46-50

Chapter 46: There is truth in the world

---

*Morning, Hawk jogged out of Ranch Park.*

At the entrance, Frank, a beggar with a hat for donations, waved at Hawk, calling out, "Looks like someone's looking for you—a girl with a great figure."

Hawk had already noticed. Across the street, in front of the studio, a girl with a golden-brown ponytail and jeans was pacing on the sidewalk.

Frank asked, "Is she looking for you? Introduce me to her if she is."

Hawk shot back, "What, don't you have enough ex-wives yet? Didn't they wear you out? You want another round?"

Frank snorted, "I'm single and free now."

"So am I," Hawk muttered as he crossed Fountain Street, giving the girl a quick glance before asking, "Officer, who are you looking for?"

The girl turned around and recognized Hawk. She extended her hand and introduced herself, "Erica Ferguson. We met on Santa Monica Boulevard. Julian gave me your address."

"Hawk Osman," Hawk replied, shaking her hand while discreetly sizing her up. She wasn’t particularly beautiful, but she had a commanding presence.

She was tall, with golden-brown, shoulder-length hair, and her skin had a light tan from the sun. Her athletic build, toned from regular exercise, showed long legs and a slim waist.

She reminded Hawk a little of Erica Schmidt, a female athlete he had seen online in his previous life.

He guessed she was new to the job, as most experienced female cops were more like tanks.

Heavy tanks.

He asked, "So, what brings you here?"

Erica smiled. "I just wanted to thank you in person."

Hawk opened the door to his studio. "Come in."

Erica followed him inside, quickly surveying the tidy and orderly space.

Hawk pointed to his sweaty workout clothes. "I’m going to change. Make yourself comfortable."

He went upstairs, wiped off the sweat, and came back down in fresh clothes. "Tea or coffee? Not working today?"

"No, thanks," Erica said. "I’m on administrative leave."

"Trouble?" Hawk asked.

Erica hesitated slightly, "Just a few days off. I'll be back soon."

She paused, then added, "Without you, I might've lost my job."

Hawk shrugged, "No need to thank me for that. I just happened to be there and recorded everything."

He gave his usual line, "My conscience and professional ethics wouldn't allow me to stand by and let an innocent person take the blame."

Erica smiled, "You saved me from a lot of trouble. I’m new on the force, and if things had spiraled out of control, it could have been terrible... after all, the guy who died wasn’t just anyone."

Hawk bluntly replied, "I only saw a thug—a bastard who thought his fame could get him away with anything. He was a scumbag who tried to shoot a woman."

Suddenly, Erica found Hawk’s otherwise ordinary face quite agreeable.

"Oh, right, this is for you." She pulled out a special card from her bag and handed it to Hawk. "My boss asked me to give this to you. It’ll keep you out of trouble if you run into my colleagues."

Hawk took the card and politely said, "Thank you."

He'd heard of this LAPD exemption card—small issues like speeding wouldn’t be a problem even if caught.

Erica also gave him her contact information, "If you ever run into trouble in the West Division, you can call me."

This was useful to Hawk, so he accepted without hesitation. Just as he was about to say something else, the door creaked open and Edward walked in.

The big guy’s eyes widened as he saw Erica. "Boss, you move fast…"

Hawk cut him off. "This is Officer Erica Ferguson. She shot Donnie."

Hearing she was a cop, Edward immediately clammed up, forced to smile awkwardly.

After all, if this LAPD officer had the guts to shoot Robert Downey Jr., what chance did a Black guy like him have?

Erica took this moment to say her goodbyes.

Once she was gone, Edward asked, "Boss, you’re not thinking about dating her, are you?"

"Are you kidding? Having an LAPD officer around is asking for trouble," Hawk said, pulling Edward into his thinking, adding, "Erica’s a street cop, patrolling in celebrity-packed West LA. We might need her one day."

Edward, with his head full of dirty thoughts, grabbed Hawk’s sleeve. "For the sake of our startup dream and the future of the studio, boss, you should make the sacrifice."

Hawk ignored his crazy talk and threw an envelope at him. "Your bonus."

Edward pulled out a thick stack of cash. "Five thousand dollars? That much?" He scratched his head, "Boss, I didn’t do much—just followed someone."

"I took more, so I’d feel uneasy if you didn’t take yours."

Edward grinned, flashing white teeth, "For your peace of mind, boss, I’ll take it."

*Hawk left the studio alone.*

After disguising himself, he used some of the tricks from his past life to exchange some cash. In Venice, near Manhattan Beach, he rented another safe house and a long-term boat at a private dock.

No matter how well you plan, things can go wrong during execution.

