Lyle - The Hacker
Arthur Sterling remained highly active in the cavernous, echoing warehouse while waiting for the specialized parts he desperately needed for the massive Dodge Ram 3500 van.
Solo overhauling a heavy, commercial van in a single, grueling day was an incredibly tough, backbreaking endeavor.
So, instead of sitting around, during the tense wait he violently ripped out the heavy rear passenger seats, dragging the cumbersome cushions and metal brackets across the concrete to stash them in a dark corner of the warehouse.
Then, he immediately set to work on the heart of the beast, dismantling the front grille and loosening the mounts to remove the bulky factory engine.
With the loud clatter of steel tools and a few heavy-duty hydraulic jacks, he smoothly hoisted the van's heavy chassis into the air and systematically swapped out its worn, civilian tires, prepping the bare wheel wells for the fresh, high-grip rubber that was on the way.
Charlie Croker worked far faster than Arthur had initially expected. Within just two short hours of his departure, pristine boxes of high-end mechanical parts and thick electronic cables began arriving at the heavy steel doors.
Though Arthur logically knew this specific, gutted van would likely never see direct, high-speed action in a cinematic car chase, cold hard money was money, and he needed the cash to survive in this dangerous city.
Strictly following Charlie's meticulous list, Arthur carefully upgraded the utilitarian vehicle piece by piece, his hands moving in a practiced, fluid blur of grease and steel.
He briefly wondered, wiping sweat from his brow, why the system hadn't listed modification as a completely separate ability, instead bundling all of these highly complex, structural changes directly under his overarching [Repair] skill.
Still, from the sweltering afternoon heat until the cool night air seeped under the doors, he kept relentlessly dismantling, cutting, welding, and reassembling the van.
He transitioned from working in the dim, natural shadows of the late afternoon to laboring under the harsh, buzzing glare of the warehouse's massive industrial halogen lights.
Arthur repeatedly heard the familiar, cold mechanical notifications ringing in his head, signaling frequent +1 [Repair] experience point gains, and that constant, rewarding progression made him feel incredibly pumped to keep pushing his physical limits.
Charlie didn't return to the isolated warehouse until well past seven in the evening. The moment he stepped through the heavy doors, he saw the massive space in a state of organized chaos—heavy car parts, discarded wiring harnesses, and steel tools were scattered everywhere across the floor.
Even though dark synthetic oil and pungent gasoline had completely stained the concrete floor, turning it into a slick, hazardous mess, Charlie remained unfazed. As an old, deeply experienced hand at [Driving], Charlie could still clearly read the situation.
The complex structural modifications were moving incredibly fast and going exceptionally smoothly. Charlie had originally felt quite uneasy about hiring Arthur, simply because the guy looked entirely too young and unassuming to pull off such a heavy, combat-ready build.
But that lingering worry completely eased into genuine relief as he stood in the shadows and watched Arthur's deeply serious, meticulous attitude and flawless, practiced mechanical moves.
"Hey, Arthur, incredibly nice skills you have there!" Charlie called out, a charismatic smile spreading across his weathered face.
After silently watching for a while longer, Charlie clearly saw that the heavy retrofit was racing along far ahead of schedule.
The Dodge Ram 3500 van's original factory engine had originally put out a respectable, but ultimately insufficient, four hundred horsepower.
Arthur had completely swapped that sluggish block out, flawlessly dropping in a pristine, second-hand 6.0-liter twin-turbo engine. The vehicle's peak power output now hit a staggering 450 to 460 kilowatts—roughly translating to an aggressive, roaring six hundred horsepower.
Deeply worried about the massive extra load of the heavy batteries and electronics Charlie required, Arthur had expertly fitted four brand-new, specialized heavy-duty tires to handle the extreme weight distribution.
Furthermore, he had meticulously welded two thick, solid aluminum alloy support rails directly beneath the rear floor chassis.
These custom additions added almost absolutely no dead weight to the vehicle, yet they hugely and undeniably boosted the van's overall load safety and structural rigidity. Charlie listened intently as Arthur calmly wiped grease from his hands and explained every single intricate step of the build process.
Being a highly seasoned driver himself, Charlie understood every single technical word perfectly. So, watching the armored van rapidly near completion, Charlie felt incredibly pleased and smoothly struck up a casual conversation to test the waters.
Still actively working a wrench over a stubborn bolt, Arthur offered a modest smile and said, "My parents died quite early. I had to drop out of high school just to hustle on the streets for food."
"Luckily, I've always got a natural knack for deep [Repair] work and heavy modification."
"I picked up some solid skills in the garages—just enough to get by and keep a roof over my head."
Arthur's highly enhanced mind knew exactly what was happening. He knew Charlie was quietly, strategically sounding him out. The charismatic man was a world-class professional thief, inherently meticulous, deeply paranoid, and always cautious.
If Arthur played his cards right, the next time a massive, high-stakes job needed a dedicated ride perfectly prepped, Arthur might just be Charlie's very first phone call. Hearing that tragic but grounded backstory, Charlie's genuine grin widened considerably.
