[Chapter 199: Must Acquire Twitter]
San Francisco, at the Santa Clara Business Club.
Douglas walked into a conference room with a briefcase in hand. After waiting for a mont, he heard a knock on the door. He walked over and opened it to reveal a beautiful blonde woman entering the room.
Although the woman was nearing thirty, her looks suggested she was around twenty-five. She had a tall figure and delicate features.
Douglas shook her hand and said, "Emma, long ti no see."
The woman smiled, "You look even more handso than before. Got any big deals on your plate?"
Douglas got straight to the point, opening his briefcase and pulling out so docunts to hand over to her.
Emma looked closely at the docunts. In the upper left corner was a blurry photo of a man with short black hair, wearing black-rimd glasses. He had a lean build and an unremarkable face. Below the photo was the identification: Hawke Osnt, founder of West Coast dia Entertainnt Studio and Twitter.
Emma reviewed the information and said, "The founder of Twitter, quite an impressive figure. I'm a Twitter user myself."
She understood why he was seeking her help. "There are many business interdiaries in San Francisco and California. Why choose ?"
Douglas replied, "Don't underestimate your abilities. You're one of the most formidable female interdiaries in Silicon Valley. Plus, your looks might appeal to Hawke Osnt."
Emma asked, "So he has a thing for blondes?"
"Not just blondes." Douglas spoke softly, "Our prior contacts in Los Angeles ntioned that he was often seen with three won who had similar builds to yours, all with light brown or blonde hair."
He looked at Emma, "There aren't many beautiful won with business acun. You're the only one I know."
"Thanks for the complint. I accept it," Emma expressed with confidence, then asked, "What's our goal?"
Douglas stated, "We need to acquire his shares in Twitter. Price is negotiable, but we aim to beco primary shareholder at the least."
Emma had collaborated with Douglas's investnt company before. "I understand."
The two discussed the details further before parting ways.
...
Douglas got into his car and instructed the driver to go. Picking up his phone, he made a call, saying, "I've found the interdiary. She's reliable, but it will take so ti."
On the other end, the person replied, "This ti, those crude red trash in Los Angeles opened the way. Twitter has played an important role in public opinion propagation and guidance. We have an advantage in the dia industry, and this new dia tool, Twitter, must be in our hands."
Douglas understood the stakes. This involved the red-blue rivalry in Sacranto. Currently, Gray Davis was heavily suppressed, and their blue camp was already strategizing for the long term.
He responded, "It may cost over a hundred million dollars."
"Twitter is widely regarded favorably. The investnt is worth it," the person inquired, "Have the safety asures been prepared?"
Douglas confird, "Of course."
"That's great," the caller said before hanging up.
Douglas glanced at the assistant in the front seat and said, "You need to go to Los Angeles and stay there for so ti. If Emma's efforts don't go smoothly, find that guy." 𝖗𝐀Νo͍BЁ𝐬
"Understood." The assistant lowered his head to look at the docunts in hand.
The individual ntioned was Miller Collins, a forr star wide receiver of the San Diego Chargers.
Last year, he was embroiled in a scandal, sued by endorsent brands for damages, and had connections with a Los Angeles gang known for attacking Fox News host and Hawke Osnt's West Coast studio, which resulted in a one-year prison sentence.
During his ti in prison, his wife, Maria Collins, divorced him, taking all his assets. Miller was also left to pay alimony to his wife and daughter.
While in prison, the Chargers had already terminated his contract. From a millionaire sports star to bankruptcy and still having to pay alimony.
The assistant quickly found a work breakthrough.
...
anwhile, Emma Batson returned to her consulting firm in the Bay Area and imdiately called a team eting.
That afternoon, a total of seven team mbers left San Francisco for Los Angeles.
Upon arriving at Los Angeles International Airport, Emma's assistant received the latest news.
The assistant said, "I have a colleague at Fox who specifically inquired about Hawke Osnt with Channel 11."
Emma directly asked, "What are his interests?"
The assistant replied, "Fitness and firearms."
"Uh?" Emma was sowhat surprised.
...
West Los Angeles, at the Artel Mountain Shooting Range.
On the clay shooting field, Erica pressed the launch button, sending two red clay pigeons soaring into the sky.
Hawke grabbed a double-barreled shotgun, hardly aiming, and using instinct alone, fired twice, turning the pigeons into fragnts in mid-air.
He skillfully reloaded, inserting two fresh bullets, and as the next set of clay pigeons launched, he shot again, hitting them.
Brian, plugging his ears, entered from outside the shooting range, watching the pair excitedly practicing their shooting. He picked up a pair of earplugs from the workbench to wear.
Finally, the world beca quiet.
Hawke continued firing, shooting a total of thirty rounds in one go.
Erica noticed Brian arriving and waved at Hawke.
Hawke removed his earplugs, hoisted the walnut gun stock onto his shoulder, and walked toward the rest area.
