Chapter 109: Life Strategy Planning

[Chapter 110: Life Strategy Planning]

East Hollywood, Fountain Street.

In front of the studio, Hawke held up a sign for Edward to hang outside. It read "Temporarily Closed."

After a busy month dealing with the selfie scandal, Hawke finally planned to take a few days off.

Once the sign was hung, Edward returned to the studio and said, "Boss, Butterfly called me several times and wanted to meet with you. We've been busy, so I've been making him wait."

Hawke asked, "Is Campos better?"

"After the fever subsided, his leg wound healed quickly," Edward explained briefly. "He walks without limping anymore and has returned to the shelter, where DaShawn and the others are taking care of him. He's doing pretty well among the homeless."

Hawke was never one to give out kindness indiscriminately. "Call Campos. We'll head over there this afternoon."

Edward made the call.

Hawke took out his mobile phone and called someone else. When the other end picked up, he said, "Haven't seen you in a while. You went missing? You should've come over for drinks."

...

Five minutes later, someone knocked on the studio door, and Edward went to open it.

Frank sauntered in, glancing at Edward's tailored suit and Jaeger-LeCoultre watch. "Where'd you steal those?"

Edward grinned, revealing his big white teeth. "They're gifts from little Robert Downey Jr.'s widow, Deborah."

He pulled out his gold-trimmed Motorola and said, "See this? All gifts from her! Wanna guess why? Because I moved into her home. Old man, let me remind you, don't let me find out who your ex-wife is!"

Once upon a time, threats regarding ex-wife were just words.

Now, with blatant examples laid out, Frank didn't dare mention cotton, fried chicken, or watermelon juice. He pulled out a photo and said to Hawke, "About what you asked me to check last month, it's pretty much as you said. I got the photos sent over. You guys have been busy lately, so I didn't want to disturb you."

Hawke took the photo, looked at the man in a Mexican police uniform, and handed it to Edward. "Take a look."

Edward scrutinized the photo and confirmed, "Boss, that's definitely Butterfly."

Hawke pocketed the picture.

Now, with both the black and white sides confirming each other, Campos's identity didn't pose much of an issue. When the opportunity was right, he could have Erika check further.

Frank cautioned, "I heard from a friend that this guy is quite formidable. You shouldn't provoke him."

Hawke inquired, "Tell me more about it."

"A local drug gang tried to kill him but failed." Frank's contacts were relatively high up; he knew the rough outline of the situation. "Later, a warrant was issued, and he was ambushed by a dozen armed Mexican police in the city. Not only did he survive, but he also took out four guys, injured three, and escaped."

"That's ruthless," Edward expressed, somewhat surprised.

Hawke nodded slightly. Even if he valued his life, to achieve such results meant undeniable capability.

This guy was skilled in investigations, had good skills, and, at the very least, decent character. He was valuable.

Hawke's criteria for hiring people prioritized their abilities. Those addicted to gambling and drugs were completely untrustworthy.

Someone like Robert Downey Jr.'s buddy Cole was purely utilitarian to him.

Frank was particularly self-aware; after saying this, he pulled out a cloth bag and went to the fridge. He opened the door and began tossing in food and drinks -- beers, sausages, milk, fruits, and more, filling the bag to the brim.

Hawke said nothing.

Edward was about to speak.

But Frank picked up the bag and left without mocking anything Edward said, even pretending he didn't see him.

Edward was fired up: "Hey, where are you going? I wanted to chat more and show you the Cadillac and Hermes bag that Deborah gifted me!"

Frank slammed the door behind him.

Hawke recalled something: "Did you open a bank account? From now on, bonuses will go directly to your account; giving you cash is a hassle."

"I opened it yesterday," Edward quickly replied, giving Hawke the account number. "Boss, do I have to pay taxes?"

Hawke advised, "With our current status, don't attract attention from the IRS. Your income is decent now; don't think about skimping; get an accountant to help you sort it out."

Edward noted it down and decided to use the studio's accountant.

...

