[Chapter 453: A Man's Wrath]
The night was completely dark. Mills finished his burger and fries, ordered another Coke, and waited until nearly 10 p.m., but the target hadn't shown up. There were fewer people outside now. After waiting a while longer and sensing the target might not co, Mills packed up and drove off.
He returned several nights in a row but still hadn't encountered the target, Thompson.
Yet Mills wasn't ready to give up.
The hatred born from losing his family could only be cleansed with blood.
Over the past year, after his parents died and he had to drop out of college, Mills had witnessed many ugly truths about Arica. The insurance company refused to compensate him financially; the dia gave him no platform to speak; politicians denied him any legal recourse; and the law offered no basic fairness. So Mills had no choice but to seek justice his own way.
...
As night fell again, Mills sat in a McDonald's, calmly eating fries. He realized sothing -- in this world, only one thing remained truly fair: life itself. People, once killed, die for good. Whether there's heaven or hell afterward, Mills didn't know nor did he care.
As ti passed, fewer people lingered outside the mall. The target, Thompson, still hadn't appeared. Checking his watch after 10 p.m., Mills grabbed his black backpack and prepared to leave but paused, then sat back down.
Through the glass window, a dark figure crossed the street lamps' light patches, running towards the mall. Mills turned to look, fixated.
The figure got closer and soon appeared beneath a streetlight near the mall. Mills recognized the face -- it had haunted his dreams nightly recently. No mistake -- it was Art Thompson, forr CEO of Eunice Insurance.
According to Mills' lawyer's investigations, Thompson had orchestrated the bankruptcy of Eunice Insurance.
As the man approached, Mills put on his black hood and slung his backpack over his shoulder, exiting McDonald's through the side glass door like any ordinary custor.
...
Thompson liked night runs. Before New Year's, he'd chartered a yacht and thrown wild multi-day parties with models offshore. He had been dazed when he returned ho, lying in bed for days before resuming his usual night runs. This running route was very familiar to him. While running, he pondered how to start another company to keep making money.
Much of Eunice Insurance's funds had ended up in the pockets of Governor Schwarzenegger's wife, Maria Shriver. That kind of corruption was inevitable. Without Schwarzenegger's network, Thompson knew subsequent sches would face trouble, unlike the smooth sailing they enjoyed now.
Near McDonald's, Thompson's peripheral vision caught a hooded young man. He ran toward him, unaware Mills was following.
...
Mills, sure of his target's identity, quickened pace and drew his Colt revolver from his coat pocket. Having barely practiced shooting, he relied on online tutorials, gripping the gun with both hands.
Both were moving targets; hitting Thompson was difficult. When Mills closed to within three ters, he stopped, firmly gripping the revolver, aid at Thompson, and pulled the trigger.
Bang --
The gunshot rang out. Thompson's body bastarded; he instinctively glanced back. Mills' first shot hit Thompson's shoulder, missing the back center aim, but Thompson stopped, stunned by the impact.
Without pause, Mills fired again and again, the gun cracking until all six rounds were spent. Despite poor accuracy, all bullets struck Thompson's torso.
Thompson's strength drained; he stared at the young stranger in disbelief before collapsing softly to the ground.
A man's fury, blood spilled five paces.
When the law failed Mills, Mills delivered a ssage to the whole society.
...
Silence followed the gunfire. People across the street and inside McDonald's heard it. So peeked out cautiously but quickly shut their mouths to avoid attracting the shooter's attention.
Thompson's body twitched, blood pooling beneath him. He was surely dead -- perhaps the one fairness Arica could offer. Life cos only once.
Mills pocketed his revolver, lowered his hood, turned back, slipped into a nearby alley, and sped away.
...
Soone nearby called 911.
The area being affluent, sirens soon wailed. Within minutes, an LAPD patrol car arrived. Officers exited with guns drawn, checked Thompson's body, radioed in the scene status, and requested backup.
In less than two minutes, another patrol car arrived, and surrounding units established a periter. The first officers interviewed witnesses and relayed descriptions back to Parker Center. Nearby patrol cars received updates, staying alert.
...
Though inexperienced, Mills was a regular college graduate who'd planned his escape route. After leaving the scene, he boarded the subway to quickly put distance between himself and West Los Angeles.
But witnesses had seen him leaving McDonald's. Being caught by LAPD was likely only a matter of ti.
Before detectives arrived, journalists and freelancers got there first. A shooting in a wealthy neighborhood drew far less dia frenzy than one in downtown Los Angeles.
Reporters quickly identified the victim: forr CEO of a bankrupt insurance company. The news rapidly spread online, hitting websites within minutes.
Though the shooting of a millionaire ex-CEO stirred so attention, it wasn't headline-grabbing in Los Angeles, where millionaires were plentiful -- Hollywood alone had a whole slew.
---
In Beverly Hills, lrose Place:
Pearson finished his evening at the nightclub and drove back to the Ritz-Carlton hotel where he was staying.
In the suite's conference room, several operatives who had been out gathering intelligence during the day had returned. One Chinese man reported, "Boss, my intel shows that before Eunice Insurance's bankruptcy, over 30% of funds were transferred, through business partnerships and charitable donations, into a foundation controlled by Maria Shriver, Schwarzenegger's wife."
"Any illegalities found?" Pearson asked.
The man shrugged. "The last step was charitable donation - no way to prove misconduct."
The mixed-race man chid in, "These rich folks live lavishly. The IRS claims to be powerful, but even they back down against the super wealthy."
A Latino added, "They're taking others' money, but risking their own lives. Kennedy, Carter, and Reagan set good examples."
Pearson interrupted, "Any update on Mills?"
"No news yet," the mixed-race man said, pulling out his BlackBerry to search online again.
The Latino added, "Hope he's not chicken."
Pearson shook his head, "No chance. We've provoked him continuously."
Suddenly, the mixed-race man exclaid, "Got it! Boss, news just broke!"
Pearson took the BlackBerry, viewing a Twitter page reporting:
"Shooting outside an affluent West Los Angeles neighborhood: victim identified as Art Thompson, forr CEO of Eunice Insurance. Sources say he was attacked from behind by an unknown gunman, suffering six gunshot wounds. LAPD arrived to find him fatally wounded."
Everyone pulled out phones to read related articles.
The Chinese quietly read, "Shooter is still at large. LAPD is interviewing witnesses and hunting aggressively."
Mission accomplished. Pearson put down his phone. "Abort current identities and scatter."
He looked at the mixed-race man, "Are our tracks clean with the firm yet?"
"All wiped. Sold the gear to a black buyer," the man said. "Our identities are fake. Mills may sense we're escalating, but without evidence, LAPD can't link us."
Pearson turned to the Chinese, "After leaving the hotel, imdiately contact our dia contacts to fast-track exposure on Thompson. Once the shooter is caught and identified, release the connection."
The Chinese adjusted his glasses. "Scripts are ready."
Pearson emphasized, "Our targets are LA's political core: Arnold Schwarzenegger and Brian Ferguson. We must drag both into this dia storm to expose the party's shaless truth."
"Fake can be real, and things can be fabricated," the Chinese smiled. "We have the victims to prove it."
Work finished, everyone left, dropping lawyer covers to beco freelance journalists.
...
Under the night sky, LAPD's West Division and homicide detectives launched full investigations.
When a rich person dies in a wealthy community, LAPD acts fast. For ordinary victims in general or poor neighborhoods, solving cases depends on luck; pursues often fail and cases go cold.
But the public killing of a millionaire in a high-end LA community prompted a significant and intense police response.
*****
spatreon/Sayonara816.
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