Chapter 96: Guns and the Thorn Rose

[Chapter 97: Guns and the Thorn Rose]

West Hollywood, in front of Emerson Film Studios.

Hawke parked his car by the roadside. Glancing at the license plate of the red sedan ahead, he got out and approached the passenger side, gently tapping on the window.

Jacqueline, who was touching up her makeup, waved from inside. She quickly packed her things and got out of the car.

"Follow me," Hawke said, waiting for her to catch up. "The lead investor for this project is the director's girlfriend, so don't try to pull any tricks in front of the director."

Jacqueline, not one to be foolish, quickly replied, "Can you wait for me a moment?"

Hawke waved his hand, "Go ahead."

Jacqueline returned to the car. When she came out again, all her makeup had been removed, and she had changed her clothes, losing much of her previous high-maintenance vibe.

She asked Hawke, "Is this okay?"

"This way," Hawke led her into the studio, heading straight to the director's office.

With the crew's preparations underway, the place was no longer quiet, with many people coming and going.

Hawke even spotted Kevin Lee, who had been dealing with Miller Collins, but he didn't directly introduce himself; Kevin didn't know who he was.

Eric's assistant saw Hawke and approached him, saying, "The director is waiting for you."

Hawke took Jacqueline into Eric's office, introduced her, and said plainly, "This is my friend. She's very interested in acting. Why don't you see if she has any talent?"

Eric first let his assistant take Jacqueline to the audition room to get familiar with the environment.

Once alone, he asked, "Hawke, is she your girlfriend? Or your lover?"

Hawke clarified immediately to avoid any misunderstanding: "She and I aren't involved that way. We met while working together. She has always dreamed of becoming an actress. If she's decent, help her find a small role that doesn't interfere with the shoot. If it doesn't work out, just say so. No need to be polite."

Eric thought for a moment and said, "There's a role that has some decent screen time. It's just a prostitute, though, a bit on the risque side."

Hawke couldn't help but size up Eric, thinking to himself, do you have a thing for Jacqueline? He didn't mind, "You do what you think is best."

Eric rummaged through the file cabinet for the script for that role, "You sit tight; I'll take her for the audition."

...

Hawke borrowed the script Eric was writing to look over.

It was an outline about a gossip columnist trying to rise above the struggling underbelly of Los Angeles...

Before long, Eric returned and said to Hawke, "Although she hasn't professionally studied acting, she has potential."

He seemed a little puzzled, "The scene I had her audition for was pretty central; she used a pole to seduce a client. Honestly speaking, she did really well, quite reminiscent of Jamie Lee Curtis in True Lies."

Professional-level talent was, of course, impressive. Hawke nodded slightly, "As long as she fits, that's all that matters."

Eric continued, "Actors can't directly negotiate contracts with the crew; she'll need an agent."

Hawke's Nokia phone beeped with a text message, "Let the crew handle that."

He introduced Jacqueline to the crew, and afterward she would have to rely on herself.

Hawke opened the text; it was from Erica Ferguson.

It simply read: I'm back in Los Angeles.

"I've got something to take care of, so I'll be off," Hawke announced, exiting Eric's office and dialing Erica's number.

...

On the other end, Erica's bright voice came through, "Hey, Hawke, I'm back from New York."

Hawke replied, "You were gone so long; I thought you might turn into a East Coast girl."

"The bunch of Yankees on the East Coast are boring and dull, all just a bunch of tame sheep," Erica retorted and then asked, "How about you? Busy with work?"

Hawke replied, "I'm off today, just twiddling my thumbs. Do you have time? Let's hang out."

Erica immediately chimed in, "Sure! I just got back, don't have to work right now, so I have the time."

Her suggestion was quite different from what most girls would propose: "It's been so long since I shot a gun. I remember you're good at it. How about we go to the Artel Mountain shooting range and have a little friendly competition?"

Hawke obviously wouldn't turn her down, "See you at the shooting range."

...

A little over ten minutes later, both of them arrived at the shooting range at almost the same time.

Erica got out of a Cherokee with a bag slung over her shoulder and approached Hawke, saying, "You look more fit than before."

