“Shhhhhit... Alright... let's get all sneaky and murderous.” |
Labor Shortage is the 10th mission in Grand Theft Auto: King of The Hill, given to Miklos Lipton by Devin Weston.
Plot
Miklos pulls up to the extravagant black gates of Devin Weston's mansion. The place radiates opulence even from the outside, a sleek two-story modern marvel of red and white perched on the hills overlooking Los Santos. The high-tech gates hum faintly, a mechanical barrier to a world of unimaginable wealth. Miklos steps out of his Baller, taking a moment to absorb the luxury before two guards approach.
Guard: Yes? State your business.
Miklos: Umm... Mr. Weston is expecting me. I'm Miklos Lipton.
One guard raises a hand, signaling Miklos to wait. The other heads up the long driveway toward the mansion. Minutes pass as Miklos shifts on his feet, glancing up at the sprawling estate that seems to taunt him with its unattainable grandeur.
The guard returns, holding a sealed envelope.
Guard: Mr. Weston is occupied, but he told me to give you this.
He hands Miklos the envelope through the gates and steps away without another word. Miklos steps back into his Baller, annoyed, tearing open the envelope. Inside is a letter written in Devin Weston's unmistakably pompous tone.
Dear Lipton, I could never spell your first name if I tried.
If you're reading this, it means I'm far too busy (and important) to meet you in person for a chit-chat. Therefore, I give you the instructions of your next assignment via this letter; I have a task that's perfect for someone of your... capabilities.
My butler, David, you know, the guy who keeps my freaking HUGE house running smoothly, has been acting suspicious lately. And not in a "quirky but harmless" way. He's been going back and forth during the last few days, leaving work early, going to a barber every day, and sneaking around like he's in some low-budget spy flick. Y'know, strange stuff.
I need you to keep an eye on him. Follow him. Find out where he's going, and if necessary, deal with him. And by "deal with," you know what I mean. Kill him if necessary.
XOX, ~Devin Weston.
Miklos exhales, crumpling the letter slightly before smoothing it out again. He parks his Baller discreetly near the mansion and waits. The sun begins to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows over the hills, as Miklos keeps his eyes glued to the entrance.
Miklos: Butler... butler... What does a butler even look like?
Not long after, a man emerges, dressed sharply in a black suit and white gloves, and gets into his car. That's gotta be David. Miklos starts his engine, staying a safe distance behind as the butler drives through Banham Canyon and into Los Santos. The journey twists and turns, taking Miklos through busy city streets and eventually into the industrial maze of the Port of South LS.
David parks near a large, unmarked boathouse and steps out, glancing around nervously. Miklos kills his headlights and pulls into the shadows, watching closely as the butler disappears inside the building. The faint sound of waves lapping against the docks fills the air, as Miklos slips out of his truck and follows him.
Miklos edges closer to the boathouse, staying in the shadows as he slips inside. The air smells of saltwater and oil, and the faint echo of voices carries across the cavernous space. He ducks behind a stack of crates, peering out to see Weston's butler, David, speaking with a man surrounded by armed henchmen. The man, dressed sharply but with a dangerous air, paces as he talks.
The Man: I hope you've made up your fucking mind already. These meetings are starting to annoy me.
David: Alright... Last time, you offered $300,000. But since I'm so valuable to you... I say $500,000, and I'll do it!
The Man stops pacing, his eyes narrowing at the demand, before letting out a low chuckle.
Derrington: Tough price, but fine. I want some progress already. The plan clear?
David: Yes, Mr. Derrington. In two days, at midnight, I'll let you and your men into Mr. Weston's mansion, allowing you to kill him. Once Weston's gone, his shares of Merryweather will go up for sale, and you'll scoop them up.
Derrington: It's a deal then. No backing out now.
David: Wouldn't dream of it.
Derrington: Good. 'Cause otherwise... we'll have to kill ya.
As Derrington speaks, Miklos leans too far into the stack of crates, accidentally knocking a few boxes to the floor with a loud crash.
Miklos: (Whispering) Fuck!
The sudden noise makes everyone freeze. Derrington's sharp gaze snaps toward the noise.
Derrington: What was that?
David: An eavesdropper?
Derrington: Go check it out, boys. I'll handle this another day.
He strides toward a back exit, disappearing into the night.
Miklos curses under his breath as he pulls a combat knife from his belt. Grabbing it, he melts into the shadows as footsteps approach.
Miklos: Shhhhhit... Alright... let's get all sneaky and murderous.
A tense Predator Encounter follows as Miklos uses stealth to eliminate Derrington's henchmen one by one. He moves like a shadow, dispatching them silently with brutal efficiency. Four men lay dead at his feet. When the dust settles, the boathouse is eerily quiet.
David, now panicking, tries to make a run for it, but runs straight into Miklos and ricochets back onto the floor.
David: AGHHH! Wait! Please... please don't kill me. I... I had no choice. They threatened me!
Miklos steps closer, his shadow looming over the terrified butler, a blade dripping with blood at his side.
Miklos: No choice? You were about to sell out your boss for a quick payday. Spare me the sob story.
