The Wolf of Los Angeles

[Chapter 257: The Hunt]

East Los Angeles, the gym was buzzing.

Edward shook his head, pedaling furiously on an exercise bike, his eyes frequently drifting towards the one in front.

On that bike was a Latina woman, and because of how she was seated, her ample figure seemed to overflow onto the small bike seat.

Edward deeply suspected the tiny seat would be swallowed whole.

It was simply terrifying.

Hawke passed by the spinning bike area, gesturing with the sports drink in his hand.

Edward stopped, dismounted, walked over, accepted the bottle, took a small sip, and followed Hawke toward the relaxation area.

As he walked, he looked back and said, "Jennifer Lopez's backside is just too big."

Hawke asked, "You mean the woman in front of you?"

Edward pointed at the spinning bike area. "Yeah! She was just in front of me pedaling. Can you imagine?"

Hawke chuckled, "Is that the charm of the Latina pop queen?"

"Way too big," Edward replied. "Is that really attractive?"

Hawke raised an eyebrow in surprise, "Aren't you guys into that kind of thing?"

Once they entered the relaxation area, Edward added, "Sure, a lot of people are into that, but I'm the exception."

"You prefer single moms," Brian interjected, wiping sweat from his brow as he approached Edward. "Last time you mentioned you were pursuing Miller Collins' ex-wife."

Edward felt quite proud of this. "We're already dating."

Brian thought of the scumbag who nearly sent him on a free flight after that car bomb incident and made a suggestion. "Buddy, keep it up. Really go for it -- give it your all!"

Edward laughed cheerfully.

But Hawke knew this was no ordinary savior; he was always trying to pull people back from the brink.

Thus, he had danced on the grave of Robert Downey Jr., sharing a duet with Deborah.

He even planned to perform a tandem dance in front of Miller Collins' headstone.

Unfortunately, the latter had been blown to bits; only pieces remained, scattered, and he had yet to be buried.

Since the car explosion, Brian had signed up for a super membership here and started his fitness regimen.

His goal was straightforward: in case of danger, he wanted to be able to run faster and farther.

The three of them took a moment to rest, changed their clothes, and prepared to leave the gym.

...

At the entrance, they bumped into Jennifer Lopez, and seeing a swarm of media reporters outside, Hawke called out to Edward and Brian to wait a bit before leaving.

The pop diva, wearing tight pants, stepped outside but didn't get into her vehicle right away. Instead, she posed, accentuating her curves, giving the reporters plenty of opportunities to take photos.

After fussing around for about ten minutes, Jennifer Lopez finally got into her car and drove off.

Once the reporters scattered, Edward drove their car over.

Brian joined Hawke in getting into the car.

As the car started, Hawke said, "My guy just arrived in San Francisco."

Brian understood. "My guy has been secretly tracking Douglas Coster's whereabouts. He wasn't exactly a low-profile guy in San Francisco; we've pretty much figured out where he commonly goes."

The two had long decided against taking action in Los Angeles. While Douglas was still in the city, Brian's guy had already spread out in San Francisco.

Campos had just contacted Hawke yesterday. The revenge-seeking Native American had hired private investigators Garcia and Carlos, and they were driving toward San Francisco.

Hawke instructed, "Have your guy find a place to stash the goods there; my team will go and pick them up directly."

He paused and added, "Are the weapons ready?"

"Ready," Brian confirmed, having been keeping a close watch on this matter. "We got them from Mexico, brand-new barrels, never fired."

Hawke was satisfied. "What about the rest?"

Brian knew Hawke had a particularly daring streak, so he said, "Don't use bombs or anything like that. It's too messy to clean up later."

"Don't worry, I won't go about it openly," Hawke simply said. "I'll go with a gun or poison."

Brian nodded, "We have cyanide ready."

"Good," Hawke clapped on the driver's seat. "Hero, you'll take a turn for a run."

Edward replied, "Got it."

Around noon, Jennifer Huey invited Hawke, Brian, and Erica to lunch together.

Upon arriving at the restaurant, as soon as Hawke and Brian got out of the car, Edward drove away. He called Campos midway, and they found a place to enjoy their lunch together.

...

San Francisco Bay Area, Santa Clara.

A large SUV rolled into the skateboard park parking lot, maneuvering into an empty space. The driver of the vehicle, wearing a hoodie, stepped outside to tie his shoelaces, and casually tucked the car keys underneath the front tire.

Having done all that, the driver stood up slowly and walked unhurriedly toward the parking lot exit.

He had previously scoped the area in a different outfit, choosing a route with minimal surveillance.

Before long, the figure disappeared into the night.

...

At a motel in San Jose, Carlos and Garcia, with fake mustaches stuck on their faces, had been in San Francisco for a few days.

