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G Alvarez

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  1. Gonzalo Alfonso Sanchez, born in San Felipe just outside of Santiago, Chile. Gonzalo was from a lower class family in San Felipe, who struggled to pay bills, and live through age, and lack of work within the region. He was forced by his father to be involved in drug smuggling operations with an Uncle who had connections in Bolivia, Peru and Mexico in order to provide for his family. Before Gonzalo was old enough to know what he was involved in, he was already way deeper into the drug game than he could have ever imagined. He was fairly intellectual, and achieved well at school. But opportunities were few and far between for someone with the background and residence of Gonzalo… Chilean Authorities bust a 3 tonne cocaine drop at a port not far from Santiago, as he and his Uncle listened in from a designated stash spot just inside the city. Gonzalo’s Uncle knew that they had to run, if they didn’t, either the authorities who knew who they were would fine them, or, the cartel who’s 3 tonne shipment just got bust, would suspect Gonzalo’s Uncle, and have them both disposed of. The drug game was no place for snitches, and loyalty meant everything, even though in the long run, it realistically meant nothing, and you were just a small piece of a global puzzle. Gonzalo’s Uncle rounded up some supplies, took a duffle bag of clothes, guns and money, dropped a stack of cash to Gonzalo’s parents house and left. Never to speak to his parents or little sister again, his Uncle insisted it was the only way for them to stay safe. Gonzalo’s Uncle was able to travel all the way to Nayarit in Mexico, between Sinaloa and Guadalajara before their trip took and unexpected turn. The Mule track they were on-board was stopped at a traffic checkpoint. Carnage ensued on the single carriage road, and more bad luck struck for Gonzalo with his Uncle being caught by authorities while they escaped from the truck. Gonzalo later found out he was arrested and near enough gave himself up for Gonzalo’s ability to flee and essentially his freedom from the situation they had found themselves in. He was taken to a local DEA task office and charged with international drug offenses. This gave Gonzalo some passive respect within the group of Mules that he found himself left with. Gonzalo’s journeys finally come to an end, and essentially his new life began when he was offloaded in an alleyway near the Los Santos Bank. Gonzalo was issued his new fake ID card, and sent on his way, finding a place to temporary stay in Bay City Avenue, Los Santos. *Gonzalo shown above, shortly after touching down in Los Santos* Gonzalo lay awake that night, thinking about his experience, all of the things his Uncle had explained to him on the trip, where he should go, what he should do, what he should speak about. He emptied his bag and looked at his ID card, everything looked perfect, but his Surname was labelled “ALVAREZ”. Gonzalo spent a few days locked in his tiny motel room, finishing the small amount of fluid and food that he had gathered from the trip. After spending the days stewing over what had happened and cooling off, he headed out towards Los Santos via the free bus. He was able to get himself a job within GoPostal, working as a delivery driver. Gonzalo didn’t even own a driver’s license until now, and had been illegally driving around in a banged up Rebel back in Chile. Needless to say Gonzalo knew he had no choice and threw himself into the job, using his intellectual side to blend in with the company employees and go about his day to day business without too much attention, just like his Uncle had explained to him to do. As ever in Gonzalo’s story, luck has never, and probably will never be on his side. Whilst working overtime at GoPostal during the Christmas period, his Blade was stolen from the company car parking lot, and the insurance company claimed he’d been a victim of a criminal “chop shop”. Upon finding out that he would have to pay $3,000 to be supplied with a similar vehicle, anger grew inside Gonzalo. He had done everything his Uncle had told him, he had stayed at home, studied the American language, tried to take a more middle class approach to life, blended in, and yet, he’d ended up exactly where he would of, if he stayed at home with his parents in Chile. A lower class, hopeless individual, and a helpless victim of crime. Gonzalo laid awake again once more that night, going through everything in his mind, all of the loss, pain, the powerless feeling.. Gonzalo debated taking his salary from the bank, and just disappearing into the night to try somewhere else, live a different life maybe.. He collected his salary, and went down to the Parking Lot to pick up a rental vehicle when a man bumped into his shoulder, and sparked up a conversation… Gonzalo listened initially, but didn’t pose much interest, until the man pulled out an almost brand new Elegy RH8 in Black, and said “hop in”. Turned out this man was Morello, a high ranking member of a small street gang named “Santa Capra”. He showed Gonzalo the real Los Santos, the reason why his car was stolen, the avenues of criminal opportunity within the city, the reason, why working at GoPostal was a complete waste of his time, and this sparked a new interest for Gonzalo. He forgot about his Uncles words of wisdom, for drawing