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Chapter 112: Public Relations and Image Building

[Chapter 113: Public Relations and Image Building]

Beverly Hills, Century City.

Hawke drove off Santa Monica Boulevard, arriving near the Beverly Business Club.

He grabbed his briefcase, exited the car, and presented his membership card at the entrance of the club.

Not far away, Daniel Richard got out of his Honda Accord, waited for a moment, and headed towards the Beverly Business Club.

As soon as he reached the doorway, he was stopped.

"Sir, please show your membership card."

Cursing under his breath, Daniel turned and walked away.

In a nearby Cadillac, Edward recorded every move Daniel made with a handheld camera.

Daniel got back into his car, waiting there for Hawke.

Edward turned the camera lens to keep an eye on Daniel.

...

Inside the club, Hawke spotted Caroline.

Miss Baa was wearing a newly bought Chanel trench coat, carrying a conspicuously labeled LV handbag, and her feet were adorned with sparkling diamond-studded high heels.

She looked less like a public relations manager and more like a fashion model.

Hawke pointed out her newly styled bangs, saying, "The bangs hang down too much; I can barely see your face."

Influenced by Hawke's earlier comment, Caroline had opted for light makeup on her little sheepish face. "As long as my face looks small, I look pretty no matter how I appear."

Hawke walked towards the front and asked, "Where's Steve?"

Before Caroline could answer, the door to the private meeting room opened, and Steve Nutt appeared swiftly to greet Hawke, extending his hand. "Long time no see."

Hawke smiled slightly, "We are old friends; no need to be so formal."

Steve led Hawke into the room and had coffee sent in.

Caroline shut the door behind them.

Manager Biles and Steve's wife, Daisy, were not present.

"I've been keeping an eye on Josh Hartnett's movements lately," Steve genuinely admired, "You actually managed to get his crumbled career back on track in such a unique way."

Caroline chimed in like a saleswoman, "I told you, when it comes to unconventional public relations and strategic planning, you can always count on Hawke."

"I have a bit of a situation, and I'm hoping you can help," Steve said, looking slightly troubled and unsure how to begin.

Suddenly, Hawke recalled something he had said to comfort Steve, wondering if it had something to do with his Black teammate Wilson's wife being pregnant. But considering the mix, the probability of having a Black child was far higher than a white one.

It didn't seem too serious.

Steve hesitated before continuing, "Ever since you helped me deal with that mess last time, I've quickly become one of the opinion leaders in the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People, NAACP, Los Angeles Chapter."

Hawke responded politely, "You're on the right path."

"After the recent peak of the civil rights movement, things in Los Angeles have gradually quieted down," Steve felt the benefits of the civil rights movement and showed no signs of stopping.

He continued, "I always believed this is an essential movement for America to become a beacon of freedom and democracy; it shouldn't just subside but should be carried out more vigorously."

Hawke understood that Steve was dissatisfied with the status quo and wanted to continue pushing the civil rights movement.

Steve asked, "You have a lot of insights on this; could you guide me further?"

Hawke remained silent, contemplating. At this stage, buying for free is not suitable for Steve; things like kneeling down on one knee were missing a dead black guy.

Get a black guy to be killed by the LAPD? Obviously not suitable.

Hawke had a good relationship with the LAPD, and that route wouldn't be cost-effective; it could also backfire.

Seeing Hawke lost in thought, Steve quickly added, "You don't need to worry about expenses; I have a sufficient budget."

"Are you in a rush?" Hawke asked.

Steve said, "Before October."

Hawke nodded slightly, "Give me some time. I'll come up with a complete plan."

He created this statue-like character, which he had also used in other plans, and it was highly likely to be used again in the future. He couldn't allow this statue to fall just yet.

Given the current situation, there were still opportunities for long-term gains.

Hawke thoughtfully said, "Although I don't have a specific plan right now, I need to tell you in advance, Steve, that the new wave of the civil rights movement should preferably be peaceful, operating in a non-confrontational and non-violent manner, actively aligning with mainstream California, rather than becoming a disruptor of social order."

"I'll heed your advice," Steve replied, having tasted the sweetness of civil rights activism. He considered it a long-term endeavor; he might not listen to others, but he'd carefully ponder Hawke's words.

"I leave everything to you," Steve said.

Hawke stood up, shook his hand, and bid farewell.