As noon approached, the two went out for lunch. They called to Frank, who was in the parking lot across the street, but the old man made it clear he didn't want to see Edward.

The King of Pushbacks seemed to have developed a complex.

In the afternoon, Edward drove the Cadillac over to Hollywood Boulevard, where he found the Ugly Trio.

These three guys were performing ridiculous acts while sitting on the stars on the boulevard. Unlike Frank's straightforward begging, they actually showcased some skills.

Edward made a call, and DaShawn temporarily left the sidewalk, crossing the street to get in the Cadillac.

Hawke asked, "What's Campos's situation lately?"

"He's picked up a few odd jobs to earn some money, but he still doesn't have legal status," DaShawn said. "He generally doesn't stir up trouble, and with the three of us around, no one dares to mess with him."

Hawke continued his questioning, "Who does he usually hang around with?"

DaShawn thought for a moment and said, "Besides a few Mexicans, it's mainly just us three. He hardly interacts with anyone else."

Hawke nodded. "Alright, keep doing your thing."

DaShawn hopped off the car.

Hawke said, "Let's head over to the shelter."

The Ackerman Charity Shelter wasn't far away; if they turned down one more street, they'd spot the big sign.

...

Charity was also a business, with all sorts of quirky non-profit organizations popping up.

Hawke intended to start a non-profit organization himself once they had a bit more funding and scale.

It was quieter than usual at the shelter today -- no free health exams, and lunch had long passed. The homeless people who had received food sought shade from the glaring sun, hiding away.

The Cadillac drove around the shelter and pulled into the back parking lot.

Hawke made a call, and soon enough, Campos came over from the other side of the parking lot.

He walked quickly, no longer limping like Hawke remembered from their last encounter.

Hawke rolled down the window and waved him over.

Campos opened the car door and immediately said, "Thanks for saving me."

Hawke nodded slightly and asked, "Fully recovered?"

"Yeah," Campos replied, clearly bright. "What do you want me to do?"

Hawke didn't answer but instead asked, "Last time you warned me about the Mule Gang operating in secret."

Campos explained in detail, "When I was in Mexico, I studied the Mule Gang's smuggling methods in-depth. Once they get the goods across the border, to avoid detection by the DEA and local police, they hire less noticeable mules temporarily to transport the goods into Los Angeles, as well as Orange County to the south and San Francisco to the north."

Hawke recalled the old man he'd seen previously -- an old guy driving a classic Dodge pickup, at least in his seventies.

Hawke asked, "The old men?"

Campos confirmed, "They're a common group they rely on -- aging seniors. They seldom get checked. They just need to drive to a designated spot, leave the keys behind, and the contact person, who assesses there's no risk of exposure, takes their vehicle to drive off with the goods and leaves cash behind."

Hawke pressed further, "What about other groups?"

"Very visibly pregnant women," Campos explained. Having stayed near the parking lot these past few months, he'd observed frequently. "Not pretend pregnant women, but genuine expectant mothers facing family financial crises. If they encounter a check, they just clutch their belly, and as long as they aren't primary suspects, there's a good chance they let them go."

Edward remarked, "The smugglers are pretty sharp."

Campos said, "The ones who are not smart usually end up handling small-scale distribution. Anyone lacking in smarts either gets caught or eliminated by rivals."

Hawke glanced at Edward, "Is Compton the same?"

"I only interact with the lower-tier members," Edward shrugged. "Those distribution fools earn no more than if they worked a regular job, but nobody likes working. After all, running the streets can mean partying more, while a job just wears you out for longer hours. It's not better than what their grandparents did picking cotton."

Campos saw Hawke kept asking about the Mule Gang: "You want to go against the Mule Gang?"

Hawke replied, "My studio isn't involved in drug enforcement; concerning the Mule Gang... you can think of it as I'm making a life strategy plan for myself."

Campos's expression turned grave. "Even though you saved me, those matters..."

"You're overthinking it," Hawke interrupted, knowing Campos misunderstood. "I'm a man of principles; gambling and drugs are my lifelong enemies!"

