Stella and Charlie
Lyle and Charlie Croker had known each other for a long time. The addition of the high-end electronic equipment and the heavy, deep-cycle battery banks to the van was specifically ordered to satisfy Lyle's extreme technological needs for the upcoming operation.
After Arthur Sterling watched the two men exchange a few brief, familiar pleasantries under the flickering streetlamp outside, Charlie hurriedly ushered the limping Lyle and his scuffed, heavy motorcycle inside the warehouse. The heavy steel doors slammed shut, sealing them in the cavernous, oil-stained space. Only then did the master thief formally introduce the two.
"Hi, Lyle," Charlie said smoothly, gesturing to the mechanic. "This is Arthur. He's a highly skilled hand who is completely in charge of the vehicle's structural modification."
He turned to the younger mechanic. "Arthur, this is Lyle."
Although Lyle looked a bit dazed and was still wincing slightly from his nasty crash against the brick wall, he clearly wasn't lacking in basic situational awareness. Having worked on high-stakes jobs with Charlie before, he quickly understood exactly what Charlie meant by the introduction—Arthur was a temporary contractor, not full inner-circle. Yet, Lyle immediately offered a bright, genuine smile and took the friendly initiative to shake Arthur's calloused hand.
"Hi, just call me Lyle," he greeted warmly. Then, almost like a rehearsed reflex, he leaned in. "I bet you've heard of Napster. You know, the famous music-sharing software? Actually, I am its true, original creator. But Shawn Fanning ruthlessly stole my nearly completed software and my brilliant idea while I was sound asleep."
Charlie looked at the young hacker with a deep sense of weary helplessness. He genuinely hadn't expected that even after several long years had passed, Lyle would still obsessively repeat this bitter origin story to absolutely everyone he met.
As for the actual truth of Lyle's bold claims, Charlie wasn't entirely sure. But he truly didn't care about software copyright disputes right now. The absolute only thing consuming his thoughts was finding the murderous traitor Steve and extracting a brutal, calculated revenge.
Arthur had dabbled in programming in his previous life, but he was only a half-baked novice at best. He had forgotten almost everything he learned in university shortly after graduation, so he didn't actually know if what Lyle said was historically true or false either.
But that certainly didn't stop Arthur from responding smoothly. "Arthur," he introduced himself, his grip firm. "I'm exceptionally good at the deep [Repair] and complex modification of heavy vehicles. By the way, I also ride motorcycles."
Lyle's eyes instantly lit up when he heard this. He didn't actually like heavy motorcycles that much. As an undisputed computer genius, Lyle was naturally something of a reclusive shut-in. Even in the United States, awkward tech shut-ins didn't exactly have a massive, thriving market in the dating scene. It was precisely because Lyle had heard that beautiful girls heavily favored cooler, more traditionally manly men that he had blindly followed the aggressive trend and bought a high-performance racing motorcycle. A deeply expensive, custom version, at that. He just desperately hoped the leather jacket and the roaring engine would make him significantly more popular with women.
"Hey, let's definitely exchange riding notes when we have the chance!" Lyle offered eagerly.
Arthur smiled and nodded politely, though he couldn't help but vividly recall the chaotic scene from just moments ago. Yeah, exchange notes on how you rode a pristine, twenty-thousand-dollar racing bike directly into a solid brick wall, he mused silently.
Seeing that the two had sufficiently greeted each other, the inherently impatient Charlie stepped forward to aggressively take over the conversation. "Lyle, Arthur has already finished the vast majority of the heavy mechanical modifications on the chassis. I've bought all the specific, high-end electronic equipment you demanded. Next, you two need to discuss exactly how to seamlessly continue installing this gear."
Lyle was clearly a dedicated night owl; although it was already creeping very late into the night, he didn't care at all. Hearing Charlie's directive, he immediately nodded. "No problem, Charlie. Leave the tech integration entirely to me."
Charlie pulled the hacker aside into the shadows, gave him a few hushed, cryptic instructions, and then silently left the warehouse, blending back into the dark Los Angeles night.
Arthur didn't intentionally try to pry or cause any trouble by asking too many questions. He knew perfectly well that the Steve Charlie planned to take violent revenge on was an incredibly cunning, ruthless, and difficult man to deal with. Therefore, the heavily armored vehicle currently being modified could only be used as a blunt tool vehicle later in the heist. So, Arthur wasn't worried at all that Charlie and the elite crew would permanently stop contacting him after he seriously and flawlessly completed the job. He just needed to prove his undeniable worth.
While constantly communicating with the energetic Lyle, Arthur carefully and methodically modified the van's interior according to the strict, power-heavy requirements. Along the grueling way, during the intricate modification process, he also utilized his advanced skills to flawlessly fix all the lingering, minor mechanical problems plaguing the original second-hand engine.
