Omerta Guardians > Media Archive

[Sharlock]

Activity & Number: Store Robbery & 332
Date:  27/03/2025
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Activity & Number: Store Robbery & 333
Date:  27/03/2025
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Activity & Number: Store Robbery & 334
Date:  27/03/2025
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Activity & Number: VIP & 335
Date:  27/03/2025
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Activity & Number: CR & 336
Date:  27/03/2025
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Activity & Number: Assisting R BR Bayside  Bank & 337
Date:  28/03/2025
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Activity & Number: Assisting Rebels BR RC Bank & 338
Date:  28/03/2025
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Activity & Number: Store Robbery & 339
Date:  28/03/2025
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Activity & Number: Store Robbery & 340
Date:  28/03/2025
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Activity & Number: Store Robbery & 341
Date:  28/03/2025
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Activity & Number: Store Robbery & 342
Date:  28/03/2025
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Activity & Number: Assisting YZ BR BC Bank & 343
Date:  28/03/2025
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Activity & Number: Store Robbery & 344
Date:  29/03/2025
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Activity & Number: VIP & 345
Date:  29/03/2025
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Activity & Number: Store Robbery & 346
Date:  29/03/2025
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Activity & Number: Store Robbery & 347
Date:  29/03/2025
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Activity & Number: Store Robbery & 348
Date:  29/03/2025
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Activity & Number: Store Robbery & 349
Date:  29/03/2025
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Activity & Number: Store Robbery & 350
Date:  29/03/2025
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Activity & Number: Store Robbery & 351
Date:  29/03/2025
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Activity & Number: Store Robbery & 352
Date:  29/03/2025
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Edited Sunday at 00:28 by Sharlock

[Nexroth]

Roleplay & Number: Los Santos: The Kingdom in the Shadows & 7
Date: 29.03.2025
Story & Screenshot(s): 

The nights in Los Santos are always lively. Known for its backstreets, vibrant bars, and corrupt police, the city never slept. As the most powerful gang in town, we had been pouring money into bribing the authorities to seize full control of the drug trade. However, the government had intervened, tying the hands of the police. An enemy we couldn't control with bribes was the greatest threat of all.
Just as we were contemplating our next move, an unexpected phone call came.
"Listen, there are two gamblers in town. They’ve been rigging the games, scamming casinos, and sending their winnings overseas. The government wants them gone, but they can’t do it legally. They need them to disappear. They want you to handle it."
This offer was exactly what we needed. Doing the government a favor could open doors for us, ensuring total control of the drug business. We accepted the job.

Chapter 1: The Casino Raid

With our crew assembled, we headed to one of the city's most prestigious casinos. Our targets two conmen were already inside. We moved through the tables, pretending to play for a while, keeping a close eye on them. After observing their moves, we decided it was time to act. As we approached their table, they sensed something was off like rats trapped in a corner.
I leaned over the table, smirking.
"Gentlemen, you've pushed your luck too far. You've reached a level where the government can’t turn a blind eye anymore. You're coming with us."
The two men stood up, knowing they had no other choice. Blindfolding them, we led them through the back exit and into a waiting black van. As the engine roared to life, another chapter in Los Santos' dark history was being written.

Chapter 2: The Delivery and the Deal

We didn’t trust the address given to us, so instead, we made them come to our turf. We delivered the targets to a safe location in our neighborhood and handed them over to the government’s special unit. Their fate was not our concern. What mattered was ensuring the government knew they owed us one.
A few days later, word spread our rival gangs were being taken down, one by one. The police had a clear path, eliminating our competition. Now, Los Santos’ drug trade belonged to us alone.

Chapter 3: The Night of Victory

To celebrate our success, we threw a grand party at our biggest club. Everyone was there my crew, the finest liquor, the most beautiful women. Music blasted through the speakers, glasses clinked together, and laughter filled the air.
I lit a cigarette and leaned back. Our plan had worked. We had struck an indirect deal with the government and taken full control of Los Santos' underground trade.
But power in this city never lasted forever. Every victory brought new threats.
For now, though… Tonight was our night.

 

Edited Sunday at 01:01 by Nexroth

[Nexroth]

Roleplay & Number:  Shadow Shipment: Rebels MC and Dangerous Trade & 8
Date: 31.03.2025
Participant(s): @JiirakDaniel @RebelsMotorcycleClub
Story & Screenshot(s): 

