2025-04-08BankRob #1Turf #1📅 Date: 4/7/2025Turf #2Turf #3Roleplay #1while i was chilling leaning in the rebel bar my phone rang it was a private guy we deal with from time to time he told me there’s a high target a vip with a big price on his head i asked him how much he said 500,000$ and just hung up a few seconds later i got a message with the location and all the details i got up grabbed my keys headed straight to my burrito everything was ready in the back ropes bag and some tools i drove to the vip’s spot he was leaving a private villa with a driver and one bodyguard i waited for the right moment blocked the car in a side street threw a flash and dragged the vip out before anyone even reacted bag on his head tossed him in the back and drove off clean took him to an abandoned spot we use in the industrial zone tied him up sat in front of him watching him panic i didn’t care didn’t say a word started doing my thing ended him cold no second thoughts guy was a rat i don’t feel bad called the contact said it’s done he just replied “good” and hung up thirty minutes later boom 500k in my account before i left i checked the files he had on him turns out he was a major dealer working behind the scenes setting people up moving product with dirty cops now it all made sense i didn’t waste the body i contacted helvete told them i got a fresh one they sent a guy picked it up fast clean deal no questions asked got some extra cash from that too after that i drove back to the rebel base like nothing ever happened sat back at the bar lit a smoke as if it was just another normal night rebel secret service work done no guilt no noise just resultsView Album 📷Roleplay #2I was just doing my usual thing, changing oil on the rebel base’s helicopters and aircrafts, making sure everything was running smooth. It’s not glamorous, but someone’s gotta keep these birds in the air. I was checking the oil on one of the helis when I noticed something strange—smoke. Coming from one of the aircrafts in the hangar. I knew right away that it had overheated. Something was off, and the oil definitely needed changing. I didn’t waste a second. I ran straight to the oil storage down below, grabbed a fresh batch, and headed back to the aircraft. I could already see the engine cooling down. Got to work fast, drained the old oil, and poured in the fresh stuff. Smoke started clearing up, everything started looking good. But I wasn’t done. I took a quick walk to the helicopter, checked the oil there too—didn’t want any surprises later. Changed its oil, double-checked the system, and it was all good to go. Got back to the hangar, made sure everything was locked up, and that was it. Small job. Quick fix. But it’s those little things that keep the operation running.View Album 📷Roleplay #3I got a phone call from a big mafia leader, a deep voice on the other end. He said he wanted to meet me. No details, just meet him. Something felt off, but I didn’t hesitate. I grabbed my bike, no backup, no one to cover my back, just me. I rode out to the casino he mentioned. The air felt tense, like I was walking into a trap, but I kept going. I smelled betrayal from the start. I pulled up, looked around—no one was there. I walked in, the whole place was empty, no sign of anyone. I started checking corners, moving through the casino, feeling more exposed with each step. Then I heard it—a sound I’ll never forget—the beep of a cop's phone. The unmistakable notification. I didn’t think twice. I bolted out, ran to my bike, fired it up, and got the hell out of there fast. No time to think, just action. Rode back to the base, heart pounding, but the questions stuck with me. Who called the cops? Why was I the target? Who was behind this move? Once I got to the base, I wasn’t gonna sit still. I grabbed my burner phone and started making calls, trying to track down who the hell wanted to fuck with me. Someone out there had a plan, and I was gonna figure it out—no matter how deep I had to go.View Album 📷Roleplay #4The rebel base was running low on essentials—fuel, oil, drugs, and beer. Without these supplies, our operations would grind to a halt. Taking matters into my own hands, I decided to handle the procurement personally, minimizing the risk of interference. First Stop: The Rebel Farm I fired up my truck, the engine rumbling to life, and set off toward the rebel farm—a known stash point for our illicit goods. The journey was uneventful, the road stretching out before me under the cover of night. Arriving at the farm, I parked discreetly and approached the hidden storage area—a dilapidated barn that had seen better days. Inside, concealed beneath loose floorboards, were barrels of our prized product. I loaded as many as I could into the truck, ensuring each barrel was securely fastened to prevent any spillage during transit. Second Stop: The Green Bottle Tavern With the truck now heavier, I navigated the familiar routes to the Green Bottle Tavern—a local watering hole that doubled as a distribution point for our operations. The tavern's backroom was