Better to have an escape route.

---

*Sherman Oaks, hillside mansion.*

Bro Derek hung up the phone and picked up today’s newspapers. The front page was all about Robert Downey Jr.

Sarah Parker came over with coffee and kissed her husband. "Just a few days without seeing him, and now he’s gone to meet God."

"I told him several times to quit that stuff on 'The Singing Detective' set," Bro said, sipping his coffee. "A junkie dying? No surprise."

Sarah commented, "Donnie was pretty wild when he was high."

They didn’t touch that stuff themselves—they’d found more interesting games. Bro sighed, "It’s a real shame..."

Sarah was confused. "You just said junkies deserve to die. Why say it’s a shame now?"

Bro put down his cup and pulled Sarah into his lap, "I was planning to have you invite Donnie for a trip with us. The three of us could’ve experienced something new. Too bad he went and met God before I had the chance."

Sarah wrapped her arms around Bro’s neck tightly. They’d tried something similar before, and the thrill was unparalleled.

The dark side of Hollywood, the unique position of producers on set, had shaped Bro’s twisted personality. He hugged his wife tightly. "I know what you're worried about, but baby, you’ve got to trust me. I love you forever. I’d do anything for you."

Sarah wasn’t as perverse as Bro, but she was addicted to that twisted thrill and unwilling to give up the resources Bro, as a producer, provided. This moment, her acting skills went into overdrive. "I love you forever too."

Suddenly, a phone rang, interrupting their impending moment.

Bro left the room to take the call, and when he returned, his face was clouded with worry.

Sarah asked, "What happened?"

Bro replied briefly, "Due to the negative press surrounding Donnie, the distributor has dropped 'The Singing Detective.' We might have to find another distributor, or more likely, it’ll go straight to DVD."

He gathered his things. "I’ve got a meeting at the office."

Sarah helped him with his briefcase.

Bro got into his car and headed toward his company in Santa Monica.

At one intersection, he noticed a familiar face, driving a Bentley past him.

After a moment’s thought, he remembered—it was Deborah Falconer, Robert Downey Jr.’s widow.

The Bentley turned into Brentwood. Deborah returned to the familiar house, which was now empty.

She felt no sadness, only relief and satisfaction. If it weren't for the inconvenience, she might’ve thanked that LAPD officer personally.

No need to waste time or money on a divorce; she inherited everything.

As for her ex-husband, Deborah only had one thought: junkies deserve to die.

She walked through the house, noticing some watches and valuables missing from the collection room.

Given how Donnie was willing to sacrifice everything for his addiction, this wasn’t surprising.

He’d probably have pawned her and their child if it meant getting more of that stuff.

The house was the most valuable thing left.

Deborah’s lawyer called, informing her to come handle the body identification and inheritance paperwork.

She got into her car and drove off.

At a Brentwood intersection, Edward, driving Hawk’s newly purchased secondhand van, snapped photos of Deborah’s car until it disappeared from sight.

A rich woman, good-looking, with a big house.

Edward felt like his boss was really thoughtful, finding him such a candidate.

At that moment, he felt a small bit of warmth in this cold world.

There was still some kindness left in the world.

---

Chapter 47 Self-production and self-sale

As mid-April approaches, temperatures in Los Angeles gradually rise.

That day, Edward came back from outside, grabbed a bottle of cold Coke, and downed half of it in one go. He pulled a check out of his bag and placed it in front of Hawk, saying, "The photos from last night only sold for $280. It's all here."

Hawk took the check and continued flipping through the personal file provided by Dwayne Johnson.

Recently, he'd been tied up with issues involving Robert Downey Jr., and his discussions with Johnson about the film and personal management had been pushed back. Luckily, Johnson had been busy with promotional work, flying all over North America, and had only returned to Los Angeles yesterday.

Edward, feeling idle, started fiddling with a camera while muttering, "Boss, don't you think the work's been a bit dull lately?"

Hawk looked up and asked, "Relationship troubles?"

"No." Edward had learned well from Hawk. After experiencing the thrill of high-stakes work, he found it hard to get excited about routine stakeouts and photography. He licked his chapped lips and said, "Look, we were doing big stuff before, making headlines with every move. Now, working on news that only brings in a couple hundred bucks feels wrong."

Hawk asked, "Any progress with Deborah?"

Edward replied, "She's been busy with Downey's estate proceedings. Now's not the right time for me to make a move. Plus, I already handled the last thing we talked about. She’s working at the shelter—I can’t just end things right away, that'd be irresponsible!"

