"And we're here." Michael smiled as he opened the door for his wife. "I'll pick you up at 9 tonight."
"Ok babe." She smiled, getting out of the car and walking away.
"Love you!" He shouted back as he walked back around and getting back into the car. He smirked as her looked in the rear view mirror. Just then, his phone rang.
"Hey Frank, what's up?"
"Mich, shit. We have a problem, it's Trevor's truck man."
"What are you talking about?"
"Trevor's truck is being towed to the Police Station on Mission Row. I think it's being impounded."
"What?!"
"Shit man. I need your help to bust it out."
"Where's Trevor?"
"Someone called Ron picked up his phone when I rang. He's in his home in Sandy Shores."
"Ok, ok. Stay with the truck, I'm coming."
A little while later, Michael stopped outside an old shop, where he found Franklin hiding down an alley.
"They towed his truck in one of the garages, under the station. How do you want to do this?"
"Don't know...have any sticky bombs on you?"
"In my trunk."
"Ok, I'll cover you from the roof while you blast those doors off. Luckily, I carry my sniper rifle around." He walked over to his car and took out his sniper rifle. Franklin shut his car trunk and he began walking to the station. Michael jumped and climbed up his ladder. He then stood up and walked up the fire escapes. Once he was in position, Franklin was trying 4 sticky bombs on the door and quickly ran behind one of the police cars that was idling in one of the parking spots. The door blew open and he ran through the smoke, to the truck. The police quickly ran outside and Michael began picking them off, one by one. Due to being paranoid of being shot, none of them saw Franklin racing out, smashing his way through the crowd and drifted on the road, onto the bridge. Franklin then started cowering in the front seat as a police helicopter began shooting the truck.
Time slowed down as Micheal lined the cross hair over the pilot's head and the bullet went straight through the pilot's head, killing him instantly. The helicopter went into a downward spiral and crash into the pack of police cars. Franklin was able to race down the bridge, drift down the alleyway, racing past Lester's old Garment Factory. He then drifting onto the railway lines, towards the tunnel. The tunnel had many twists and turns but Franklin didn't care. He plunged into the mouth and kept driving until he reached the other end. He stopped short of the tunnel mouth and stayed there until he waited for the distance sirens to end. Soon, the helicopters left the scene and Franklin drove out of the tunnel. He drove down the hill, across the bumpy ditch and up the other side. He drove over the barrier and back into the city. Just then, Michael shot by, going out of town. He did a U turn when there was no barriers and caught up to Michael, who was going slow enough.
The sun was fading under the horizon when they finally arrived at Sandy Shores. They were surprised when they saw another truck there, exactly like the truck Franklin driving.
Trevor was looking at it, having his palms on the door. He then looked at Ron.
"Do you think I'm fucking stupid?!" He started sizing up. "This is all wrong!" He shouted, so loudly that the birds in the nearby trees flew away. "Take it away!" Ron walked to the car in defeat and got into the truck. As he left, Trevor's face became a lot more relaxed.
"Ah, my n-word. What's up?" He lightly punched his arm before looking at Michael. "Hey." He said disinterested as he patting Michael's back.
"We bust your truck out of the impound lot."
"Huh...I was wondering why I had this thing." He jester towards a light blue panto. "Well, thank you gentlemen. I wish I could stay and talk but T.P.I. waits for no one! See you later amigos." Trevor sped away with this truck towards the cook site.
"Alright, I'll talk to you later." The two fist-bumped and Franklin got back into his car. As Franklin drove off, realization dawned on Michael he had no car. Luck for him, he had three hours anyway so he decided to walk around until he found a car to steal.
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