[Chapter 226: Human Wave Tactics]
Under the night sky, in the parking lot of Venice Beach, Frank set up a barbecue grill.
Fat dripped onto the glowing charcoal, sizzling away. Hawke took a generous handful of lamb skewers, skillfully brushed oil and seasoning on them. The mouth-watering aroma of the marinated at instantly filled the air.
"Alright, you've learned my five-star barbecuing skills!"
Across from him, Frank took a big swig of beer and gave Hawke a thumbs up. "Just don't add that chili powder; I can't handle it."
Edward chid in, "A skewered at without chili has no soul."
Frank shot back, "That's sothing only a fool who's fit for fried chicken would say, so shut it."
Hawke, annoyed by their bickering, suggested, "Either you both help out with the grilling or zip it."
The two finally quieted down for a mont.
Once all the skewers were perfectly grilled, Hawke placed them on a stainless-steel platter and set it on the table.
Frank picked one up, took a bite, and remarked, "Barbecue made by a future billionaire sure tastes different."
Edward opened a can of beer and poured so for Frank, saying, "A future billionaire personally pouring you a drink."
At that mont, Frank felt invigorated, as if he had returned to Hollywood's glory days.
Hawke pulled him back to reality with, "A toast from a future billionaire to a past billionaire."
Frank's enthusiasm dimd instantly, and as he clinked glasses with Hawke, he advised, "Stay focused on being good to your wife in the future, or you'll end up like ."
Edward, taking a page from Caroline's advanced tactics, jumped in before Hawke could respond, "That's because your brother is lacking; my boss is the acknowledged king of the lamp post!"
Those words made Frank involuntarily eye the lamp post beside them, which stood over ten feet tall, a few feet in diater, looking quite intimidating.
If one had such a background, dealing with an ex-wife or ex-girlfriend would be a piece of cake.
Hawke grabbed a can of beer and poured so for Frank, toasting him again. "I haven't had a chance to thank you for your help with Kinsley."
Frank perked up again, curiosity winning over. "Still the sa as before?"
Hawke emptied his cup, adding, "I don't know how she was before, but she's tangled up with St. Beatrice Church and St. Beatrice's Welfare School over the kids."
Frank understood imdiately. "Hollywood hasn't changed over the years; it's always been that ss."
Edward recalled hearing the tape of Kinsley. "They always say Compton is the cri capital of Los Angeles. I used to think the sa way, even felt inferior for coming from there. But after being with my boss these past two years, I found Compton's cri rates are negligible compared to the stuff those wealthy and famous play with." ȐάNȱＢËŜ
"You seem to have a bit of sense." Frank offered an unusual complint to the Savior. He added, "It's only with money, power, and resources that one can commit more heinous acts in this lawful society. Wandering the streets with an AK, you only end up killing small fries, and within minutes you'll get shot dead yourself. How much commotion could that really cause?"
Hawke asked, "There must have been similar scandals in the Catholic Church before. Has anything ever surfaced to completely expose them?"
"Never, never at all." Frank shook his head. "Their sins have been known for centuries, but they never confront it, preferring to take care of the ones who pose problems rather than actually solving the problems."
Edward suddenly had an idea. "What if we can make Kinsley stir up so trouble and then get her taken care of?"
Frank raised a skewer, pointing it at him. "You planning to make her cause trouble? Once she gets taken care of, they'll get rid of you too!"
"Those scumbags, especially the ones who pretend to be saviors, are revolting." The real Savior was quite displeased with the false pretenders. "Just thinking about it makes want to puke."
As the conversation grew heavy, Edward suddenly found the skewers a lot less appetizing.
Hawke and Frank didn't know what to say.
At Fox 11, gan hadn't communicated anything either.
It was clear that Fox was reluctant to poke that hornet's nest.
After a while, Hawke suggested, "If all else fails, we'll launch a human wave tactic."
This was also considering that Campos's crew, the kids exposed by the church, hailed from Latin Arica.
Frank inquired, "What human wave tactic?"
"How many dia outlets are there across Arica? Excluding the small ones, there are probably at least a few hundred influential ones." Hawke had resolved Tom Cruise's issue and could pivot his thoughts elsewhere. "When you factor in Europe and Australia, we could muster about a thousand dia outlets and send people to the more chaotic places in Latin Arica, shooting them emails."
Frank caught on. "You believe there will definitely be a hero among them?"
Hawke self-deprecatingly remarked, "Can't have all the dia being as opportunistic as us and ignoring the ethical issues."
Frank shook his head. "The mainstream dia is even more shaless than you think."
The three n continued their barbecue and drinks, engaged in casual chatting.
