"So… T, I… I don't know what to say, man."
"What to say? Nothing."
"Trevor, we have to talk about this. I mean, this is…"
"This is nothing. Just some medical mumbo-jumbo bullshit. Nothing a hit can't cure."
Trevor tried to light up his pipe but Michael took it and threw it out of the car. "Mike, what the fuck?"
"That shit got you into this mess, man. Chill!"
"Now you're concerned about me? Fuck you, you hypocrite! Look at you. You're only 52 and you look like 80. Tell me, Mickey, how is meth bad and all that alcohol you get into your liver good?"
"Well, the doctor didn't tell me what he told you, so I guess I'm doing something right. Listen, T, your off-the-grid, meth-head, redneck living ends now. You're moving with me."
"Fuck you!"
"You're moving with me, period! You can sleep in Jimmy's former room. He doesn't come home that often anymore."
"He's a big boy."
"Yeah, with a kid on the way. Wendy's pregnant."
"Shit! Why didn't you tell me?"
"I was planning to. But today happened and…"
"Ha, ha, ha, Mikey's gonna be a granddaddy. Hey, if it's a boy, will you name him Trevor?"
"Not sure I'll be the one who names the child, T. Besides, what will they tell him when he'll ask them how he got his name? We've named you after your grandpa's mass murdering, drug addicted, cannibalistic friend!"
"BEST friend, M, best friend! And I will be the one who tells him that!"
"You will if you'll do what I'm telling you to do. We'll get your stuff… or better not, it's probably radioactive or worse! We're going home."
"I'm not moving!"
"You will move! Amanda's visiting her sister in Liberty City and will not come home for a while so we're good."
"Shit… fine! We'll do it your way!"
"At home, we'll have rules, T. No drugs! No meth, no coke, no H, no pot!"
"No pot? What the fuck? Didn't they say it's good for this shit?"
"No pot! At least until we find out more about what you have."
"Fuck!"
"Also, no hookers in the house. You want to pop your cork, you go out. And if you come home drunk or high, I'll throw you into the sea!"
"You'll do me a favour."
"What is this self pity crap? Do you understand the rules?"
"Yeah, whatever."
"Fine. We're almost home."
The large gate of Michael's Rockford Hills mansion opened, letting the Tailgater enter. Michael parked it into the garage and the two entered the house.
"Hey, daddy! Hey, Uncle T!"
"Hey, Trace! Long time no see!"
Tracy hugged her father and Trevor.
"What are you doing home, sweety? Is Frank with you?"
"Yeah, he's having a drink in the kitchen. I came home to take some CD's."
"Alright, then. Tracey, I need to speak with you and Franklin."
"Oh, for fuck's sake!" said Trevor. "Can you not involve everyone in this shit?"
"Can it, T!"
Before Trevor could say anything else, Franklin appeared with a beer in his hand.
"M, T!"
"Hey, Frank. Hey, can we talk?"
"Sure, what's up?"
All four went to the living room where Michael broke down the news to them. Tracey started to cry while Franklin comforted her. Trevor got angry and grabbed Michael from the collar of his shirt. "See what you've done, sugar tits? You made Tracey cry!"
"Take your hands off me, T! She loves you, so she's concerned about you!"
"Yeah, Trevor! I don't want you to die!"
"I won't die, Tracey! I'm not giving them the satisfaction!"
"What satisfaction, man? I swear, you're crazy by the day, homie!"
"Franklin is right. Chill, T, we want what's best for you!"
"I know what's best for me, not you two!"
"Look where your best got you, Trevor. Eight months! You have only eight months to live!"
Tracey continued to sob.
"Hey, babe," said Franklin. "Let's go to your room. You need to rest. The baby needs rest and calm."
"What baby?" said both Michael and Trevor at the same time.
"Uh, well, daddy… We wanted to tell you tonight. I'm pregnant!"
"But Wendy's pregnant too… I… I'm going to have two grandkids?"
"Yeah!"
"Jesus, Trace, I… I don't know what to say!" Michael was in tears, hugging his daughter and his son-in-law, Franklin. Frank then went upstairs with Tracey, leaving Michael and Trevor alone in the living room. A few minutes later, Trevor broke the silence.
