"I'm sorry, sir."
"Our boss has matters to attend to and is not in the office."
"Also, we are not hiring."
Inside the lobby of Bridger Safe & Vault, Hunter hadn't expected to be shut down so quickly.
He had barely stated his intention before the receptionist cut him off with a firm refusal.
He didn't even get a glimpse of Stella Bridger.
"Alright."
Hunter saw the receptionist's hand hovering over the phone, clearly ready to dial 911 at a mont's notice.
Keeping a polite smile on his face, he turned and left.
As a country with deeply entrenched racial issues, the United States often operated on an unspoken hierarchy. Whether a "Black Lives Matter" movent would arise in this parallel world was unknown to Hunter.
But one thing was certain: in this Arica, the social pecking order placed whites at the top, followed by Latinos and Blacks. Asians, unfortunately, were often at the bottom of the discrimination chain.
Hunter had been in this world for almost two months. Even though he spent most of his ti in Chinatown, he had encountered his fair share of subtle—and sotis overt—discrimination.
However, Hunter wasn't like the "bananas"—yellow on the outside, white on the inside—who desperately tried to act Arican. He knew who he was.
So when he faced this kind of treatnt, he simply viewed it with the detached calm of a Chinese national encountering rudeness abroad.
It also ant that when the ti ca to screw over these Aricans, Hunter felt absolutely zero guilt.
Leaving Bridger Safe & Vault, Hunter got back into his car and drove toward Lyle's apartnt.
Hunter knew Steve wasn't the type to give up easily.
Although Hunter hadn't opened the safes yet and couldn't confirm the gold was inside, the safes themselves were proof enough of value.
They were Worthington 1000s, the flagship model from the top US security firm. Each safe cost over three hundred thousand dollars.
That was why Hunter hadn't blasted them open. The safes alone were a fortune.
Moreover, Steve wouldn't put worthless junk inside a three-hundred-thousand-dollar vault. The missing ton of gold had to be in there.
Steve had lost tens of millions of dollars. It would be weirder if he wasn't going crazy.
While at Bridger Safe & Vault, Hunter had used a bit of probing dialogue.
He was now certain that the receptionist couldn't contact Stella. Furthermore, Stella hadn't shown up to work for over a day.
Hunter had tailed Stella before. He knew her habits.
The beautiful safecracker was a workaholic. Even when she was scouting Steve's villa with Charlie's team, she insisted on stopping by her office daily.
For her to vanish for a full day without notice ant sothing was wrong.
"Did Steve kidnap her?"
In the original plot of The Italian Job, Stella posed as a cable technician to infiltrate Steve's villa. Because of her beauty and her knack for finding the safe, Steve beca suspicious. He invited her out on a date and eventually tricked her into revealing her identity.
In the original story, Steve didn't know Stella initially. But he definitely knew that John Bridger—the man he killed—had a daughter.
Hunter had previously asked Dom to look into the local locksmith scene, and Dom had easily found Bridger Safe & Vault.
If Dom could find her, Steve certainly could too.
"Looks like stealing the gold triggered a butterfly effect."
Stella being kidnapped this early was a massive deviation from the plot.
Hunter quickly realized this was the consequence of his interference.
Stella couldn't die yet. Not before Hunter learned her skills.
It wasn't that he was desperate to date her. It was her [Lockpicking] ability.
She could open a Worthington 1000—a top-tier, $300,000 safe—in minutes without damaging it. That skill was priceless to Hunter right now.
He needed to confirm her status.
If Steve really had kidnapped her, Hunter would have to find a way to get her out. Or at least ensure Charlie rescued her alive.
Hunter drove quickly to Lyle's apartnt. He had visited the hacker frequently to learn computer skills, so he knew the address well.
He parked and rang the doorbell. No answer.
He rang it again. Still nothing.
Hunter had a hunch. He pulled out his phone and called Lyle.
The phone rang for a while, then disconnected.
Monts later, an email popped up in Hunter's inbox.
It was from Lyle.
"Busy right now. Will contact you later."
"Just as I thought."
Hunter's suspicion was all but confird. Lyle wasn't just "busy"; the team was likely in crisis mode.
Hunter thought for a mont, then typed a reply.
"Sure, handle your business. I ca by to ask about so coding issues, but I'll visit another day."
He started the car again. After a mont of deliberation, he drove straight back to Dom's house.
Steve was ruthless, and he had a private army.
That night at the villa, Hunter had been shot at with automatic AKs.
In the gun-loving US, many households owned firearms. But most were civilian semi-automatics bought from Walmart or gun stores.
The military-grade automatic rifles Steve's n used proved one thing: Steve was not to be trifled with.
If Hunter was going to clash with him, he needed to be prepared.
His life was precious, and he had a bright future ahead of him. He wasn't going to throw it away by being under-equipped.
Arriving back at the Toretto house, Hunter drove directly to the rear garage and honked the horn.
The sound alerted the occupants.
Dom erged from the side door. He instantly recognized the Ford Mustang he had gifted Hunter.
"Back so soon?"
Dom asked, surprised. Hunter had left just this morning implying he needed days to prepare.
"Ran into a little trouble."
Hunter got out of the car and stepped closer, lowering his voice.
"I need weapons. Sothing for self-defense."
Dom frowned slightly. He stared at Hunter intensely for a mont, assessing the situation.
Finally, he nodded and whispered.
"Follow ."
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