Los Zetas

[Illmohim]

On 9/30/2018 at 12:44 PM, JayGamble said:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Osiel Guillen, the original founder of Los Zetas, established the Mexican criminal syndicate out of Nuevo Laredo. “Los Zetas” (or in translation, “The Z’s”) didn’t have too difficult of a time nor did it take too long for them to become one of the most dangerous and profitable organizations to ever exist, rivaling even the notorious Gulf Cartel. 

During the late 1990s and early 2000s, their influence began to spread into neighboring American regions, eventually reaching Los Santos where the Cartel raised the bar on illicit activities such as protection rackets, assassinations, extortion, kidnappings and the most common: drug trafficking. In more recent times however, Los Zetas had become fragmented and their influence diminished. 

Connections to Los Zetas would still appear but none strong enough to make a real impact on the city itself which was plagued with its own rough issues. Rival gangs already owned the streets which had no order, no organization, or any sort of sense to them. It was kill or be killed, live free and unorganized or die trying. The crime rate soared, the police were under siege, and there seemed to be no end to the mindless, pointless bloodshed in sight...but a young man named Jay Gamble had the resolve to change all of that. 

Similarly to the foundation of the original gang, Gamble found himself in an organization with no true vision, struggling to keep his fellow friends and allies organized and stable. In the midst of a war for territory between the original Clowns, Bratva and Shadow Cartel, Jay sought out Shotty Johnson, another man tired of the way things were going and the two set out to make a real difference. After leaving their previous organization, the two of them walked straight into enemy territory and approached those whom they once fought against in order to settle previous scores in attempts to heal old wounds and patch up newer ones. 

They both entered the lion’s den, the very real and very heart-pounding possibility that they may not make it out alive, a constant forethought in their minds. Though they expected to be met with hostility and violence, the unexpected happened. Rather than simply settling previous issues, the two were given a history lesson and the blessings of the ‘soon to be’ Council, giving them the opportunity to create their own brand and thrive in Los Santos. 

The Council saw potential and it wouldn’t be wasted, for little did they know that The Council had just paved the way for a small hand picked crew of individuals to create one of the grandest and most notorious criminal organizations to ever hold dominion over the city. In the days that followed, the two sought out a powerful core team, starting with Thraxamillan Reeves and Jonathan Purmineli; who would end up being the founding Underbosses of the new organization. With the rest of the ranks being filled at a steady rate with equally worthy individuals of quality, it was time to set a meet to discuss the future of the organization. 

The meeting took place in the backyard of Grove St. 17, just a few blocks away from previous battle lines along their old enemy’s territory. The meeting itself went on for hours, discussing ways they would separate themselves from the standard ideals of most syndicates and gangs, and after many, many hours of contemplation, the foundation was finally established and set. They had one main plan; to work as more of a democracy and family rather than a hierarchy. It was these sets of ideals that would begin attracting many criminals with and without an organization of their own to fall under the banner of blue. 

With the gang as a whole slowly crumbling in Mexico, the group took advantage of the chaos and managed to form a connection with ‘Zetas Vieja Escuela’, agreeing that they would plug the Los Santos’s group under the condition that they become a branch of Los Zetas in order to strengthen the Cartel’s influence in the US. The agreement made, the Los Santos branch of Los Zetas was born, aiming to bring new opportunities and wealth beyond measure to those who were willing to cast aside the petty restrictions of a false, corrupted law. As the numbers of the organization started to swell even further, so too would the power and money. The future looked bright, and was colored a beautiful shade of blue.

 

 

 

 

The overall plan for Los Zetas is to shape Los Santos into their ideal vision. They want to operate as part of the city, similar to the influence government issued jobs obtain. They want to restructure the criminal underbelly of the city that benefits every criminal organization/family with Los Zetas at the head. They want control, influence and power parallel with all of the leading organizations within the city, legal and illicit. 

Violence is not always the preferred choice but Los Zetas will not hesitate to use deadly force if provoked. Zetas are still growing and improving daily. It’s easy to spot a member of the Los Zetas, all you have to do is look out for blue, both in their attire and their vehicles.

Currently, the organization is recruiting more soldiers to fill it's ranks and putting the infrastructure in place to create the foundation for Los Zetas. They are established in multiple revenue pipelines, ranging from the local drug trade, securing supply routes, organized kidnappings, protection rackets, extortion, assassinations and weapons trafficking - receiving imports directly from their supplier south of the border. If there is a gun you are looking to get your hands on, the Los Zetas have the connections to get it. 

Respect for the criminal veterans of Los Santos is one of the most important rules when it comes to the Zetas, and in recent times with the disbanding of their brothers ‘The Clowns’ The organization pays tribute to their name by keeping their brand alive, as The Clowns were an essential part of Zeta’s creation. If you look closely, you’ll see many affiliates in blue putting on the iconic clown mask and rushing into the heat of battle, paying their respects to brothers and sisters of the past by letting their enemies look upon the visage of an old, and terribly familiar foe. 

In the time before and after the Irish War, the Los Zetas still retain their prominent status as one of the mightiest and most influential forces in the entire city, with several new business ventures forming in both legitimate and illegitimate forms opening several avenues of income. It can be said for absolute certain that out of any myriad of problems that the blue-clothed warriors could have, monetary issues would not be among them. 

The soldiers of Los Zetas are well equipped veterans of their field, and they have gained something arguably more important than just raw talent in recent days, experience. These soldiers have gained experience in large-scale combat, allowing them to traverse any and all battlefields almost instinctively, gunning down any opposition that stands in their way. This is especially evident in the recent wars, with victories being counted rapidly while their losses remain relatively low and near non existent.