Campos visibly sighed in relief.

Hawke asked, "Has the Mule Gang been using this area for transport recently?"

Campos recalled, "There was one instance a little over a month ago, but I was starting to get sick then and didn't focus. While I was at the clinic, I was a bit out of the loop, but I haven't seen anything since I returned from the clinic."

He had a decent understanding of the current Los Angeles situation: "I've seen reports that a female detective from the LAPD intercepted a large haul of Mule Gang goods on a yacht not too long ago. Following that, the LAPD initiated a crackdown on the Mule Gang, so it's bound to affect them."

Given that Campos was a serious and responsible narcotics officer nearly taken down by his colleagues and superiors, Hawke decided to probe, "With your understanding of the Mule Gang, do you think the LAPD can wipe them out completely?"

"Not a chance," Campos shook his head. "The Mule Gang is too entrenched of an organization. There are bound to be those hidden in the shadows. There are way too many Mexicans in Los Angeles; you can easily find a Mexican family to hide among -- it's hard to track them down."

He showed some disdain for his colleagues, saying, "I'm not saying LAPD can't handle profit and protecting wealthy areas, but they are generally mediocre in other aspects. Over the past decade, LAPD has faced plenty of public embarrassment."

Edward chimed in, "Los Angeles riots, North Hollywood heist, road rage shootouts between officers, the Raphael Perez incident..."

At this point, when Hawke looked confused, Edward simply explained, "Back in '98, the LAPD lost 5 pounds of evidence from their evidence locker, suspected theft by Officer Raphael Perez. Eventually, the investigation uncovered another 11 cases of missing items from the evidence room involving over 70 officers, but in the end, Raphael took the fall and got paroled last year."

Hawke wasn't the least bit surprised, understanding they were Los Angeles's largest armed violence organizations.

Edward remarked, "LAPD is just the strongest legal gang in Los Angeles. I heard that donations have stagnated over the past two years, leading to declining public trust and sentiment."

Hawke thought of Erika, realizing that LAPD's promotion of her also hinted at some image management considerations.

Campos sighed, "America isn't paradise either."

During this time, Edward had been living comfortably, saying, "As long as you have enough money, life in America is like living in paradise."

Hawke sized up the parking lot and instructed Campos, "For the time being, keep an eye on this area for any vehicles from the Mule Gang... don't alert them; ensuring your own safety comes first."

Campos was professional in this regard: "As soon as they show up, I'll spot them immediately."

Hawke continued, "Once you see them, call me right away. You have my number, right?"

"I do," Campos confirmed, pulling out his old Nokia and dialed Hawke's number.

Edward went back to the car to grab a charger, and DaShawn and the others were able to find a place to charge.

Hawke saw the incoming call, then hung up, pulling out an envelope. "Consider this my hiring you."

Campos was easygoing alone, but with a few others to care for over here, he didn't push back any further. He accepted the envelope and promised, "If they don't show, I can't do anything. But if they do, they won't escape my eyes."

"Let's wrap this up here for today," Hawke concluded.

Campos carefully put away the envelope and got out of the car.

...

Hawke looked around and suddenly spotted someone coming out from behind the shelter.

"Boss, I want to go check it out," Edward unbuckled his seat belt, fixed his eyes on the back door.

The woman emerging wore an Ackerman Charity Foundation vest -- none other than Nicole, whom Hawke had met before.

"Go ahead," he understood Edward's feelings; the Savior was kicked out by Nicole.

Edward pulled down the sunshade and opened the vanity mirror, adjusting his tie before stepping out to head towards the back door of the shelter.

As he got near Nicole, he raised his hand to greet her, his sleeves slipping down to reveal his Jaeger-LeCoultre watch. "Hey, Nicole, long time no see."

Nicole stared at the revamped Edward, stunned for a moment, then turned her back and entered the shelter without a word.

Edward felt invigorated, turned back to the car, and still smiling, said, "Boss, that was an amazing feeling."

