Chapter 53: Coca-Cola Lucky Star

The sun rose, and the temperature gradually increased. The actors waiting at the temporary makeup area grew restless.

Ward looked towards the soundstage. "Can she manage?"

Adam Smith unbuttoned two buttons of his shirt and said, "She's an ambitious person."

Someone nearby shouted, "Ice-cold Coke is here!"

The guy who delivered drinks every day, Big Head, pushed a cart over, placing the cans of brand-new Coca-Cola on the table.

The extras all went to grab a Coke.

Ward took two cans, handed one to Adam Smith, opened his can, and took a big gulp, feeling absolutely refreshed.

Big Head reminded them, "Don't litter. Put the empty cans back where you got them."

The extras were used to it; this guy always came to collect the empty cans and bottles.

After finishing their Coke, they put the empty cans back.

Robert, wearing gloves, collected them into a net bag.

Ward and Adam Smith put down their cans and left.

Robert first collected the other empty cans and then carefully placed the two new cans into a separate net bag.

He pushed the cart back, stopping behind a certain car.

Bruce was leaning against the car and asked, "Got them?"

Robert handed over the two cans. "What exactly are you going to do?"

Bruce said, "Relax, I'm a civilized man."

Robert nodded. "Don't drag me into this."

Bruce pointed to a makeup trailer. "Martin is about to go into the soundstage. Go ahead." He encouraged Robert, "Relax, I'm covering you from behind. We've got dozens of guys outside the set. A single call, and they'll rush in."

Robert went to the food truck, grabbed some new Coke, and casually took an empty can, following Martin into the soundstage from a distance.

...

Filming started. Martin had one last scene to shoot today. He left the rest area and went to the set.

A small round table next to his chair had an empty can sitting on it.

Just like the previous days, Rosa enthusiastically helped Martin clean up his unused items, taking away the empty can and walking towards the outskirts of the set.

Robert, holding a net bag and wearing gloves, tidied up the trash in the rest area. He took out his phone and dialed a number, hanging up after a ring.

The shoot was going smoothly. Within a few minutes, Martin returned to the rest area.

Robert came up behind him and whispered, "She took it."

Martin was curious, "Whose was it?"

Robert said, "Some extra's."

Martin asked again, "She didn't do anything else?"

"No," Robert had been watching closely. "She just took the can."

Martin praised, "Buddy, you are my Coca-Cola lucky star."

Robert muttered, "Being with you brings all the luck to you, and all the misfortune to me."

Martin laughed, "Don't worry, people can't be unlucky forever."

On the other side, Rosa exited the soundstage and saw Adam Smith. She handed over a paper bag with the can inside. "Don't forget your promise."

"Wait for good news," Adam Smith quickly left to meet Ward in a secluded area.

Ward put on gloves, carefully pried open the top of the can, and stuffed a plastic bag inside. "All the good stuff we brought, send it all to him!"

Adam Smith smiled, "Caught in the act, with his bio samples all over the packaging. I can imagine his fate."

Ward finished up and headed towards the parking lot.

Adam Smith maintained a significant distance, walking and keeping an eye out.

In a car in the parking lot, Bruce watched everything closely, frowning. "That piece of dog crap Martin got into this business, how's he a civilized man?"

He realized something was wrong, "A piece of dog crap fits right into this filthy industry!"

Soon, the two men came out of the parking lot and returned to the set to work.

Bruce circled the parking lot, confirmed no one was watching, and quickly entered the lot, pulling out his phone. He called Robert and Andrew, getting the car details from the latter.

The remaining task was simple for a former cleaner like him.

...

The day's work ended, and Martin left the makeup trailer, heading towards the parking lot.

He dialed Bruce's number again. "Old Bruce, how are things going now?"

Bruce, who had been watching the parking lot to prevent any surprises, said, "Everything's fine."