While The Zetas may seem chaotic by nature, they are very critical of each other in order to further improve themselves and others around them. Growing stagnant is not something that they will allow to happen. With members coming up with more innovative ways to grow and prosper, which allows them to always move forward finding new ways to garner lucrative methods of cash flow. 

The Zetas have come a long way, with an extensive, rich history of successes and failures, and even since the very beginning while many of the OG members still remain, the newest generations of Zetas have proven themselves to be more than capable of getting the job done regardless of the task at hand and the challenges they bring.

With most of their previous goals completed, the Zetas now have their eyes set on distant, prosperous horizons moving forward:

 

• Opening up more business locations in order to further our expansion in Los Santos
   

 

• Offering protection for legal businesses around Los Santos in hopes to provide a safer city for civilians

 

• Negotiating further fixed prices on businesses such as Gas Stations and Gun stores in order to help balance the economy even further

 

• Reach out to small, street gangs in order to provide more business opportunities to both parties. I.E Protection of turf, weapon sales and providing a middle man in both gun deals and meetings for negotiations between multiple parties. 

 

 

 

Organization is key in Los Zetas. A process, a plan, follow through, rules, regulations, a strategy. Without it, there is no basis or foundation for operation, no goal in place. To this end, the Los Zetas is structured in a way that everyone has a part and a role to play and perform. Everyone has a task, everyone pitches in. Though each has its own individual tasks and responsibilities to perform, every group and role in the gang is connected, valued and has a voice. The Los Zetas functions as a democracy with very specific ranks in place in order to spread responsibilities and burdens evenly throughout the organization, to ensure that the general workflow is kept running smoothly. These tasks are ordered as follows:

“Live Blue, Breathe Blue, Die Blue.”

 

Don
The Don is the head of Los Zetas, delegating tasks to his Underbosses and Confidants, making weighty decisions for the group with the support of his high command, and ensuring the organization is staying worthy of its place in the city and the Council. 

 

Underboss
“When Don isn’t present, the Underboss steps in to lead in his stead. The Underboss is next in line to become Don should something happen to the current head of Los Zetas, and should therefore exemplify the qualities of Don at all times. This includes quick and thoughtful action, proven leadership, and heading meetings in Don’s place.

 

Confidant
Securing information, resolving disputes, creating doubt amongst enemies, and delegating guns and ammunition to the Los Zetas soldiers are among the chief responsibilities of the Confidant. This person shows true unbiased observation amongst disputes within the organization, as well as uses his resources to gather intel and root out weaknesses in enemies during war. His primary role is to advise the entirety of Los Zetas and bring information back to Don. 

 

Lieutenant
Lieutenants are members of the organization that have proven themselves to be competent leaders and are deeply invested in the organization. When no other leadership is around they are expected to take control of situations and ensure that the general members stay in line.

They are also trusted with contacts to our weapon imports and are tasked with keeping the ranks of the Los Zetas armed with heavy weaponry. 

 

Sicario
Similar to the Lieutenant, Sicarios help to lead the soldiers of the organization and teach them the art of war, how to traverse a battlefield, and the way a Los Zetas member should carry themselves. Sicarios are also responsible for disciplinary action, enforcing the laws of the Los Zetas among its members.

 

OG
OG’s have the responsibility of teaching the younger generation of Zetas how to get where they currently are, to pass down their knowledge and teachings of the Los Zetas, and to prepare them for the trials ahead. These members have proven themselves through blood and dedication to the family, and have been recognized for their commitment to the cause.

 

Soldier
No organization can survive without its soldiers, the blade and blood of the organization. They have proven their loyalty to Los Zetas and have been honored with the recognition as family, and have committed to improving both themselves and those around them.

 

Runner
These are the newest members to the organization; they have shown their promising potential and have been invited to join the ranks and keep proving themselves. These members have a lot to show and improve to be recognized into the family.

 

Sub Roles

Recruiter
A Recruiter’s responsibility is making sure Zetas remains a powerful unit by providing us with the best soldiers this city has to offer and keeping up with their progress within the family. They have proven themselves to be intelligent, thorough, and a good judge of potential.

 

Asset Adviser
The Asset Adviser is a renowned businessman with deep pockets and vast entrepreneurial knowledge. This rank serves as someone who is affiliated with Zetas but also the business world. Their responsibility is to turn our dirty money into clean money. They aid in monopolizing the city and maintaining the legal front of our organization in order to ward off police. 

 

 

 

"Only those who went hungry with me and stood by me when I went through a bad time at some point in my life will eat at my table" - Pablo Escobar

Family and loyalty, tenants and bylaws that when laid down as a foundation, become the support and basis for all that is built upon it. This is especially the case when it comes to one of the strongest criminal organizations ever to be seen holding the streets of Los Santos in its iron grip, the ‘Los Zetas’. It is these very same ideals that seems to be the fuel that keeps the fiery heart and soul of the Zetas’s war machine scorching hot and pushing ever onward, claiming victory after victory for the men and women under the blue cloth and banners.