Caroline said something to Steve and followed after.

...

Hawke heard the familiar sound of high heels clicking and said, "Your share is guaranteed."

"I just wanted to see if you needed me for anything," she responded. "What will I do if I don't participate and you only give me five percent?"

Hawke replied, "Just wait; if I need you, I'll call you."

As they reached the front hall of the club, Caroline kept trailing behind.

Hawke ignored her, pulled out his phone, and dialed Edward, asking, "Is he still out there?"

Edward replied, "Still watching outside, south side of the entrance, beneath the lamppost -- the Honda Accord."

Hawke hung up, found a spot, and pointed outside at the Honda. "Do you see that car? There's a jerk in there who's been tailing me all day. Go grab some eggs and throw them at his windshield."

Miss Baa was taken aback, pointing at her Chanel coat and then swinging her LV bag. "You want a fashion-forward woman like me to do something so uncouth?"

Hawke shook his head, "I really shouldn't have expected much from this little sheep."

"How about I help with strategy, contacting the media, and writing copy instead?" Caroline suggested, worried about being left out and not making any money. "That's more my expertise."

Hawke agreed and prepared to leave.

Caroline asked, "How do we handle that jerk?"

Hawke said, "The guy in the car is a paparazzo. He doesn't even know he's been exposed; there's no rush to deal with him now. A paparazzo following someone like me, who has little news value, likely has someone pulling the strings. I'll just wait for a good opportunity to mess with him a bit - you handle spreading the word to make sure L.A. paparazzi learn their lesson."

Caroline quickly replied, "I'm good at spreading that kind of news."

Hawke got in the car, took a few laps around the block, and headed to Artel Mountain Shooting Range to practice shooting.

Erica was already waiting there.

Edward followed in shortly to join a concealed carry course exam.

...

In Hollywood, Ackerman Charity Rescue Station.

Eighty-year-old Rubén drove an old Dodge pickup, having traveled for several hours, finally arrived in Los Angeles from the small town of Chula Vista, bordering Tijuana.

He drove past the rescue station, turned left at the intersection ahead, and entered the parking lot behind the station.

The afternoon sun hit the windshield, and Rubén's eyes felt blurry. He slowed down and parked in an available spot.

Turning off the engine and removing the key, he placed it behind the sun visor as before and got out of the car, walking off into the distance.

On the other side of the parking lot, a young Mexican ran over to Campos, saying, "Another car has arrived."

Campos, who was eating, put down his food and moved to a concealed spot in the dilapidated building, pulling out binoculars to observe the parking lot. He first spotted the old Dodge pickup, then saw Rubén slowly exiting the parking lot.

That old man was quite elderly, appearing to struggle with his legs.

Campos took out his Nokia, which had just been charged the night before and would last a while longer.

He pulled out his car keys from his pocket and instructed the young Mexican, "Stay put. If I'm not back by nightfall, go to the main road and find those three black guys."

The young Mexican, around his teens, understood and spoke simple English, "I understand."

Taking advantage of the lack of attention, Campos quickly moved into the parking lot, getting into the car provided by DaShawn.

He laid the seat back so that no one outside would notice someone inside the car, while also ensuring he could keep an eye on the Dodge.

After a while, a bald Mexican approached the parking lot, seemingly like a regular driver, heading towards the old Dodge.

However, the bald man looked around as he walked, ensuring there were no unusual situations, opened the Dodge's door, searched for the keys, started it, and drove out of the spot.

But Campos didn't make any move.

The bald man drove out of the parking lot, turned onto the main road, then suddenly stopped, glancing back towards where he came from.

After a few minutes, no cars came from the parking lot.

Seeing no followers around, he relaxed and restarted his vehicle, heading north.

Moments later, Campos leisurely drove out, turned onto the main road, and looked toward the roadside.

A Mexican homeless man pointed in the direction the Dodge had gone.

Campos chased after it, quickly spotting the old Dodge in the flow of traffic.

While in Mexico, he had done this kind of work, skillfully using the traffic to hide crucial movements from the car in front.

The Dodge meandered through North Hollywood, turning back south, eventually crossing through West Los Angeles and entering the seaside town of Venice. It arrived at a parking lot, where the driver switched to a Mercedes G-Wagon and entered an open single-family villa area.

Seeing the G-Wagon slow down, Campos parked far away, watching the G-Wagon drive into a villa with red tiles and yellow walls.