"I won't die of this, M! If I am to die, I will die guns blazing!"
"T, we'll try everything. We'll go to Canada, Mexico, fuck, even Europe! We have enough money!"
"Mike, shut up and listen. I won't die in a hospital bed, nor in a care home! I won't do it! I'll shoot myself before that happens! I don't need that. What I need is a purpose."
"What purpose?"
"One last score. One that'll make Union Depository look like child's play. The biggest job in the history of jobs!"
"Don't we have enough, Trevor? What would we need that much money for?"
"Not for the money! For the hell of it! When was the last time you did something like this for fun? We'll become legends!"
"We are already legends, T. I don't know, man. You heard Tracey. I have two grandkids on the way and the thought of doing a job I might not come back from… it's not that enticing anymore, you get me? And Frank, he's going to be a father. Would he risk his life for this shit?"
"Fine! Don't do it then! Stay here, changing diapers! I'll hit up Lester and we'll figure something out! I don't need you!"
"Trevor, please! Just hear me out…"
Trevor tried to go out but Michael stopped him. He then went to Jimmy's room, closing the door behind him.
"T, open the door!"
"FUCK YOU, MIKE! I'll call Lester!"
"Alright."
Michael returned to the living room. His body started to ache since a few months ago. His lifestyle caught up to him, too. He's in no shape for a job, not anymore, not now. He lied on the couch, drinking the remainder of Frank's beer. A few minutes later, Trevor returned. "So?"
"What do you care?"
"Well, I want to know where you plan dying so that I could pick up your body and bury you properly."
"Screw you, man! I'm going to sleep."
Trevor returned to his room while Michael called Lester.
"Hey, Michael!"
"Did Trevor tell you?"
"Yeah, he did. Can't say I'm surprised. Is either that or OD or a bullet in the head."
"About that, did you tell T about any job?"
"I told him I'll help him within reason but what's he thinking about goes beyond any kind of reason."
"He wants something bigger than the UD."
"There might be something, but he'll need your expertise on that. He told me you're out."
"Yeah, man. I'm going to be a grandfather! Twice! Tracey is pregnant too!"
"Congratulations."
"Thanks, Les. So you say he needs my expertise? About what?
"Do you remember John Jefferson Altonbury?"
"The kid actor? Of course! I've seen everything he did. The Flower Bed, Leningrad Awaits, all that pre-Code beauty."
"Then you remember how he died?"
"Les, you insult me now. Every movie buff knows. Stanley Breen shot him and killed him right here, in LS. He became the most hated man in America… well, until Adolf decided to start a war."
"Very good, Michael."
"I know the Altonburys were very rich, so maybe Breen tried to rob them?"
"Altonbury's father killed himself in 1932, two years after his son's death, leaving behind a huge fortune to the state of San Andreas. But what you didn't know about them was that the Altonbury family had one of the most expensive diamonds in existence. The Black Star. 4000 carats!"
"Lester, you continue to insult me. I know everything about every actor in classic Vinewood. The Black Star was lost, though. It's one of the many myths of Los Santos. Wasn't it on TV recently at that show, Lost Memories?"
"Well, in any case, in 1965, some assholes tried to dig up John Jefferson's body, believing the diamond was buried with him by his father but before they could open the casket, they were caught. John Jefferson was then reburied in a concrete vault somewhere in the Midwest, but nobody knows exactly where."
"Lester, if they reburied him, the state surely would have opened the coffin to find out if the diamond was there."
"This is where you come in, M. You know much more about them than me. What do you say? It's not like you're shooting up a federal institution or something."
"You're actually right. All we have to do is dig up a corpse and recover a diamond."
"I suggested that to Trevor but he wants action."
"I'll talk him into it. It would do him good to get out of LS for a while."
"If you decide to do it, meet me at my home tomorrow."
"Alright, see you." Michael sighed. The thought of solving one of Vinewood's biggest mystery was too tempting for him. Lester was right. He's not shooting up any bank or any federal institution. There is no risk, well, apart for being caught for grave robbing though his professional experience won't allow that to happen. He went to Jimmy's room and knocked. "T, you're awake?"
"FUCK YOU, MICHAEL!"
"This diamond stuff. Let's do it!"
Trevor opened the door.