Since the very beginning of the now seemingly ‘legendary’ organization, they’ve recruited members from all walks of life. It didn’t matter to whom you once pledged your allegiance to, or to what end you endured the rugged, painful trial of the merciless streets and the dangers the concrete jungle had to offer. The Los Zetas would accept those and only those who shared a common belief, a unified drive, and an ever growing goal: to unite, to conquer, and to prosper. It was these beliefs and the carefully crafted and constructed infrastructure that, under the present leadership of one Jay Gamble, raised the blue army from nothing to blood drenched riches and allowed them to prosper through even the darkest of times and the most brutal circumstances that the city had to throw at them. Together, the soldiers of the Los Zetas would grow as a family, living for one another and protecting one another by the saying “If you’re with us, then we’re with you, always” a quote that rings true with the introduction of The Council

 

The Council

From an idea to a reality, the council was originally created in order to monopolize Los Santos and completely organize all criminal activity within her blood-soaked, concrete walls. The group consisted of the ‘Shadow Cartel’, the ‘Irish Mob’, the ‘Clowns’, ‘La Familia’, and with Los Zetas being the newest organization to rise in power with the most potential, they were offered a seat amongst the criminal elite as well, a milestone of major proportions in terms of status and identity. During this point in time, tension within the criminal underworld was growing, with several criminal syndicates rising up and making a name for themselves with a similar mindset: they were opposed to the idea of being overseen by rival groups, with each making a grab for a slice of the pie that was the power structure in Los Santos. 

It was this circumstance that gave birth to a major uprising, lead by foes that hated the idea of a controlled criminal monopoly on organized gang operations. During this time, The Zetas were given the same choice as all the others: join The Council or oppose it. Though the decision could be seen as a particularly weighty one, the difficulty of the choice itself was irrelevant, as the Los Zetas were formed with the mindset to do things that were completely outside of the normal, day-to-day expectations for a major crime syndicate. Why fight to keep things the same, when your existence was to change it? The answer to such a question was too simple for Jay Gamble, who met with The Council as soon as his organization was completely formed and ready to begin taking its long, conquering strides across the city. The meeting itself went down with great success, and it was at that moment, surrounded by the biggest and most respected Bosses, Gang Leaders, and criminal entrepreneurs in town, The ‘Los Zetas’ were officially welcomed to the elite circle of organized crime. A new era had begun, and it was awash with the color of blue.

 

Notes:

 

•  Zetas had two choices, join Council or Join the opposition in fighting the Council

 

• Jay Gamble met with the Council after Zetas was created, and they were watched closely by the other founding families, amongst other prospective groups being considered. Zetas were eventually accepted into The Council.

 

• The Council fights their first major war against the LSPD & several gangs aligned with Narcos.

 

• The Council comes out on top of the war, but The Shadow Cartel and La Familia slowly lose their foothold in Los Santos, ultimately fading from a group they once helped found; The Council.

 

• The Council maintains control of the city's criminal underworld despite the loss of two founding families, continuing to rid the city of menacing gangs whom have no regard for civilian life and no true code of conduct.

 

• The Council loses confidence in the Irish Mob with the change of leadership moving away from the old Irish, and being exchanged multiple times, leading to a poor state of affairs between the group.

 

• The Council ultimately decides to move away from the Irish Mob, ultimately removing them from the coalition, leading to several negative encounters further damaging relations between the groups.

 

• The Irish go to war with The Clowns, Los Zetas stands idle as they agree to war 1 on 1; after roughly 24 hours The Wanted interjects in the war, and the Zetas immediately move to aid their long-standing ally against the larger force.

 

• Within 2 days, the majority of the criminal organizations within the city stand behind the Irish and The Wanted and declare war on The Council leaving the two remaining members at a disadvantage number wise.

 

• Once both The Council was in sync, the city would end up seeing the largest and bloodiest war in its history, leaving the streets riddled with bodies and terror on a daily basis. Numbers were not trumped by experience, and we would see several major strikes against these groups, ultimately splitting them up, with the Wanted bowing out of the war after just 48 hours upon entry.

 

• Upon the Wanted exiting the war, each smaller group would systematically fall to The Councils organized and coordinated strikes against them ultimately falling apart, leaving heavy numbers buried in shallow graves scattered across the desert of Blaine County. With victory on the rise for the Council, the Zetas would take over the Irish Mobs long standing head quarters of the Mirror Park Tavern ultimately symbolizing their defeat before the group slowly faded from existence in Los Santos.

 

 

 

† Be a loyal member of the organization. Do not interfere with each other's interests, do not be an informer.

† Be rational. Be a member of the team. Don't engage in battles you can't win. This directive extends to personal life.

† Be a person of honor. Respect the ones who came before you, Acknowledge your enemy before you crush him; Every life is important

† Be a stand-up guy. Keep your eyes and ears open, and your mouth shut. Don't sell out. The stand-up guy shows courage and heart. He does not whine and complain in the face of adversity, including punishment. If you can't pay; don't play.

† Have class, all gangs deserve at least some level of respect. There's no need to be crude for no reason. We are above that.

† Be independent, know your way around the city, help others who may not.

 

 

 

† Attend gang activity regularly, inactivity will result in removal. If you are going to be inactive for a few days, let the higher ups know, so we can keep track of things.

† Any internal conflicts must be handled internally through reasonable means, i.e. mediation or conversation.

† Respect the hierarchy of the ranks. If you feel as if you're being treated unfairly by your peers, speak to the higher ups to ensure the issue is resolved.

† You MUST wear your gang colors at all times unless a situation demands otherwise.

† There is honor among thieves. Do not steal from or disrespect a fellow gang member. We are all family.

† Own your gang at ALL times. If someone asks you "what gang are you from?" Answer with pride.  If you refuse to own up to what gang you're from, you could potentially hurt the gang as a whole along with it's potential and current allies.