Hawke also grabbed his bag, "That shows my regular workouts are paying off."

As they entered the shooting range, they each headed to the changing rooms to change their clothes.

When Hawke saw Erica again, he was taken aback.

Her long brown hair was pulled back, revealing a confident face. The tactical belt around her slim waist accentuated her camo training vest, highlighting her upper assets. She wore high-top police boots paired with camo pants, looking like a lithe leopard.

In terms of looks, Erica might not be as beautiful as Megan, but she exuded an entirely different vibe.

Hawke was dressed in black training gear and met her with his gun bag.

Erica confidently stated, "Which game? You pick, and let's agree upfront, the loser treats for lunch."

Hawke replied, "Outdoor rapid fire, half-body targets."

"Sounds good," Erica said.

...

As they reached the outdoor area, they selected a shooting range and a safety officer followed them over.

Seeing Hawke and Erica, the safety officer remarked, "So, you two sharpshooters are going to compete?"

Surprised, Erica looked at Hawke, "What happened while I was in New York?"

Hawke stepped out of the booth, pulled out a magazine, and checked his handgun, saying, "I come here often to practice. Occasionally, I'll compete against others; they think I shoot exceptionally well."

"World-class shooter," the safety officer added, "You're good at slingshots too."

Hawke loaded the magazine, "Shall I go first?"

"Sure," Erica replied.

Hawke stepped onto the range. Once the safety officer called to start, he quickly took aim, rushing forward.

Several half-body targets were set up; he shot rapidly, and with the noise of gunfire, the targets quickly fell one after another.

With the magazine empty, Hawke replaced it with a second one.

Outside, Erica crossed her arms and watched Hawke with great interest.

Within twenty meters, he hit every shot.

This guy really was a treasure.

After emptying two magazines, Hawke turned back.

The safety officer checked the electronic counter and said, "Buddy, another perfect score!"

When Erica waited for Hawke to come over, she said, "You're good, but I'm better."

As the safety officer signaled the start, she darted out like a cheetah, moving swiftly with tactical maneuvers while firing simultaneously.

Each shot brought down a half-body target.

After two magazines, Erica returned with her empty gun, pointing to her wristwatch, "Perfect score, but I took three seconds less than you, so you lost."

Hawke didn't argue, "Alright, lunch is on me."

Erica asked, "Did the safety officer mention slingshots earlier?"

Hawke went back to the booth, opening the bag on the wooden table and pulling out a slingshot, "This kind."

Erica took it, stretching the rubber band.

Hawke produced a few steel balls, explaining the technique, "Give it a shot."

Erica drew back the slingshot, aimed at a half-body target's head, missing the first shot. The second shot adjusted, hitting with a satisfying thud.

She then shot five more steel balls, all hitting the target's head.

Hawke appropriately praised her, "Wow, you're skilled at shooting, it's quite impressive."

Erica was far from modest, "Friends and co-workers say the same. I've been shooting with my grandpa since I was seven."

Hawke took back the slingshot she handed him, casually asking, "How many years have you practiced?"

"Fifteen years," Erica replied casually, then realizing said, "I'm not too fussy; you could just ask directly. I'm 22 this year."

They packed up and went to collect rifles, both grabbing an AR-15.

The entire morning was spent at the shooting range.

Hawke could see that Erica really enjoyed shooting.

Coincidentally, he was also quite good at it.

They both enjoyed the activity together.

...

Come lunchtime, Hawke took Erica out to eat at a nearby restaurant.

While chatting, they recounted how they had met.

Seeing she didn't mind discussing it, Hawke said, "Practicing for so many years, no wonder your aim is steady."

Erica replied, "If I'm not steady, I could die. Who would bet their life on something like that?"

She smiled at Hawke, "Good thing you filmed it." Hawke remarked, "Why do I have this feeling that even without my video, you wouldn't be in too much trouble?"

"Though the one who died was a lowlife, he's still considered a celebrity," Erica didn't deny, "Public pressure is huge; I might lose my job."