He put on a serious face, "I've thought this through. Widowhood isn't my style. I need a better plan. I'm going to approach it from another angle, through her son. I found out his name is Indio, and he goes to Brentwood School."

Hawk couldn't help but admire him. "You're a real talent."

"Boss, find us another big scoop already!" Edward was addicted to the rush, itching to stir things up. "No, wait, I mean, let's create some big news!"

Hawk closed Johnson’s file and said, "There’ll be something soon."

Edward was impressed. "Now I get it. The most valuable news isn't just happening by chance; it's created by people like us."

Hawk took out his phone and called Johnson. When the call connected, he said, "It’s me, Hawk Osmon. Saw the news that you’re back in L.A."

Johnson remembered him and said, "Been busy lately, didn’t get a chance to ask—any updates on what I asked you about?"

"I’ve got some ideas. We should meet to discuss them."

Johnson checked his schedule. "How about we meet at Tracy’s Gym this afternoon?"

"Works for me," Hawk replied.

After hanging up, Hawk thought for a moment and then called Eric, who had been struggling with a script and was looking for a break.

That afternoon, Hawk arrived at Tracy’s Gym right on time. He changed in the locker room and waited briefly until both Johnson and Eric showed up.

Hawk grabbed a towel and said, "I’ll start with a warm-up in the boxing area. See you guys there."

Johnson gave him a thumbs-up and headed to his private locker room, while Eric used the public area.

At that moment, the door of another private locker room opened, and a bulky white guy walked out. The locker room wasn’t crowded, so he immediately noticed Eric and changed direction.

To him, Eric’s scruffy beard, tired eyes, weathered face, and seafood-soaked lips gave off an artistic and somewhat vulnerable vibe.

The guy walked over quickly, placed a hand on Eric’s shoulder, and said, "Hey man, new here?"

Eric stepped forward to avoid the touch, glanced at the guy, and asked, "Who are you?"

The man smiled. "Miller Collins, wide receiver for the San Diego Chargers."

"An NFL star, huh?" Johnson emerged from the locker room just in time and shook hands with the man. "Dwayne Johnson. I haven’t seen you around before."

Miller shook Johnson’s hand lightly and said, "Just got my membership recently."

He glanced at Eric and added, "It's the off-season, so I bought a house in Santa Monica and moved here temporarily. Gotta keep up the training."

Johnson smiled. "I’ll have to catch one of your games sometime."

"Thanks," Miller replied politely before turning to leave. As he exited the locker room, he shot another glance at Johnson, not liking what he saw. No, he preferred the artsy, vulnerable type. His thoughts were interrupted when his wife Maria appeared, saying, "You’re taking too long."

Miller kissed his wife and explained, "Ran into Dwayne Johnson, had a quick chat."

Maria smiled, "Your career won’t last forever. We moved to L.A. to think about the future. You're a star player; make sure you connect with other celebrities while you're still popular."

Beaming with pride, she added, "Dorothy's growing up. We need to integrate her into L.A.'s high society."

Miller reassured her, "Don’t worry, I’ve got it covered. Remember last month? Beckham came by, and through him, I met Tom Cruise."

Meanwhile, Johnson and Eric headed to the boxing area.

On the ring, Hawk was drenched in sweat, throwing punches at his sparring partner.

After a while, he jumped back to the ropes and had someone remove his gloves. He asked Eric, "Wanna spar?"

Eric pushed Johnson forward, "You go."

Hawk said, "We’re not in the same weight class."

Johnson waved it off. "Let’s go lift."

Hawk stepped out of the ring, joined the others, and they headed to the weights.

Eric, quickly exhausted, headed to the lounge while Hawk and Johnson continued their workout, sweating profusely. When they finally finished, they joined Eric, who was still out of breath.

"I don’t think this place is for me," Eric sighed.

Hawk suggested, "We could try rock climbing or shooting next time."

Eric groaned, "You’re in media, not armed robbery..."

Hawk reminded him, "High-stakes business battles. You saw what it’s like in Park City. How can you win without being in top shape?"

Eric, recalling their past challenges, thought of poor George and how Hawk had saved his film, finally agreeing, "Fine, I’ll keep at it."

Johnson, curious, asked, "What high-stakes business battles?"

Eric filled him in briefly.

Johnson thought for a moment and said, "Earlier this month, a film crew held a screening in a small New Jersey town, but there was a massive blackout. Later investigations suggested that a rival company might have sabotaged the town’s power grid."

Eric cursed, "That idiot George opened Pandora’s box!"

Hawk took a small sip of his electrolyte drink, then spit it into a nearby trash can without saying a word.

Johnson gave him a thumbs-up. "Man, you know how to run the movie biz and handle competition. Impressive!"

