G.T.A. Syndicate

Disclaimer: I don't own Grand theft auto

A/N: This idea came to me from a basic what-if thought I had playing GTA V. It evolved into a world-related twist that I think you'll appreciate, if not find relatively fresh. In which case we see an attempt to bring down a vicious syndicate and one man's attempt to save his son. It's the return of Carl Johnson

Second note: I know it's been a long time, and I had taken this down due to other things that popped up. Thanks to "betterthanbraniac" for being so devoted to wanting to see this fic return, I've revived it. I hope you enjoy it and hope to hear everyone's thoughts as it goes along.


Chapter 1 (Shadow Organization)

From the Diary of Carl Johnson – December 2013:

If I had known beforehand the exclusive club I had joined, and the demands that would never end, I would have turned up my nose and left before they could sink their claws into me. Once you fall under their radar, they never release you, and the only escape is the sweet release of death.

I am the one who got away, the gang I was once loyal to never betrayed my location-and my entourage was always on the move. Never stay in one place for too long, that is how they find you; and just when you think you're out, they pull you right back in.

My son, born two years prior to the chaos in '92, was forced to grow up without the presence of his father. My greatest regret, but it is the life I've lived. He was safe and innocent, and I've made his aunt swear to me that he would grow into a great man. It is as I say, we can never escape the syndicate. They've found him, seasoned him. I must return to San Andreas, to save him. I was one of the best, they couldn't have me so they took my son…for that, they will fall…

Franklin Clinton raced down the highway with his two mentors, laughing aloud as they made their way towards the Kortz Center. He had a bottle of beer in his hand. "Man, I can't believe we did it. Breaking the UD. Taking out Haines, Stretch and that Chinese guy. We don't have to worry anything anymore."

"We did it, kid!" Michael exclaimed. Trever cried out jovially as well, raising a bottle of Gin. Franklin sipped his beer and looked out the window with a sigh.

"Man, we should have brought Lamar to celebrate with us." Lamar was such a crucial part of their last gig together, so he felt like his best friend deserved to be in on this spontaneous celebration. The only reason he wasn't here was because both Michael and Trevor mentioned the celebration as being exclusive.

"Sorry we can't bring him along, kid." Michael frowned, and a hint of regret flashed in his eyes. "The thing is, taking out the Union Depository, then taking out those guys that we did…it attracted attention." Franklin's heart stopped in an instant and he looked nervously at the two.

"What kind of attention? I thought you said leaving that Dave guy alive was going to keep heat off us, man."

Trevor leaned forward, patting Franklin's shoulder. "It's alright man, it's not bad heat. It's good attention. We've been offered protection for life." Michael raised his eyes to the rearview.

"Yeah, think of it as insurance. Isn't that how you explained it, Trevor?"

"That's right."

As they pulled into the parking lot, a sense of discomfort settled into Franklin's gut. He wanted to know what this 'attention' was, and how these people would have known their identities from the get-go. "Man, I thought no one knew it was us that hit that super bank."

"No one does know, kid." Michael scratched his head and pulled into a parking space. "You know, this 'attention' as it is, I don't really know how they know about us. I think they're more interested in you, Frank."

"Me? Why me?"

"I don't know. They just are. Trevor knows more about them than I do."

"Ah not much more," Trevor replied, "I've done some dealings with this group. They're not a gang so much as they seem to be an organization of some sort, but they're really hush-hush. Not much is known about them other than they are impressed by massive acts."

"Such as?"

"Say you're a gang member and you destroy all the leaders of rival gangs and take control of an entire city yourself-they'll try and get you. Say you manage to fight off an entire army all by yourself, they'll try and recruit you into this thing of theirs. We just robbed the biggest bank, killed the leader of a major Chinese drug cartel and a FIB director…they're definitely interested in us."

"Man, I don't have a good feeling about this." Franklin crossed his arms and looked up at the building. "I don't know why. I just feel like there's something really off about this. Are we really about to get directly involved with another organization? After the whole IAA and FIB shit? The way you talk about it is some secret society bullshit."

"It really kind of is." Trevor ran his hand over the back of his neck and closed his eyes. "I mean, what can I say? It's a mysterious organization that knows how to keep themselves shrouded and hidden away. All I know about them is they operate largely in Liberty City, Vice City and San Andreas…I guess they have connections throughout Los Santos and other areas."

There was still something shady, and he was suspicious that Trevor might know more than he was letting on. Franklin trusted the two men with more than anything, so there was no reason he could think of that they might lie.

"Wasn't this place that big fight with the FIB and IAA happened?"

"Merriweather too. Can't forget them."

"Right…" They left the car and started towards the building. "So this secret society agency. If they're so powerful, how does no one know of them?" Trevor shrugged.

"Members are probably sworn to secrecy." Michael and Franklin looked to him, raising their eyebrows up. "Their enemies probably are cut down pretty quickly and never have time to spread news about them…or they're probably recruited."

