Interstate '75 - Cause For Concern

Tales of the Interstate

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Road Toad
Posts: 24
Joined: Mon Sep 06, 2004 9:13 am
Location: Slough, UK

Interstate '75 - Cause For Concern

Post by HMG [UKA] » Thu Nov 03, 2005 3:19 pm

A story set before the original game we all know and love. In general the concensus among the people who have read this is, that it's good.

Enjoy the story so far. It will be completed soon hopefully.

Road Toad
Posts: 24
Joined: Mon Sep 06, 2004 9:13 am
Location: Slough, UK

Post by HMG [UKA] » Sun Aug 13, 2006 6:01 am

I've still got lots to write for this, and I've put up a PDF document as well here:

The old word doc is also updated when i get the chance. Both of these files have the same content, so choose the format that suits you. :)

Road Toad
Posts: 24
Joined: Mon Sep 06, 2004 9:13 am
Location: Slough, UK

Post by HMG [UKA] » Tue Nov 14, 2006 8:34 am

UKA HQ is down, I'll upload the files again ASAP!

Road Toad
Posts: 24
Joined: Mon Sep 06, 2004 9:13 am
Location: Slough, UK

Chapters 1 - 3

Post by HMG [UKA] » Sun Sep 28, 2008 8:41 am


Deuce was a man who led an unconventional life in the ‘70s American South West as an auto vigilante like a number of others who used vehicle combat as a tool to bring about some justness in harsher times. Extremely few members tumbled out of the general population to live their lives as auto-vigilantes to fend off criminals, using armed vehicles just as the criminal groups at all levels used armed domestic vehicles as a new platform for crime.
Criminals using this platform were called ‘creepers’, they were known to cause problems and threaten the lives of ordinary people. Auto vigilante gangs were formed to counter this new menace to society and were formed mainly by racing teams that existed during the time. Much like the racing teams knowing each other villainous underworlds were always intertwined, or so they seemed that way, seeing as money from wrongdoing would lead to a chain of other criminal activity.
Deuce exited his coach and wandered in some sun-drenched fields near a town in Texas before he had to go and meet the joint commander of his vigilante group. It was his return from hospitalisation, where he had been allowed to recover from the brink of death, in a far away town in another county where he would be safe and out of the way.

