1. Novel

  2. The Gate Traveler

  3. B2—Chapter 68: Mechanic Mayhem and a Heist Surprise
The Gate Traveler

B2—Chapter 68: Mechanic Mayhem and a Heist Surprise

In Trinidad, I took a fresh approach to food shopping. Instead of the usual store-hopping or relying on conventional methods, I chose to buy everything from wholesalers. To make this plan a reality, I found a closed restaurant with a living space above and negotiated a two-week rental. I convinced the owner that we were a group of traveling chefs conducting workshops in various cities.

Mahya decided to use the time to gain a skill she thought was important: motorcycle and ATV mechanics. She made up a story that we were going on a motorcycle and ATV trip in Africa and needed the knowledge to take care of the vehicles if there were any problems along the way. Al was not interested in mechanics, so I announced he would be in charge of receiving deliveries while Mahya and I studied. I was already despairing of him. He said he wanted to fill the missing classes, but I didn’t see any interest from him in any field.

I asked him about it, and his answer was that he had not yet found his passion. He said that when he did, he would make the necessary investment.

As I calculated our food needs, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of anticipation. I was especially mindful of the possibility of our group expanding (I still hoped that Lyura would join us). With this in mind, I placed our food orders, ready to accommodate any additions to our team.

I considered ordering seeds to grow food in the future, but I remembered the crates of seeds I’d bought before leaving Earth the first time. I pulled them out and sorted through the contents. There were ten crates each of tomatoes, coffee, and cocoa, along with several more crates filled with mixed seeds for fruits, vegetables, legumes, grains, nuts, and herbs.

Spoiler

Looking at the list I made, I sighed and increased my storage capacity twice more. At least this time, I didn’t get a headache. My ability points dropped below 200; I now only had 199. They were easy to accumulate on Earth, but they also disappeared quickly.

Maybe it would be a good idea to attend some more workshops.

It took me four days to get all the orders placed and conjure up the documents. Meanwhile, Mahya spent that time on the phone, hunting down someone willing to teach us how to become mechanics. She finally found someone, but it cost us—$5,000! Yeah, it was a rip-off, but we didn’t have any other options. We left Al in charge of the deliveries and headed off to learn the trade.

The garage was in the industrial area and reeked of motor oil and rust, a smell that stuck to me no matter how many times I cast Clean. It clung to my clothes, my hair, even my skin. Dave, our teacher, showed Mahya and me the basics of a motorbike engine while we stood listening. His rough voice reverberated all over the garage, which was full of tools, spare parts, and bikes and ATVs in various stages of disassembly.

“First thing you need to know,” Dave announced, wiping his greasy hands on a rag, “is the anatomy of an engine. This here is the carburetor. It mixes air and fuel before sending it into the engine.”

Mahya leaned in, scribbling in her notebook. Now and then, she’d glance at me to make sure I was keeping up. I tried, but Dave bombarded us with a lot of information. Still, I couldn’t help but feel excited. Trying something completely different was hard but, strangely, kinda enjoyable.

The first few days were hard. I was clumsy with the tools, making more mistakes than progress. I was used to the small tools of a doctor, not those monstrosities. At one point, I dropped a wrench deep into the engine, and it took me half an hour to fish it out while Dave laughed at me in the background. Mahya picked it up fast—it was so unfair. By the third day, she was taking apart engines like she’d been doing it all her life, almost keeping pace with Dave.

By the end of the third day, we had the basics down and even got the skill at level one. We could identify parts, knew what they did, and could handle basic repairs. We impressed Dave with our progress. He cracked a smile, which was rare for him. “You two are catching on quicker than most,” he said, tossing Mahya a new set of spark plugs. “Let’s see if you can handle a full engine overhaul.”

The next couple of weeks were a blur of grease, sweat, and lessons. We tackled each challenge Dave threw at us—from changing tires to fixing electrical issues. By the time we left each evening, exhausted and covered in grime, I could feel our skill improving, even if the numbers didn’t show it.

After two and a half weeks, as we were packing up, Dave handed us our last test—a beat-up motorcycle with more problems than I cared to count. “Fix this by the end of the week, and I’ll consider you both good enough mechanics for your trip.”

Mahya and I exchanged a look and smirked. With the skill level at two, we were confident. We threw ourselves into it, and fixed what we could. Faulty wires, busted brakes, and, of course, the carburetor—yeah, I may have cheated with Clean on that to save time, but we kept that between us.

By the last day, the bike was ready. I turned the key, and the engine roared to life, filling the garage with the sound of victory. Dave nodded, impressed. “Well done. You’ve earned it.”

Not only had we learned the ropes, but we had leveled up our mechanic skills to level three, thanks to sheer determination and a lot of hard work. Covered in grease but grinning like idiots, Mahya gave me a high-five, her eyes sparkling with pride.

After we wrapped up our mechanic lessons, Al finally got a break and attended a few workshops. Mahya and I mostly spent the last three days in the city doing the usual rounds of shops, but this time skipping the alcohol and coffee.