Two weeks ago, I had a phone call with one of the Rebels MC members. His voice was deep and firm, and he got straight to the point.
"Jirak wants to meet you in person. Come to the clubhouse."
It was short and direct. I took the directions and hung up without saying much. The Rebels MC clubhouse was hidden behind an old repair shop on the outskirts of the city. When I arrived at the gate, two burly men gave me scrutinizing looks.
"They’re expecting me," I said calmly.
One of them opened the door, and I stepped inside. The atmosphere was dimly lit. At the table sat a tall man with a thick black beard reaching down to his chest. I recognized him immediately Jirak, one of the most influential figures in Rebels MC.
Jirak stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray and gestured for me to sit.
"You know, we always keep our business clean. But sometimes… adjustments need to be made," he said in his rough voice.
"I'm listening," I replied, leaning back in the chair.
"We need to send high quality motorcycles and parts to San Fierro. We want to use your company. You handle the logistics, and we'll accompany you to the ship to oversee the loading process. We need to be sure our goods reach their destination safely."
I nodded. "These kinds of deals come with a price, Jirak."
He chuckled. "Of course, we don’t expect a free service. Name your price. But just know if something goes wrong, we don’t just lose money."
I noticed the men around the room eyeing me carefully, all on high alert. I leaned forward and presented our price proposal. Jirak listened intently, then nodded. "Alright. Consider it done."

A few days later, we began the loading process at the docks. Jirak and a few of his men stood by, watching every step closely. His eyes never left the motorcycles. For us, everything was going according to plan.
The hidden packages inside the motorcycle parts were our real profit. Rebels MC never asked too many questions as long as their shipment arrived safely.
As the last motorcycle was loaded onto the ship, Jirak approached me. "Everything looks like it's going smoothly. Let’s hope it stays that way."
I gave him a confident smile. "Everything is under control."
Jirak and his men mounted their bikes and rode away as soon as the loading was completed. For us, this wasn’t just another business deal. The hidden packages inside the crates were the most crucial part of our plan.
The ship’s engines roared to life, and its horn let out a long farewell sound. Until San Fierro’s port came into view, we wouldn’t be at ease. But then again, we always enjoyed taking risks.

Edited Monday at 22:44 by Nexroth

[Nexroth]

Roleplay & Number: Execution: Seizing Control of Los Santos Arms Trade & 9
Date: 31.03.2025
Story & Screenshot(s): 

We wanted to dominate the arms trade in Los Santos, but to do that, we needed weapons of higher quality and greater effectiveness than the ones we were selling. To access those, I had to establish connections with the high tier arms dealers. But reaching that level required a solid reference and a trusted intermediary.
An old friend came to mind someone I hadn't seen in years. He was a retired hitman and knew the darkest corners of this world far better than I did. Reaching him wasn't difficult. When he answered the phone, his voice was familiar yet weary.
"Who would've thought old friends would call for business one day?" he chuckled.
"I need your help. I want to connect with the top tier arms dealers. Can you assist me?"
After a brief silence, he replied, "Come over. I have some fine toys for you. We’ll talk."

He summoned me to a warehouse hidden behind an old repair shop. When I arrived, he greeted me with a long table filled with high-end, fully equipped weapons. It was an impressive collection silenced pistols, laser-assisted sniper rifles, and even fully automatic firearms.
As I inspected the weapons, my old friend fixed his gaze on me with a serious expression.
"I can help you, but first, I have my own business to take care of. There's a hit I need to carry out, but I'm too preoccupied with other matters. If you handle this for me, I'll set up the deal for you."
Without knowing the details, I agreed. He then explained the target a bookkeeper for one of the city's major arms dealers. This man was a key figure in laundering money for the top sellers.

I began tracking him, closely studying his movements. I learned his routines where he ate, which routes he took, and, most importantly, his most vulnerable moments.
Finally, the perfect opportunity arose. Late in the afternoon, he stepped out of a burger joint and headed to a nearby ATM to withdraw cash. At that moment, I knew it was time to execute the plan.
I had already positioned myself on a rooftop overlooking the ATM. I steadied my weapon, controlled my breathing, and pulled the trigger.
A single silent shot. The target collapsed instantly. Before anyone nearby could process what had happened, I had already disappeared from the rooftop.
I called my old friend. "The target is down. Now we can make the deal."
The next day, I was introduced to the top tier arms dealers of Los Santos. A new game was unfolding at the table for me. I had taken a significant step in the arms trade, but in this world, new threats were always lurking just around the corner.
In Los Santos, gaining power wasn’t just about selling weapons. Sometimes, it meant being the one pulling the trigger instead of being the target.

Edited Monday at 23:22 by Nexroth

[Nexroth]

Roleplay & Number: Silent Message: A Bloody Warning & 10
Date: 31.03.2025
Participant(s): @schwaring 
Story & Screenshot(s): 

In Los Santos, we always ensured our operations ran smoothly and quietly. However, recently, we had learned that a gang had discovered our human trafficking business and was planning to set us up. We didn't know exactly who they were, but we knew they were trying to get close. We needed to send them a strong message one that would teach them who we were and what it would cost to mess with us.
So, we devised a plan. We set up a fake trafficking operation. The refugees were called to a fake location we provided. Once they arrived, they were loaded into a black car with tinted windows. They didn’t understand what was happening, but suspicion was starting to creep in. We drove through the dark streets until we reached the shore, where a prepared boat was waiting.