Alone Deuce stood there, with a barrel bag slung over his shoulder, accompanied only by his thoughts and the cigarette in his hand. Reams of smoke appeared as if they were ghosts of people from a time long gone, almost portraying history as it came and went. Continuing as he was, on that warm sunny day, he walked across a field that looked as if it once wore the same impression left by his trusty dark green ‘71 Corvette as it used to absorb the warm rays of the sun.
When he walked over the dried grass, he felt the familiar notion of himself walking over many upon many lives, with each occurrence not punishing him for it. Members of his calibre, that are few and far between, would definitely have struck back but in a way he could have endured. Of course the very grass he walked on was a king of plants, possibly the only plant life that could withstand such mistreatment, much like the very few individuals and tortured souls that still walk the planets in a largely non-linear fashion. One day it may be green again even with the surroundings destroyed over time.
He reached a stonewall covering a stretch of road alongside the field, and helped himself over it. With his hands he brushed off any stone pieces or other matter that his blue jeans, red shirt and hands had picked up. Readjusting his hat, he proceeded along the road when suddenly his mind shot into greater alertness as a truck carrying three large tree trunks charged past him in the direction of a nearby town, leaving the fluctuating sound of its engine chugging in its trail.
Remaining cool he saw the truck head closer to the town with each heartbeat, down the hill and towards the town entrance as it twisted and turned a yellowish haze of dust from the tarmac road paralleled by dirt on both sides. His safety was vital so he could continue his work fighting the subsidiaries of the notorious Blake Johnson. Johnson was from a historic family tree of rich, ruthless business people who for their personal gain would cause havoc for people, their livelihoods and their businesses. Anyone would have thought that the Police would have had their say in this, but even their mouths could be taped shut with enough money involved.
Wondering for a moment, Deuce moved onwards to the town where the truck was heading. This town was in a rural area was known to be rich in the natural resources, most importantly crude oil, according to the Auditing Association of America which is a governmental organisation set up to monitor the richness of areas of land. This town along with others in the area and ones more widespread were targets by Blake Johnson who probably had first glance of this information.
Who knows the government may have even been involved in the whole thing, any government in the world could never be trusted, that would just be too careless. Besides it would be easier to run a small town out than a big city, where the only prospect would have been the redevelopment of land. That was not an issue there, all there was, was money beneath the very ground that the inhabitants and their predecessors had built there lives on.
They along with their forefathers previously, had worked hard to get settled in their small lives, with their businesses, farmland and their share of happiness and woes. Their beliefs were that the very land used to build their businesses and homes was a merit to their ancestry so they frowned and looked down upon living anywhere other than this place. Moving away was not an option as far as they were concerned, but many upon many people had been slain along with their communal stature in other towns similar to this before. Pride could be a very self-destructive thing.
As he reached his destination he entered the delicatessen where he was to meet Bingo, he was greeted by the treble of some funk track playing on the radio. People sat there with their not so healthy as flavoursome coffees and ashtrays rimmed with cigarette butts. He glanced at the people as he walked past them, they didn’t acknowledge his presence but if only they'd known his importance. Sometimes he felt like he was only known by the underworld or as a phantom criminal when reported on the news.
Deuce was one of a group of vigilantes along with Bingo, who shared common goals, well most of the time anyway, they did settle their differences over the odd game of poker or via means of the war grounds known as pool tables. They were there to uphold the law where the Police and other organisations effectively left people stranded in their quandaries. He saw Bingo sitting at the side, taking one of many tables draped with a chequered material, the only thing that varied was the people entering and leaving, some old, some not so old.
Bingo greeted Deuce, who then returned the salutation and sat down, taking a quick look at the brick wall displaying pictures, mainly of old locomotives. It was passable as usual with the windows polished to sheen. “So, you’ve had your break after avoiding death, are you sure you're ready to go into business again Deuce?” asked Bingo placing his cup of tea back on the table.
Deuce nodded in reply, hesitantly asked, “So did you and Leeacon take care of the Dijon brothers?” Bingo quickly placed his tea back on the table, almost making the tea fly out from the edges, he delayed before saying, “Light Fox helped us fight off the Dijon brothers too”. Thinking about it for a moment, Deuce remembered the large force drawn by the Dijon brothers, they had many goons working for them, and even with the supposed strength in numbers they had nothing but a bunch of misled runaways out to cause trouble.
With the inexperience and naivety they were ill prepared for battle in many areas including the selection of appropriate equipment and armour for their work. “So I guess you guys kicked some ass”, Deuce said still wondering what was on Bingo’s mind. Bingo finally spoke, “Light Fox is missing”. Deuce’s eyes glazed over and lit up with astonishment, “Shit, what the hell happened, tell me”.
Bingo fully explained what happened that day and explained how Light Fox wasn’t ever seen again as an aftermath, ending, “...and that was the last I saw of him”. After about a minute of silence Bingo said, “Look man, I think we should really get down to the base, it’s about time you met the others again and got your ass back into fixing shit around here”.
Light Fox was only a few months younger than Deuce, another of the guys met through the racing circuits and street racing groups. He met him just a short while after he first became acquainted with Bingo, but before most of his buddies became entwined in vigilante circles. Deuce wondered more and thought about the disappearance of Light Fox before getting up again and turning to head out. “Hey cowboy!” shouted Bingo, causing Deuce to turn anti-clockwise to face keys flying in his direction. Deuce caught them in his right hand, just about. Bingo laughed and said, “You’re not going to get far without them.”
Both vigilantes headed out and towards the left, going past the front window of the delicatessen aligned internally with bagels, doughnuts and various other snacks with red and white ribbons clinging onto the racks. As they got around the corner they walked between some buildings and turned into a wide alley. Just then Deuce froze on a spot momentarily hearing just howls of air between the buildings. He then started walking slowly towards a dark obstruction, which was being cradled by dust rising from the sandy ground.

