A Train To East Los Santos is the 22nd mission in Grand Theft Auto: King of The Hill.
It is the second mission given to Miklos Lipton by Alan Nazarian.
It's the 4th mission in Chapter III: Can't Buy Me Love.
Plot
Nazarian's Apartment
Izzy: So... what about a quick drink? At least that, huh?
Miklos: No.
Izzy: Killjoy.
The Caracara pulls into the cracked and dimly lit parking lot outside Nazarian's apartment building. Miklos slows as they near a sleek, nondescript sedan parked just off to the side, its black paint and tinted windows gleaming under the flickering streetlight. Izzy leans forward in his seat, squinting at the car, then suddenly tenses.
Izzy: Shit. That's an unmarked cruiser.
Miklos glances at the sedan, then at Izzy.
Miklos: You sure?
Izzy: Oh, I'm sure. That's gotta be Kirk and Danny. Corrupt LSPD bastards. Harmless enough if you grease their palms.
Miklos doesn't bother responding, slamming the truck door and heading toward the building. Izzy lags behind, still wringing water from his blazer. As they pass the cruiser, its doors open almost simultaneously. Captain Kirk O'Hara climbs out first, his stocky frame barely contained by his crisp uniform, followed by Sergeant Danny North, wiry and chewing gum obnoxiously. They saunter toward Miklos and Izzy with the swagger of men who know they hold the upper hand.
Kirk: Well, well, well. What do we have here?
Danny smirks, his sharp features lit by the dim glow of the parking lot.
Danny: Fancy truck for a guy I've never seen before. You got a name, fancy suit?
Miklos stands firm, his expression stone-cold. He doesn't answer, putting his hand dangerously close to his waistband where his gun waits. The silence hangs heavy for a moment, and Kirk tilts his head, stepping closer with an air of intimidation.
Kirk: Cat got your tongue? I asked you a question, pal.
Izzy quickly steps forward, throwing on his usual cocky grin to defuse the tension.
Izzy: Relax, Cap. He's cool. This is my boy, uh... Bob. He's new in town, just helping me out with some business for my uncle. Moving furniture...
Kirk squints at Miklos, clearly not buying the excuse but deciding not to push it. He turns his attention back to Izzy.
Kirk: Is that so? Funny, doesn't seem like the kind of guy who just helps out.
Danny: Definitely looks like someone who's up to something.
Izzy: You know me, boys. I keep my crew in line. Uncle Alan wouldn't let me run wild, you know that.
Kirk studies Miklos for another beat, then snorts and steps back slightly, though the tension lingers.
Kirk: Good. Keep him in line, Izzy. You don't want him to become a name we remember for the wrong reasons.
Danny spits his gum onto the ground and smirks.
Danny: Anyway, we're done here for now. Alan paid us, so we're good... for now.
Kirk: Let's move.
The two officers climb back into their car, but not before Kirk leans out the window, pointing at Miklos.
Kirk: Stay out of trouble, "Bob."
Miklos: Just fuck off.
The cruiser pulls away, its taillights vanishing into the night. Miklos finally exhales, his jaw tight.
Izzy: You're welcome, Mik.
Miklos: Don't start.
They take the elevator Nazarian's third floor apartment, pushing through the door to find Alan lounging at his cluttered desk, a cigar smoldering in his hand. He looks up as they enter.
Miklos: What did the pigs want?
Nazarian: Aw, shit, Miklos. Nothing special. Just their usual payola.
Miklos: We don't march to cops' drums, Alan.
Nazarian: Hey, I don't like it either, but if I didn't toss those assholes a couple grand now and then, I would've ended up in jail a looooong time ago. 'Sides, they gave me a little info for my trouble.
Miklos: Well, what did they tell you?
Nazarian: That three of my dealers are backstabbing, lying, traitor bitch dogs. Puerto Rican fucks who said the Triads ripped us off. Turns out, they swiped that meth bag themselves.
Miklos: Wait, wait, wait... Are you telling me the Triads didn't steal it?
Nazarian: Yes... It seems it wasn't them after all.
Miklos: Crissakes Alan! I just burned down a Triad leader's office because of you!
Nazarian: Alright, alright, let's not dwell on that now. Shit happens, and we've got other shit to deal with. First things first, we need to go deal with those dealers. Come on. You too, nephew.
Miklos glares at him, his anger still simmering, but says nothing as he follows Alan toward the door, Izzy trailing behind with his usual grin.