Erica ca over from the pigeon controller and asked, "How's the gun?"
Hawke gave a thumbs up, "It's fantastic. Feels great in my hands, perfect for both competitive shooting and hunting."
He placed the gun on the rack and sat across from Brian, saying, "Buddy, thanks for the gun."
Brian glanced at the firearm, "Is this a gift from ?"
Hawke nodded slightly, "That's right, one of the many you've given ."
"Hey, my dear cousin," Erica interjected, "You've never given a gun."
Brian redirected the animosity, "That's sothing Hawke needs to do, I won't interfere."
Hawke remarked, "You can grab whichever gun you fancy."
Erica deliberately raised an eyebrow, "Really? I can just take it? Use it freely?"
Brian rapped the table, reminding them, "There's still a single guy here! Can you two show a little restraint? Enough with the lovey-dovey acts!"
Erica said, "I forgot to tell you. A while back, Jennifer Huey called . She's been transferred to the FBI's Los Angeles office and may have already started her position."
"What?" Brian exclaid, astonished.
Hawke asked, "Jennifer Huey? That na sounds familiar. Where have I heard it?"
Erica reminded him, "In Wyoming, when we were hunting near your farm, that FBI agent who led the team ca to our rescue after the attack."
Hawke recalled that Erica had ntioned the agent had been pursuing Brian since they attended Stanford.
Brian groaned, "Oh God, what's she doing in Los Angeles?"
Hawke teased, "Of course she's co to find you. You two are rekindling your old fla and headed to the altar..."
"Stop! Stop!" Brian interrupted emphatically, "There was never anything between us before!"
Erica said seriously, "The supervisor of the FBI in Los Angeles is older and focused on a stable retirent. The recent incident with Wagenen getting shot has upset the headquarters, and don't forget, the current FBI director was appointed from the Oval Office. They've reshuffled personnel in Los Angeles, and one of the deputies returned to D.C., replaced by Jennifer."
Hawke understood, "Those bastards might have successfully silenced us, but not without a cost."
Brian sighed, "If you do sothing profitable, you naturally have to bear the consequences."
He paused briefly and added, "California used to be the Republican stronghold and cradle. Those fools' series of ssed-up operations have turned California from red to blue..."
Erica, while not directly involved in politics, was sowhat aware, "Schwarzenegger has a good chance this ti."
Brian nodded, "Exactly. They've got the knives out, aiming straight for Gray Davis."
Hawke asked, "Did you report on Owen's situation?"
Brian replied, "So far, there's been no movent; they're worried he might commit suicide."
Erica interjected, "Jennifer showing up now must be related to Owen's case."
Hawke pointed at Brian, "For the sake of the Republican cause, go for it! Make your sacrifices!"
Erica laughed, "Grandma has t Jennifer and thinks she's nice."
"Get back to business!" Brian snapped at the bickering pair, "Stop joking around!"
Hawke stated earnestly, "This is business. If you want to gain attention and beco a true political newcor, you need to play a key role at this crucial ti."
Brian considered this, picking up his phone to scroll through numbers, "Should I call her now?"
Erica suggested, "Send a text first; what if she's at work..."
Brian had already sent the text.
He received a quick reply: "I'm at work, we'll talk later."
...
Covina, several SUVs with FBI logos drove through an intersection onto Main Street.
Jennifer Huey, with her neat short hair, put her phone away and looked out the window.
The convoy arrived at a villa, and Jennifer picked up the intercom, saying, "According to reliable intelligence, several ard individuals are among Owen Nester's subordinates. Stay safe."
She emphasized, "Once we're inside, take control imdiately!"
"Understood!"
"Got it!"
The other vehicles responded promptly.
The cars stopped by the roadside, and with a command from Jennifer, ten agents equipped with assault rifles, submachine guns, shotguns, and bulletproof vests quickly exited the vehicles. Following the pre-planned strategy, four headed to the back door, blocking any escape routes.
The remaining agents followed Jennifer as she led the charge, using a door breacher to burst into the villa.
...
Hearing the loud commotion, Fowler assud sothing had happened and instinctively grabbed a shotgun.
Before he could chamber a round, two elite agents stord into the foyer, shouting, "FBI! Legal search! Show us your hands!"
Although Fowler wasn't the brightest, he quickly recognized the agents behind them, ard and wearing tactical vests with FBI insignias. He dropped the shotgun and raised his hands high.
One agent asked, "Where is Owen Nester?"
Facing the guns, Fowler pointed towards the study.
...
Jennifer imdiately led her team there.
One agent kicked the door open, shouting, "FBI! Open up!"
Minutes later, Owen Nester, in handcuffs, was brought into the living room.
Jennifer presented the docuntation, ordering her subordinates to search the villa, where they found a large number of videos of abuse of won and minors on Owen's computer.
These videos were all from the internet, but as they involved minors, possession alone constituted a cri.
Owen was taken away.
*****
/Sayonara816.
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