Deuce walked diagonally ever getting closer to his armoured green Corvette that faced him, narrowly avoiding hay ball as it bounced past him. Parked in the shade of the building to the left of her, Deuce joined her in the protection of the shade quickly realising again that it was quite simply put, a monster created for killing. He ran his hand along the bonnet and edge of the body and felt the coolness of the windscreen in the shade. Finally he opened the door and was greeted again by those black leather seats in the cockpit.
It had been weeks since the last drive, he couldn’t remember, but it felt just as it had the last time he got into his machine. After a moment of being seated he inserted the key and fired up the V8 engine with that usual growl, followed by the oscillating purr of the engine as the revs stabilised. Bingo stood to the left of the vehicle and pushed the door shut with the familiar sound of armour clicking in place, before moving to the front of the car shouting, “I had Dante fix her up for you man, hope it’s all in order.”
Deuce looked at the internal components of the car, which were all clean and as good as new, so he uttered something in his state of amazement with little more he could say. Bingo laughed to himself while walking away, and disappeared for a few moments while Deuce looked at the damage indicator only to see it decorated with a constant array of white lights. Day in and day out, it was rare to see only white lights on the display, but his absence led to the exception.
Within moments there was the thunderous noise of another car’s engine followed closely by screeching of tyres as a red ’69 Dodge Charger pulled up and blocked the end of the alleyway, it was Bingo who had taken his own armed vehicle out of hiding. “The moment I’ve been waiting for”, Deuce said to himself. He moved slowly out of the shade of the alley towards Bingo who, he watched as Deuce’s face disappeared in the shine of his windscreen.
Bingo turned his vehicle around and disappeared for a moment from sight, but he was still visible on the radar and had immediately stopped. Deuce turned towards the right to see the back of the Charger, which was equally as menacing as the front. Bingo spoke after the initial crackle of the CB radio, he said, “Hey Deuce, it’s been a while, can you still keep up”. Deuce figured out again how to operate the CB and replied, “Are you kidding? I’ve been away but I’m still the same Deuce, just watch that you don’t get in my way”.
Deuce wasn’t even allowed to close his mouth when Bingo put his foot down and left Deuce in a plume of dust and dirt. Instinctively, Deuce put his foot down to the metal and felt the car’s rear jerk from side to side leaving a curve of tyres tracks as they attempted to grip the packed dirt. Within seconds the power got to the tyres as they gripped the tarmac part of the road, sending the car tearing down the road. Bingo was long gone after the dust cleared and Deuce felt it was safe to pursue him, remembering that he was in a freshly rebuilt car.
He got the car up to a steady 80 mph along the road with buildings scattered around, which had no people or vehicles on it for now except a truck or two hauling things such as crops that had been harvested and things such as timber. Speeding up when there was less winding required, a short distance ahead he saw what looked like Bingo’s Charger driving along leaving behind dust and dirt making the rear barely visible. As he closed in, he noticed that the rear lights were not those that were characteristic of Bingo’s Charger.
It was a yellow ‘71 Plymouth ‘Cuda with black inlays, possibly a creeper he thought shortly. All of a sudden to his right he saw burning buildings and people running around in the mayhem of it all, he arrived too late to be able to neutralise the situation and so he pursued the ‘Cuda. It was possible that the driver knew of Deuce’s position, but for what the driver had done, he would soon feel the more lethal side of Deuce's presence. Deuce flicked open the switch pad for the weapons and enabled all the weapons using the toggle switches.
He placed his foot right down and drove closer to the creeper. With a push of a button, he fired a set of triple dumb fire missiles, all three of which dug in the rear of the ‘Cuda throwing fragments of metal and paint in the air. Deuce watched the creeper deliberately spin the car left and landed it in deep soil at the edge of the road. With him out of the way Deuce noticed another yellow ‘Cuda whose driver had now realised that an attack was taking place on his team member. With that, he launched a barrage of fire from 50-calibre machine gun to his rear in defence before slowing down and attempting a 180 turn only to over spin ending up practically turned exposing his side.
He turned and drove in Deuce’s direction continually firing his twin 20mm cannons only to miss every shot as his car faltered in Deuce’s direction. Deuce had now slowed down constantly watching his opponent’s position. Pressing the buttons, he unleashed the two linked 7.62mm machine guns with every shot constantly beating at the ‘Cuda’s front and sides, with the driver manoeuvring his car like a helpless fish. All he could do was have more of the paint and skin taken off, exposing more silver as took bigger holes once the 30mm cannon kicked in.
Deuce sped past quickly getting up to the speed of 120 mph remaining vigilant. Bingo was nowhere to be seen, but with a specific type of damage cast on the buildings and cars parked near them, there had to be at least one other vehicle equipped with flames throwers of some kind, Deuce put his bet on Bingo pursuing other creepers. Very soon his presumption was confirmed when he saw Bingo driving circles around a shiny black ’67 Shelby Cobra striped in yellow which was spitting fire in the direction it's front was facing, with its flame thrower turret chasing smoke.