 

 

 

Must adhere to all server rules and regulations.
 We are a heavy RP gang.

 

25000 EXPERIENCE MINIMUM FOR RECRUITMENT

 

i want to try and join this gang, i am wondering on where i can find you guys? i have the minimum xp for recruitment and i have read this thread and the rules lots and lots of times

 

[JakeInnit_]

1 hour ago, Illmohim said:

i want to try and join this gang, i am wondering on where i can find you guys? i have the minimum xp for recruitment and i have read this thread and the rules lots and lots of times

You will need to find and speak to a recruiter ICly. 

[Machete]

On 4/25/2020 at 5:06 AM, Chebbidy said:

Day 3 of the West Coast War.

https://streamable.com/6mxk79

Please make more compilations like this.

Edited May 6, 2020 by NM369

[MrUntouchable215]

On 3/13/2020 at 7:56 PM, Copes said:

Jamaar Bovarium - Reborn 

Part 2

God damn, I probably watched this shit like 6 times since you dropped it. Good shit Jamaar. I love how it tells an entire back story from part 1 to part 2, can easily tell what happened without any words involved. GJ man really.

[reeceobz]

WAR TIME

Due to recent actions of WCA, Los Zetas and triads couldn't just stand by and let them be anymore. It would be time for WCA to pay for their actions once again. The night the war was declared was spent getting everyone together and going through the game plan and what we should be expecting from the opposition. 

Shortly after the information was given Zetas, Triads and NLA would pack into 4 doors and hunt for the night unfortunately to find nothing. Where were WCA at? Not long after we began taking grove street hour after hour met with no resistance from WCA. They are still yet to be seen on grove street. Whilst The 3 gangs waited for WCA to appear we decided to take a group photo of the morning crew to let it be known that grove would soon be ours.

Whilst searching around Enrique Gaviria stumbled upon a spray can left on the floor. He approached Reece and began thinking of ideas for tags. Shortly after tagging his side Reece tagged the other making it known that this was not a friendly environment.

#PrayForWCA

[JayGamble]

WAR?
The time had finally come, the ceasefire had ended. We quickly mounted up, and set up a staging ground at a remote location on the eastern end of the state. We discussed planning strategy and equipment as we continued to count down the minutes until we would step foot into Grove Street and test our luck. As they prepared, Jay couldn't help but think about former situations with WCA, and how DeAndre begged for help when they were met with a small unorthodox group, who continued to push them out of their motel regularly. He grinned under his mask, as he gripped his AK tightly, waiting for the group to finish preparations.

It would be a little under an hour before they moved into Grove Street, sending scouts through to figure out what was going on, in what they believed to be a future warzone. It was no surprise it was empty, much like the hearts of our enemy; we would occupy and wait out their arrival. We continued to wait for hours, and hours with little to no show of presence from anyone in green or black.

Eventually they would find some courage after about 11 hours of no incident, it would not go in their favor even slightly. They attempted to flank from the eastern side of grove, walking right into the trap that had been set for hours upon hours, and like flies they would fall one by one. It reminded Jay of how the war was going previously, and how Grove stayed quiet once The Council & Aztecas had adapted to their strategies.





It was a massacre, and after a quick victory they would realize they had the son of Pops, whom they kidnapped and attempted to negotiate a ransom for. They attempted to double cross us over what should have been considered chump change for a life, and ultimately got the majority of their high command captured. We took all of them to a remote location, brutally torturing and killing each one, Enrique going as far as to beat the life out of Pops with his bare fists. No signs of DeAndre or Trey in sight, it seemed they had all but abandoned their men, the same as they did some days ago.

This was simply day one post ceasefire, and with virtually no opposition in sight it would look no different than it did some days ago. Jay had recalled about being told he was on the losing side, and how Green and Black was the new council, and how he himself did not fight. I'm not sure if they say it to themselves for motivation or what, because the reality was this was no longer a war, it was a slaughter.. and green was being served for breakfast, lunch and dinner. It made him wonder, what war?

Edited May 4, 2020 by JayGamble

[LeftSharkie]

The Great Escape

As the war between The Council and West Coast Assassins continued, tension has increased between the two groups and shootouts were occurring left and right. After a specific incident which occurred at the Palmer-Taylor Power Station, the Aztecas leader, Carlos Rodrigueez found himself captured and injured at the hands of the Sheriff's Department. We quickly received information that he was facing some serious time, so a quick decision was made to try and get him out of the law enforcement's custody. This is where the following events took place:

 

As seen in the video, Lexa and James successfully got the Aztecas leader out of the Sheriff Department's custody, the only thing left to do was to treat him without being found by law enforcement again in the process. Carlos was suffering from a gun shot wound which was a gift to him left by the Sheriffs. Lexa did not have any medical supplies on her, which left her with no choice but to use her own mask as a bandage to buy enough time for them to get to the hospital and have Carlos properly treated. 

 

 

Lexa and James then decided it would be best to ask Liam Gunarr, a Los Zetas Lieutenant for help with transporting Carlos to MD. They have taken two crucial steps which made sure the operation was a success. The first is ditching the Hellfire and using another car as a transport for Carlos, and two, having James switch clothes with Carlos so that they do not get spotted once inside the hospital. 

Just as planned, minutes later Liam Gunarr pulled up to the said location in a Novak, and we all headed our way to the Central Hospital of Los Santos. Carlos was properly treated by hospital staff, and we all got to live another day, awaiting our next battle.