On the last night, Al of course, wanted to add adrenalin to our visit to the city—a round of visits to drug dealers. The first two stops were business as usual—or as normal as robbing drug dealers can get—but the third stop was different. We stumbled right into the middle of a big deal.

It was almost three in the morning when we pulled up to an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town. It seemed like nothing had happened in that place for years, which was exactly what we needed. We parked the jeep behind a cluster of trees, exchanged a glance, and activated our Invisibility. Al went ahead, and I trailed behind him to find a good spot to wait. Based on the voices from inside, there were people talking in Spanish and we heard some cursing in a language I thought was Russian, but I wasn’t sure.

They sounded too many, and I didn’t feel right to let Al go alone. Inside, the scene was tense. Two dozen heavily armed thugs stood around, all of them with big rifles. Nearby, a black jeep stood with its engine still running. Shadows danced across the walls as the thugs moved about, all focused on their transaction, completely unaware we were there.

“This surpasses our expectations,” Al sent telepathically, his voice a mix of excitement and caution.

“No kidding,” I replied, scanning the room. “Are you sure it’s a good idea? There are too many of them.”

“Let us utilize the paintball guns.”

I was so relieved I was invisible, sparing me from the embarrassment of anyone seeing me facepalm. How had I not thought of it sooner? It would have been so useful back in Phoenix!

We slipped on our protective masks and moved into position. The thugs were completely unaware, their rifles hanging lazily off their shoulders as if they had nothing to worry about. I quickly scanned the group—twenty-one in total, all heavily armed, plus the two head honchos, overseeing it all like kings of a pathetic little kingdom.

“On three,” I sent. “One… two… three!”

We fired in sync; the paintballs hitting their targets dead-on. The sleeping potion kicked in almost immediately, filling the air with a smell of oregano. One by one, the thugs collapsed, knocked out cold before they knew what hit them.

“That turned out to be an unexpectedly simple task” Al said, stepping over a guy who had a rifle bigger than he was.

We moved quickly, looting the place like pros. Well, by this point, I was kinda a pro. We collected bundles of cash, each thicker than the last, weapons—high-caliber rifles, handguns, you name it. And, of course, the drugs, all packed up and ready to go.

We stored everything, cash, guns, drugs—the whole haul disappeared with a thought. The last thing to go was the jeep, its sleek frame vanishing into my Storage.

“Mahya’s gonna flip when she sees this,” I said, grinning as I eyed the black jeep.

“Are you certain about this course of action?”

“Why not? They’re bad people that sell drugs to children. Mahya is a good person the converts stuff to Magitech. I feel like Robinhood.”

“Who is Robinhood?”

“I’ll tell you at the hotel. Ready to head out?” I asked.

“Indeed, let us depart,” Al replied, and I could hear the excitement in his mental voice.

We slipped back out as quietly as we’d come in, hopping into our own jeep and driving off into the night. On the way, Al commented, “I wish I could witness their faces when they wake up.” We both cracked up at the thought.

When we got back, Mahya was outside tinkering with an ATV, grease all over her hands. She looked up as we pulled in. “Everything went okay?”

I motioned for Al to join me. “Yes, and we got a little something for you. Close your eyes.”

She laughed but did as I asked, holding out her hands like she was expecting something small. I took out the black jeep and placed it in front of her. Then, I took out the crates of guns and ammo, stacking them neatly beside the Jeep.

“Alright, open your eyes,” I said, barely holding back a grin.

Mahya opened her eyes and just stood there, mouth open, staring at the jeep and the crates of weapons. She circled the jeep, running her hand over the glossy surface, her eyes lighting up with excitement.

“This is incredible!” she finally said, her voice full of awe. “Where did you get it?”

Al and I exchanged a look, both of us grinning like idiots.

“We encountered a small yet thrilling escapade,” Al said casually. “We believed you would find this useful. John said something about Robinhood.”

She laughed and opened one crate, revealing rows of guns. “And this?” she asked, eyes wide.

“Just a little bonus,” I shrugged. “Thought it might be useful.”

Mahya laughed more, shaking her head in disbelief. “You guys are something else.” She gave me a quick hug, then did the same to Al. “Thank you. This is amazing.”

I saw her eyes bouncing back and forth between the jeep and the crates, already figuring out how to use and improve everything. The excitement was infectious, and I couldn’t help but feel proud. We’d pulled it off, and seeing her this happy made it all worth it.

“Can’t wait to see what you do with it,” I said, clapping her on the shoulder.

“Oh, you have no idea,” she replied, her eyes sparkling with ambition. “This is going to be epic.”

I didn’t know how many drugs we took—Al stored them for good without specifying an amount. But the financial gain of the night was a little over a million. I just facepalmed and shook my head—resigned. It was like a curse. No matter how much we spent, the money just grew. It felt like a universe was trying to challenge me.

After a few hours, we had to drag Mahya off her new toys and drive to Pueblo to spend the money, or at least try to spend it.

Tip: You can use left, right, A and D keyboard keys to browse between chapters.