The main five were the ones he would spend the most time with so he got more acquainted with them. It was more dangerous and less profitable to be independent, though, so he accepted Ramsey's proposal after a couple weeks of contemplation. He certainly wasn't unknown in Los Santos’s underground but without anyone calling the shots for him he still had freedom to do whatever he wanted. The Fake AH Crew was still up and coming, but with Ramsey, muscle of the once-infamous now disbanded Rooster Teeth crew people knew it wasn't long before they ran the city. Geoff had approached Ryan with the job offer, initially. It was only 9 pm, but he knew he was in for a long time. “Great,” Ryan muttered, running his hands over his face. “Our walkie talkies are out of range as well. “Probably not until the dust has settled.” Would they say if they caught one of us?” Ryan wasn't sure if this was a good or bad sign. Two hours after the heist and they'd seemed to already move on to other news. The signal was bad but he could at least somewhat understanding what the voices were saying. Gavin was tinkering with a handheld radio. ![]() He sat sideways, mostly to prop up his feet but he'd be lying if he claimed that it wasn't also so he didn't have to look at Gavin. Once he was in and parked, he relocked the gate and hurried into the warehouse. He pulled up to the warehouse and got out to open the gate. He tuned the station to a news channel, but the farther he got from the city the worse the reception became until he could hardly distinguish a word behind the static. The rendezvous point was nearby, an old warehouse a couple miles off the freeway and behind Chiliad, along a winding back road. He found the one car in Stab City that looked like it'd run and hot wired the engine. That's where they'd be if they outran the cops. He shook his head to clear his mind of the thought. The mere thought of any of them being caught or killed left a pit of anxiety in his stomach. Without the imminent threat of arrest or death behind him, he was beginning to worry about the others. He hadn't heard from the guys since the heist. He tried to reach out to the rest of the crew with his walkie talkie, but to no avail. ![]() When he reached the trailer park on the edge of the city, aptly called Stab City, he stopped for a short rest. Things went south quick, the bag of cash was heavy on his shoulder, and he'd been running for at least an hour now, through winding back roads. Mostly due to the fact that he hadn't slept well for the past two months, so after they spent an entire day planning the heist the last thing he wanted to do was visit a gym. He was only 30, and his job required some level of athleticism, but he had gotten lazy as of late. Ryan's lungs felt like they were on fire.
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