The Wolf of Los Angeles

[Chapter 30: The Test]

As night fell, a sleek black Mondeo roared down the street, powered by its potent 3.6-liter V6 engine.

Hawke ended a phone call and turned to Edward Connor, who was driving. "Head to Linton Cafe."

Edward flipped the steering wheel, curious, "Another celebrity causing a stir?"

Hawke replied, "We're going to help an injured beauty."

He had just received a call from Jacqueline, who had vital news to discuss in person.

"Your girlfriend?" Edward prattled on, unable to keep his mouth shut. "Wait, you're such an old-fashioned guy; how could a girl like you? Hey, boss, are you the type who needs the lights out and only knows two positions...?"

Hawke picked up on the tone of disdain. "Shut up, or I'll dock your pay!"

Edward quickly zipped his lips, no longer daring to mock his boss.

As they closed in on the cafe, Hawke told Edward to stop the car. He handed him Jacqueline's number and instructed him to go meet her and bring her back.

"Why not just go directly?" Edward questioned, perplexed.

Hawke, wary of someone using Jacqueline as bait, justified, "The news act states that media professionals cannot disclose sources and must protect the identity of those providing information. This is a fundamental principle of press freedom."

He emphasized, "We need to keep our informants safe. You're a fresh face; people will not suspect anything when they see you together..."

Edward didn't have any talent for this, but there had been a tragic incident involving an informant in Compton's gang, so he said, "I understand."

Hawke was worried that Downey, this drug addict, was too high and had a wild imagination, thinking of the elevator and Jacqueline.

Edward stepped out and headed for the cafe.

Hawke lingered behind, observing from a distance.

Minutes later, Edward emerged with Jacqueline, and thankfully, no incidents occurred.

After Jacqueline got into the car, Hawke greeted her.

Jacqueline responded, "You look even more inconspicuous than that day."

Hawke thought to himself, "You sure know how to compliment."

Edward noticed her heavy makeup and asked curiously, "Beautiful lady, have you been divorced? Do you have a kid?"

Jacqueline shook her head, "No, I'm only 22."

Edward shrugged, looking disinterested.

Hawke got straight to the point. "Do you have any weighty news leads?"

Jacqueline fumed, "There's this little brat who stole my most important client and then called to gloat about it!"

Hawke pressed on, "Who is the client?"

"Eddie, Eddie Murphy!" Jacqueline revealed.

The name struck a chord with Hawke, and he glanced at Edward, who retorted internally that his boss clearly lacked knowledge. But he replied, "The black comedy star, starred in Beverly Hills Cop and The Nutty Professor, and he voiced that goofy donkey in last year's hit Shrek."

"Every time Eddie reaches out, he looks for me," Jacqueline continued, delivering the essential point. "This time, he took that little brat, and she called to brag about it, mocking my age..."

Women's relationships had always been complex. She clenched her teeth. "That little brat came to Los Angeles, and I took care of her, helped her get familiar with everything, and then she stole my most important client!"

Edward asked, "Is there any possibility that Eddie is just tired of you and looking for someone new...?"

Hawke shot him a glare; it didn't matter what the possibility was. What mattered was that this lead was valuable. He promptly asked, "Where are they most likely to go?"

Edward finally seemed to catch on and kept his mouth shut.

Jacqueline replied, "Hobart Mountain Park. There's a grove of palm trees. Eddie never took me to hotels or apartments; he liked to camp out there. If there's no one around, he might even come out of the tent to play."

Hawke inquired, "What kind of tent does he typically use?"

Jacqueline thought for a moment. "Lately, he's been using an orange-red tent with a picture of the Brooklyn Bridge on it, which he says is a landmark from his hometown."

Hawke asked again, "Does he bring bodyguards?"

Jacqueline carefully considered. "I've never seen any."

Nodding, Hawke reached out. "Give me your phone."

"What for?" she asked.

"Delete the call history, and remove my number from it. Memorize it," he advised, sensing she could become a long-term source. "Remember, we didn't contact each other today. Head back to work and call your agent to chew that little brat out for her ungratefulness; let off some steam..."

As Jacqueline followed his instructions, she questioned, "Why?"

Hawke explained, "There's an old saying: barking dogs seldom bite."

Jacqueline understood; she would not even ask for money this time, hurrying back.

All she wanted was revenge on that little brat.

...

Hawke called Edward, and they got back in the car, headed straight for Hobart Mountain Park. It was one of the popular camping spots in Los Angeles, but in March, the nighttime temperatures were low, so there weren't many campers around.

Upon entering the park, Edward drove down the roadway.