Hawk thought to himself that all of it was self-made.

Turning to Johnson, Hawk said, "I’ve been thinking about that thing we discussed and came up with a preliminary plan."

Influenced by Eric and Katherine, Johnson already had a high opinion of Hawk. "That’s great!"

Hawk briefly outlined his plan, making it clear that they’d need an agreement in place.

"I’ll get Dani over here—she’s my wife and manager," Johnson said. He had already tasked his management company with reaching out to the director-producer of Invasion, Beto Blunt. Like Eric and Katherine, they were all impressed by Hawk.

Half an hour later, Johnson’s wife and manager, Dani Garcia, arrived. Eric excused himself.

Johnson secured a private lounge, and they had a detailed discussion.

Later, both parties went to Johnson’s management company and signed a partnership agreement.

Chapter 48: The Vulgar Hero Saves Beauty

*Beverly Hills, William Morris Agency.*

Edward walked into the lobby, shrugging and twisting uncomfortably as if his black suit severely restricted his freedom of movement.

Hawk finished speaking with the receptionist and walked over, giving Edward a slap on the back. "Straighten up, you're now a senior manager. You're representing the company’s image," he said.

Edward's face fell. "Boss... you can ask me to be a thug, a gang member, a criminal, even a dealer, no problem. But a senior manager in an office? I have no idea what to do."

"Don't sweat it. Just keep a straight face and don’t talk," Hawk reassured him. "When you're out in the world, you define your own identity. Be confident."

Edward adjusted his expression, trying to look more serious.

Hawk gestured for him to follow the receptionist upstairs, where they stopped outside a small meeting room.

A pretty intern opened the door. "Please wait a moment. Mr. Johnson and Ms. Garcia are finishing up with the production team and will be here shortly."

Hawk entered the room and noticed a woman already seated.

She had blonde hair cascading over her shoulders, wore Chanel, carried a Hermès bag, and her makeup was as flawless as a movie star walking the Oscars red carpet.

Caroline Jones raised her golden eyebrows, puzzled. "A redneck from Wyoming? What are you doing here?"

She quickly realized, "Wait, are you the one working with Dwayne?"

Hawk didn’t bother with pleasantries. "Hello, Peacock. Didn’t expect to see you here."

Caroline shot back, "A tabloid journalist trying to do operations?"

"Because I’m smart and capable." Hawk shrugged, pulling out a chair and sitting directly across from her. "Not like some people who look young and pretty but have rocks in their head."

In their last encounter, Caroline had been thoroughly defeated. She didn’t want to dwell on it and changed tactics, fiddling with her bracelet and the ring on her finger. "I hear cowboys in Wyoming like to mess around with sheep on the mountain."

Hawk calmly replied, "Oh, that was you, Ms. Sheep?"

Caroline leaned back in her chair, placing her legs, clad in beige slacks, on the meeting table, while her red high heels tapped the air like a pecking bird. Her pants were so fitted they created a certain unmistakable outline.

"Meh, meh..." she bleated mockingly, beckoning to Hawk with her finger. "Come on, dare you?"

Hawk didn’t dare. This woman could easily accuse him of harassment, and even if he wasn't found guilty, it’d ruin him.

False accusations wouldn’t be punished, but a man trying to clear his name would suffer a lot.

Hawk took out his Nokia 7650, pointed it at the wall behind Caroline, and pressed the camera button. "I’m just taking a picture of the wall art. Don’t block it."

Caroline, surprised at his shamelessness, quickly crossed her legs.

Before she could fully react, the meeting room door opened, and Dani and Johnson walked in.

Dani saw Caroline’s pose and couldn’t help but say, "Hey, sweetheart, you’re here for business, not to flirt with men."

Caroline glanced at the woman, who was twice her size, and replied, "Just playing a little game."

Johnson sat on Hawk’s side and introduced them, "This is my publicist, Caroline Jones from Full Speed Public Relations; and this is Hawk Osmon, founder of West Coast Media & Entertainment Studio."

He leaned over to Hawk, whispering, "According to the PR contract, anything involving media and publicity has to go through Caroline."

Hawk, completely unfazed, responded, "Caroline and I go way back." Then he asked Johnson, "Has the production team agreed?"

"Yes," Johnson said, "Producer Stephen Sommers is on board with our plan."

According to the contract, once the production team agreed, the deal was automatically set in motion.

Hawk didn’t waste time. He got up, moved to the front of the meeting table, and pulled over a whiteboard. Clapping his hands, he said, "Alright, everyone, let’s get started."

Edward distributed detailed plans to everyone.

