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West Coast Assassins

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At the request of the Faction Management team and numerous community members, I have decided to summarize our history since coming into town, and the notable events from screenshots and other media. I will try my best to remain factual and lean less on fantasy compared to certain other organizations. As with all posts in the OOC section of the forums, none of the contents should be taken In-Character.


The city of Los Santos is home to a wide range of organizations, criminal and otherwise. The most notable ones being the members of the alliance dubbed "The Council", which was formed by the two largest and most organized criminal syndicates in town: Los Zetas and The Triads. 

Los Zetas are the oldest criminal organization still active in town by far, and they have been through a large number of wars and law reforms, they weathered a lot of storms, and it made them into the strongest group in town.

Triads are relatively new compared to Zetas, however they should not be under-estimated based on age. They are a highly effective group of individuals that do not hesitate to strike, in large numbers, and with specialized equipment, against both law enforcement and criminals alike.

Wanted are a relatively large racing crew that more than occasionally engages in arms dealing and the operation of chop shops. They will out-drive you, and kill you, should you provoke them. They are otherwise relatively friendly towards most individuals.

Rooks are the newest of the large organizations. They are a re-brand of the old Irish Mob and Los Calaveras; they have grown into their own identity, which has so far strayed far away from the mistakes of the organizations that they outlived.

Russian Mafia are a small to medium organization that prides itself on their bright white vehicles, and bright white suits, which contrast with their black skull masks. 

Outcast are a small organization with seemingly no leadership capable of conducting diplomacy or otherwise lead their conscripts. 


DeAndre, Trey and Marlo settle in the new city, and before long they learn a great deal about the underground world. They decide that the most prudent course of action would be to approach The Council themselves, rather than wait and get approached. After a short amount of time asking at a particular store, Jay Gamble's number was obtained, and a meeting was set.


Depending on who you asked on the street, Jay could be described as reasonable, unreasonable and everything in between. However, when they met, Mr. Gamble was nothing but polite, and seemed to be genuinely interested in WCA's well-being. He explained that all criminal organizations that operate within the city must pay a tax to the council, to cover for lost income as a result of their non-aggression and to disincentivize mindless recruiting. They said that tax will not be collected until the new gang settles into their own. They also put us in contact with the leadership of the Triads.


They met up with a man that goes by "Ace", he also unironically refers to himself as "Big Ace" but has so far convinced no one to call him that. To celebrate the start of a good relationship with at least half of the council, the group decided to visit the inauguration of a strip club in Paleto Bay. As a result of club policy, no weapons were permitted inside, and bodyguards would search everyone that goes inside. The group placed all of their guns in a gang vehicle, and went inside together. 


As they walked outside, they caught a man wearing yellow clothing attempting to steal their weapons out of the vehicle. He was promptly held at gunpoint by Ace, who stashed his pistol in his own car, and he was brought to a nearby alleyway, where we attempted to give him a haircut as punishment for the attempted stealing, he resisted, and was shot.


The Outcast was put on the hit-list, and they began to get hit, everywhere.



We then used our momentum to recruit several rather quality members, and placed our claim in Grove Street.


DeAndre received a text from a man named "Artyom", who claimed to represent the Russian Mafia, and asked for a meet. Unfortunately the meeting was attacked by still unknown perpetrators, suspected to be the goal-challenged "Daniels gang". Most of the people involved were sent to the hospital.




The Gang met up with the Triad High Command and the council seemed to be united in understanding and attitude. Bruce was positive beyond expectation, and it felt like we were speaking as equals, even though they could crush us at any time they chose to. We embarked on the long journey with a positive step, and with communication channels wide-open. 


We decided to take advantage of the glorious momentum and start approaching drug labs in the hope of finding outcast, unmet groups or random drug makers. At this particular site we managed to apprehend the latter, and they were promptly relieved of their valuables.


Not wanting to relieve any pressure off the Outcast, a yellow Phoenix was pursued with great ferocity all throughout the city, until he finally surrendered and was similarly relieved of his belongings by their group.


The good relations with the council and regular incursions into drug laboratories and chop shops created somewhat of a buzz around the group, and numerous prospects approached the gang for membership. Only the best of the bunch were allowed to enter on a trial basis, and the growth had really kicked off.


It was in this state of affairs that the group found itself pitted against law enforcement for the first time. Cops were pacified, but not before losses were incurred, and emergency treatment was required for at least half of the participants.


The Tavern posted advertisements about a party, and knowing the ownership of the club, and the likely attendees, the leadership believed this to be a great opportunity for both strengthening of relationships, and entertainment, at the same time.


The amenities were pleasing as well.


As the aforementioned buzz continued to carry the gang's name throughout the city, The Wanted became aware of the organization, and a meeting took place in Stab City. The leader of the Wanted Jamaar was much more brief in his welcome to the city, but it was none-the-less positive.