Deuce spun around leaving Bingo to it, and waited for the 'Cuda to catch up when he started firing his linked 7.62 mm machine guns and 30 mm cannon at the Creeper. Deuce watched the creeper attempt to drive the beat up car in the direction of his Corvette. Eventually the car launched itself blazing in the air, consuming everything inside leaving both life and wreckage beyond salvageable. Deuce reversed off the tarmac road and turned to take a look at Bingo's progress.
Bingo tore the road up with his tyres as he twisted and turned the Charger, and forced either sand from beneath the tyres or smoke from burning rubber as he tangled the course of the flame thrower. Deuce slowed down and stopped a comfortable distance away from the fight and watched Bingo eventually beat holes into the body of the Cobra with his 7.62mm turret. Lifting the CB transmitter to his mouth, he said, “We’ll take this piece of shit alive”. By then Bingo was driving up to Deuce with a few black marks from the fire to which his red Charger was exposed. Bingo turned in a circle so that both vigilantes were facing the incapacitated Cobra, which was facing away from both of their cars.
Bingo aligned himself with Deuce’s car and then turned to look at him. Lifting the CB transmitter he said, “Phew! That thing’s just about to blow”, then looking at his ammo gauges said, “I’m almost out of 7.62 mm shells. Anyway, you certainly took your time”. Deuce then shrugged and said, “Well, I only had to chase your ass for the last mile only to discover that I was following creepers, it seems that you guys didn’t exactly wax all of the fools under the Dijon Brothers, did you?”
After a moment as they both turned to look forward, their eyes saw two cannon shots hit the Cobra sending it flying into the air and landing on its tail with the front following and slamming against the grey. Bingo quickly looked around to see cannon shots being fired everywhere, when Deuce said, “One more creeper to deal with, I’m sure it won’t make a difference in the bigger scheme of things.” Deuce turned the Corvette sharply to the left and Bingo drove around the right.
By now Deuce was aimed straight at the creeper in the right hand lane and Bingo was rolling into position in the left lane off the dirt and onto the tarmac. Heavy damage and a a flat tyre from earlier prevented the 'Cuda from earlier from driving properly. It's driver fought to keep control of the vehicle as he fired all over the place missing every shot. Deuce shouted over the CB, “Help me out here, we need this fool alive.” Bingo's turreted 7.62 mm machine gun came to life in short bursts as he snaked left and right towards the creeper.
Deuce jammed the gas pedal and his Corvette lunged forward and fired a set of triple dumb fire rockets that ravaged the front of the ‘Cuda, making lighter work for the 7.62 mm machine guns. He turned left to avoid the 20 mm cannons and then turned right sharply sending the car sideways across the road firing bursts of the machine guns to tear apart the already broken front grille and render the engine dead.
As the ‘Cuda ground to a halt, the driver realised that his fuel tank was the only thing his conscious could think of right now. Then he remembered that he was faced with the match that would ignite that problem as he focused in on the green Corvette staring him out along with Deuce seated in its driver seat. Deuce closed in towards the front of the ‘Cuda and shouted out of his now partly wound down window, “Now I’m only going to say this once, get out of the car and we’re going to take you with us, or you know what time it is.”
In a panic, the driver elbowed open the door and squirmed out of his now trashed ‘Cuda. He stood there with his hands up and with fuel beneath his feet expecting shots at the knees before burning to death, at least that would be less painful than being cooked inside. Deuce lifted his .45 calibre pistol from its holder, and had it at the ready as he opened the door and put a foot outside his vehicle, maintaining a direct line of fire with the creeper at all times. “Don’t do anything stupid, or I’m going to empty this chamber here.”
Bingo’s car growled as he pressed the accelerator as it approached the to a short distance behind the open Corvette door, and he proceeded to open the door and get out armed. He walked backwards to the rear of his red Charger, now with added black, to fetch a rope. As he approached slowly with the rope, Deuce walked towards the creeper, put the gun to his head and grabbed him by the back of his black leather jacket and pulled him to where Bingo was.
They quickly tied his hands behind his back, tied his legs together and stuffed him in the back of the Charger. Getting into the Charger driving seat, Bingo growled, “Make a mess in here, and I’ll put you back in your own heap off junk.” Deuce checked to see if there was anything worth salvaging from the car and found nothing but a good amount of 20mm cannon ammo in the trunk of car, there wasn’t much time to get anything else so he entered his car, fired up the engine and waited until Bingo had reversed and turned around heading down the road.
Deuce reversed and let off some triple dumb fire rockets, the first of which blew up the damaged ‘Cuda sending it flying in the air and the rest which simply hit the now airborne inferno as it came crashing to the ground. Deuce turned the car and headed back to the base, to where Bingo had already began his journey at a fast speed.