Dani and Caroline stopped their whispers, and all eyes were on Hawk.

Hawk picked up a marker and wrote on the board: *"Hero Saves the Day!"*

As predictable and cliché as it gets.

Hawk explained, "When Dwayne participated in professional wrestling, his nickname was The Rock. His physique is as solid as a rock, but his smile is approachable."

Caroline lifted her pen and said, "That smile was designed by me and trained over a long time."

Hawk nodded and asked, "The plan for Dwayne is to position him as an action star, correct?"

Dani replied, "Yes, Dwayne’s acting is average. Given his background, a Schwarzenegger-type action role is the best fit."

On the job, Caroline was all business, as if nothing had happened earlier. She added, "That’s why I’ve done a lot of work on his image, to emphasize his strong and reliable qualities—always highlighting his masculine features, no matter the situation."

Johnson, relaxed, added, "The sock in the pants idea came from Caroline."

"Good idea," Hawk said, not letting emotions interfere with work. He continued, "Dwayne’s new movie The Scorpion King is different from his villain role in The Mummy Returns. This time, he plays a hero, fighting against tyranny and saving the people. He’s a hero on-screen."

He circled the word "Hero" on the whiteboard. "This kind of role demands that his off-screen image matches. If he’s a hero on the big screen but a wimp in real life..."

Caroline agreed, "I support what this guy’s saying."

Dani nodded in agreement too.

Hawk continued, "Here’s the plan. At a location we’ve chosen, a woman shopping is harassed by a group of thugs."

Dani and Caroline both looked at Edward.

Edward’s face was cold, and he stayed silent.

Hawk carried on, "Dwayne happens to be passing by and steps in to stop the thugs, and it’s all caught on camera."

In a past life, a certain actor-turned-hero had promoted their superhero movie in exactly this way, and it worked wonders.

Caroline suggested, "Why not go further? Dwayne could stop armed thugs..."

"Hold on!" Johnson cut her off. "No way, I’m running if there’s a gun involved. I’ve only got one life."

Hawk asked, "What’s a reasonable number for you to take on?"

Johnson thought for a moment. "Three thugs at most. Any more is too much."

"Fair enough," Hawk turned to Edward. "Pick three of the best guys from our team for this job."

Edward nodded firmly, even though he was confused—weren’t they the only two in the team?

Caroline was still focused on the plan. "I’ll handle contacting the TV networks..."

"No, no TV networks," Hawk interrupted. "TV makes it look staged and can spiral out of control."

He was committed to the cause. "I’ll do it myself, filming from a bystander’s perspective and then selling it to Channel 11. I’ve got a great relationship with their top-rated Midnight Entertainment show."

Edward and Hawk worked together seamlessly, even flashing their press credentials.

"Paprazzi," Caroline muttered under her breath, but after thinking it over, she realized it was probably the best option. "So, you’re going to sell the video to Channel 11?"

Hawk replied seriously, "I can guarantee it’ll air on Midnight Entertainment. With that show’s ratings, by the next day, most entertainment outlets will pick it up."

Dani and Caroline exchanged glances and nodded.

Hawk added, "You’re the experts when it comes to media coverage, follow-ups, and building the narrative."

Caroline had no objection. "That’s my job."

Johnson asked, "When do we launch this?"

"My team needs some time to prepare, and we need to lock in the perfect location," Hawk replied. "Three days from now."

Johnson looked at Dani, who checked the schedule. "The day after tomorrow, Dwayne was supposed to do a street shoot. I’ll cancel that."

A regular shoot couldn’t compare to this.

Hawk reminded them, "The $30,000 advance needs to be in the account within the hour."

Johnson asked, "Why the rush?"

Hawk explained simply, "We’re not going to a dangerous neighborhood. What if real thugs show up during our fake stunt? It’s not safe for Dwayne. But if we go to a safer area, police patrols will be more frequent. What happens if LAPD suddenly shows up during our shoot? I need to clear things with the police first, and that costs money."

There were no naive kids in the room; everyone understood that greasing the wheels with the LAPD would take real cash.

Johnson made a call, instructing the accountant to transfer the funds as soon as possible.

Hawk continued discussing the details with Johnson, and it was more than an hour before he left William Morris.

Johnson went to see Hawk off.

In the conference room, only Caroline and Danny remained.

Caroline asked, "Can I know how much you're paying him for this deal?"

Danny replied, "Eighty thousand dollars."

Caroline picked up her bag, "Worth the price."

Danny agreed it was a good deal, since Johnson's salary for this film was as high as 5.5 million dollars.