[seth]

Recovered body-cam footage from the ongoing war.

 

[alexalex303]

That's some nice editing and shooting right there @seth. Good job. 

[Chebbidy]

Streamable Link:  https://streamable.com/yevjjj

[ladypapercrown]

Wartime Photos

Occupation of Grove Street

After the execution of a WCA member the body is left at the Grove Street cul-de-sac.

Los Zetas vibin' on Grove Street

Sneaky Los Zetas..

Flint sends WCA a dinner invitation.

Los Zetas watch over their HQ

A WCA member is tortured and later executed

 

Edited May 9, 2020 by ladypapercrown

[MissDeeds]

Such good RPers and amazing forum updates, love you guys and girls

[Wolokai142]

Do you know what today is?

 

I clutched my arms tightly around myself, pulling them tightly to my form. A tremble passed through me, my lips only slightly quivering behind the T-shirt wrapped tightly around my head. Behind the goggles pressed around my eyes, tears brimmed and threatened to spill down across my face. It was a moment of weakness...yes, but one I would allow for this particular occasion. I wouldn't call it a 'special occasion', it being more so a horrific, traumatic experience, but it was an occasion none the less. 

 

What was today? The 7th. The 7th of May. 

Many years ago on this day, I lost you.

 

Your name was Caroline Verona. You were 24 years old. You were an agent, like me. Your hair was a dark, stormy sea of brunette and raven. You had this smile...toothy, like your wolf mask, and just as sharp. You had this way of talking that just...entrapped people. I'm not sure what it was, but every time you spoke you commanded the attention of the entire room. The way you stood up for me in front of 'The Enforcers', staring into the bottomless pits that were the eyes of their bull masks, the way you spoke to The Matriarch to ensure I had a future amongst the agency...

How you told me not to worry when we found out I didn't...

Just like how you told me that we were going to get married, and run far, far away together. Away from The Blessings, away from Vice City, away from it all...

But that didn't happen. None of it did. Our dreams never came true, our vows were never spoken. Hell, I still have them written down on a bloody index card in one of my dresser drawers somewhere. 

Why?

Well you died, that's why. You were riddled and shot to pieces, beyond saving by the time I had gotten to you. I remember how my fox mask looked in the reflection of your terrified eyes, the way you pulled it off of me because you wanted to see 'Rhea', and not 'Red' before you made your way to whatever hell had awaited us. God I still remember it all so perfectly, so vividly...the tears that washed away the blood on your face in small lines, or the way your chest labored for breath. I begged, I remember, begged for you to tell me what to do, on how to save you. All you could do was smile...smile and shake your head.

I remember the only direction you gave me, the one request. It was a single word, simple in concept and monstrously impossible all at the same time.

"Live," You said, clutching onto my neck and cheek weakly with the last of your strength. "Live...."

You grew still, your breath silent, and you stared...stared right through me. You died.

Years later and here I was, standing over a grave I claimed for you here in Los Santos. I ensured it was empty of course...falsifying the ledger and the records of the plots to ensure you wouldn't be disturbed when I had your body exhumed and moved. I clutched my arms tighter, sniffed a few times and shook my head, trying to blink the tears away as I adjusted the bag over my back, the AK inside of it rattling slightly. 

This was no time for pain...no time for weakness, or mercy.

This was a time of war, against the West Coast Assassins. And little did I know, the Irony of what was going to happen to me today would be something I would never, ever forget.

As the Matriarch always said:

"Mercy should not be expected."

It was the aftermath of a large shootout against the West Coast Assassin's, a few hours later. We had been summoned to Grove again to join the others holding down the block for about the fourth day in a row. We had occupied the territory for what seemed like ages, enduring attacks in the very early hours of the morning. LSPD, the fucking soulless, mercenary fuckers that they were had been sitting just one or two blocks away, hands gripping the wheels and holsters of their guns and licking their filthy lips in anticipation to get in on the action for themselves. 

A chance to get involved with a gang war? To 'quell a threat to the city', to 'bring peace to the streets'? Who the fuck did they think they were kidding? Even Detective Collona, that bastard animal, had a HOUSE in that culdesac, in the middle of a gang occupied hood which I found all too convenient. I could hear Logan Cross's ghost laughing somewhere. Regardless of their presence, we still managed to maintain the occupation. The WCA had been talking the huge, normal amount of shit I had come to expect from any organization that stood against us, and like the others in the blue bound history books, they always met the same fate. 

The fighting to an outsider could've been called 'chaotic', 'horrific', 'monstrous'. Yeah, I suppose they'd be right to a degree.

But to people like us, the ones fighting outside of society's boundaries and rules, or the corrupt penal code, it was different. To call us killers and murderers is fair, but to do so you'd have to have no qualms about calling the cops the same. You really think Philipe Sanchez doesn't smile when he runs down people in his cruiser everyday? But the cops, just like the WCA, were all fucking clueless, all fucking mouthy and stubborn and so absolutely blinded by delusions of heroism and toxic pride. They didn't know our history, didn't care. Maybe if they had taken a look at the chapters of our history they'd understand why they keep losing. 

It didn't make sense to me, it really didn't. Hours after the fighting had settled and we had run from 'The Grove', running out from the closing noose of the LSPD, we returned to occupy the neighborhood. That battle was devastating for the WCA, as had all the others with the exception of one or two in the early stages of the war. But that's what I expected from every major engagement.