"How do you know even this much?" Michael inquired. Franklin wondered the same, considering that Trevor may actually be involved with this top secret group. "Did they contact you before? I know you've got that whole thing with Trevor Enterprise that you've had up and running for years…Are you the reason they're here?"

"No." Trevor raised his right hand. "I solemnly swear that I have no knowledge of their interest in us outside of the UD and the shitstorm we just orchestrated."

Someone dressed in a tux opened up the door and led them inside, waving his hand through the air. "Come with me, Mr. V has been expecting you." They followed the man in silence. All around them were guards in suits and black shades like that of secret service.

"Yet another shady bunch of assholes," Franklin muttered under his breath.

They walked to the top floor where a man in his sixties stood overlooking the wide cityscape in front of him. His hair was grey and wispy, and his face was covered in wrinkles.

As he turned, his dark eyes zeroed in on Franklin, and his thin lips curved into a smile. "Ah hello there. You may call me Tommy." When he turned around fuller, it wasn't hard to miss the silk Hawaiian dress shirt hidden beneath his dark blue tuxedo.

"Um hi Tommy." Franklin waved and looked back at his two mentors. Michael was glancing around cautiously, eyeing every armed bodyguard and the doors. He took pride in seeing the man covering all his bases, and smiled as his heart started to rise.

Next to him, Trevor was standing almost at attention-appearing like one of the many suited men. All that had to change was the color of his brown tuxedo, and he'd fit right in.

Franklin's brow furrowed and tensed as the smile faded from his face. "Damn Trev, you're looking a little too comfortable here." Like Michael, Franklin had become accustomed to seeing shit go wrong and hit the fan.

Tommy reached out, placing a wrinkled hand onto Franklin's back. "Relax my boy." Franklin twisted and took a step back. He reached around and dusted off his own tuxedo, then fixed his black shades. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

"What is all this? Michael says you guys can offer some sort of protection or something, but even he doesn't know who you are."

"Not many do." Tommy locked his hands behind his back and walked around Franklin. "We are a powerful organization devoted to protecting individuals like yourself, in return for your services to the organization."

"Man that already sounds shady, dog."

"I assure you, it is not." Tommy chuckled softly and extended a hand. "Think. We are comprised of the biggest, most lethal and dangerous assassins who have taken down criminals like the mafia, taken out major drug dealers, and even burglarized super banks…" He placed his hand to his chest and curled his lips into a toothy smile, revealing a golden tooth on the back of the upper row. "All for a good cause, of course."

"Oh? A good cause?"

"Yes. We aid the poor and the victimized." Tommy's eyebrows moved together and he cleared his throat. "You've heard the story of Robin Hood, no doubt? Stole from the rich, gave to the poor? That's where we come in."

"Then what do you want with us?"

"You just took out a good chunk of a private army, the FIB, a major Chinese mafia leader, and a confidante of this city's most dangerous gang. Do you honestly think you will be left alone?"

"Yeah," Michael answered suddenly. "We got a contact that will protect us." Michael scratched his beard and raised his eyebrows. "He'll keep the heat off us." Tommy's hand rose to his chin, and he paced to the right.

"Yes, that FIB agent of yours, Agent Norton." Michael jerked his head back and stammered, earning a smirk from the aging leader. "Yes Mr. Townsley, we do our research. Now, tell me, should something happen to this Agent Norton, would you truly be safe?"

"I-Well I mean-"

"The answer is no." Tommy spread his hands out and narrowed his eyes. "Our organization offers protection like no other. We have contacts in every group, organization, and power in this country. You want your nose clean, we will clean it." Tommy raised his hand, pressing his thumb and forefinger together. "If the Federal government or the police have files on you…" He snapped and Franklin flinched. "Gone. Erased. It'll be like you've never existed, or if you exist, you have never committed a single crime in your life."

Michael started to grin and nod. "So you're saying, you can cover up the thing we've done?"

"Cover it up? No sir." Tommy flashed a scowl and his hands returned behind his back. "We do not simply sweep your problems under a rug, because someone can still remove that rug and discover what is hidden. We destroy it, erase everything."

This was sounding too good to be true, but already Michael appeared to be buying into it. Franklin took a small step back and looked up at the sky above them. "I don't know about this, Michael."

"Man this is perfect." Michael swept his hand through the air and laughed. "We'll be safe forever, people will forget all about us won't they?"

"I don't think it's that simple." Franklin crossed his arms and stared Tommy straight in the eyes. "So we'll be protected by your organization, but what's the price? What do we have to do in exchange?"

"Help us with jobs that need to be done." Tommy's right hand rested on his abdomen and he bent forward. "We will provide you with security, your own branch in the organization. You'll be one of the leaders."

"So the hits we just did, and the bank job, this attracted your attention?"

A peculiar emotion flashed in Tommy's eyes and his gentle smile grew. "Yes. Although we've had eyes on you for some time. The potential was there, we wanted to see where it would go…"

"What do you mean?"

"That, my boy, is for you to discover. For now, we are here to discuss ourselves, rather than you. You may ask any questions about our organization, as this is the time I can provide answers."