*Chapter 49: Every Resource and Connection Has Its Use*

As Edward stepped out of William Morris, he loosened his tie and gasped for breath, like someone who had just escaped drowning.

Hawk reached for the car keys and got into the driver's seat. Once Edward was seated in the passenger seat, Hawk said, “You’re in charge of finding the specialists.”

Edward nodded instinctively, then asked, “Plenty of Black folks to choose from, but what exactly are the requirements?”

Hawk replied, “Keep their mouths shut, follow orders, and look tough.”

“The last part’s easy. Not many soft-looking Black folks around,” Edward chuckled, recalling the homeless men he’d recently recruited. “If you need three guys, I’ve got it covered.”

He added a key point: “As long as the money’s right, boss.”

“How much do we pay them?” Hawk asked directly.

Edward thought for a moment. “Two hundred bucks each, and I promise they’ll be as obedient as kittens. If any of them step out of line, I’ll kick their butts myself!”

Hawk was surprised. “I thought you weren’t involved in gangs. Where’s this confidence coming from?”

Edward laughed. “Remember that woman I told you about? The one I met while handing out business cards—Nicole. I’m living at her place now. She works at a shelter, and she can keep those homeless guys in check.”

Hawk was impressed. “You’ve really got this figured out.”

Edward took off his tie and boasted, “I’ve got a list of divorced women with kids who are doing well for themselves. I’m always ready to make a move.”

Hawk gave him a thumbs-up. “Man, if I ever go broke, I’m joining forces with you.”

Edward laughed. “You’re the boss.”

Hawk nodded slightly and pulled out his phone, preparing to make a call.

Edward asked, “What about the woman?”

“Jacqueline,” Hawk said as the call connected. “It’s me, Hawk. You’re not working yet, are you? Let’s meet and talk.”

On the other end, Jacqueline stretched and teased, “You’re not trying to hire me for business, are you? No agent needed—you’ll get a discount since we know each other.”

Hawk ignored her joke. “I’ve got a new gig for you. It’ll only take up your afternoon. Five hundred dollars.”

With such a tempting offer, Jacqueline quickly agreed. “See you in an hour at the usual spot.”

Less than an hour later, Hawk met up with Jacqueline. She wasn’t wearing makeup, and probably due to her nighttime work schedule, she had dark circles under her eyes despite her youth.

Hawk explained the job briefly and asked, “So, are you in?”

“Of course!” Jacqueline agreed, though with some hesitation. “But I’m not going anywhere too sketchy. I won’t set foot in some rough neighborhood where I might get jumped. And you’ve got to guarantee my safety.”

“I’ll be around to film,” Hawk assured her.

Jacqueline smiled. “For something this simple, and you’re offering five hundred bucks? You’re a generous boss.”

Hawk replied, “Because you’re a pro.”

Jacqueline, a little flattered, said, “That’s the first time anyone’s complimented me like that.”

Hawk asked casually, “Interested in switching jobs?”

Jacqueline shook her head. “No thanks.”

Edward chimed in, “Joining us would be more promising. I’ve seen plenty of people in your line of work—when they get old and lose their looks, life doesn’t treat them kindly.”

But Jacqueline had her own view. “I work mostly at night. If you guys need me during the day, I can freelance. Why quit when I can make money from both jobs? I’ll deal with getting old when it happens.”

Hawk shifted the topic. “Just keep your phone on during the day, and don’t mute it. After noon, I might need to reach you.”

Jacqueline yawned. “Got it, got it.”

Leaving her with $200 as a deposit, Hawk drove off. Along the way, he stopped at a coffee shop and bought four iced Americanos, heading straight to West Los Angeles.

Edward was puzzled. “Why four coffees? Are you bringing one for my sweetheart? She doesn’t work far from here.”

“We’re heading to West L.A. to visit Officer Erica Ferguson. The coffee is for her and her partner,” Hawk replied.

“Wow, boss, you’ve finally figured it out. Time to flirt with her!” Edward shouted excitedly. “Need a wingman? Want some tips? Trust me, if you make your first move in her LAPD patrol car, she’ll never forget you—”

“Shut up,” Hawk cut him off. “I’m seeing her for work. She patrols several streets in West L.A.”

Edward shook his head in mock disappointment. “Wasting resources. Wasting resources is shameful!”

Hawk smirked. “When we’re rich, we’ll have our pick of women. Twenty at a time if we want.”

“But you’ll never experience true love,” Edward quipped.

Hawk ignored him as they drove into West Los Angeles.

He had already scouted Erica’s patrol area. After driving around a few blocks, Hawk decided that 14th Street would be perfect. It was quiet during the day, a bit off the beaten path, but not too dangerous.

