Patrick and Derrick McReary check the street for any cops outside the Libortonian Museum. They sit in a blue, stolen sports car, a Banshee
that the Irish mob had stolen outside a hotel in upper Alderney. Not really the place for the Irish mob to be hanging around here in Liberty
City, since the Italians already claim most of the turf, but it is well worth it (and the fact Derrick kept pestering about the need for "funds"
for the Cause in Ireland for the IRA). Patrick and Derrick have been casing the Libortonian for months now and they have word of a new
shipment of art pieces from the Austin Museum of Art in Texas, mostly antique Native American pottery and a few paintings. Derrick had
been taking too much dope at the time when he suggested (while pointing a gun) to his Irish mob boss brother, Gerald, about a heist to
steal some artifacts, sell them on the black market and send whatever money they got to the IRA on Ireland. Gerald knew he was insane
and higher than the clouds but would he want to face the wrath of Derrick, who every single one of the McReary brothers feared? The
answer was an obvious "Fuck no" in Gerald's head as the plan was concocted within a matter of weeks. Patrick knew that his brother was
a crazy-dope obsessed bastard, but Gerald was the boss and even against everything he knew, he followed his brother's directions not
because of the fact Gerald was his boss or even his brother, it was the fact he was getting 10% of the cut, which means more drug money
for Patrick. The plan was similar to what he, Derrick, Michael (who was shot dead by some asshole thanks to Derrick) and Niko did at the
Bank of Liberty over a year ago. Except this time Patrick hopes Derrick doesn't fuck things up again and shit doesn't blow up in his face
and gets him killed like what happened with Michael. Patrick looks down at the assault rifle in his lap and then turns left to Derrick in the
driver's seat and sees him sticking a shot of dope into his arm.
"Jesus fuck'n Christ Derrick" Patrick says annoyingly "Of all times, you gotta do that shit now?"
Derrick turns to Patrick "Packie, you fuck'n bastard. What did I say about question'n me? Huh!"
Patrick looks down at the pistol in Derrick's hand "You know what I fuck'n said you stupid asshole. Save that shit for after the job's done"
Derrick presses the plunger on the shot and a stream of dope enters into his bloodstream, Patrick sighs and looks at Derrick
disappointingly and angrily, he knows Derrick is completely unstable when he's high, but after witnessing the Cause in Ireland, I guess
Patrick can't blame his oldest brother for an escape. Patrick looks at the time on the screen of his cell phone: 1:00 PM.
"Allright Derrick, time to get this show on the road" Patrick says
"Don't fuck'n tell me what to do Packie" Derrick responds annoyingly "I know what to do"
"Good, hopefully I don't end up getting blasted in the chest like Michael did because of you"
"Packie, I'm warn'n you, you're push'n your luck"
"Good, I'm fuck'n Irish, I got all the luck in the world. Now let's go"