Martin said, "I'm a civilized man, a good citizen of Atlanta, and a special honorary certificate holder of the ATL Freedom Association. I will not let evil happen right before my eyes. Old Bruce, you must report them. We stand firmly against evil!"

Bruce wanted to give the middle finger but Martin wasn't there. "I already reported it, providing accurate leads immediately." He looked at the badge and the small camera Robert had sent over. "Why make me dress up as a reporter?"

Martin replied, "I don't trust those bastards."

Bruce asked, "You didn't bring a gun, did you?"

Martin said, "No."

"Work with those bastards. Once you park, I'll come over first thing," Bruce said honestly. "You're not Black or Mexican. As long as you don't do anything excessive, those bastards won't draw their guns."

Martin got into his Ford. "If I were a damn Black guy, I wouldn't be doing this."

Bruce said, "They're tailing you."

The Ford drove out of the parking lot, with a black Mercedes SUV following behind.

Inside the car, Ward finished a call. "I called 911, reporting a large haul inside. It's a big deal. Nearby patrols will definitely respond, and they'll find a hundred legitimate reasons to act against someone without money and power."

Adam Smith asked, "One scandal will be enough to destroy him."

Ward nodded. "The Freedom Association won't want to get involved in this mess."

Bruce, tailing the Mercedes SUV, pulled up a number from his contacts and dialed. "Lynch, the lead I mentioned earlier, it's verified."

"I've applied for an emergency search warrant. If it's a false lead, I'll kill you."

"You'll die before I do," Bruce cut it short. "Two idiots carrying a ton of stuff, seems like something new, probably not your DEA snitches."

Lynch didn't dwell on the "DEA snitches," asking, "You won't screw me over?"

Bruce said, "Remember when we screwed over the Brits together? I took all the blame."

Lynch asked, "Where?"

Bruce gave the location and hung up.

The three cars weaved through traffic heading northwest. Before long, an APD patrol car with flashing lights came up from behind, signaling the Ford to pull over.

Martin complied immediately, pulling over to the side.

Meanwhile, Bruce sped up, overtaking the Mercedes SUV, stopping behind the patrol car and getting out with his camera.

Two APD officers stepped out, one placing a hand on the rear of the Ford, another keeping a hand near his gun, loudly demanding Martin step out for a check due to reckless driving.

Martin fully complied, raising his hands and getting out.

One officer checked Martin, confirming he was unarmed, while the other noticed Bruce and shouted, "What are you doing?"

Bruce held up his badge. "I'm a journalist. I have the right to film!"

Journalists shadowing APD wasn't unusual. The officers took it easy, as Martin wasn't Black.

One officer restrained Martin while the other searched the car.

The Mercedes SUV parked behind Bruce's car. Ward and Adam Smith watched everything unfold.

Adam Smith wasn't too elated, calmly stating, "It's a simple matter, easily handled."

Ward asked, "Can he afford the costly bail?"

Adam Smith pointed. "See that? A journalist. This will make the news soon. Grey Films can't risk using him."

Ward was curious, "A journalist showed up so fast, who called him?"

Adam Smith also found it strange.

Just then, three black Chevy SUVs drove up the road, turning simultaneously to box in the Mercedes SUV from three sides.

Chevy doors swung open, and robust DEA agents, armed with shotguns and automatic rifles, leaped out, training their weapons on Ward and Adam Smith.

"DEA! Let me see your hands!"

Facing multiple gun barrels, Ward and Adam Smith froze.

The DEA agents, search warrants in hand, acted swiftly, yanking the two men out of the car.

Adam Smith, sensing a mistake, hurried to explain, "You've got it wrong. We're not--"

Before he finished, a DEA agent reversed his shotgun, smashing the butt into his shoulder.

Adam Smith fell. Before he could get up, the agent's knee pressed him down.

Ward, hands behind his head, squatted compliantly.

The agent showed no fear, as his searching colleague gave a thumbs-up.

DEA had found what they were looking for.

Justice prevailed; evil faced its due consequences.

*****

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