It was a pattern as much as it was a way of life. In the beginning of every engagement, the fighting was rough, dirty, chaotic. You had to learn the strengths and weaknesses of your enemy, understand how they moved, how they breathed, how they fought. After that, after you saw it one or two times...it was over. We adapted rapidly, we countered, we overcame. And in a week's time or less our enemies disappeared. Whether they dropped colors, fled the city or went into the ground it didn't matter...the end result was always the same.

That's what I didn't understand...this is what didn't make sense to me.

Before my time here...it was the Narcos, Vice Lords and such. After I came through that airport for the first time, fleeing The Blessings in Vice City it was The Irish, Rebels, Russians, and The Rooks. All of them, gone. Why didn't these people take a hint? All of them, standing up against us, talking shit, puffing their chests and spouting off nothing but open-ended bullshit with no backbone and no follow up. Are you deadass? Have you not SEEN, the bloodbath that we've left in our wake?! And it's not like we're being blinded by pride, but rather the fact that we've earned our right to have it, and to show it. We're still here, we're still fighting. WCA? They'll join the history books as the people who like the others, share the same legacy. A legacy of hollow words after running to the police, crying and begging for help and losing hundreds when we lose barely a handful.

What a fucking joke.

I pulled my AK from my bag, checked the chamber and posted up in my position. I could've been cringe and called it a 'fox-hole' but I don't think I'd have ever heard the end of it. My out-of-pocket ass would say some shit like that. I was responsible for watching the east side of the block, at the yards beyond the neighborhood to watch for an advance from Jamestown. They had attacked from there the last two times, last night being no exception. 

They lost, as they done time and time again. At this point we were entering what was called the 'twilight hours' of the war. We could feel it in the air, and see it in the numbers. The Dojin, WCA's allies in this conflict, had all but been exterminated at this point, and most of WCA's high command were already buried. They were all on their last legs but as with the gangs of the past, their stubbornness was turning this into a war of attrition that we were no strangers in knowing how to fight and manage. We were tired, but the thrill of extermination was something that always kept the adrenaline pumping. At this point I expected the large scale fighting to dwindle to a point where there was no longer any organization, that they would just group up and throw themselves at us.

But we still had Jay Gamble, Bruce Wong, Carlos Rodriguez, and the rest of our Command Element.

This war was over. This? This was just a mop-up, a slaughter, and a hunt. A hunt for the rest of them. 

One by one we'd find them.

One by one we'd hurt them.

One by one we'd destroy them.

 

And in the end, just like it's always been, like it always will be, they will disappear.

And we, we will remain.

 

But remember when I said that what would happen to me today would be considered a bit of Irony? It was the end of the day, after a long, bitter struggle of hunting the last of the Dojin and WCA that lurked about in the city. I stumbled into my house, huffing softly and out of breath. My clothes were torn, soaked in blood and reeked of gunpowder. I shakily made my way to the bathroom, dropping the bag and pulling away the goggles and t-shirt on my face, the rest of my clothes being tossed to the floor in a trail to the door.

I stood in front of my kitchen sink, staring at myself. The red face, the tear-streaked skin that had cleaned away the dirt splattered on my face. I stared into my eyes, looking. I don't know what I was looking for really, in those dumb, moronic silvery eyes. They were dilated, the rush of adrenaline having yet to leave my body, the monstrous stream of voices roaring through my head. 

I slowly pushed my fingers into my hair, gripping at my scalp as my face scrunched up in pain. A noise escaped my throat, somewhere between a cry and a gurgled whine of pain. It was too much...always too much. I don't know why the fuck I ever expected things to be different...why I thought I could be different. 

And yet...I always tried to live. To be different. To try and be normal because of you. Because of you Caroline, I tried to live and to be a decent person...by cartel standards anyway...

And fuck...I hate you for it. I hate you so god damn much for it. At times, in my weakest moments, I even wish that you had never said anything the night you died. That I could've just held you, and you cling to me...the two of us just holding onto the hope that maybe, by some miracle that things would be different, that we would get this magical chance to go back in time and erase all the horrors we faced together, and replace them with happier, more sunny days.

But no...you told me to live, and you died. That wasn't a request...that was a curse. You cursed me to exist, to breathe, to live. And when I eventually see you again, I'ma slap the shit out of you for it.

I had an anxiety attack earlier, before I had gotten home. It was during one of the hunts, chasing down one of the WCA. I was flying through Sandy Shores with the pack when my heart seized in my chest. A series of flashes crossed my eyes and I saw it all before me so vividly, like I was there again. I was on the beach, days before the Irish War sitting on my knees before Dardan Mayor. His gun pressed against my head, his question of "Any last words?" ringing in my ears. The slicing of my flesh and the screams that echoed across the ocean when Jimmy Walsh maimed me. The time I had overdosed on Meth, trying to fly away from all the pain...only to nearly fly away from my own life. And the fact that Logan Cross tried to murder me that night, and his SWAT team just watched...how my hatred for the LSPD finally gained a solid form of justification. And again...a vision flashed with the scene of you curled into my arms, blood in rivers around us, my fox mask soaked in it just near us.

My foot came off the gas and I looked around frantically, gasping for air. I swerved out of control, Jay's voice roaring into my ear as his car nearly flew into the back of mine. My wheel flew to the right, and I crashed into a street sign, kicking up dirt and debris. "Who the fuck was that?!" Jay hollered, his voice barely audible over the ringing in my own ears as I cut away the air bag and stumbled out of the Rebla. I huffed softly, looking around as blurs of Triad Red and Zeta Blue flew by. I turned my head slowly, swallowing dry sand and air down my gullet and heaved "Ricky...wait up for me" as I caught sight of his vehicle slowing down nearby.