Elite crooks and master thieves like Charlie strongly preferred hiring technical partners with incredibly clean, simple, and untraceable backgrounds. Arthur's fabricated family history was perfectly straightforward, meaning far less potential trouble for the crew.
At the very least, Charlie absolutely wouldn't have to worry that, while the getaway van was actively being worked on, the Los Angeles police might suddenly show up out of nowhere for some violent past crime of Arthur's, haul the kid away in cuffs, and accidentally investigate the rest of the secretive team in the messy process.
After ten o'clock at night, the vast majority of the heavy mechanical retrofit was finally completely done. Just as Arthur grabbed a pair of wire strippers, about to start routing the complex electronics and wiring the heavy battery banks, Charlie held up a hand and told Arthur to stop.
He insisted Arthur grab some hot food and take a much-needed rest. Arthur's sharp eyes flickered. He easily guessed there might be other, highly secretive plans Charlie needed to execute in private. He was feeling incredibly hungry from the grueling manual labor anyway, so he quickly agreed, wiping his hands on a rag.
He had just finished swallowing the last bite of a greasy, satisfying burger when the sudden, aggressive roar of high-revving motorcycle engines violently echoed from the dark street outside the warehouse.
Along with the deafening scream of the engines came the horrifying, metallic crunch of a high-speed crash, immediately followed by a shrill scream of pain.
Charlie's casual expression instantly changed to one of absolute panic; he sprinted out the heavy steel doors into the cool night air. Deeply curious, Arthur dropped his trash and quickly followed close behind.
Under the flickering, yellow glow of a streetlamp, they found a wiry, young white guy completely pinned beneath the heavy, chrome-plated frame of a Honda RC51, howling miserably in absolute pain.
The violent crash had left deep, aggressive scrape marks directly across the brick face of the warehouse wall. Clearly, the inexperienced kid had panicked, completely lost control of the throttle, and ridden the powerful machine straight into the solid brick structure.
"Lyle, I specifically told you that high-speed bikes simply aren't your thing," Charlie chuckled warmly, his panic instantly fading into amused relief as he gently teased the pinned, groaning youth.
Then, using his solid strength, Charlie grabbed the handlebars, righted the heavy motorcycle, and hauled the wincing kid up from the asphalt.
Up until this exact second, Arthur had still harbored a tiny, lingering sliver of doubt deep in his mind about Charlie's true, cinematic identity.
But the absolute moment he laid eyes on this complaining, awkward young man, that very last shred of doubt violently vanished into thin air. The wiry white kid was undeniably Lyle—the undisputed computer prodigy and top-tier technological hacker.
In the high-stakes plot of The Italian Job, Lyle had flawlessly helped Charlie execute the impossible. He had used his genius to hack directly into Los Angeles's highly secure, centralized traffic grid, completely bringing the entire, sprawling city's transportation system down in a synchronized wave of green lights.
That digital manipulation had allowed them to successfully snatch back the mountain of gold Steve had violently stolen—and they did it completely without firing a single lethal shot in the streets.
It was absolutely no exaggeration to say that the protagonist's elite team in The Italian Job was eventually able to snatch back the glittering gold strictly because of this kid. It would have been completely, mathematically impossible without Lyle's digital oversight; it wasn't even an overstatement to say the quirky hacker deserved the absolute most credit for the heist's flawless execution.
Right, how on earth could I forget about the massive potential of computers in this modern era? Arthur thought, a rush of adrenaline flooding his system. He was incredibly delighted to see Lyle standing there rubbing his bruised leg.
Accurately identifying Charlie as the legendary master gold thief Charlie Croker from the cinematic plot of The Italian Job was certainly one massive, lucrative thing.
But what made Arthur the absolute happiest right now was suddenly remembering that a brand-new, incredibly powerful [Computer] skill could likely be triggered just by interacting with this genius.
To carefully avoid drawing any unwanted suspicion, however, Arthur's intense, calculating gaze quickly landed back on the downed motorcycle with its slightly scuffed, aerodynamic front end.
It was a pristine Honda RC51, a legendary, high-performance racing motorcycle released just a few short years ago to massive global acclaim.
Equipped with a terrifyingly powerful 999cc V-twin four-stroke engine, it boasted a maximum output of an aggressive 131 horsepower.
This was an elite, high-performance motorcycle that stood out exceptionally well in professional circuit races, tearing up the open road, or dominating the neon-lit city streets.
Arthur's predecessor had also once desperately wanted to buy a sleek RC51 to impress the local crowds; however, in the United States, just the standard base model easily cost nearly ten thousand dollars in cold hard cash. Lyle's scratched bike, currently ticking as the engine cooled on the asphalt, was clearly a top-of-the-line, high-spec flagship model.
Judging intensely by the custom paint patterns and some of the aggressive, aftermarket carbon-fiber components Arthur's trained eyes immediately spotted, it was highly likely a deeply expensive, custom-tuned version.
In other words, a machine of this absolute caliber definitely couldn't be had for anything less than twenty thousand dollars from a specialized dealer.
Arthur silently marveled for a long moment at the incredibly high, disposable income these underground hackers must generate from their digital exploits.
In Arthur's racing heart, the burning desire to successfully trigger and rapidly level up computer-related skills became even more fervently intense.