Similar to how the Council taxes non-council organizations, the Rooks tax other organizations. Following a high command vote however, they decided that WCA would be exempt from the Rooks' taxation in perpetuity, regardless of numbers. The forbearance was due to our group's policy of quality over quantity, that would likely produce a worthy ally to the Rooks'.




As the organization grew and set quite strong roots in its corner of the city, the council convened and asked for their dues, which were promptly given. The terms were in line with the previous attitude from the council: very kind towards the still new organization.


War broke out between the Council and the Russian Mafia. WCA proclaimed from the very beginning that they would not make a move against the council, not now, not ever. However, the Russian leadership was persistent to the point of pestering, and we decided to send them a message. We met with the triads and planned a setup.


A meeting was set with the Russian Mafia leadership, and the Triads were informed, and they informed Zetas. The combined might of the council was about to rain down on the Russian Mafia.


However, the Russian showing was anemic and Jay took great personal pleasure in pointing that out to the beleaguered Artyom. It wasn't long before Russian members called the police in an attempt to outsmart the council, however, there was no amount of law enforcement that could tame the beast that awake in them.


Jay spoke down to Artyom, and told him bluntly: "No one will stand with you, only failed gangs. Your only ally is the police, and we're about to show you that they can't protect you either.". Shortly afterwards, the streets around Benny's Motorworks were red with law enforcement blood, and the message was clear: No one will be able to help the Russians.


 The following day, law enforcement overplayed their hand once more, and found themselves massacred by the combined forces of the Council, Rooks and WCA at the golf course. It seemed clear as day that police will not be a reliable ally to the Russians, no matter how many times they called upon them.


As the war continued, the streets continued to talk about the organization, and it's new home in Vespucci, which prompted new interest, and the fitting joined the ranks.


Outcast remained unorganized and their standing untenable. It seems that what was left of their leadership completely left town.


During the meeting of a possible new addition to the gang, the Russian Mafia decided to overplay their gang and attacked a cluster of our members. Some losses were sustained, however the entire Russian contingent was wiped out.


The group regularly partakes in joint efforts to stop the fleeing Russians, everyone in the city, with all of the friends of the council, and the council themselves.


Very little seems to stand in the way of a promising future for the new group, as they bought up apartments in Vespucci, and achieved a long-term goal by purchasing a nearby club.



Tax collection day was coming to a close, there was a heavy rain, but we did not want to miss it, so we went ahead and scheduled a meeting with Jay.


Supplementing the obvious goal of making good on our dues, the meeting proved a good time to discuss the latest events that happened in the city, and our plans for the future.


Trey and Andre were providing support for a member chopping a car, when Andre noticed that someone else was chopping a vehicle belonging to the Rooks. The suspected perpetrators were shortly stopped and questioned.


It was during a party at the tavern that two men wearing green decided to test our resolve, and challenge us to prove that we do in fact own the color. 


Neither of them posed any threat, however their friend, Chanty started screaming that her boyfriend is in the council and this will surely be our demise. 


After some investigation, we found that her boyfriend is a relatively low-ranking member of the Rooks, and we received the green light to take care of her. Andre specifically told her that she's gonna get a haircut, to which she scoffed and kept threatening her boyfriend's wrath.


She then turned to law enforcement to protect her; Singling out Andre as supposedly having heavy weapons on him. 


Desperate and with little options left, she got on a drag and ran to the Wanted Refresh, trying to seek asylum with them. She wasn't to find any safe haven from us.


She sought the protection of her boyfriend, law enforcement and even from other gangs. In the end, nothing could save her from the promised haircut.


Humiliated and defeated, Andre gave her the mercy of a relatively quick death, as she was stabbed repeatedly.


Catching the Wanted just as they were about to race, Andre thanked them for their cooperation in dealing with the overconfident snitch. 


Late into the evening, delayed by the original snitch, they get delayed by yet another snitch. The man pulled up in a red truck and called the cops on them.


Unsurprisingly, he turned out to be a well known snitch and the Rooks gave us a hand with disabling the large truck. The kill was all Andre's though, as he got quite an appetite for snitches.


Two snitches dealt with, the doubly delayed meeting finally took place, and friendly relations were established with the newly formed Yakuza.


As the day drew to a close, we paid our dues to the other half of the council, and spent a good amount of time discussing the events of the day, including copious amounts of laughter about Chanty, as she seems to be well known in town as a loudmouth.



Met with Rooks to discuss a recent assassination and the upcoming party. Cruisers started circling the area around the motel.


In light of the selective law enforcement from the LSPD, we moved the meeting to the club, where we'd at least be away from preying eyes.


Pursuing the long-standing goal of opening a club, I met with an EMT that could provide us with female entertainers for the grand opening.


Payment was due once more, and ahead of schedule it was handed off to the collector.


