Adam was just cruising down the highway, still trying to wrap his head around how fucking real everything felt, when his phone buzzed. He checked it while stuck in traffic—hell, even Los Santos had rush hour.
Lester:Something new came up. Need to see you ASAP. Meet me at the factory. This could be big.
Adam quickly typed back: Be there in 10.
As he tossed his phone aside, something clicked in his brain. Shit, if he was really at the start of story mode, that meant Michael was probably dealing with all that Madrazo bullshit right now. You know, the whole tennis coach thing, his house getting torn down—all that crazy drama that started the whole damn game.
He switched lanes and headed for Lester's place, and wouldn't you know it, "I Don't Care Anymore" by Phil Collins came on the radio. Adam almost cracked up.
"Oh, come on," he said to himself. "Michael's song? This place is just messing with me now."
But it was kinda perfect, wasn't it? If Michael was anything like the game, dude was probably having a complete meltdown right about now. I mean, having your house literally ripped apart 'cause you caught your wife screwing around? That's rough as hell, even for an ex-bank robber.
When Adam rolled up to Lester's factory, everything looked spot-on—the wheelchair ramp, those heavy-ass doors, the whole deal. But man, it felt so much more real. He could actually smell the motor oil and hear all those computers humming inside.
Lester was chilling outside in his wheelchair, wearing that smug-ass grin he always had.
"Well, well, well. Long time no see," Lester said, rolling over to shake hands. "You're looking good, man. How's the joint treating you?"
Adam got confused for a sec, then remembered Lester probably thought he just got out of prison or whatever. "Yeah, not bad. Keeping my nose clean, mostly."
"Sure you are." Lester laughed and waved toward the entrance. "Come on, let's head inside. Got someone you need to meet."
They walked into the factory, past all those computer setups and planning boards Adam knew by heart from doing heists. The place was way bigger in person though, like a damn maze, with their footsteps echoing all over the place.
"So," Adam said, trying to play it cool, "what's this new thing you're talking about?"
"Jewelry store," Lester shot back without missing a beat. "Nice place, decent security, but nothing we can't deal with. I'm getting a crew together with this old buddy of mine."
Adam's heart started pounding. He knew exactly what store Lester meant. "Vangelico's?"
Lester stopped dead and stared at him. "Yeah, that's it. How the hell did you—whatever, you probably already scoped it out. You always did your homework."
"What's my cut?" Adam asked, even though he already knew.
"Twelve percent. Pretty good for your first gig with the new crew."
"Alright, sounds fair. But who's this old friend? If it's some geezer who's gonna mess things up, I'm out."
Lester got that sneaky look on his face and rolled over to this door Adam hadn't seen before. He knocked a couple times and yelled, "Come on in, he's here."
The door opened up, and Lester turned back to Adam looking all excited.
"Tell me something—you ever hear of Michael Townley?"
Before Adam could say anything, Lester pushed the door wide open, and holy shit—there he was.Ned Luke or Michael De Santa, sitting at this little table, looking exactly like the game but somehow more... worn out. Dude looked like he'd been through absolute hell, which made sense considering all the crap going on in his life.
Michael looked up when they walked in, those famous blue eyes meeting Adam's.
"Hi," Michael said, real simple-like, but his voice had that same tired, dangerous edge that made him such a badass character.
Adam just stood there like an idiot, completely starstruck. He was staring at one of the most legendary video game characters ever, except now the guy was real and sitting right there in front of him.