"Okay." Franklin shrugged and his eyes slid off to the right. "So you're the boss? Or is there someone above you?"

"There was once, when the organization took root in the early 1960s. That leader, Rodney Morash jumpstarted this organization of ours over in London when he took over the crime in the city."

Franklin crossed his arms and leaned his head back, thinking over the tale. If the organization started overseas in London, and was now in America, then it must be a large group. "So ya'll are global, then?"

"More or less. You see, in the eighties, Rodney looked for connections to the US. He found me in Vice City." Tommy put his hands to his chest and flashed a proud smirk. "But eventually, an affinity for drugs caught up with him and he passed in the early 90s." He bowed his head and dropped his hands in front of his waist "It was a shame. In 92, we found a suitable replacement for him here in San Andreas."

Franklin raised his eyebrows and watched as Tommy's eyes flashed with ancient anger. "He abandoned us. Now I am at the head. Tommy Vercetti." The name struck a chord in him, as he recognized it from an old paper he did in high school about crime sprees.

"You're that guy that wiped out the Forelli gang in Vice City back in the eighties." Tommy chuckled softly.

"You are a smart kid." Tommy raised his right hand, pressing his forefinger and thumb together. Franklin took a step back, bracing himself for whatever was coming. "Bring them." The man snapped his fingers and Franklin shut his eyes. When all he heard was footsteps, he saw Tommy opening a box and a man standing beside him.

Tommy raised his eyes and flattened his lips. "You do not trust us?" Lowering his defenses, Franklin emitted a nervous chuckle. "Good. Never be too trusting of someone you hardly know."

"It's just, here you are offering the world. A super-secret organization almost too good to be true. I'd be crazy not to think it was a setup or that something was about to go seriously wrong." Franklin looked at Michael and Trevor, then shrugged. "But man, if they believe in you, maybe you can't be all that bad."

Ironically it was Michael that taught him to always be watchful and cautious, never give into something without full examination. Now here, though Michael still appeared suspicious, he wasn't saying anything to suggest such.

"You said we'd be doing what for you, again? Odd jobs and stuff?"

"Once in a while we might call upon you to perform a task for us, nothing too big."

Franklin crossed his arms and started to hum. He was tired of doing jobs for other people, or at least, tired of criminal jobs. A legitimate job he would be more than happy to do.

While he grew up a gangster, at heart he'd always known his crazy aunt had been right in suggesting he become something 'real'. Even that bitch Tanesha was onto something, and now that they'd gotten more money than they'd ever need, he didn't want any more criminality.

"I really just want to take it easy. No more gangbanging, no more heists or being some patsy or monkey for corrupt or criminal agencies."

"I assure you, you will be free to live your life how you wish. Once in a while we may call upon you, but it will not be for anything you have little room for." Franklin smiled gently, pleased with the alternative.

Tommy was a smooth talker, if nothing else. His once sharp brown eyes seemed to grow more delicate and trusting, and nothing about the man's stoic posture indicated deceit.

Perhaps there was little reason to worry. "So uh, what's in the box, Mr. V?"

"Little gemstones, if you will." Franklin leaned forward with his two mentors and saw three rings, each with different colored gems. The one on the far right looked like a college ring with an oval shaped emerald gem in the center. In the middle was a similar ring with an opal gem, then the left ring had a ruby gem. The ruby ring looked a slight bit dirtier than the other two.

Michael and Trevor took their rings; Trevor took it automatically as though reunited with an old friend while Michael hesitated for a brief second.

Franklin started to reach for his when he heard a strange sound from above. "What's that?" He turned his head up in time to see several smoking canisters flying from stairs overhead. Gunfire sounded out from all areas.

"Maccer, Paul, get in there!" A man's voice proclaimed. A helicopter hovered from above and a ladder poured out. "Dogg's ready with the chopper."

Tommy was tackled by one of his bodyguards, and almost instantly Trevor pushed Michael aside and grabbed a gun to open fire on the chopper. The smoke from the thrown canisters started to surround them, and Franklin's breathing started to grow heavy.

"What's going on?" Franklin waved his hands in the air and watched as Tommy escaped with his bodyguard while Trevor carted Michael out the door, shouting for Franklin to run with them.

He turned to run, but his legs were growing weak. He saw two men running at him, both thin and pale. Before they could reach him, they were gunned down.

Some of the last few bodyguards succumbed to the smoke, and Franklin's legs had become so heavy that he dropped to his knees and put his hands over his face. "Knockout gas," he muttered, "I can't-"

Within seconds everything grew dark and Franklin fell forward. In his last few moments of consciousness, he felt a tug at his waist, then a lightness beneath him. The chopper's blades drowned out all sound around him, leaving him to focus on it as he lost total consciousness.


So what are your thoughts so far? Seems like Trevor may actually be a part of the organization, more so than he admitted to. The war has begun, as it seems from the minute the syndicate sank their teeth into Franklin.