Ended the day with a good time on the roof of a friendly party where we spent a good amount of time discussing the futility of Russian resistance.


Grand opening was here, as were the dancers, and slowly but surely people started pouring into the establishment.


Unfortunately, so did law enforcement in their new pursuit of antagonizing every major organization for petty reasons. In this specific instance, after spending half an hour giving illegal parking tickets outside, a contingent of officers claimed that someone had weapons in the club. After being searched, no weapons were found on their persons.


Regardless of police harassment, the night ended up being a success, and most of the attendees left satisfied.


Behind closed doors, the tired workers enjoyed some of the entertainment as well.


Receiving a text from the Rooks, we mobilized in a convoy and came upon Sandy Shores, where a Russian force was cowering.


They were found in Russian Paradise, with their law enforcement allies by their side. 


However, not law enforcement nor cameras can save them.



The gang rendezvoused at the hood prior to the meeting, and loaded up in a conservative number of vehicles.


The weather was not as light as our prospects, but the meeting continued undeterred, and everyone (re)introduced themselves to their friends from the other side.


High command walked over the side, away from prying ears, and we discussed our future in the town, especially in light of our recent growth.


We then met with the blue half of the council to confirm our intentions, and ended the day on a good note.


On the following day, we met at the hood, armed up, we loaded up and went out to meet the remnants of Yakuza.


Kihara was clearly desolate, with no one standing by his side apart from a well known snitch. The choice was clear, step up in the war, or die. Kihara, fearing for his life, agreed to the terms.


It turns out that the Yakuza couldn't step up, and decided to fall on their sword by their own hand rather than be taken out. Los Santos isn't for the weak.


The night ended with an attempted ambush by Russians dressed as Zetas. They got our frequency and called for help, and when we arrived, a man wearing blue offered to help take us to our friend in need. He took us to a ditch, and he got out with a gun. Suddenly other people wearing blue attacked. They proved to be little more than food for our experienced hitters.


As we were perusing the selection of vehicles at high-end we spot a couple of our friends from across the Black Sea and promptly relieved them of their belongings.


We then went up north and sat on the chopshop for a couple of hours, awaiting any Russians looking to make a quick buck. 


We received word of a Vallor attack at North Lab, but by the time we pulled up, he was already dead, and his accomplice fled upon seeing our numbers.


We did manage to find one of them when the chopshop moved. Alone and armed with only a pistol, he wasn't a match for us.


As night was drawing near, we had a quick exchange of information with the Rooks, and departed up north once more.


Another week had went by, and as such, the regular payment to Zetas had to be delivered, in person. Andre took the opportunity to discuss the current state of affairs in the city, and plans for the future.


The group then stumbled upon a semi-large Triads gathering in their hood, and decided to join in their silent protest. LSPD made several attempts to dislodge and intimidate the group, but they were all fruitless.


As rain fell harshly, they grouped up at the motel, and loaded up to meet the other half of the council for their payment.


Just like with their counterpart, the meeting proved to be a great time to catch up on recent events, and discuss actions to be taken in the future.


Shortly after the meeting, a group of suspected Russians were spotted in a convoy up north, and when they tried to execute an ambush at the airfield chop, they were mowed down.


To put an end to the fruitful day, the organization met with part of the Wanted that were chilling at the Refresh and exchanged names.


We got engaged in a chase and bait with a Russian squad that we refused to give fight to until we had equal numbers, and then they refused to give us fight.


They finally decided upon a motel ambush, in which Andre was injured, but saved by EMTs.


There was no first-aid for the Russian's injuries though.



Driving by Chumash we came by a BF400 all white that refused to stop previously and chased him all the way to High-end, where he was finally placed at gunpoint and relieved of his personal effects while a wanted pre-prospect named Helsinki started recording and protesting his robbery.


We ended the day with a group meeting behind closed doors at the club, in which we reviewed this day's events and how we can do better next time.



It was then time to meet a group that we were officially at war with, to discuss their desire for peace. Not knowing what to expect, we came in force.



The NLA showing was puny and submissive. Salvadore made a big deal out of not giving out his name, and yet one of our goons knew it by heart. We laid out our terms for peace, specifically the instant and permanent disappearance of a man that loves his chino very much: Chico.


We made our grievances known to Jamaar, who promised to look into them, and then departed with great haste when a cop pulled into the gas station.



We met with the other half of the council for the weekly payment, and we received news of the upcoming conflict with the racing crew known as Wanted.


Having been threatened by a buster in front of Jamaar yesterday, and with his utter and complete failure to act upon that, we decided to join into the war, against the racing crew.


Tradition in Los Santos says that gangs at war wear a uniform, we never put on one until now because the wack-a-mole conflict with Russians couldn't really be considered a war.


Speaking of Russian wack-a-mole, the racing crew quickly found Russian tactics to be adequate for them, and started employing them.



