."

"Man, you really gonna be this fucking dramatic?"

"Yeah, whatever."

"I told you I'd comp the session, bud!" The man on the balcony screamed down, causing Michael to further boil in anger.

While they argue, Alexandra sets up the winch, hooking it to the house's foundation. Walking back, she stands to the side, while Michael gets in the truck, completely intent on ruining another man's life in revenge.

As she stands by, watching over the situation, Michael starts to drive forwards. With foundations bending and house crumbling, Alexandra hears the two's exited voices coming from the truck. Eventually, the building is pulled down, furniture and rubble creating a man-made avalanche. Once crumbled, Alexandra hops back onto the truck bed, reeling the hook back in. 

"Yeah! Fuck! Come on!" Michael yells in excitement, adrenaline coursing through his body for the first time in years.

"Fuck, man! Fuck" Franklin exclaims in shock.

"Oh we did it! Fuck his ass!"

"Yeah, fuck him. But, was we really trying to pull the dude's house off the fuckin' hill?"

"We were trying to teach him a fucking lesson."

"Now, that's an expensive bitch-ass lesson, man."

They continue their jovial conversation as Alexandra watches over the surroundings. Suddenly, Michael's phone starts ringing, from which she hears the man who's life they just ruined. Or at least they had thought, as the man stated it wasn't his. Eventually, a woman takes the phone, screaming into it something that would force her hand to protect her new companions:

"Green light! Green light! Martin Madrazo give you green light!"

"Oh, I'm scared lady, just-"

"Michael, give me the phone. Now."

Alexandra reaches through the back towards Michael, who, hearing her serious tone, handed it over. Thinking quickly, she puts the phone up to her mouth.

"Передайте Мадрасо, что если он пошлет за нами людей, то красная книга будет иметь новое название. У нас будет цивилизованный разговор в доме агрессора, без насилия. И лучше не скрывать от него эту информацию. Он не очень обрадуется, когда узнает."

Alexandra hangs up, handing the phone back to Michael.

"What was that about? What did you say to her?"

"A blatant threat, one that she won't be able to ignore."

"How so?"

"Martin Madrazo wouldn't be able to forgive her for the transgression. That's all you need to know, for now at least. You'll probably figure out the rest soon. Just know this; do not underestimate that man. At least, not now. Also, I'd suggest you get ready to work. Martin won't let this slide."

"I've dealt with worse."

"No, you haven't. Martin is pathetic, but at the end of the day, he is a kingpin, someone who holds a tremendous amount of power across Los Santos. Provoking him could lead you to your second death. You've gotten a second life, Michael. You won't get a third."

As she speaks, two SUV's suddenly speed towards them. Alexandra immediately clocks who they are, anger writhing within her fragile mind.

"I might just kill that woman. Or Martin. Most likely both."

Alexandra looks behind her, Michael looking back through the mirror.

"We've got company. I'll handle them. Just focus on our surroundings."

"Nah, fuck that. Let's get these motherfuckers" Franklin says, followed by Michael pulling out a pistol from somewhere.

Alexandra sighs and pulls out her gun, quickly taking aim and firing at the vehicles. Having only eleven rounds, she tried to make them count. She hit a tire of one of the vehicles, causing it to spin out. Michael, even while driving, was able to shoot the man who got out of the driver's side, while Franklin hit the passenger.

Being way too prideful to accept being outdone, a trait gained from her parents, she calmed down and looked forwards, reigniting an old flame still simmering in her heart, now blazing through its confines. Time seemed to almost slow, the sound of a clock ticking in Alexandra's ear as she took in her surroundings, gun at her side. Eventually she exhales, lifting her gun and firing. 

The other vehicle following them swerved, before crashing into a nearby building.

'Hm. It's been a long time since I've felt that. Feels like I stretched my legs a bit.'

Michael and Franklin start talking, exhilaration evident in their tone. Alexandra, paying no attention to them, tried to calm herself from the imminent rage threatening to overwhelm her.

They eventually reach the house, entering through the front gate, and exit the truck. Michael and Franklin start walking towards the house, while Alexandra walks towards the big tree in the yard, pulling out a small flask.

An engine revving in the distance, a car frantically pulls up to the front gate and enters it. Quickly, two men exit the vehicle, who then open and hold the door for two others; one a gray-haired man, the other a woman wearing leopard print.

"Do you know who I am? Do you know who I am? Do you?" the man angrily speaks, pointing a finger at Michael. Another with a baseball bat flanks him.

"No!" Michael answers.

"Do you, you?" he asks, pointing at Franklin.

"I think so" he responds.

"Good."

...The silence that lasts for only a second feels eternal.

"I know who you are, I know where you live. Who are you?" he continues, pointing again at Michael, then once more at Franklin.

"I'm Franklin."

"License."

Franklin reaches in his pocket, intent on handing it to him, but a voice speaks up.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Franklin. He'll pull you into his delusional quest to conquer this city."

The four people near the SUV turn around at the voice, seeing a woman drinking next to a tree. The two bodyguards pull out a gun.

"And who are you?" Martin asks.

"I know it's been eight years, Martin, but are you really so senile as to forget how to profile someone? How low you've fallen. I mean, you were already scraping the bottom of the barrel, but you went and broke through to go deeper, huh?"

Martin's rage reaches its peak.

"You know nothing of me, you fool!"

"Oh really? I'm guessing that woman over there didn't tell you? *tsk tsk tsk* I warned her to inform you, but that mistress of yours didn't say a thing, did she?"

Martin looks over to the woman, arrogant look still plastered on her face, before looking back towards Alexandra.

"And what would that be, huh?"

Alexandra is silent for a second before speaking;

"Tu nombre ya está en la lista roja, viejo amigo. ¿Qué pensaría Patricia si supiera que su marido casi mata a un mensajero?"

Martin looks at her in shock, and the bodyguards in confusion. Taking a closer look at her, Martin starts to see the signs; grey eyes, sunken yet still piercing. Her method of standing, one hand always at her right side. But the most damning evidence; the streaks of purple running through her hair, dark as the abyss.

"...Alexandra?"

The woman in question smiles, a dangerous glint in her eyes.

"There's no rest for the wicked, Martin."