Turning onto 14th Street, Hawk spotted a patrol car parked by the curb. Officers Erica and Julian were handling a minor street dispute.

Hawk parked five meters behind the patrol car, grabbed the iced Americanos, and waited until the officers were done before walking over. “Julian, Erica,” he greeted them.

Erica tipped her hat. “Hawk, what a coincidence.”

“I was in the area and remembered this was your beat. Thought I’d bring you some coffee,” Hawk said, handing each of them a cup. “Just regular iced Americanos—hope that’s okay.”

Erica took hers first. “I love iced Americanos.”

Hawk asked, “The media hasn’t been bothering you lately, have they?”

“My moment in the news has passed.” Erica shrugged playfully. “Reporters are like sharks, always chasing fresh blood.”

Realizing her slip, she added, “But if we had more responsible journalists like you, L.A. would have fewer problems.”

Julian, who was quieter, nodded in agreement. “True.”

Hawk seized the moment. “In a couple of days, I’ll be shooting a short street scene with a director friend. I just scouted the area, and 14th Street seems perfect.”

Erica asked, “Do you need us to clear the area? We don’t have the authority—you’d need to talk to City Hall for that.”

“No need for a full clear. It’ll only take about ten minutes, but the scene involves a robbery, so it wouldn’t look right if a patrol car shows up.”

Erica joked, “You’re not planning an actual robbery, are you?”

“Do I look like I need the money?” Hawk pointed to himself.

“Just kidding,” she laughed. “It’s no big deal. When you’re ready, give me a call. If Julian and I are in the area, we’ll adjust our patrol route and check out another block.”

“Thanks,” Hawk said.

Erica smiled. “No problem. Just buy me dinner when it’s done.”

Hawk readily agreed. “You’ve got it. I’ll set up a time once I’m finished with this project.”

After a bit more small talk, Julian and Erica got back to their patrol, driving off.

In the car, Julian asked, “You interested in Hawk?”

Erica replied, “Don’t you think he’s a responsible guy?”

Julian, who was older, thought for a moment and cautioned, “He’s very goal-driven.”

“That just means he’s ambitious,” Erica said with a nod.

With the location secured, Hawk dropped Edward off at the shelter to round up the actors. Getting homeless men to act tough was no stretch at all.

The next morning, Edward arrived with three homeless men at Ranch Park. Hawk conducted a brief training session, then went to rent prop knives. Using real ones might tempt them to actually stab Johnson.

Thanks to L.A.’s thriving film industry, it didn’t cost much to rent knives that looked completely real.\

Chapter 50: Help!

West Los Angeles, 14th Street.

A Mondeo car slowly approached and parked by the side of the road.

Nearby, a red BMW door opened, and Jacqueline quickly walked to the passenger side, knocked on the window, and got in.

Hawk glanced at his watch. "You're early?"

"You offered good pay," Jacqueline said, recalling the training she had in the park. "The job isn't much, and it's not hard. Of course, I want to be proactive."

Hawk pointed ahead to 14th Street. "In a while, walk south down that street. If you get robbed, make sure you look panicked."

Jacqueline laughed. "I was robbed as a kid, more than once. I know the feeling."

Hawk replied, "Then relive those memories."

Jacqueline nodded. "That feeling is the worst."

Just then, Edward called.

Hawk told Jacqueline to return to her car. He drove a bit forward, then got out and opened the door of an old van, climbing in.

Inside, Edward had brought along three professional-looking guys.

The three of them looked rough, like people you'd want to avoid.

Hawk thought to himself that they could probably play pirates in a movie without needing makeup.

The biggest and meanest-looking guy raised his hand. "You said we can rough him up. How far can we go?"

Hawk instructed, "Just like we practiced, a few punches to the face, make sure it's in places people can see."

Hitting the chest or lower back wouldn’t work; when reporters came, it wasn’t like Johnson could strip to show off his injuries.

The second guy asked, "Could we get him to send us to jail?"

Hawk frowned. "Why would you want to go to jail?"

The third guy answered, "It’s better than being homeless."

Hawk glanced at Edward, who quickly said, "Don't worry, you guys will have priority at the shelter."

The second guy grinned and said to Edward, "Boss, we got this. It's just a robbery, no big deal."

The first guy added, "We were born to rob."

Hawk handed a red jacket to the second guy. "Make sure you wear this."

The second guy put it on immediately.

Hawk pointed to the alley on the side of the sidewalk. "Go wait over there until she passes by."

The three of them got out of the car and slipped into the alley.

Hawk told Edward to drive toward Johnson.