Ariana and Thadeus were spotted at Parking Lot, and promptly placed on their knees, at which point Andre noticed Ariana's bright pink hair, just perfect for cutting. A cruiser drives past, and Ariana exclaims: "Look's like I get to keep my hair."


She didn't keep it for long. WCA always makes good on their promises. 



The Wanted bank-encamped propaganda machine is in full force with their baseless conjuncture that does not and can not be backed up. The fault for the Wanted v. WCA conflict rests entirely at Jamaar's feet. Prior to the last amicable meeting between us, a Wanted "pre-prospect" was robbed by a bunch of WCA while his friend, a Wanted prospect named Helsinki watched it happen. A day prior to that, members of the Wanted showed up to a shootout, and without firing a single bullet, started looting bodies. Dre was contacted and he identified about four people based on their vehicles. The night of the meeting, Andre made his grievances regarding the jackal-like looting from his members known, and told Jamaar to contact Dre about the names. We showed up at the meeting, and Jamaar stated that the looting shouldn't of happened, and asked who was involved; He was told that he was already informed that Dre has the names, and then he rebutted, "Oh, let's talk about this pre-prospect thing". Talks started, and then he invited the Prospect witness, Helsinki to join the conversation, who ended up making not one, but five tacit threats towards WCA, while Jamaar was standing there impotently. People from downstairs were able to overhear the conversation and were getting unruly. Fortunately for Wanted, a cop pulled into the Re-up and everyone dispersed.


WCA made their grievances known to the council, and a day after, the council decided that they wanted to go to war with Wanted. All the way from the meeting, to this point, Jamaar made no attempt to contact WCA and inform them that the jackals were dealt with, nor offer any apologies about Helsinki's loud mouth. It was then decided that we would join the war. Jamaar's leadership is an impotent concoction of promises and very little action to back those promises up. He allowed a prospect to speak for his entire gang, and now it was time to see if they could back it up, on the street.



Pulling up on Catfish Road, one of us informed the rest that apparently there's a new organization in town, and we made first contact with them. They call themselves the Vory.



It was then time for the weekly meeting with the council, and Zetas were the first stop. War considerations were discussed, and we parted ways with a renewed promise of mutual assistance. 


Bruce and the rest of the Triads were met outside of Los Santos, and similar war talks were had, before departing on a good note.



It wasn't long before we had Oksana and Vahan on their knees. Oksana was especially loud-mouthed.


Andre decided to teach her a lesson.





Face smeared with snow and blonde hair, the woman was still belligerent, therefore, Andre decided to put her out of her misery.


The group then stumbled upon another unfortunate victim, and she was quickly placed at gunpoint.


She found herself on her knees, in the cold snow, just as the stolen Wanted vehicles were driving by, to get chopped by WCA. We can only imagine her initial feeling of relief as she thought backup was coming, only to see it's just more doom.


She lost her weapons, car, hair, hope, and dignity. All in one interaction. 


The mexicans got our message loud and clear, and after a short stay in the hospital, they finally made good on their word. Neutrality would be had once more.



Just before the meeting with the Ballas, one of our members had been asking one too many questions, and when questioned himself, he admitted that he was working with the police. He never walked out of the alley.



We then had a small meeting about the missing member, and what working with police means while you're wearing green, and then departed to meet the purples.



As we arrived early, we scoped out the old hood to find it in not so good shape.



First contact was made, numbers were exchanged, as were tacit threats as the Ballas were quite possessive of the grove st and were ready to act on their desire, should we have claimed the same area.


As what's left of the Wanted drift out of the city, WCA members meet up with the Triads to discuss the war efforts and continuation. It's well understood by everyone that Wanted is now functionally dead.



A WCA contingent attended the wedding of Triads leader Bruce Wong, on their private island.




Met with Jay Gamble to discuss the latest state of affairs in the city, and came upon an interesting resolution.


In the hills of Vinewood, we descended upon the house of Jamal and announced our plans, and resolved to work together.


As the rumors of the black warehouse continue to circle around Los Santos, Dimitri was the target of several questions during our first meeting in a relatively long time.



Night descended upon the city, and so did the WCA-Vory hunting party. Unlike our opponents, automatic weapons are a regular sight in green hands.


NLA attempted an ambush at the dam, but armed with pistols and shaky hands, they all fell to the combined forces of Vory and WCA.



Arriving at the meeting location, we were greeted by Triads HC and we discussed the on-going war against NLA and company before moving forward to the usual dealings.


We set a rendezvous with Vory and embarked on a trans-gang hunting operation.


Night fell over a large confrontation as a contingent of WCA was checked by three different groups. The assassins quickly dispatched of every enemy that faced them until they went through all of their rifle ammo. As the heavies went dry, NLA weaponized their Futos and achieved their pyrrhic victory.

-- To be continued as events unfold in-game --

Edited by alexalex303
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