Puerto Del Sol
Izzy: Relax, Mik. This'll be fun.
Nazarian: Alright, we need to go to Puerto Del Sol Station in Little Seoul, that's where those three fucks will be by now.
Miklos: And question those dealers a little? Sure. Let's teach them that screwing with the Lipton Gang isn't worthwhile.
Nazarian: Yeah, you do that, while I teach 'em not to mess with Alan Nazarian.
The Caracara roars through the streets, pulling into a side lot near the train station. The distant hum of train engines and the buzz of pedestrians fill the air as Alan gives directions. They park and head toward the platform. Across the tracks, three dealers in baggy clothes and hoodies loiter near a bench, their body language casual but guarded. Alan strides forward confidently, with Miklos and Izzy flanking him.
Nazarian: Hello, boys!
Dealer #1: Wassup, Al?
Nazarian: It's Mr. Nazarian to you, mex. So, how's business lately?
Dealer #2: What's this about? Holmes, you could've just called.
Nazarian: I prefer face-to-face chats. And it's Mr. Nazarian to you as well, "holmes". Now, tell me, how's business been since the "unfortunate turn of events"?
Dealer #1: Aw, shit, man. Not too good, Mr. Nazarian. See, we got ripped off again...
Miklos steps forward, his sharp eyes locking on to the third dealer, who's nervously fingering a small plastic baggie of meth in his pocket.
Miklos: What's that, then?
Dealer #2: FUCK, IDIOT! PUT THAT AWAY!
Dealer #3: Huh? Whuh, what? Oh, yeah...
Nazarian: You should start explaining yourselves, boys. Lying to your employer twice in such a short period isn't just rude, it's stupid.
Dealer #1: Fuck you, old man! We bust our asses while you pay us scraps. We're gonna join the Vagos now!
Nazarian: You sons of bitches. After all I've done for you, I'll fuckin-
Before Alan can respond, the loud rumble of an approaching train drowns him out. The dealers bolt, leaping onto the train just as it pulls into the station.
Nazarian: HEY! I'M NOT FINISHED WITH YOU!
The train starts moving, the dealers disappearing into one of the cars. Miklos spots a nearby Akuma leaning against the wall and gestures to Izzy.
Miklos: Your boys are getting away. Get on the bike!
Nazarian: Yes! Get those fuckers!
The Chase
Miklos and Izzy roar after the train on the Akuma, weaving through traffic as Izzy clings to Miklos's back.
Izzy: They're headed to East LS!
Miklos: Trains don't go to East LS, genius.
Izzy: East, West, South, whatever! Just step on it!
The chase winds through the city, eventually reaching Davis, where the dealers leap off the train and scatter into an alley.
Izzy: Don't lose 'em, Mik! These guys are slippery!
Miklos: They won't get far.
Miklos cuts the bike hard into an alley, skidding to a stop. He jumps off, signaling for Izzy to follow as he sprints after the dealers. The narrow passages echo with the sound of pounding footsteps and heavy breaths. The main one trips over a trash can, and Miklos is on him in seconds, pinning him to the ground with his Desert Eagle in his face.
Miklos: Got you.
The other dealers round a corner, only to stop dead in their tracks as Izzy steps out from a side passage, brandishing an SMG. The two freeze, realizing they're caught. Miklos drags the talkative one to his feet, slamming him against a wall, his tone ice-cold as he addresses all three.
Miklos: So, you think it's smart to screw over Alan Nazarian? Lie to him? Steal from him? Well let me tell you, when you fuck with Nazarian, you fuck with me!
Dealer #1: Look, man, we were desperate, okay? It wasn't personal—
Miklos: Oh, it's personal now. You're lucky I don't kill you right now.
Dealer #2: Okay, okay! We'll give it back. We'll do whatever he wants!
Miklos: Not enough. You're going to march back to him, face-to-face, and apologize. You're going to beg for his forgiveness and promise never to pull this shit again. Your little lie may have caused a gang war with the fucking Triads!
The guy looks at his partners, who exchange uneasy glances before nodding hesitantly. Dropping to their knees.
Dealer #1: Alright, man. We'll do it. We're sorry. We'll make it right.
Miklos: You better mean it. Because if I have to come after you again, I won't be this nice.
The remaining dealers scatter, disappearing into the night. Miklos and Izzy regroup, both breathing heavily.
