Michael eventually made that call.
Not to Trevor, but to Franklin.
After returning from Vinewood that day, Simeon pursued him like a mad dog for the car, even sending people to post collection notices at his house—this completely infuriated Michael.
Not because of the embarrassment, but because Amanda De Santa, after seeing the collection notice, spent the entire dinner complaining, “I knew marrying you was a mistake,” and “Look at that yoga instructor, he has savings and property.”
“The yoga instructor slept with your wife, of course he has savings.” Michael almost said this, but held back.
He picked up the phone and dialed Franklin’s number.
“Do me a favor.
Hijack a car from the movie studio; the pay is good.
Bring along your Richard friend.”
Forty minutes later, the trio met in Michael’s garage.
It was Richard’s first time in Michael’s mansion; he restrained himself from looking around—though inside he was screaming, “This is a save point in the game, holy crap!”
Lamar was not polite at all; as soon as he entered, he touched Michael’s trophy: “Whoa, is this a bowling trophy?
You can bowl?”
“That’s my ‘Pretentious Middle-Aged Man’ trophy.” Michael said, expressionless.
“Now, listen to the plan.”
Michael’s plan was simple: The Los Santos movie studio had a vintage sports car worth a million, owned by an upstart producer who owed a gang some money.
The gang commissioned Michael to “recover” the car for a reward of fifty thousand.
Michael would take twenty-five thousand, and Franklin and Richard would take twenty-five thousand.
“Wait,” Lamar raised his hand, “what about me?”
“You’re on lookout.”
“Lookout?”
“Just keeping watch.
Stand at the door, and if you see cops or security, blow a whistle.”
Lamar thought for a moment: “Can you add two hundred bucks for me?”
Michael glanced at Richard, his expression saying, “Is this guy serious?” Richard shrugged: “He’s our mascot.”
“Mascots need to eat too!” Lamar protested.
The mission was set for ten o’clock at night.
The movie studio’s security system was more complex than Michael had anticipated—there were three mobile patrols, two keycard systems, and a German Shepherd that was said to “bite.” Relying on the system’s mini-map, Richard marked all the blind spots in advance, leading Franklin around most of the guards like they were playing a stealth game.
“Turn left, wait three seconds, then run behind that white van.” Richard directed through the headset.
Franklin followed suit, dodging a guard’s flashlight beam.
“Now for the dog—don’t run, walk slowly.
“How do you even know about the dog?” Franklin asked in a low voice.
“Because I scouted the location beforehand.” Richard was getting better at lying.
In the garage, the vintage sports car sat quietly under the spotlight, its body gleaming like a black gemstone.
Franklin pulled out a master key to open the door, but Richard stopped him: “Don’t.
This car has a GPS tracker.
Remove it first, it’s under the chassis.”
“How did you kn—never mind, I won’t ask.”
Franklin crawled under the car and used pliers to cut a wire, and the GPS light went out.
Just then, Lamar’s whistling came through the headset, shrill and off-key.
“Someone’s coming!
Three of them!
They have guns!”
“Lamar, your whistling is louder than a siren!” Richard scolded.
“I thought the whistle was the signal!”
“The signal is ‘ahem,’ not whistling!”
The security guards had already rushed into the garage, flashlights swinging wildly.
Franklin jumped into the sports car and started the engine, and Richard pulled open the passenger door and jumped in.
The moment the headlights turned on, the three guards raised their guns simultaneously.
“Hold on!”
Franklin floored the gas pedal, and the sports car smashed through the garage’s wooden door like a cannonball, sending debris flying.
Two guards dove aside in fear, while the third fired a shot, the bullet hitting the trunk with a crisp metallic sound.
“They shot at us?!” Lamar screamed in the headset.
“Didn’t you say you were on lookout?
Where was your lookout?!”
“I was looking out!
It was very windy!”
Michael was waiting at the exit in another car.
Seeing the sports car burst out, he immediately steered to follow.
The two cars raced through the dead of night in Los Santos, with three movie studio security SUVs in hot pursuit.
“Where to?” Franklin asked.
Richard glanced at the mini-map and saw a construction zone ahead—a dead end, but with a ramp they could jump over. Enjoying the story? Read on at g.com.
He took a deep breath: “See that orange barrier ahead?
Speed up, drive through it.”
“Drive through it?
Are you sure??”
“Trust me.”
Franklin gritted his teeth and floored the accelerator.
The sports car hit the ramp of the barrier and flew into the air.
Richard grabbed the handle tightly, seeing the construction site below lit up, workers looking up at them as if they were seeing an alien spacecraft.
“Bang!”
The car landed on a dirt pile on the other side of the construction site, the suspension nearly falling apart, but all four wheels were still turning.
In the rearview mirror, the security SUVs had all stopped at the dead end, the drivers getting out and cursing.
Michael’s car circled around from another road and pulled up beside them.
He rolled down the window, looked at the dents and broken glass on the roof of the sports car, and was silent for five seconds.
“Can this car still be sold?”
“Yes,” Richard said, “as scrap metal.”
“…Fifty thousand turns into five thousand.”
“But at least we’re alive.” Franklin wiped the sweat from his forehead.
Lamar poked his head out from Michael’s backseat, holding a bag of chips: “I found a problem while I was waiting for you guys in the car—these chips are from Michael’s house, and they’re three months expired.”
Michael’s face twitched: “Those are my daughter’s.”
“You eat them even though they’re expired?”
“She eats expired chips to diet.”
Richard leaned back in the seat, looking at the night sky of Los Santos, and suddenly laughed.
Gunfights, car chases, expired chips—this was the normal style of GTA5.
The phone vibrated: [Mission [Movie Studio Car] Complete.
Michael Relationship +20 (Current 35).
Skill Unlocked: [Team Escape] — When the trio is present, police pursuit speed is reduced.]
“Reduced police pursuit speed?” Richard muttered, “This system is actually quite useful.”
Lamar turned his head and asked, “Bro, what system?”
“Oh, nothing, I was talking about my phone’s system.” Richard brushed it off.