Hawke gestured ahead, "Drive. Let's go."

...

Edward was beaming, like he had just eaten something phenomenal, cruising along while chattering away, "Should I get something nice for Deborah?"

"You never got her anything?" Hawke was curious.

Edward replied, "Most of my gifts went to her son... um, I've decided; I'll get her a gift."

He seemed to revert back to his old ways: "Deborah will definitely reciprocate, and the value of the return gift will at least be ten times what I gave her."

At this point, Hawke was lost for words regarding such a talent.

Edward had publicly embarrassed his ex-girlfriend and was now excessively euphoric, adding, "Boss, your lead on the Mule Gang is also a gift, right?"

Hawke replied, "It's a strategic business plan."

Edward, confused, remarked, "Last time we were over here moving stuff, you brought up the Mule Gang. Why didn't you tell Erika?"

"Gifts aren't just given all at once; it requires careful negotiation. She's negotiating with me, and I'm doing the same with her," Hawke insisted that this strategic business plan was no joke. "You can't raise a woman's expectations too high all at once, or it'll be a hassle later."

Edward scratched his head with his left hand, "You're making this too complicated; I'm better off enjoying pure love."

...

Hawke fished out his phone and dialed Erika's number. When she picked up, he asked, "Still at work?"

Erika replied, "I'm not off yet, unlike you; I have a case to wrap up."

Hawke inquired, "Tomorrow's the weekend. Got any time? Let's hit the Artel Mountain Shooting Range and shoot some guns."

"Sounds good," Erika agreed swiftly, "Did you finish up everything?"

"The contract's done; we're wrapping it up," Hawke responded.

Erika had someone call her name from across the room; she said, "Gotta go; a bunch of things to handle. See you tomorrow."

...

Hawke hung up, returned to the studio, and took out a gun to clean.

Edward announced he was ready to leave. "I've taken leave this weekend, plus two days next week for a family event."

Without looking up, Hawke asked, "Downey's son?"

"Yeah, I'm going camping with Downey's son," Edward said, sounding like a proud father. "I'm off to buy supplies tonight and heading out early tomorrow to Palm Springs for three days."

Hawke, being a good boss, said, "Go ahead. I suggest you propose to Deborah; she seems like a good catch."

Edward was taken aback. "Boss, we agreed not to tie ourselves to one tree! Also, marrying her wouldn't be a good deal for me."

"How is it not a deal?" Hawke's thought process differed from Edward's. "Even if you divorce later, you can still take away a big chunk of cash."

Edward said with an unprecedented seriousness, "I'm the co-founder of West Coast Media Entertainment. I earn dividends every year. Given our growth speed, by the time I divorce Deborah, I'll be the one losing out on the assets."

Now, it was Hawke's turn to be surprised. "Wow, Savior, you really know how to flatter."

"No, no, no, this isn't flattery," Edward insisted. "I'm being completely sincere."

Hawke waved him off: "Hurry up and find your Deborah."

Edward set off to be a stand-in father for Downey's son.

...

Hawke had dinner alone and received a call from Miss Baa.

"I saw the news lately; you made quite a sum off Josh Hartnett, huh?" Miss Mei was very direct. "The guy was sent by me, and you promised me a 5% cut."

Hawke feigned innocence: "Aren't we friends? Shouldn't we help each other out?"

When it came to money, Caroline was shrewd: "The weather's starting to cool. I've had my eye on a Chanel trench coat; can you send it my way?"

To keep Miss Baa on board for future networking, Hawke said, "It's too late today; let's do it tomorrow. I'll have the bank transfer $40,000 to your account."

Caroline gasped, "You raked in $800,000 from a single deal?"

Hawke was ready to hang up. "Make sure to check your statements tomorrow."

Caroline sounded deflated, losing some of her usual sass: "Okay, I'll be sure to check."

Hawke knocked her down a peg but then sweetened the deal: "If anyone from your company has any unresolved issues, they can come to me. For anyone you refer, I'll give you a 10% commission."

*****

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