"Was that you Red?!" He asked. "You're an idiot," he declared "You are a FUCKING, IDIOT."

I stumbled towards Ricky's car, slowly at first, and then faster, picking up my feet and willing my legs to move me. 

Idiot.

The word clung to me. It fueled my anxiety and my pain. It carried me to Ricky's car, and into his passenger seat. I think he asked me if I was alright, but I couldn't be sure. Maybe I was asking myself that, but I wasn't sure of that either. Maybe, but in the end I don't think it even really mattered, or that I really cared. How would I explain it to him if he asked? How could I respond? He didn't know, and I couldn't tell him.

There was no room for weakness. Mercy should not be expected. 

We finished the hunt, Ricky took me back to my car, and I went home without a word. The fighting was over for the day, and I needed a rest...I needed to be away. So I went inside, stumbled to my bathroom, and looked at myself.

Idiot.

He was right. He was always right. He had always been right. Flint had told me Jay saw me in a positive light, that I was amongst his most loyal members. I told him that I wish they didn't talk about me...that they'd focus on more important things, more worthwhile topics.

I didn't want to be seen, or noticed. Anytime I was noticed it was always for some way that I had fucked up, or done something wrong, and I didn't want to be known for that. All I wanted, was to show Jay that my loyalty was unshakable, unquestionable, and ever lasting. Contradictory I know...not wanting to be seen but to know my loyalty would always be his. I breathed Zetas. I fought the wars, I did my part, and I persisted through the mockery and the mayhem of it all. I bled blue, I preached blue, and I would continue to do so until my dying breath. I would keep my head down, silent, obedient, and carry out the will of the hierarchy without question.

And that was where the Irony kicked in. My eyes settled, fluttering for a moment as I gripped the sides of the sink and looked as deeply into my own dead irises as I could. 

All this pain...all this misery I carried in my life? It was because of my promise to you. My promise to live. I had pretended...so long to be alive, that I completely forgotten everything else. I had let that promise overshadow everything in my past. All of my failures, all of the torture I endured both physical and mental in Vice City, and to all the trauma I've experienced here in Los Santos. 

And that was it...that was the epiphany. I had spent so long trying to live, but in reality? I was already dead.

The more I thought about it, the more comfortable the thought of it was. Maybe that was why I tried killing myself before the Irish War kicked off.

I was dead. I was killed in Vice City, I was killed the night you died. I had been dead ever since...and everything past that, was just a lie to myself, a lie to try and keep my spirits up and my heart beating with laughter, with compassion. 

I wanted to talk to CRU, I wanted to talk to DOC's CMT, I wanted to get help, to try and get to some level of normalcy but...it was pointless. I had spent so much time trying so hard to hold onto and save a sinking ship, to steer myself away but...I couldn't anymore. 

And I would waste no more energy on it.

My radio crackled from its place on the floor, and slowly I reached down and picked it up, placing it in my ear. We were being called back to Grove. The hunt was over and the occupation was happening again. I slowly moved my eyes back to my reflection, to the dead woman looking back at me. I took a hollow, shuddering breath, swallowed the emptiness in my throat, and moved.

I moved with an energy, with a purpose, my thoughts cloudy and scrambled. I picked up my clothes, threw them back on, pulled the T-shirt back around my head and donned the goggles. I stopped as my hand touched the door handle, taking a moment to collect my thoughts and quiet my mind. I had to remind myself that there was no more room for emotion, there was no more room for anything.

Rhea Moraine was dead. She had always been dead, dead since that night.

There was only Red now. And besides hurting other people, there was something else that would come to be known of her, and realized by her enemies:

 

"Mercy should not be expected."

Edited May 9, 2020 by Wolokai142

[Copes]

 The Need For Speed

The topic of Los Zeta hosted events had been a rising discussion among the organization. Following a brief
conversation with the Don himself, the idea of bringing back the once prominent underground racing culture
that once flourished through Los Santos during Jamaar's previous ventures was deemed an interest. Jamaar
immediately made contact with Thaddeus and Mojo, individuals who have played a role in the successful
aforementioned business ventures in the past. It was decided they would meet up at the observatory to
discuss details of the event. From there the plan was set in stone. A racing tournament was to be held 
on Sunday May 17th at The Wanted Reup. Keeping under the radar had always been a tedious task with 
these events. The hosts deemed it necessary to kickstart these events by only involving other 
friendly gangs and renown racers in the city. 

Further down the week a Los Zetas meeting had been called to discuss various topics and promote a handful
of members. To his surprise, Jamaar was then called up to the mic and received a promotion to Advisor. 
Following his speech the mic became open to ideas and suggestions where multiple members then spoke 
their mind. This included Jamaar and Mojo who had informed them all of the tournament set for the 
following day. It was well received and the sheer amount of members interested in this racing event 
filled the ex Wanted members present in the room with a feeling of euphoria. 

The day had come and all walks of life began entering the venue, some participating, some spectating. 
The word had most definitely gotten out. Once the crowd appeared big enough, Jamaar began collecting the 
entry fee of those entering the tournament and Mojo got to work on creating the bracket. The bracket was
made to pair vehicles in order to create more even, skill based races. With over 20 participants it was 
time to burn some rubber.