Hawke said, "Patrolling can be risky too; with guns out of control, even ordinary incidents can result in someone pulling a gun."

Erica replied, "I'm not patrolling anymore; I'm moving to detective work." She pointed out, "I passed the entry exam for the detective."

Hawke felt that this job was even more dangerous, but Erica clearly enjoyed it. He said, "Congrats on the promotion."

"My title hasn't increased yet," Erica curiously asked Hawke, "What about you? Busy with work lately? Still going around shooting news?"

Hawke simply responded, "Not so much shooting anymore. My main business is crisis PR consulting and strategic business planning, and I've landed two big contracts in the last month."

Erica inquired, "Can you share?"

Hawke could only be vague, "Equal rights champion Steve Nutt, and helping Dwayne Johnson snag a lead role."

At this point, he recalled Johnson's invitation: "Dwayne Johnson is throwing a yacht party after signing on as the male lead and invited me, allowing me to bring a plus one."

Having attended many yacht parties throughout her life, Erica asked, "Were there any particularly fun activities?"

When Hawke extended the invitation, he had already thought about this. Erica was different from regular girls, she loved guns and shooting.

He quickly thought of something, "When I lived in Wyoming as a kid, someone taught me a fun way to fish -- shooting fish."

Erica asked, "Fishing with archery?"

"Similar, but..." Hawke gestured as if pulling back a slingshot, "using a slingshot for fishing."

Erica, a city girl who was well-versed in firearms and had even tried archery, was intrigued: "Let's buy tools after lunch."

Hawke, being the cunning strategist, had broader thoughts: "I haven't seen anyone selling that; how about we buy some materials and make it ourselves?"

If you look carefully, you could definitely find what you needed.

But the experience of building and then using it together would feel entirely different in terms of significance.

Erica replied enthusiastically, "Sure, let's build it ourselves."

...

After lunch, they rushed over to the nearest hardware store and selected a bunch of materials and tools.

After putting everything in the trunk, Hawke drove ahead, leading the way while Erica followed in her vehicle back to Fountain Street.

The studio didn't have much space, and there was no garage. They could have used the second-floor side bedroom as a workspace, but Edward had temporarily moved in there.

Hawke had a plan and drove the car straight into the parking lot, stopping in front of Frank's RV.

Frank came out of the RV and, seeing Hawke unloading items from the trunk, asked, "Did you buy me all this good stuff?"

Hawke dropped the bags on the empty ground in front of the RV, "Just borrowing your space and your electricity for a while."

Erica opened the spacious trunk of the Cherokee, dragging over heavy boxes. She didn't need any help, slipping on gloves and using a crowbar to pop open the box, assembling a workbench from within.

In fact, she has an empty house in the Silver Lake community not far from here, but now is not the time to bring anyone into the house to be alone.

Frank was confused but plugged in the power from the Ford RV.

Hawke brought down alloy boards, heavy-duty rubber bands, pulleys, fish line, and engineering plastic boards among other materials.

Making a slingshot was a simple task for him.

Adding a line reel with a strap that could loop around the wrist, modifying the arrowhead for fishing spears, and connecting it to the fishing line.

Frank pulled up a chair to sit, eyeing the enthusiastic Erica, then shooting a glance at the cunning Hawke, nearly cringing at their lack of flirtation.

But upon seeing the new RV, he held back.

Considering the new RV, he just pretended to be oblivious.

Erica went back to the Cherokee and returned with a brand new mini-welder and a cutting machine.

Frank watched in disbelief as Hawke spent hundreds of dollars to make two slingshots.

The two people next to him -- there wasn't a word of romance exchanged between them. They discussed mechanical workings and craftsmanship, but their bond was clearly growing stronger.

Frank suddenly felt that the Savior was as blind as a bat. Was this called lacking in the art of seduction? How could he not know how to use a gun?

He shook his head, "That fool doesn't even deserve to pick cotton!"

Suddenly, a cacophony of sounds emerged as they started calibrating the slingshots.

Erica repeatedly loaded steel balls, shooting at a tree in the distance.

Finally, Hawke's voice called out, "Hey buddy, turn off the power."

