So I get a seemingly good tip from a friendly cab driver. He tells me, in detail, how one would go about liberating the jewelry store of some of its finest product...minus one crucial point. After parting ways with the cabby, I set off on a few prep errands. I gathered the supplies I would need and stashed them in my extra car, safe in one of the many Los Santos garages. I called a new buddy, goes by Bean, and told him I stumbled into an opportunity. Bean bit, and agreed to meet somewhere secluded to hash out some finer details. After a little chat, Bean and I collect a fast motorcycle and proceeded to the store. Our spirits were high, we finally had the prospect of a solid payday on our doorstep.
If only we'd known at the time, the one critical detail the cabby left out. The fucking security doors.
So good old Bean and I are in Vangelico's, bats in hand, smashing the place into oblivion and lining our pockets. We cleaned the whole place out before we heard a siren, but it sounded like it was approaching fast. We bolted for the door, only to find it had sealed behind us. We were truly fucked.
I thought quickly. There was a slim chance one of us could walk away from this, but only if one of us stalled the police long enough and convincingly. I made up my mind. I would take the hit, I would go to prison, and Bean would walk. I told him to run to the back as fast as he could and toss everything incriminating in the garbage, and to take off his clothes. He was perplexed, but he listened to me in the end. The cops were at the door now, show time. I cleared my throat and headed up to the security door to charm the pants off these cops. I make a point to take up as much space as I can in the door so Bean would be obscured from vision and go off on a long winded tangent about inspecting jewelry being a fetish of mine, that I had no intention to actually leave with anything, and that the cops were trying to kink shame me publicly. By the time they had me sorted out and searched, Bean was clean. They found him in the store while they were sweeping it and when asked I was adamant I didn't know him, and he said the same about me. I watched him walk away from the back of a squad car, unsure if I'd see him again.
The officers had a lot of questions at the station, and I played ball for the most part. I'm nothing if not cordial. A female officer had taken a liking to me on the ride over, and asked if any of the diamond rings in my pocket where mine from before I went to the jewelry store...maybe for a proposal of some sort. I think she was baiting me into proposing to her from the cell, but I threw her a curve ball and told he that I the guy from the store was actually my boyfriend, and the ring was meant for him. She let me keep it, and I picked it up when my 10 months were up.
First thing after I was released, I open my phone to call Bean. He picked me up within 30 seconds. A bond was forged, and my sacrifice was worth it. Whatever money we would've made that day paled in comparison to the value of earning someone's trust. A ride or die friend is nothing to scoff at.