...
On the opposite side of Venice Beach, quite a few night owls road around.
Private detective Coulson put on a pair of flip-flops and strolled by the edge of the beach, using the parking lot's floodlights to catch a glimpse of the three n from afar.
There were photographers around, shooting night scenes, and he raised the cara hanging from his neck, pretending to take pictures of the beach and parking lot, seemingly ignoring the target amid a hodgepodge of snaps.
With the crowd and nurous people taking pictures, ordinary Coulson didn't attract any attention.
He settled down on an empty roadside bench, reviewing the photos he had taken with his digital cara, quickly locating two shots focusing specifically on his target.
The long lens captured the image clearly: three people, two young n and one older man.
The younger two were Hawke Osnt and his trusted aide, Edward Connor. The older man was sowhat unfamiliar but didn't matter much.
...
In the parking lot, Raul and Guti stood by the car, one smoking while the other sat on the high concrete steps, occasionally surveying the area.
In such a bustling location, they could only afford the most basic protective asures.
Raul took a swig from his water bottle, comnting, "I can't shake this weird feeling that soone's watching the boss."
Guti lifted a pair of binoculars for a closer look. "I can't find anyone, but I feel it too."
This feeling was odd; there was no evidence, yet it stemd from the valuable experience garnered from battles with drug traffickers back in xico.
Sotis, it was even a crucial key to survival.
Raul pulled out a newly equipped miniature walkie-talkie, calling out to Morentes hidden in the shadows: "I feel like soone's spying on the boss; keep an eye out, and don't expose your position."
Morentes replied from the dark, "Got it."
Guti then stood up, pacing around the beach parking lot.
Not long after, they hadn't spotted anyone, and the feeling of being watched faded away.
Raul quietly inford Hawke and Edward.
Since they couldn't pinpoint anyone specific, the matter eventually drifted off.
But Hawke remained cautious, paying more attention to their safety.
...
After eating their fill of barbecue, the three prepared to leave.
Frank turned to Edward, saying, "I heard you've been staying at the company lately? Perfect timing, co play a few rounds of pool with ."
With Tom Cruise's job finally wrapped up, Edward still wanted to find ti for his next target. "I'm busy processing a lot of affairs, I can't play."
Frank asked, "Busy squeezing waterlon juice?"
Edward had had enough of Frank's tongue tonight and shot back with a deadly strike: "I've got soone checking on your ex-wife's information."
"You dare!" Frank's eyes widened like saucers.
Edward shook his head. "Look, you're getting anxious again."
Hawke couldn't be bothered with the two, picking up a phone call. "Where are you?"
On the other end, Erica replied, "Just turned onto 20th Street, I'll be there shortly."
With the night filled with unrest, Hawke had barely drunk anything, giving Edward and Frank a wave as he headed toward the parking lot.
Edward followed up from behind, saying, "Boss, I have a new target in sight."
Hawke casually asked, "Who?"
"Rember Miller Collins?" Edward reminded, worried he might've forgotten. "The ex-football receiver who once harassed Eric. His ex-wife, Maria Collins, is now divorced with a daughter; I hear she's really nice."
Hawke wasn't surprised in the least; the Savior noted everything down for future use.
He waved it off: "Go for it, just don't let it impact work."
As they arrived at the parking lot exit, they waited just a few minutes when a red rcedes G-Class pulled up to the curb.
...
Hawke hopped into the passenger seat, directing Erica to drive.
Erica inquired, "Have you been drinking?"
"A little beer." Hawke admired her pretty profile. "Just wrapped up Tom Cruise's engagent, scored quite a bit of cash, and Frank helped a lot; the Savior and I treated him."
"How big is a big score?" Erica feigned curiosity to boost her boyfriend's ego.
Hawke answered candidly, "Three point five million dollars."
Erica gasped, "You hit the jackpot!"
Hawke knew most of her excitent was an act, yet it still felt good. "I'll get you a gift later."
"No need to wait." Erica said earnestly, "Give it to tonight."
That was nearly a clear hint.
...
Once back at the 20th Street villa, Erica pushed Hawke into the downstairs bathroom, telling him to clean off the barbecue sll.
She dashed upstairs to the master bedroom, quickly showering and changing into form-fitting white attire topped with light-colored pants, wearing no undergarnts.
When Hawke finished his shower and stepped out, he found Erica standing in the living room, a bucket of water at her feet.
Curiously, he wondered, "What ga are we about to play?"
Erica picked up a porcelain bowl, filling it with water while slowly pouring it down from her white shirt collar. "I've never tried the ice bucket challenge before."
Who could resist such temptation?
*****
/Sayonara816.
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