The car did not come out after it went in.

Campos waited for a while before driving past the front normally, turning to see the house number before leaving the community.

A few minutes later, he parked in a lot on Abbott Kinney Boulevard and dialed Hawke's number.

No one answered on the other end.

Campos immediately switched numbers and called Edward, getting through this time.

He quickly relayed the situation.

...

At the Artel Mountain shooting range, Edward dashed out of the indoor area and headed to outdoor range three, finding Hawke and Erica practicing shotguns.

The safety officer wouldn't let Edward enter the shooting range, so he waved repeatedly.

Hawke noticed this, immediately put away his gun, signaled to Erica, who was wearing earplugs, and first headed outside.

Erica followed closely behind, with the gun pointed upwards.

Hawke asked, "What's going on?"

Edward replied, "The butterfly."

This wasn't the place to talk, so Hawke gestured for Erica to join him back inside, seeking a vacant room.

"A few minutes ago, Campos called, reporting that the Mule Gang was moving goods," Edward summarized. "He followed them to Venice and is waiting near Abbott Kinney Boulevard."

Hawke said, "That should be a hideout, and it's still concealed within a wealthy area."

Erica analyzed, "I know that villa area in Venice; the development company had been trying to sell properties there. The villas are quite pricey, and so is the rent. Regular gangs wouldn't be able to stay there; it must be the Mule Gang's notable figures in Los Angeles."

Hawke agreed, "Now, we've caught their tail."

"Tell your people to wait a bit," Erica considered not so much apprehending them but rather focusing on maximizing their benefits, including for Hawke: "If what I believe is true, we need to think of a comprehensive plan."

She began to negotiate, "If I report this, I'll surely gain credit. But how is your side benefitting from this?"

Hawke tapped his fingers lightly on the armrest, thinking for a moment before responding, "You're right; we must ensure our interests first before considering other factors."

He formulated an initial idea: "As far as I know, LAPD's reputation has been tarnished in the past two years. Their annual donations haven't shown a significant increase, am I right?"

"That's correct; there have been too many scandals from Parker Center to precincts across the board in the last two years," Erica confirmed. "Most of the scandals have been widely reported. Parker Center kept pushing me forward, which had to do with family factors, but primarily for the sake of improving LAPD's image."

Hawke continued, "How effective has it been? Have you adapted personally?"

Erica could sense he was planning something, and she answered seriously, "The results have been quite good. How do I put it? I feel positive about it, and the important thing is there's a chance for a promotion."

With accomplishments, background, and being a star officer in the LAPD, as long as nothing major happened, her future was promising.

Hawke sensed high feasibility and said, "I have an idea. Let's turn this capture operation into an image PR and building plan for LAPD, mobilizing the best of SWAT to take out this group decisively. We will film the entire process and share it through partnered media outlets. Let the public, taxpayers, and donors see LAPD's strength and determination."

Some things he couldn't say to the higher-ups at LAPD, but Erica could talk to them.

Hawke added, "Crime has gradually penetrated the wealthy areas, and LAPD must showcase its determination and capability to combat it. After the incident gains traction, a fundraising or other appropriately themed event should be held, and the effect will surely be great."

Erica looked at Hawke, "You see it more comprehensively than I do, but this is something my direct supervisor cannot decide on either."

Hawke suggested, "How about we check the site first? Then you can get in touch with your boss."

"Let's go," Erica packed her things and headed out.

Both were on the same wavelength; if they couldn't secure enough benefits, they'd rather play dumb and seek opportunities later.

Hawke told Edward, "Drive the Cadillac to the side entrance; we'll get in from there."

Erica noticed something off, "What's happening?"

"A tail's been following me; I don't know who hired a paparazzo," Hawke said while walking. "I've had my share of victims with the things I've been doing lately."

Erica pondered, "It couldn't be a particularly high-end opponent." Always decisive in action, she added, "If LAPD acts, I can have someone ram into him. We'll detain him for assaulting an officer and obstructing justice until we find out who is pulling the strings behind him."

Hawke thought to himself, just as well -- this year's LAPD was certainly far bolder compared to a decade later.

Imagine, two groups of LAPD could engage in a shootout in the streets.

He still asked, "Don't get yourself into trouble, okay?"

Erica smiled, saying, "It's just a minor matter."