Nazarian's Apartment
The trio follows Miklos and Izzy back to Alan's apartment. Alan is seated at his desk, puffing on a cigar, his expression unreadable as the dealers shuffle in, heads low. Izzy tosses the meth bag onto the desk.
Izzy: Got it! This stuff's worth serious cash.
Nazarian: Well, well. Looks like the prodigal sons return.
Dealer #1: We're sorry, Mr. Nazarian. We... we fucked up.
Dealer #2: It won't happen again.
Dealer #3: We promise. We'll work harder, for real this time.
Alan leans back in his chair, exhaling a cloud of smoke as he studies them.
Nazarian: Damn right it won't. Because if it does, you'll be begging me to deal with you instead of Miklos here.
The dealers nod quickly, murmuring more apologies before Alan waves them off. They practically trip over themselves leaving the apartment.
Nazarian: It's hard to find good help these days. Everyone's so goddamn greedy in this business.
Miklos: Maybe because you don't pay them enough.
Nazarian: Hey, fathers have expenses. I take care of my dealers like they're my kids.
Miklos: According to them, you're not giving them much of an allowance. Double it now.
Alan laughs, waving him off nodding.
Nazarian: Alright, alright I will... Enough about that. Thanks for the help today.
The tension in the room has eased after the dealers' forced apology. Alan leans back in his chair, puffing on his cigar, while Miklos stands by the window, deep in thought. Izzy, ever the restless one, paces the room shadow boxing poorly, his grin growing wider as an idea forms. Running into the next room, he returns with a box of black spray cans.
Izzy: Look, Mik, most of LS doesn't know there's a new King in town. You need to make a statement.
Miklos: What are you suggesting?
Izzy: I'm saying, let's make it loud and clear. Morningwood's ours, right? So, we hit the streets and tag it up! "Lipton Gang" on every corner. Let the city know who's in charge.
Nazarian: Not a bad idea, nephew. Go paint the town, Miklos. Literally.
Miklos: Fine. But if we're doing this, we're doing it right.
Izzy: That's what I'm talking about! Let's hit Morningwood and make it ours.
Morningwood
The Caracara cruises around Morningwood, the streets bustling with late-night life. Miklos parks the truck in a quiet alley, grabbing the spray can as Izzy bounces out, practically buzzing with excitement.
Izzy: Alright, this is a sick spot. Perfect for our first tag.
Miklos rolls his eyes but nods, moving to a brick wall near a streetlamp. With precise movements, he sprays "Lipton Gang" in bold, striking letters, the black paint glistening under the light.
The two move through Morningwood, leaving their mark on walls, fences, and even a billboard. Miklos keeps it quick and clean, while Izzy adds his flair, laughing as he tags a garbage dumpster with an exaggerated crown over the "Lipton Gang" name.
Miklos: Where next?
Izzy: Rob's Liquor. Let's make sure everyone sees it.
The Caracara idles outside Rob's Liquor on Prosperity Street, a dingy store but the heart of Morningwood where everyone comes. Aperfect place to leave their final mark. Miklos steps out, spray can in hand, while Izzy leans against the truck, scanning the area with a mischievous grin.
Izzy: That's the money shot, Mik. Everyone from Morningwood to Del Perro's gonna see this one.
Miklos walks up to the wall, shaking the can as the ball rattles inside. He pauses, glancing around to make sure the coast is clear, then starts spraying in bold, confident strokes.
The letters come to life in deep black: "Lipton Gang". Beneath it, he adds a simple crown, its pointed tips standing tall over the name. It's sharp, clean, and unmistakable.
Miklos: Oh, I'm a real artist by heart. I even amaze myself.
Izzy: Hell yeah, it will! This spot's perfect. Every drunk stumbling outta here's gonna know who owns Morningwood.
Miklos tosses the empty spray can into a nearby dumpster, his demeanor calm but satisfied. He turns to Izzy, motioning toward the truck.
Miklos: Let's roll. We've done enough for tonight.
The next mission, My Hero, is now unlocked.
Rewards
- Side Mission Unlocked: Spray Tags
Objectives
- Head to Puerto Del Sol Station
- Chase down the escaping train
- Stop the dealers from getting away
- Retrieve the stolen meth bag
- Return Nazarian's apartment
- Spray Tags around Morningwood
Gold Medal Objectives
Handling It - Avoid crashing your bike during the chase. Three for Three - Catch all three dealers before they escape. Territorial Mark - Tag at least three prominent locations in Morningwood
|