With the deposit from Lokni, they had come early to set up.

By day, they explored; by night, they returned, changing their accommodations every day, conducting a thorough investigation of the Bay Area's BlackRock San Francisco branch.

Yet, they had yet to lay eyes on Douglas Coster himself.

The guy had returned to San Francisco and was still keeping a low profile. He traveled in a bulletproof car that went straight into a secure underground parking garage of a heavily guarded office building.

When headed home, his car would return directly to his expansive mansion.

During these past few days, Douglas had only been making the commute between his company and home -- one unchanging route.

It was evident he was being extremely cautious, even after returning to San Francisco.

Carlos was munching on dinner when his phone suddenly buzzed with a text message.

The message was from a newly activated number that simply read: "Santa Clara, skateboard park, take St. Thomas Avenue, license plate number..."

Garcia devoured his sandwich, drank a can of soda, and asked, "Got a lead?"

Carlos showed him the message before swiftly deleting it. "Let's go."

The two quickly finished eating and tidied up the room before heading down to the motel, hopping into the used Cherokee they had bought in Tracy, and headed toward Santa Clara.

...

These two small towns were right next to each other, so it didn't take long before they reached the Santa Clara city center. After turning onto St. Thomas Avenue, they quickly found the skateboard park.

However, they didn't rush over right away. They circled the area a couple of times to confirm there were no watchers before having one of them exit the car, walking toward the park parking lot while the other kept a distance behind to scout the surroundings.

After getting a heads-up from Garcia that there were no issues, Carlos entered the parking lot, spotted the commercial vehicle, retrieved the keys from beneath the front tire, entered the vehicle, started it up, and drove out of the parking lot, making his way back to the motel in San Jose.

Once he parked the car, Garcia joined him inside, checking the seats one by one, and found a bag beneath two of them.

Each of them picked up a bag and headed back upstairs to their room.

One of the bags contained disassembled rifle parts and ammunition.

The other was a sealed box filled with cyanide.

The second bag was packed with a wealth of documents detailing Douglas Coster's frequent hangouts and the individuals he interacted with regularly.

This was information Brian's team had invested significant time and resources to acquire.

Carlos examined the firearms while Garcia studied the documents closely.

...

The next morning, the two checked out of the motel with their belongings, driving in two different vehicles away from San Jose and regrouping with Lokni in Sunnyvale.

Upon seeing Carlos and Garcia, Lokni asked, "Any luck?"

"We've been observing for days and have uncovered some findings." Garcia placed the collected items before Lokni, declaring, "You pay, we work."

Lokni looked through the papers and found a record of Douglas' daily work habits and return home times, along with frequent contacts and places he visited outside of work and home, including a mistress.

Although eager to avenge his parents, he wasn't familiar with San Francisco. Reviewing the information didn't provide him with a proper choice.

Lokni suggested, "Let's check out these spots."

"Sounds good," Garcia added. "For some reason, Douglas has been very busy lately."

The three of them took a single car, scouring the Bay Area, focusing on spots Douglas had been known to visit.

On the way back, Carlos remarked, "Once this is done in San Francisco, you'll pay us the rest, and we won't know each other."

Lokni had some common sense. "If everything goes smoothly, I'll be leaving America."

He didn't specify where he'd go, but he had already planned it. When he worked for a hunting company in Denver, he would go to Africa many times a year to provide guide and hunting partner services to clients.

After avenging his parents, with nothing tying him to America, Africa would be a good move.

The vast plains and abundant wildlife there would offer him a life of freedom.

...

Back at the motel, the three began discussing.

Garcia noted, "The locations of BlackRock Company and his home are not suitable for action. The company has an underground parking lot that makes it tough to infiltrate, and the house is massive. Douglas only leaves the vehicle after he drives in, and there are no tall buildings around..."

Lokni, as a professional hunter, understood this. "Indeed."

Carlos proposed, "I think two places are quite suitable: one is a bar that Douglas frequented in the Bay Area, and the other is his mistress Natalia's residence."

He pulled out his phone, opened the photo gallery, and showed them the pictures taken that afternoon. "The bar is crowded; we could find a way to poison him with cyanide in his drink; he wouldn't come back from that."

Garcia scrolled through the photos and added, "Natalia's place is a beachfront villa, and there are a few taller buildings within a 200-meter radius, giving us an opportunity to strike from above."

Carlos asked, "At that distance, can you hit? Don't look at us; we don't have that skill. And we don't kill."

Lokni replied, "My gun can't do that."

"You can't use your gun," Garcia mentioned. "It'd easily trace back to you via ballistic analysis."

Lokni pleaded, "You guys help me get a gun." He pulled out his strongest negotiation tactic, "I'll pay extra!"

*****

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