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Post  Frank_Lomin on Thu Apr 24, 2008 12:36 am

Frank was born in a farm on a rainy night, the 25th december 1977, outside of Krasnoyarsk.
He was son of a true communist, a man of honor.
His father had been serving in the 2nd world war, and had seen things noone else had. His mother was a daughter of a poor farmer.
Frank hated her mother for her weakness, she never showed any strenght at all, she was a weak being, a disgrace to Frank and his father. They lived out his first 14 years on the farm. His father taught him how to hunt, and his mother was only in the way. She tried to raise him as a farmer, but he just kept his distance from her. He enjoyed spending time, listening to his fathers historied about the war, and the experience was taught in the trade of hunting. He quickly became a good shot,
and learnt how to sneak. Thats what saved his father during the war,
His skills with a rifle, and his ability to hide.


On his 14th birthday, the 25th december 1991, the soviet empire collapsed. All hell broke loose.
In the next year, communists became hunted, and they had to flee the countryside. His mother who wasn't a true communist, gladly accepted the new regime, and she stayed on the farm. Frank and his father started fleeing east, but the winter nights in siberia were harsh.
They had to hunt wolves and other animals to stay alive, and altough his father was 71, he managed to keep on.
The only one in the world that Frank could trust, was his father, so he couldn't leave him behind. They eventually came to Magadan, after a year of travels. Magadan was a fishing town on the russian east coast. They settled, since the desolate town hadn't been affected by the fall of communism. There was heroin dealing going on in that town. Franks father quickly made a deal with the local gang and got him and Frank into the business. Franks father was too old to run errands so Frank did it
for him. After Spending a few years in Magadan, the anti communism, made its way to Magadan. They had made enough money out of the drugbusiness, so they took the money, and snuck aboard a cargo ship headed for San Andreas, USA.


Aboard the ship they found a very rich man, a chinese businessman. He were chocked to see two russian communists in his private
cargo shit, and tried to kill them with his guards. Frank took them all out, snapped their necks before their fists hit him.
Then he slowly gutted the chinese traitor, who had abandoned communism. He didn't do it cos he was a communist, but because his
father was a patriotic communist. Frank didn't care about communism much, he liked some ideas of it though.
They found a key to a whole appartment building, located in Vice City.
When they arrived to San Fierro, they didn't waste time. They quicky
grabbed a cab, and headed to the San Fierro airport. With tickets, found on the boat, they took the first flight to Vice City.
After their arrival, they took a cab and went to the appartment building. It was a mess inside, drug addicts laying in piles everywhere.
They spent about a half year of cleaning the appartments and started to rent it out. They made a fortune due to the lack of homes in Vice City. They had a side business which included selling drugs. Frank learn't english very fast, and started taking care of the business.


The year was 1997 His father was now 77 years old and was taken into an old people's home. Frank got involved in the local drug
cartel, and money rolled in faster than ever before. This business continued for years, until one day outside the drug factory.
The feds, along with VCPD had surrounded most of the cartel's high members. They sent in tear gas, and almost everyone in the
cartel, except for Frank and a huge guy could withstand the gas.
Frank's father had made him physically strong enough to
be able to withstand such pain, when he was young.
They together grabbed an AK each and started opening fire at the storming police. They kept them away from the entrance and one by one, the other cartel members came to help. They fought off the police
and Frank got out to the courtyard. They took over one of the VCPD choppers, and he and a few of the leaders jumped in and escaped.
He later read that the Military was called in when the crazy huge guy started to fire rpg's at the police. The whole factory was bombed.


They made it to the countryside of Liberty City and snuck into the city and laid low for a year. When they felt safe again, they moved out and started doing business again. This time Frank said goodbye to his old partners, and started working for the local mafia. He became an armsdealer, drugdealer and a personal driver for the local don.
He brought his now 80 year old father to Liberty City. He was proud of his son, now 23 years old. His father thought about the resemblences between him and Frank. He had been in the 2nd world war, doing shady business, and now his son did the same, though in a mafia.
Things rolled on very well until 2007.


The main asian organisation in Liberty City, the Yakuzas decided to attempt to drive out the mafia for good. They got help from the local Triad gang, and went to the mafia restaurant. A shootout occured.
Frank had to defend his don, and his father. He saw friends go down,
he saw his don flee, leaving him there alone with his father. He was alone, with an old man, against 10 Asians. He remembered what he did back on the boat when he came to America.
Powered by anger, his fury, and his love for his father, He charged them. With nothing to loose he started firing wildly to take
them out, and one by one they went down. He took a hit to his left arm, but he didn't feel it, he just kept on going.
When there was only 2 asians left, they had all used up their ammo. They drew knives but Frank, a man of honor, just like his
father, stood there with his bare fists. He was more agile than his foes, and quickly overcame them. He broke both of their neck's
and then looked at the scene, probably over 30 dead bodies in there. He felt abandoned by his don. He saw his father sitting in his wheelchair, with a bullet to his chest. His last words were; "Son I am very proud of you, you are the best son a father like me could'v had. I wish you luck in life, and I want you to know something, something all Russians should live by. It's an old russian proverb; "A wolf won't eat wolf".
Stick with your people son".
With those words he died. Frank put the body in a coffin and packed his things. He went to Los Santos, and buried his father at the cemetary.
He was now in a city without friends. He had noone to rely on,
and he didn't know where to go.
He just had money from his old business with him and he was determined to find russian friends.

Last edited by Frank_Lomin on Sun May 11, 2008 11:42 pm; edited 13 times in total
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