It took about fifteen minutes for Deuce to drive along the long road and navigate through a network of streets, layered in golden dust beneath the hot rays of the sun. His tyres beat the road all the way until he was acquainted with the armoured steel base. Its thick matte grey coating of paint on the steel is was used to disguise it as an abandoned warehouse, maintaining a level of secrecy and keeping it more inconspicuous with the derelict dusty surroundings.
Beneath the armour of the rectangular building is a structure built with bricks that gains protection from any heavy assault that would otherwise damage it’s sensitive mass. Deuce inserted an access key in to the metal post outside to open the doors and inched the car onto the concrete floor of the base, he got out to press a button inside to close the steel doors and lock them. Getting back in the car, Deuce moved it forwards in this area that was like an internal car park. It had far more than adequate room for the several cars that were parked there in a square facing the normally empty area where the green Corvette had stopped.
Deuce reversed the car and turned left to park in the usual spot that he used. He turned off the engine, got out and began the walk past the cars, then made his way through the workshop area which was the largest single area of the base. Idol was the first to see Deuce deeper into it and yelled, “Hey Deuce, are you doing okay?” Deuce replied, “I’m fine, thanks for asking, where did Bingo take that creeper?” he said halting for a moment. “He took him outside to interrogate him”, replied Idol. “Okay thanks, how are you keeping anyway?” Idol smiled and said, “Not to bad, just completed fixing my ride, on that account good to know that they fixed you up. Glad you're back kid.”
Deuce headed towards the back of the workshop and turned right to head closer to the door. He saw the back of Bingo as he stood on the dusty wooden panel flooring outside, as he looked through the gap between the steel door and it’s frame edge. Closing in further, Bingo was no longer visible and he saw the creeper tied to a chair against the wall with his mouth, taped shut. Deuce pushed the door open and got outside.
Bingo said, “He wouldn’t shut up, so I taped his mouth shut and figured I’d wait until you got here.” Deuce turned towards the creeper, held the tape edge and began, “Now just answer the questions or you’ll just waste your time and more importantly ours”, removing the tape he said, “Now, who are you and who do you work for?” The guy said, “My name, is Rancour, I was working until recently for the Dijon Brothers…” hesitating he said, “…you guys aren’t gonna kill me are you, you would have done it already.”
Deuce said, “Don’t bet on it,” drawing his .45 gun from the back of his belt. Pointing it in the direction of Rancour, he said, “Don’t test my patience, who was that shit head you worked for?” Rancour said, “Okay, okay! That man in the Cobra, we call him ‘Light Bearer’ as his cover. I simply get cars, equipment and money for doing jobs around town, that's my pay for it. All I know about him is that he used to work for the Dijon Brothers and says that he still does much like others who worked for them. It’s become more of an umbrella name you see.”
Deuce asked, “Do you know if the Dijon fools worked for that bastard Blake Johnson?” bobbing the gun at Rancour’s face. “I’ve told you all I know!” shrieked Rancour. Deuce spoke. “Well, I’m guessing even them fools had to work under someone, who better than Johnson for their league of work. I’m going to give you this one chance to live, provided that you work along side us and do good for once.” His reply was, “You leave me little choice Deuce, I have heard things about you and your group”.
Upon hearing the words, Deuce said, “Fair enough, you’re one of the team now, we can’t exactly let you go until you’ve proven yourself, just remember those fools we left on the road back there, the same will happen to anyone who wants to cause unrest. We are the judges, we are the jury and we eliminate anyone who breaks our law, don’t be the next example. Go and meet the guys, and don’t do anything stupid.” With that the new recruit left Deuce and went with Bingo to meet the other guys. Bingo notified all of the team of the new member and his deference to the work of the UKA.
Bingo returned outside to Deuce who was facing out from the building just about to smoke a cigarette when Bingo went and stood also facing outwards. Deuce said, “I’ve been away, for how long I don’t know, but I have always asked myself why the world is the way it is. Selfishness and greed defines existence. I mean look at that kid, God knows what kind of a shit life we saved him from. Poor kid would probably have been dead by tomorrow.” With that Deuce lowering his stare down to the ground in front of him for a few moments.