attention to himself, keeping out of the eye of the law, and embraced the “gang culture” of Los Santos, Gonzalo took the be a villain, or be a victim approach to life.. It wasn’t before long that Gonzalo then found himself in a bad situation, he was given a pistol by Morello, and taken up to a marijuana field in the city outskirts to work, growing marijuana. A rival gang rolled up, and numerous gang members were injured on both sides, including Gonzalo. He was found by a Sheriff who was called to a report of gun shots by the Los Santos Freeway. Morello had sneakily snuck in, and took back the pistol from Gonzalo, then disappeared off into the distance before he arrived. Gonzalo was taken to Sandy Shores hospital, and treated for a gun shot wound to the right abdomen. Luckily for him, it missed anything vital and Gonzalo was released a few days later. As he groggily stepped outside to walk back to his motel room, a Blacked out Mesa was waiting across the road, Gonzalo hobbled down the steps of the hospital and began walking, when the Mesa spun around and followed him. Taking a few quick turns, Gonzalo thought he’d lost him, and then before long it appeared again, he heard a familiar “hop in”. It was Morello, they quickly flew down East Joshua Road and away from the hospital and Sheriff Station. Morello explained what happened, and why he did what he did. He explained to Gonzalo that two of the Santa Capra members had been deported, and one was raided by the LSPD SWAT Team. This had ended Santa Capra, and left it dead in the water, with Morello and Gonzalo being the only people left. Morello explained that he was laying low, but had other opportunities to explore with other gangs within the city. He showed Gonzalo a sheet of paper with some numbers, and names on. His next words changed Gonzalo’s outlook on life, and he quickly fell back into the path he was on before fleeing Chile. Morello had worked out that Gonzalo had loyalty, respect, and also a brain, compared to some of the other gang bangers they rolled with before. He asked Gonzalo to do a job with him, it wasn’t a legal one, nor one Gonzalo really agreed with, but for the sole friend and connection Gonzalo had in the city, he stood by Morello’s side. When the job was completed, Morello handed Gonzalo the list and said “You are a good guy Gonzo, you’ve earned my respect. For that, I will take you to the top with me, however I can. Here are some numbers, they are members of well-known gangs around Los Santos, if you change your mind and decide to stay here, they will have a home for you. I am going to lay low for a while, and I have something lined up for myself, but sadly I can’t take you with me. Stay in touch Gonzo, you are my brother, and I will always help you however I can.” Again Gonzalo headed back to his motel, and spent another night laying wide awake, contemplating his next decision. He slept for the majority of the day, and finally headed out about 6PM on the bus, to just tour around Los Santos, taking it in, trying to help him make a decision. The bus pulled up in Del Perro, and the announcement blared out “Del Perro Pier, there’s a party tonight by the looks of it, good food and alcohol on offer always” – Something inside Gonzalo prompted him to hop off, and take a stroll down the pier. He found himself embraced in the party, and enjoyed a taco, and two complimentary shots of Whiskey. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a man in a suit right at the end of the pier, with a big 4x4 covering the majority of him, besides his fishing rod. Curious as to why someone suited with a nice vehicle would be fishing at 7PM, Gonzalo headed down and sparked up a conversation about his car. The man was a White Male, tall, dark hair, but had a smart, intelligent look about him. His eyes were a kind of bloodshot red, but not quite, it was different. They chatted for a little while when Gonzalo popped the ultimate question; “So, what do you do for a living?” Kind of expecting the answer he received, the man replied “I’m a broker” Gonzalo became intrigued, “Ah, I see, a broker for what? Insurance, Stocks?” The man cheekily smirked, whilst reeling in a fish on his line, and chucking it into a thermobox of ice. “$180 a fish on average I get for a bit of peaceful fishing of an evening”. Gonzalo puzzled as to why the man hadn’t replied and changed subject smiled back in return and gazed out into the ocean. The man spoke again “What happened to you, why’ve you got the limp?” Gonzalo stared at the man for a second, and the man stared back, raising his eyebrows slightly, expecting a response. “Gun shot” Gonzalo replied. The man looked back towards his fishing line and responded “Oh..”