Rules were told to each racer and the first bracket had begun. It went smoothly and the crowd was wild.
The vehicles came zooming past the finish line. The first bracket was then completed. Those who qualified
were then notified and moved up to compete in the second bracket. The names of those starting off the 
second bracket were called and they made their way to the starting line. Jamaar did the same, he raised
his arms and gave them a start time. Tires began screaming on the pavement, smoke rising into the 
sky. Then the inevitable happened. Sheriffs began pulling up to the crowd...

The crowd quickly moved into the parking lot of our designated private property. The Sheriffs decided to 
attempt a shut down of the gathering but the property owner made an appearance to clear up any concerns. 
With their egos hurt, the Sheriffs present at the scene attempted a petty arrest of the masked up property
manager. This was met with outrage and while Jamaar did his best to de-escalate the situation the Sheriffs
couldn't be reasoned with. With that being said, they were dealt with appropriately by the various gang
members on scene. The Sheriffs were placed at gunpoint and the property manager was escorted away while
everyone fled before additional units and SWAT arrived. The Sheriffs targeted Jamaar leaving the scene seeing
as he was the host but couldn't charge him with anything due to him playing his cards correctly. 

After Jamaar was let go he contacted Mojo via radio commmuncation and set a track to relocate to. The new 
location was sent off to those present at the previous venue. During the down time Jamaar discussed the 
idea of bi-weekly racing events with a long time friend, both very enthusiastic and in agreeance. Those 
who had not been eliminated drifted one by one into the parking lot ready to compete and the tournament 
continued.

The talented participants battled it out race after race until it came down to the final bracket. Two
racers head to head competing for the grand prize of $50 000. While it was a close race, Los Zetas own 
Jonas Eriksen came out on top and Frank Gorino secured the runner-up position. The crowd cheered as the
two racers exited their vehicles and were given their prizes. Jamaar reached into his bag, taking out
$50 000 for Jonas and $25 000 for Frank. The sun had set and the action packed day full of surprises had 
ended in a success.

[Vinny Loreti]

that's flipping cringe bro

[reeceobz]

27 minutes ago, Vinny Loreti said:

that's flipping cringe bro

Damn bro you do be kinda salty doe 

[RAttlesnake7473]

34 minutes ago, Vinny Loreti said:

that's flipping cringe bro

Confused as to why you said that

[moment]

@Copes Good story and effort taken as usual Jamaar, impressive. The time you put in your videos and stories, pure.

Edited May 18, 2020 by PhenomenalX

[WindEZ]

Good post homie love it ! 

[Draugas]

Keep up with the good work lads!

[Zyzla]

It's time for a hike!

As life goes on, sometimes the time comes where you have to be on your tip toes day after day. It might get exhausting and stressful, but at the end it‘s usually worth it. You can‘t say standing for your family is ever going to be not worth it regardless of the way it goes. 

 

As the recent events with WCA calmed down and people got some rest after patrolling Grove street 24/7, it was time to look around and take some time for themselves.

Everything around town seemed to be calm and chill. As life came back to regular old pace Kelly thought why not to get to know the people we were fighting side by side even better. Kelly brought up the idea of going on a hiking trip to Alicia back in the day during the war and one day Alicia walked to her and asked “When are we doing it?” Kelly shrugged and said “It needs a bit of a planning” but Alicia‘s question pushed her to stop just thinking about it and finally just make it happen.

After a quick talk with a few people from each group they agreed it was a good idea to do that. Everyone from the Triads, Aztecas and Los Zetas were invited to come over to meet up at Mount Gordo and spend some time with each other. As we met up we chilled a bit on the bottom of mountain as we decided it time to go on a hike towards the lake North of it. As everyone gathered together we finally headed out for the hike.

Walking isn’t easy as it seems when we‘re talking about climbing up the steep mountain, so we took a few stops to enjoy sunset and get some rest.

As we reached the destination lots of us enjoyed the fresh source of water to cool down after quite a bit of a walk, others chilled by the lake dancing, swimming and discussing various topics or just snacking or sipping on drinks.

 

Day was going by as we could see the sun start hiding behind the hills so we decided it‘s time to get back where we started.

After that we took a road back and ended up enjoying ourselves next to campfire just chatting and chilling in the bright moonlight.

Everyone needs to stop sometimes and look around to see what they’ve got right next to them.  Giving others reward and enjoyment is not hard, even if it‘s for the small things people do daily for each other. When you put effort into things, it’s always delightful to get something back for it, even if it‘s a small amount of quality time to spend together.

[Ourballs]

Edited June 16, 2020 by Ourballs

[HaminLord]

Just going to leave this here, a picture I helped Zetas take for its first version of its faction thread on its 1st or 2nd day on the server, it was taken on the 21st of September, 2018.
I think it goes without a say that this has been one of the most successful factions on the server, and I've nothing but respect for everyone who was both a member and a higher-up in this group.

From being just a member of another friendly group back in the day, then one Zetas' faction management handler during my time as Senior Support, and even a trial for a few days I've nothing but appreciation for everything they've done.
Sad to see you lot go.

[alexalex303]

Now that Hamin kinda posted and confirmed the rumors, I'd like to go ahead and say that regardless of your personal feelings towards them, there is no denying that Zetas were the most successful gang in the server for a very long time, and it's going to be interesting how the server is going to be without them; I reckon, it's going to be worse off, but this is also a great opportunity for other upcoming gangs to maybe try and fill the void.

I know personally that this usually has a very negative impact on it's individual members, but instead of feeling sad that it ended, try to feel happy that you were apart of it, and look forward to new opportunities.

 

[Xypint]

Oof, Surely will be missed.