When they reached a fork in the road, Hawke stopped him, got out to consult the park map, then got back in and directed, "This way."

Before long, glimmers of light appeared ahead. Hawke instructed Edward to park and handed him black clothing, a hoodie, and gloves to wear. He also set up the camera with a flash.

Edward put on the black hood. "I feel... like a robber! No wait, I left Compton because I didn't want to be a robber!"

Hawke ignored the nonsense. "Your first test is coming. The night is your domain; exploit your strengths!"

Edward couldn't help but add, "Boss, can I file a complaint against you for racial discrimination?"

Hawke shrugged. "You don't want to do this, then don't." He pulled out a knife and tucked it into his waistband. "We're running out of time."

Edward licked his lips nervously and followed him out.

"Don't open your mouth; nobody should be able to spot you easily." Hawke was already dressed in black and wore a hat and gloves.

Edward couldn't speak, so he followed Hawke forward.

Using the cover of darkness, they crept closer to the lighted area, where a camping tent was set up.

The colors under the light weren't very clear, but the pattern of the Brooklyn Bridge glowed.

Everything else was shrouded in darkness, making it the perfect time to make a move.

Hawke hid behind some bushes, observing for a while before declaring, "This is it."

Edward took the opportunity to speak, "Are we just going to wait? Wait for them to come out and snap some shots? We can't be sitting here all night, right?"

"Wait? Sitting here to feed mosquitoes?" Hawke never was one to passively wait. "News is proactively dug up; it never just falls in your lap. Get in there!"

Edward pointed at his own face. "Me? Boss, I'm a rookie; can I pull this off?"

"Heroes can emerge from a garbage dump. Who made it out of Compton isn't a talent?" Hawke pumped him up with motivation and handed him the knife. "Sneak in, remember to avoid the lights, don't let your shadow fall on the tent. If the zipper gets stuck, cut through the tent and get some shots of the two of them."

Edward felt like he'd boarded a pirate ship but also felt his rebellious instinct stirring. He took the camera and knife.

Hawke gave his shoulder a reassuring pat. "Go."

With the camera around his neck, Edward suddenly remembered to ask, "What about you, boss?"

Hawke answered, "I'll be here to back you up. Rest assured, if you mess up, I'll save you."

Most Hollywood stars had a crew of friends, and while there were usually more around black stars, Jacqueline claimed she hadn't seen any bodyguards. Hawke made sure he was prepared for anything.

"You won't ditch me, right?" Edward asked, insecurity creeping in.

Hawke pointed at the camera. "That thing costs thousands; am I just going to abandon it?"

Edward felt reassured and quietly moved ahead, his dark silhouette blending into the night.

...

Following Hawke's instructions, he skirted the light to prevent his shadow from falling on the tent, sneaking up from behind.

Inside the tent, strange noises echoed.

Edward was experienced enough to discern what kind of business was going down.

This was a golden opportunity; he tightened his grip on the knife and approached from the back, stabbing the tent and sliding it down with force, instantly creating a large hole.

Biting down on the knife, he raised the camera and pointed the lens inside, snapping away in rapid succession.

The flash went off, and Eddie Murphy bellowed, "Who? What are you doing? Stop!"

In the darkness, a pair of blinding headlights flared up.

Two black men, one fat and another thin, previously dozing off in a nearby black Cherokee, jolted awake at Eddie Murphy's roar and immediately switched on their headlights, rushing out.

This was Edward's first time pulling a stunt like this, and he felt the nerves getting to him; he couldn't remember how many times he pressed the shutter button. Holding tightly to the camera, he bolted.

Eddie Murphy stumbled and rolled out of the tent, shouting, "Stop him, get that camera! The camera!"

Behind him, the woman was still dazed.

Edward skirted through the peril as Hawke tucked away his phone, lowered his hood, tightened his gloves, and rushed out at the right moment.

He crouched low and moved swiftly, colliding with the fat black man, who fell to the ground, landing hard against a palm tree with a painful yelp.

Before he could get back up, Hawke delivered a kick to his fat belly.

The man curled up, resembling a boiled shrimp, temporarily unable to rise.

Hawke darted towards the other man.

The lean black man pulled out a taser, trying to aim at the fleeing Edward.

Hawke tackled him to the ground, snatched the taser away, and threw it far off. He gave the man a punch and rolled over, pinning his knee to the guy's neck, switching to an East Coast accent, "What's the point of risking your life for so little money?"

The once-struggling man lay still under Hawke's weight and words.

Hawke then dashed behind a sturdy palm tree and vanished into the darkness.

*****

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