Not one to be overly serious, Hawke didn't press further.

Both emerged from the side door, got into Edward's Cadillac, and headed towards the southwest to Venice.

...

After meeting Campos at Abbott Kinney Boulevard, they got him into the Cadillac. Following his directions, Edward drove through the community for a tour.

The villa had two gates -- a main and a back entrance, the latter connected to a narrow driveway leading straight to the beachfront highway.

Like many mid-range suburban villas, the residences didn't have walls; the courtyards were mostly lawns, surrounded by beautiful flower beds with wooden fence walls.

Erica started making calls from the car, dialing multiple numbers before instructing Edward to head to the detective bureau.

...

Soon enough, they pulled up outside the detective bureau.

Hawke, Campos, and Edward entered a lounge, waiting for word from Erica.

Edward grew impatient, standing up from time to time to check.

Hawke asked Campos, "Can you operate a camera?"

"I can, and I'm fairly proficient," Campos replied. "I received training when I was in training. Our instructor advised us to find the goods and capture them immediately to prevent anyone from..."

He couldn't continue talking here. All this was useless in Mexico.

Hawke was aware of the situation.

After a little over an hour, the door to the lounge was pushed open from the outside, and Erica walked in. "We're going upstairs," she told Hawke.

Following her out of the lounge, Hawke asked, "What's the outcome?"

Erica said, "I reported to them; they discussed it and found this plan highly viable, but they wanted to understand the details more."

...

They reached a conference room on the second floor, and Erica knocked and went in.

Only three people were inside, one of whom was Suzy, with whom Hawke had interacted twice; she was in charge of LAPD's media relations.

The other two included Lieutenant Johnson from the detective bureau and Deputy Chief Evans from Parker Center.

Given that this matter concerned the entire image of LAPD, everyone appeared exceptionally solemn.

Hawke calmly presented a more detailed plan.

Evans asked, "So, you mean we collaborate with your studio and you'll communicate with the television station?"

This felt akin to outsourcing to him.

Hawke was prepared: "If we let the TV station come directly, it could turn into uncontrollable factors. First, there's the confidentiality; TV stations are unpredictable. If the operation becomes too significant, it could easily alert the criminals. Additionally, if the operation doesn't go smoothly, and the TV station insists on airing it, it would put us at a disadvantage. I also collaborated with LAPD during the yacht incident, and we coordinated seamlessly."

Everyone in attendance understood the nature of media reporters.

If LAPD succeeded in their action, it would be a headline news story; if they failed, it would be explosive headlines.

After that, stopping them would be problematic.

They couldn't just shoot those reporters and cameramen indiscriminately.

Evans appeared puzzled, glancing at Suzy, who then provided a brief explanation.

They asked Hawke more specific questions, eventually letting him leave for the time being.

Suzy made it clear about Hawke's previous informal collaborations with LAPD.

Robert Downey Jr. and the yacht incident had earned Hawke unanimous praise from LAPD.

Erica generally explained recent operational cases concerning Steve Nutt and the selfie scandal in the West Voice Records.

The outcomes of these two PR efforts caught the attention of several high-ranking LAPD officials.

General people could only dream of achieving such results.

Not only did a criminal's image get scrubbed clean, but it also became wildly popular.

In the end, LAPD decided to implement this public relations and image-building plan.

Suzy and Hawke would handle the media aspect while the detective bureau and SWAT would handle the operations.

...

Afterward, Suzy spoke with Hawke privately.

As this would be their first official cooperation, the video recording and processing aspect would require oversight from LAPD's media and public relations office - essentially supervised by Suzy - while the West Coast studio would liaise with media outlets.

However, the outsourcing fee for this incident stood at a modest $100,000.

Hawke did not mind, seeing it as a long-term strategy benefit.

Erica approached as Suzy left to give them space to talk.

Hawke asked, "How can I thank you? You must have put in a lot of work."

"The biggest benefit still goes to LAPD, well, to the people on my line," Erica closed the door and said. "You're the one who spotted the lead, and the news tip came from you -- can't let you leave empty-handed."

She checked her watch. "We'll act soon. You've got that tail, right? Take this opportunity to deal with him."

Hawke, not one to follow customary practices, replied, "Sure, let's see if we can find out who's behind him."

Erica responded, "Just a little maneuvering will do; don't forget -- Los Angeles is LAPD's territory."

*****

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