often used to store cases of beer and other contraband. Inside, I found the crates labeled with our insignia. I carefully loaded them into the truck, taking note of any irregularities or signs of tampering. Trust was scarce, and every detail mattered. Return to Base The drive back to the base was tense, each passing vehicle a potential threat. I kept to the less-traveled paths, avoiding main roads where checkpoints were more likely. Upon arrival, I unloaded the truck, ensuring each item was stored in its designated location. The fuel and oil were secured in the storage tanks, the drugs hidden in their usual compartments, and the beer stocked in the fridge for morale. Reflection This operation, though routine, underscored the delicate balance we maintained. One misstep, one leak, and our entire network could be compromised. As I locked the storage doors, I couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching, waiting for us to falter. But for now, the base was supplied, and our mission continued.View Album 📷Roleplay #5I fire up the burrito and leave the base, the engine’s purr cutting through the still night air. The factory I’ve been eyeing for weeks now stands ahead, its shadowy form barely visible against the moonlit sky. I keep the speed steady, maneuvering through the streets with precision, my thoughts focused solely on the task ahead. The plan’s been in my head for days, but now, it’s all about execution. I pull up near the factory, parking the burrito just out of sight, where it’s most inconspicuous. I slip out, making sure not a single sound betrays my presence. The guards are predictable, and the security’s been mapped out. The denamet is within reach. I move quickly, grabbing the chemicals and carefully stashing them in the burrito’s trunk. Everything’s going according to plan. With my objective secured, I sprint back to the burrito, adrenaline kicking in. The engine roars as I shift into gear, burning rubber as I head back toward the base. The night feels tense, though—I know I’m not out of the woods yet.View Album 📷Roleplay #6The sun's setting as I slide into my gear, the weight of the mission heavy on my chest. A brother is locked up, and in the rebel cause, we don’t leave anyone behind. This is a scouting mission, but it’s the calm before the storm. I rev the engine of my bike, the roar barely a whisper in the quiet night. I weave through the city’s darkened streets, heading toward the prison. The tension builds as I approach the outskirts. I slow down, switching to stealth mode. No need to attract attention yet. I park the bike a few blocks away, hidden in the shadows. The prison looms ahead, a cold, imposing structure, but it’s not the walls that matter. It's what's inside. My brother’s in there, and I need to know how to get him out. I start my perimeter check, my eyes scanning every corner, every shadow. I can see the security cameras, their blinking red lights signaling their constant watch. I count them silently in my head, plotting their locations on an invisible map. The guards are a different story—there’s more of them than I expected. I count the officers standing at their posts, tracking their movements. Two near the main gate, three more by the secondary entrance. It's a lot for a small-scale operation like mine. I make sure to stay in the cover of darkness, keeping my distance as I gather the intel. Cameras, officers, their routines... I need to know everything before the real mission begins. Once I’ve gathered all the intel I need, I turn my bike around and head back to base. The ride back is quiet, the engine purring steadily beneath me. As I approach base, the weight of what’s next presses down on me. Arriving at base, I cut the engine and step off the bike, my mind already racing through the next steps. How can we minimize the risk? I think to myself. Do we need more men, or is it just about timing? The guards and cameras are more numerous than expected, but there’s a way in. There always is. I know it’ll be a delicate operation, but I’m determined. We’ll do this right. We have to.View Album 📷Roleplay #7The night was quiet as I returned to base, my thoughts still focused on the prison and the mission ahead. But fate had other plans. As I walked through the gates, I noticed an unfamiliar figure leaning against a weathered wall. He was an older man, his expression calm but distant, like someone caught between worlds. The more I looked at him, the more something felt familiar. It clicked. This wasn’t just anyone—this was an old officer who used to be with the rebels, part of the crew. We never left a brother behind, so I approached, my mind buzzing with questions. We exchanged a few words, and then he spoke up. “With all the knowledge of weapon smuggling, underground tobacco… I got an offer from the ATF,” he said, a faraway look in his eyes. “It was my way to get out of the criminal world. I needed to keep my family safe.” I couldn’t help but ask, “Why would you leave the crime side and the rebels? After everything we’ve been through?” He took a