. Gonzalo again still puzzled as to the man’s mysteriousness looked back towards the ocean. Shortly after, two other suited men came up, and began speaking to the man Gonzalo had been talking to. They was whispering quietly between them, when one of them grinned widely, and began rubbing his hands together, making a few jokes. All three turned to Gonzalo and began asking questions, before asking to see my license cards.. Before Gonzalo had gone to hospital with the gun shot wound, he had been caught in a store robbery with Antonio, one of the Santa Capra founding members. They were chased by a Sheriff, and later caught after their vehicle had been P.I.T’d by a Sheriff Kamacho. Because of this, Gonzalo holds a criminal record, and had his license for a firearm revoked. The three men questioned it, Gonzalo explained the situation, and the men nodded towards each other. The original man Gonzalo had been talking to, slid out a business card from his suit pocket, and offered it towards Gonzalo. He took the card, and looked at it. By the time he had scanned the card; the man had hopped into his Rebla and disappeared. The other two men were also nowhere to be seen and had faded into the crowded pier party. Gonzalo left well and truly puzzled, hobbled down the end of the pier, and rang the number on the back. The dialling tone stopped, and the phone was answered. Gonzalo spoke “Hello..?” The voice replied, “GoGas, 5 minutes”. Gonzalo continued to hobble down the road, as the Whiskey shots and sheer puzzlement of the situation numbed the pain from his abdomen. At the gas station, he was met once again by two of the men from before. They led the conversation entirely, with little room for Gonzalo to speak. They had handed me a duffle bag, with three briefcases stuffed inside. They explained that they needed marijuana picked for them, in order to continue their work. They went on to explain how to cut the plants, where to grow it, and advised Gonzalo to get himself an off-road motorcycle, as it was more discreet, and easier to manoeuvre. As Gonzalo left, he overheard one of the men say, “18 tables, jheeze, you’re doing 90grams an hour!” Gonzalo headed down to the low end dealership, and purchased himself a BF-400 for $20,000, which was near enough all of the salary he had scrambled together, with his hospital fees paid for etc. And headed out later in the night, to pick some marijuana from the grow spots on the outskirts of the city. This back and forth between the two men and Gonzalo happened a few times at GoGas, with them increasing the amount slowly each time. Gonzalo was being paid, and for the time it was taking, it was easy work compared to the GoPostal hours. Gonzalo felt back at home in the drug atmosphere, and kind of felt a sense of connection back to his Uncle. Gonzalo had been tasked with 5 briefcases this week, and delivered as always on time at GoGas. This time was different from the others, as the men had turned up in a Blacked Out Burrito, and not the usual Rebla, or Komoda. This time, just when Gonzalo had grown in confidence, Gonzalo had a black linen bag thrown over his head, as he was forced into the van. It felt like forever smashing around between the shins of the passengers in the back of the van before Gonzalo was helped out, and sat on some sort of crate like object. A few minutes passed, and the linen bag was pulled from his head, a tint from the moon crept in through a few broken wooden slats in the roof. Gonzalo looked around, scanned the area and the men in front of him. Again, 4 well-dressed men, suited, smart, looking pretty happy with themselves stood in front of Gonzalo. The original man from the pier started by making his apologies, “So, sorry that this has to happen like this, but we couldn’t decide whether you was an undercover agent or something, so we had to do it this way, we’ve searched you, and you seem good.” Gonzalo replies “You could of just asked, damn..” Everyone let off a smirk, before the man in the center took over. “So Gonzalo, Jack and Blagi have been telling me you’ve been pretty consistent over the past few weeks, you’ve assisted them with the marijuana they needed and for that I thank you..” Gonzalo stared at this man as he continued, well-dressed again, looked very upper class, carried a pistol on his hip, and spoke with a very proper voice. The man continued to introduce everyone, Jack was the man I met at the pier with the Rebla, he was the main source of drug production. Blagi next, sported a Mohawk, well-dressed, but seemed like trouble, the loose cannon if you want. Next up was Johnny, he was more reserved in the back, the man explained Johnny’s position, and what he does for the organisation, before finally introducing himself. He was Danny Spears, owner of the Rusty Tavern in Vespucci, and Director, of the WHITE ROSE... A long time has passed since being invited to join the White Rose. Gonzalo currently sits as an Executive within the White Rose Organisation. He has proved himself as a useful asset, never shying away from lending a hand to the fellow "brokers". Gonzalo regularly finds himself as "courier" for illegal materials, provider of security for the Rusty Tavern and always in the kitchen, whipping up some cocaine. In the early days, Gonzalo was the gun for hitting store robberies. White Rose profited massively from the stores, and it provided a semi-constant cash flow. As time progressed and the White Rose grew, connections were made, Gonzalo attended internal and external meetings. Internal meetings are vital within the White Rose, using the Rusty Tavern as a base for casual and business talk. Firmly seated within the Syndicate, Gonzalo aims to continue the bond he has with his associates, his brothers, and the brokers within the White Rose. Always striving to do better, and change the city of Los Santos.
  2. I was just about to suggest this, but mine was to be that you would be able to just reset it back to a randomly generated one at the DMV, or through an admin script command. Either way, +1 because the way it is now just doesn't make any sense.
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