By the time Arthur was absolutely certain that this heavy, second-hand Dodge Ram 3500 van had been entirely revitalized in his capable hands, the first gray light of dawn was already creeping through the dusty warehouse windows.
"Ha!" Lyle let out another massive, jaw-cracking yawn. He had been yawning repeatedly since more than two hours ago, his eyes bloodshot from staring at complex wiring schematics. But he was a genuinely decent, dedicated guy, and he actually toughed it out to accompany Arthur through the final, exhausting touches of the electrical integration.
"Finished," Arthur declared, wiping his grease-stained hands on a rag.
Seeing Arthur finally start to pack up his heavy steel toolbox, Lyle was suddenly jolted awake. He quickly stood up, stretching his stiff back, and asked, "Is it completely done?"
"Yeah, it's ready," Arthur nodded firmly. He and Charlie had already exchanged secure contact information yesterday afternoon. The remaining ten thousand dollars in final payment would be promptly settled after Charlie personally inspected the finished work.
"Lyle, I'm heading back to my place first," Arthur said, zipping his tool bag shut. "Tell Charlie for me that if there is absolutely anything he's not entirely satisfied with regarding the performance, he can contact me to keep modifying it."
With Arthur's current, supernaturally enhanced physical fitness, staying up to work intensely all night actually had almost absolutely no negative effect on his stamina. However, his specific job here was done. Charlie wasn't currently here, and Arthur logically knew the paranoid mastermind wouldn't easily pull an unfamiliar, untested person into his inner circle. So, if he truly wanted to join Charlie's legendary team... Arthur still desperately needed a golden opportunity to prove his loyalty and necessity!
Lyle was clearly exhausted to his core; he couldn't stop yawning as he nodded sluggishly in agreement. "I got it, man. I'll tell Charlie."
"Good. Here's my encrypted email address and contact number," Arthur said, sliding a card across the hood. "When you have some free time, I'd really like to learn some advanced [Computing] skills from you."
Although Lyle primarily wanted to enjoy the romantic favor of beautiful girls, he was still quite visibly pleased and flattered by Arthur's genuine professional compliment. He nodded with a tired but bright smile. "No problem at all. As long as it's directly related to computers or networks, I definitely know a thing or two."
So, after safely exchanging contact information, Arthur soon hopped onto his roaring, ticking vintage motorcycle and headed straight through the waking streets toward his rented apartment.
After returning to his quiet place, he checked the entryway carefully. After absolutely confirming that the few small, invisible markers he had left previously to detect intruders hadn't been touched, Arthur simply ate a quick, heavy meal, took a scalding hot shower to wash off the warehouse grime, and fell directly into a deep, dreamless sleep.
What Arthur didn't know was that while he was sleeping soundly...
Miles away, in a pristine, brightly lit Locksmith Company in downtown Los Angeles, Charlie Croker was currently standing face-to-face with a breathtaking blonde beauty. The walls around them were lined with thousands of gleaming keys, complex tumblers, and heavy steel vault mechanisms.
"Stella, I know you really don't want to see me right now," Charlie said, his voice unusually soft, carrying the heavy weight of lingering guilt. "But I absolutely had to come see you in person and tell you one crucial thing: I finally found him."
Stella Bridger, a classic, stunningly beautiful blonde, stood behind the polished glass counter. She looked directly at Charlie, her knuckles turning white as she gripped a brass lock cylinder, desperately suppressing her boiling anger. Her beautiful face was terrifyingly cold.
"Who?" she demanded, her voice a sharp, icy whisper.
Charlie knew perfectly well that Stella still deeply, bitterly hated him for inadvertently causing her beloved father's violent death in the snow a year ago. She was the only daughter of his murdered old friend, John Bridger, the most famous and highly respected locksmith expert in all of Los Angeles.
Stella ran this prestigious Locksmith Company; she possessed the supernatural, inherited talent to flawlessly open almost any ancient mechanical or modern electronic lock found on the global market. Even massive, multi-ton steel safes, and even some highly classified models of bank vaults. Stella could effortlessly open them all! Of course, strictly provided the job was completely legal.
Charlie held her furious gaze. "I found Steve. He's right here in Los Angeles right now."
He stepped closer to the counter, his tone hardening into absolute, unwavering resolve. "Hiding comfortably right under our noses. It's absolutely no wonder I couldn't find a single trace of him in various European countries over the past year or so. He's now aggressively going by the fake alias 'Frazelli' and living like a king in a remote, heavily fortified luxury mansion."
"According to some highly reliable intelligence I've recently gathered, the vast majority of that ton of gold he violently stole from us last year should still be safely locked in his hands."
Charlie paused, letting the heavy reality of the gold settle in the quiet shop before delivering his final plea.
"Stella, I'm going to go to him for my revenge. And to get it... I desperately need your help."