deep breath before answering. “Because I have federal protection now. My family can live an anonymous life. And if I die serving the San Andreas Government, there’s a pension plan, a money fund for them.” I nodded. It made sense, in a way. The law might protect him, but it was a dangerous game he played. “Don’t you think there are still a lot of gangs out there that will make your life worse, chasing you down?” He gave a slow nod, his eyes serious. “Yes, but with the protection I have, I can keep them away. My family’s safe, and that’s all I care about now.” I couldn’t help but admire his thinking. It was practical, even if it wasn’t the life I chose. “Great thinking,” I said, then pulled out a cigar and offered it to him. He took it, lighting it with a flick of his lighter. I watched him for a moment before asking, “So, how do you feel about the rebels now? What’s your take on us?” He puffed slowly on the cigar, his eyes clouded with memories. “To be honest, I don’t know any of them anymore. But I know you all are good guys. Back then, being part of the brotherhood, the club... it meant something. A lot of good memories.” He smiled, faintly. “I still have the bike, but I rarely use it anymore.” Curiosity piqued, I asked, “What was the name of your bike?” He chuckled, almost as if reminiscing about a long-lost friend. “I never gave it a personal name. It was just called the 'Freeway.' But you know what? I’ll show you it. I was just riding it here.” He motioned for me to follow. We walked over to where his bike was parked. The 'Freeway' was a machine of its own, its weathered frame telling stories of countless rides. I glanced at it and commented, “It looks awesome, but old. I noticed something in the engine though.” He shrugged, not worried. “It’s been a while since I’ve really ridden it. What do you think?” I took a closer look, spotting a few small issues in the engine. Without hesitation, I offered to help. I worked my hands on the parts, tightening a few screws, making some adjustments. When I finished, I handed him back the keys. He revved the engine, and it roared to life with more power than I expected. “Nice work,” he said, a grin crossing his face. “It’s running a lot better now.” “Well, you’ve still got it,” I said, stepping back. He nodded, tossing me a final glance. “Anyways, I gotta go. Thanks for the help.” He climbed onto the 'Freeway' and revved it one last time. The bike’s engine purred as he took off, disappearing into the night. “Good luck,” I muttered under my breath as he rode off. I watched until the sound of the bike faded, knowing that we had both walked different paths. But we were still brothers, no matter where life had taken us.View Album 📷Roleplay #8As I drove near the base, I heard the sound of a bike engine. I followed the noise and found a rebel bike hidden in a bush, marked with the rebel design. The bike was abandoned, covered in dirt, with scrapes and dents as if it had been left in a hurry. There were no tracks, just faint skidding tire marks. Something wasn’t right. I lifted the bike and tried calling the rider, but the phone went to voicemail. I knew something had gone wrong. I couldn't leave it like this. I called SWT. “I need you here now. Bring a van to pick up this bike,” I said. He showed up fast, skidding to a stop beside me. “What’s going on?” he asked, looking at the bike. “I’ll explain on the way,” I said, helping load the bike into his van. We jumped on our bikes and headed back to base. Once we got back, I parked the bike. “We’ll grab his ride later,” I said, trying to stay calm. I told SWT about the bike, the damage, and the strange silence. “Whoever was riding this is in trouble,” I said. SWT rubbed his chin. “We need to go back and check for more clues. Something’s off.” We agreed to head back later. Whatever was happening, it wasn’t just a random disappearance. It was personal now.View Album 📷Roleplay #9📅 Date: 4/7/2025I was chilling at the Rebels base when I overheard one of the bartenders from the Green Bottle say he had just brewed a fresh, new type of liquor. Since the Green Bottle belongs to the Rebels, I knew this could be a golden business opportunity. I grabbed my Burrito van and headed straight there. Before walking into the bar, I lit up a cigar—Rebels style—and stepped in to check out the new product. The guy handed me a bottle to test, and man, it was smooth—real top-shelf stuff. Without wasting time, I loaded 4 boxes of the liquor into the van. Two of my bodyguards rolled with me for security and to help with the drop. When we reached Alhambra, I stayed outside to handle the deal while the two bodyguards carefully carried the boxes inside. I pitched the new liquor to the staff—they tasted it and were impressed. We got into payment talk, settled the deal, and once I had the cash in my hand, I lit up another cigar, hopped in the van, and cruised back to base. Another clean and smooth hustle for the Rebels.View Album 📷📊 Total Activities: 13BankRob: 1 Turf: 3 Roleplay: 9
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