Bingo said “Well at least he’s with us now, and he has only been in vehicle combat for a short time. The creepers that were around when Light Fox disappeared were all killed. Oh and as for the Dijon Brothers, they’re definitely ashes now because I saw them die with my own eyes.” Returning his cigarette back to his lips, both men looked into the distance at the sun hiding itself away. Bingo finished his cigarette and flicked the butt out onto the dirt of the ground. Deuce said, “Let’s go get a soda”, before leading the way in with the remainder of his cigarette pursed near the left hand side of his mouth.
They re-entered the armoured building to be greeted again by the usual stench of oil and gas, with car parts lying around on the ground, on worktables and in parts bins. Idol was spraying his car to one side of the workshop far from the parked cars, and Dante was fitting his black van with some new gadgets as usual, Deuce walked up and thanked him for fixing up his Corvette after his previous encounter with men under Johnson, where he was attacked as he slept in his vehicle.
That night Deuce was responsible for exhausting reconnaissance of certain areas far from the base, where he had to stay away alone for an extended period, the mortar attack was quick and if it had not been interrupted by Leeroy, would have had a lethal repercussion on Deuce. Deuce warily said, “You done a great job on my car man, she was practically a wreck, hell so was I. Anyway I can’t thank you enough for taking care of her.”
Dante stood straight with a wrench in his hands, with sleeves rolled up on his muscular arms. He nodded and said, “No problem, we’re just glad you survived man. I saw the new guy. If anyone’s gonna show that guy around, I say it should be Leeroy, he should scare him from doing anything stupid like running back to his old gang.” Deuce said, “Well, I think we can trust him, he was just led astray. Anyway man, I need a soda and a chat with some of the guys so I’ll leave you to it.”
After that, he walked towards Bingo who stood inside in front of the door with the orange remnants of the desert sun shining in through the door on the side of his face. Bingo led the way into the strategy room to the right of where he stood. Planning and reflection were only secondary uses, but the strategy room was predominantly a lounge. There was no external light going in except from the three bright lights hanging from the low ceiling, the central one being embraced by the delicate waves of cigarette smoke as they arced off its cream coloured cone lampshade.
In the centre of the robust brown carpet was a light brown rectangular wooden table, with three sturdy wooden chairs along each side and two at each end. Leeroy sat at the far left end of the table studying various maps of the surrounding areas. Rancour was sitting across from him, eager with anticipation. Deuce asked him, “So, do you know where any of the former Dijon clan is likely to hit?” Rancour said, “Well, I heard them talking about hitting a bank.”
With that Deuce wondered for a second what part this new recruit may have had in the burning building he had seen earlier, “You ever killed anyone innocent?” Rancour shook his head and said, “I didn’t open fire on that building earlier, if that’s what you’re asking. As far as I know I was just a human shield and look out while the others done the damage. I have attacked a vigilante, but only because it was under pressure. As for killing anyone innocent, I have never killed anyone.”
Bingo’s eyes lit up, “What was he driving?” Rancour got a bit worried and said, “Well, he was too quick, he was driving… well, I think it was a…” “Go on! Say it!” shouted Bingo, fearing this guy may have attacked Light Fox. Rancour then said, “It was a Maroon Mustang, Mach 1 I think, with gold stripes with a black hood. My boss got real fiery when I didn’t get him. I deliberately let Wheeler go because I knew him, kind of.”
Deuce then said, “So how did you know him?” Rancour then explained the whole situation about how he ran away from home and joined the clan, as it was supposedly an easy way out of his troubles. He also explained how he had got close to some vigilantes that he had to track at local places where he made direct contact with them. Everything of what little he had done in the short time he spent with the Dijon’s was out of fear of getting killed for not doing it.
Deuce said, “Well, you’ve convinced me of your innocence in the matter and I think you will make a good addition to the team.” Bingo laughed and added, “Oh, and good kill earlier, that was your leader I assume?” Rancour said, “I never liked that bastard anyway.” “Well, you won’t have to do anything you don’t want to do with us, if we go and turn any of their operations on head, you’re welcome to join us,” ended Leeroy.

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