David drops to his knees, his voice cracking as he pleads.
David: I'll disappear! You'll never see me again! I swear! Just... let me go. Please.
Miklos grips the butler by his tie, pulling him up and into his blade, ending the butler's betrayal for good.
Its not clean. The butler writhes and shivers and splutters everywhere, his hands gripping weakly against Miklos as he tries to fight back. Miklos pulled the blade and stood up, flicking off the blood.
David's chest rose and fell erratically, each shallow breath accompanied by a gut-wrenching crackle as blood escaped through his gushing wound. Blood poured from his mouth in a steady stream, pooling around his head like a halo of crimson.
The life slowly faded from his body as David slumped over, dead.
Miklos stares at him for a long moment, his jaw clenched. He considers the man's words, the fear in his eyes, and the weight of another unnecessary kill.
Miklos: Get out of here. Now. If I ever see your face again, it'll be the last thing you see. Do you understand me? From now on, you are dead.
David nods furiously, scrambling to his feet.
David: Yes! Yes, I swear! Thank you... thank you! You're a good man! A saint!
Without another word, David bolts out of the boathouse, disappearing into the night. Miklos watches him go, exhaling deeply as he flicks the blood off his blade and sheathes it. He feels... relieved.
Breathing heavily, Miklos steps outside covered in blood and pulls out his phone, dialing Devin Weston.
Miklos: You're gonna have to hire a new butler, Mr. Weston. Your one is dead.
Devin: Oh, really? What a shame. David really knew how to make a good bouillabaisse. And why, exactly, did you kill him?
Miklos: He was planning to help some "Derrington" guy kill you and take your Merryweather shares.
Devin: Derrington? The only Derrington I know is Claude Derrington. We do triathlons together. Huh. Now that's fascinating.
Miklos: Fascinating, you say?
Devin: Yes. Fascinating... Namaste, Lipton.
Devin hangs up, leaving Miklos standing alone under the flickering streetlights of the dockyard, crimson colored. The weight of the night's events settling heavily on his shoulders.
Miklos: Namaste...?
Miklos slides his phone back into his pocket, his expression grim as he surveys the aftermath inside the boathouse. The faint stench of blood lingers in the air, mixing with the saltwater breeze coming off the docks. He shakes his head and heads back to his Baller, still parked in the shadows.
As he starts the car, the soft hum of the engine cuts through the quiet night. His dashboard lights flicker to life, and he notices a notification pop up on his phone. $5,000 has been deposited into his account, courtesy of Devin Weston.
Miklos: Five grand... Was it worth it?
He grips the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white. As the adrenaline fades, the events of the night replay in his mind. He exhales sharply and pulls onto the road, heading back toward Thomas' apartment.
By the time Miklos arrives back at Vespucci Beach, the neon glow of the city lights reflects off the damp pavement. He parks his Baller, steps out, and looks up at the modest apartment building. The quiet hum of the ocean in the distance is a stark contrast to the chaos he just left behind.
He enters the apartment, his boots scuffing softly against the floor as he heads straight for the bathroom, chucking his bloody clothes in the washer with almost a ton of cleaner powder. The mirror reflects his weary face, speckled with grime, sweat, and blood. He splashes water on his face, the cold shock snapping him back to the present.
Leaning against the sink, Miklos stares at his reflection, his mind heavy with doubt. He mutters to himself, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Miklos: Five thousand bucks for all that... and for what? Another name, another lie, another body.
After a long pause, he dries his face with a towel and steps out of the bathroom, waking Thomas Lipton, who is sprawled on the couch, watching Weazel News with chip crumbs on his chest.
Thomas: C-cousin... You're back late... Did you finally get Devin Weston to buy you a yacht or something?
Miklos: Heh... Something like that.
Retreating to his room and collapsing on the bed, the faint buzz of his phone in his pocket breaks the silence. Another message from Devin Weston, no doubt with another "opportunity", or probably Perry Harris, wondering when he will accept his "master plan".
He lets it buzz unanswered as he closes his eyes, trying to block out the world for just a moment, though the weight of the night lingers heavily on his shoulders.
The next mission, Spy Among Us, is now unlocked.
Another mission, Ride to Hell, is still available.
Reward
- Monetary Reward: 5000$
- New Weapon: Combat Knife
Objectives
- Park your car near the mansion
- Follow the butler, keep your distance, remain unnoticed
- He's leaving his car, keep following him
- Clear the boathouse of enemies
- Kill or Spare the Butler
Gold Medal Objectives
- Time - Complete in 6:00
- Variety in Killing - Finish the Predator Encounter with 3 unique take downs
Post-Mission Messages
Devin: Miklos! Great work tonight. I've got another opportunity for someone of your... talents. Drop by my place. Big money on the table. Don't keep me waiting.
Perry: Saint! Why haven't you called me yet? We got an empire to build, Miklos! Or are you too busy sucking Weston's balls? Call me back before I come drag you out myself.
Matic: Lipton, are you working with Weston or taking a unplanned holiday? Remember, whatever you do, don't make Merryweather look bad. I don't need another headache on my desk. --Matic
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