We carefully loaded the refugees onto the boat and set off into the open sea. According to the plan, we were supposed to head to one of Los Santos' most secluded docks. However, things didn’t go as smoothly as expected. As we advanced further, we encountered a Coast Guard patrol boat. If they caught us, things could get more complicated than we anticipated.

The Coast Guard announced over the radio:
“This is the Los Santos Coast Guard. Stop immediately and surrender!”
My men tensed up, already considering possible escape routes. But I didn’t panic. I calmly stood up and grabbed the radio:
“Alright. Relax. Let’s talk.”
We stopped the boat, and they allowed me to board the patrol vessel. Their guns were trained on me, but I remained composed. The officer in charge looked me straight in the eye and spoke:
“We know what you’re carrying. But we can make a deal.”
I smirked. Everything had a price, and the Coast Guard was no exception. I asked how much he wanted, we negotiated briefly, and I filled his bag with cash. After counting the money, he gave me a knowing look and nodded:
“You were never here.”

They returned me to my boat and went on their way. Now, there were no more obstacles. We continued our journey and reached an underground entrance at the Los Santos docks. The refugees still had no idea where they were going, but they thought they were being saved. We loaded them into another black car and drove toward the outskirts of the city.

They watched me closely, their eyes filled with a mix of fear and hope. But they had no idea this was their final ride. I drove the car into one of Los Santos' busiest streets. It was nearly midnight, but there were still enough people around. I stopped the vehicle, pulled the refugees out, and lined them up. A gang member behind me executed them one by one with a long barreled rifle.
“No one can save you,” I said coldly.
The first shot silenced the entire street. Then, in rapid succession, they were all executed in a public display. Blood splattered onto the pavement as a few onlookers panicked and ran. The news would spread quickly exactly what we wanted. The gang would now understand what it meant to cross us.
Leaving the bodies behind, I got into the car and drove away. Our message was clear: Anyone who dared play games with us would meet the same fate.

 

Edited Monday at 23:25 by Nexroth

[Nexroth]

Roleplay & Number: Jackpot & 11
Date: 03.04.2025
Story & Screenshot(s): 
Our trade, which had spread throughout the town, had begun to resonate in the biker world. As Rebels MC, we were solidifying our name in our territory while also attracting the attention of our enemies. When Sons of Anarchy (SoA) heard about this, they decided to take action and send us a message. Their method? Kidnapping one of us to instill fear.

That day, I had to go to the lottery shop to buy a ticket. Fortunately, a friend of mine offered to drop me off in his car. After getting out and entering the shop to play the lottery, I had no idea that two SoA Prospects had been watching me. Seeing me alone, they seized the opportunity and burst in, holding me at gunpoint before dragging me outside. A SoA member was waiting in a car for a quick getaway.

They shoved me into the vehicle and sped off. The interior was dark, reeking of cigarette smoke. I sat on the back seat with my hands tied, noticing that the Prospect beside me kept his gun aimed at me the entire time. The windows were tinted black, but I managed to catch a glimpse outside. That’s when I saw our gang’s car tailing us. My heart began to race my friend was following us. But how did he find me? It turns out I had dropped my phone in his car. When he came back to return it, he witnessed my abduction and immediately started tracking us.

They took me to an abandoned garage on the outskirts of town. A dim light flickered inside, and the damp concrete walls reeked of mildew. The SoA member in charge smirked as he began interrogating me. "Rebels MC has gotten too bold, my friend. Our boss wants me to send you a message," he said, lifting a baseball bat and pressing it against my forehead. I felt the pain but refused to show it. "We're going to put an end to this. We’ll show you who really runs things here!" he continued.

Meanwhile, the two Prospects stood guard outside. But they failed to account for one thing my friend. Moving silently, he took them down one by one with a silenced pistol. As he entered the garage, the SoA member realized his fate was sealed. My friend rushed over and untied me. "Come on, brother, we’re getting out of here!" he said.

Killing the SoA member in his own garage would have been an easy solution, but it would also have caused major trouble. The police would get involved, and a bigger war between the gangs could erupt. Instead, we decided to send a different kind of message. My friend pressed his gun against the SoA member’s head. "You’re going to tell your people to stay the hell away from us. If you try something like this again, you’re dead," he warned. The SoA member, visibly shaking, nodded in agreement.

But letting him go without consequence wasn’t an option. There had to be a price for his audacity. So, we took some money from the bar’s cash registers inside the garage. As I glanced at his wrist, I noticed an expensive watch. "This will cover our damages," I said, slipping it off his arm. Then, without wasting any more time, we mounted our bikes and rode away.

After that night, we knew that SoA would think twice before coming after us again. We hadn’t just hit them physically we had delivered a psychological blow as well. The cards were now in our hands.

Edited Wednesday at 23:22 by Nexroth