Frank went to switch it off.

Erica picked up the rather crude-looking slingshot, attached the reel to her wrist, excitedly stating, "Let's give it a try."

Hawke grabbed a bottle of water and led her towards the park saying, "This way."

...

They entered the park.

In the afternoon, with few people around, Hawke found a secluded area in a grove and hung the water bottle from a tree branch.

When he returned to Erica's side, he saw she was looking to her left.

Erica gestured for him to be quiet, pointing at something above a tree.

Hawke looked and saw a pitch-black crow perched in the tree.

Erica clearly was not interested in lifeless targets. She attached a small harpoon to the heavy-duty rubber band, pulling it back while itself ready to aim.

With a snap, the harpoon flew out like a released arrow.

Feathers exploded around the branch; the crow was pierced by the harpoon.

As Erica pulled back the fishing line, the harpoon and bird got caught in the branch, and she had to go and retrieve it.

Hawke was certain, if Downey had encountered Erica, his death would have seemed quite justifiable.

Erica returned holding the still-twitching crow, laughing, "It packs quite a punch."

Hawke replied, "Let's find a spot to bury it; we don't need anyone to see it and cause trouble."

Erica pulled out a police knife from her pocket and ran over to a tree to dig a hole without needing Hawke's help, "The mess I created, I can clean up myself."

Hawke gradually understood her nature, not wanting to impose. He grabbed the slingshot and reel, walking twenty meters away.

He glanced at the hanging water bottle, pulled back the slingshot, and with a pop, shot the bottle clean through.

This was pretty dangerous.

Hawke retrieved the harpoon and fired a few more shots.

Meanwhile, Erica had buried the crow.

...

They returned to finish the next one.

Hawke asked Frank, who had seen it all, "Do you need a permit for fishing with this in the sea?"

"Absolutely," Frank reminded, "Anything flying in the sky, running on the ground, or swimming in the water, if you want to hunt it legally, you need a permit."

Erica volunteered, "I can go get a fishing license; it's not hard."

Hawke replied, "Sounds good; I'll leave it to you."

By four in the afternoon, Erica was ready to leave, taking a slingshot with her, "I'll practice back home."

Hawke said, "Sure."

Frank took away Hawke's ordinary slingshot and warned, "Please take away your tools. They give me a headache."

"Let's leave them in my car," Erica said, opening the Cherokee's trunk. Once Hawke approached, she casually mentioned, "I have an empty house in Silver Lake. I'll take you there in a bit."

Hawke caught on to her meaning; he asked, "You don't need my help with that?"

Erica reached out, brushing a speck of metallic dust from his face, "I can handle it myself."

...

Hawke nodded slightly, packing the car to drive her out of the parking lot. Suddenly, he spotted a delivery truck across the street with Edward standing next to it on a call.

Erica recognized the Savior and stopped the car to go greet him.

Edward saw Hawke and quickly hung up the phone, saying, "Boss, I was just about to look for you."

Erica approached, "Good afternoon, Savior."

Edward felt slightly nervous upon seeing Erica, subconsciously worried about getting her magazine emptied out, politely responding before turning to Hawke, "I'm planning to move."

Hawke asked, "So soon?"

Edward replied, "I rented a storage unit to move my stuff over, and I'm heading to Downey's place; Deborah invited me to stay."

Hawke patted him on the shoulder, "Moving into a big mansion, huh?"

Edward grinned broadly, showing off his teeth, and opened the door to move his things.

Erica turned to Hawke, puzzled, "The Savior mentioned heading to Downey's place? Which Downey? That Deborah sounds familiar."

Hawke directly answered, "The same Downey you're thinking of, Robert Downey Jr. Deborah is Downey's widow, and somehow the Savior got to know her. Noticing she was lonely, he showed some concern. I'm not entirely sure how it went down, but they are together now."

Erica blinked, feeling something was off, an idea quickly surfacing in her mind.

She shot Downey, and Hawke used his connections to profit off Downey's news. His underling was courting Downey's widow and moving into the estate Downey left behind?

*****

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