The car moved south and soon stopped again. Hawk got out, carefully checking the surroundings. Seeing no paparazzi, he climbed into Johnson’s car.

Johnson, dressed casually, greeted him. "Ready?"

Hawk said, "We’re good on our end. You might get a little roughed up, just to make it look real."

Johnson frowned slightly.

From the backseat, Carolyn chimed in, "For Dwayne's tough-guy image, every hit he takes during filming is in his contract."

Hawk thought for a moment and said, "Getting hit in a real-life brawl might make Dwayne seem even more relatable."

The driver, Danny, agreed. "I think it's a good idea."

With his agent backing it, Carolyn didn’t argue further.

Johnson nodded. "Okay." He smiled. "Just don’t hit too hard."

"They're pros," Hawk reassured him, shaking his phone before stepping out of the car. "When I call, you move."

He added, "The victim’s a blonde girl in a white dress, and one of the robbers will be wearing a red jacket."

Johnson nodded. "Got it."

Carolyn grabbed Hawk as he was leaving. "Hold on."

Hawk looked at her. "Miss Baa, something else?"

Carolyn scowled. "Delete the pictures from that day."

"I didn’t take any of you, just the wall," Hawk replied, walking away.

Carolyn flipped him off with both hands and growled, "If I get a chance, I'm gonna screw you over!"

Back in the old van, Hawk put in his earphones and connected his phone, ready to take calls.

Edward turned the car around and drove back.

As Hawk looked at the sparse pedestrians, he felt a bit uneasy, remembering how previous staged news events had gone wrong.

When Edward dropped him off near the Mondeo, Hawk said, "Go keep an eye on Johnson. Let me know if anything happens."

"It's only a few kilometers. Do I really need to watch?" Edward grumbled, though he quickly turned the wheel.

As Hawk got out, he said, "This is a big deal. Think of the bonus you’ll get."

Edward assured him, "I'll keep close."

After the van left, Hawk surveyed the area. The street was quiet, no paparazzi around.

He pulled out his camcorder and set up his starting position, ready to record.

Not far away, Jacqueline left a rental shop and started walking south along the sidewalk.

The trio of rough-looking guys were waiting in an alley a few dozen meters ahead, ready for their cue.

Hawk gave the signal, and Johnson’s car began moving north.

Fortunately, there were no surprises this time.

The location and people were carefully chosen by Hawk, and aside from Johnson, everyone else had rehearsed together.

Jacqueline walked past the alley, continuing south.

The three men caught up from behind, and the third guy snatched Jacqueline's bag.

Jacqueline held onto the bag tightly, refusing to let go, shouting loudly, "Help! Help! Help!"

Hawk, who had been filming scenery, quickly swiveled the camera toward the commotion and ran over, capturing the struggle on film.

The camera also picked up his footsteps and the sound of his heavy breathing as he ran, all part of creating an authentic "caught in the moment" feel.

Then, the big guy and the second guy jumped into the frame. The first one, towering over Jacqueline, pushed her down hard, and she fell to the ground with a thud.

The second guy pulled out a prop knife. "Bitch, if you don’t wanna die, scram."

Danny’s car arrived just in time.

"Let go of the girl!" Johnson jumped out of the passenger seat, kicking the second guy to the ground, knocking the knife away.

Then, he started fighting with the big guy and the third guy, even taking two punches from the big guy, before slamming the third one to the ground with a body slam.

Jacqueline grabbed her bag back, screaming.

Johnson shoved the big guy away, giving him a hard punch.

Though Johnson was a big, tough guy, the force behind that punch, especially after taking some rough hits, was enough to make the big guy sit down, gasping, unable to get up.

Danny, still in the driver’s seat, shouted, "I called the cops!"

The second and third guys quickly picked up the big guy and fled.

Johnson, leaning against a nearby lamppost, caught his breath. "Are you okay, miss? Do you need me to call the police?"

Jacqueline shook her head. "No, my things are safe."

She stood up slowly, thanking him over and over, clearly flustered. "Thank you, thank you so much…"

Johnson asked a few more questions, and after more thanks from Jacqueline, she left.

Hawk turned off the camera and called Danny, saying a few words.

Danny waved to Johnson.

Johnson got back in the car as if nothing had happened, and they left 14th Street.

Hawk went to check the scene, noticing that the second guy had left the prop knife behind. He quickly picked it up; it was a rental, and there was a deposit on it.

After confirming nothing was left behind, Hawk got back into the Mondeo and called Erica Ferguson. "We finished shooting the clip."

Erica asked, "That fast?"

Hawk replied, "It went smoothly. You can resume patrol."

Erica, busy with something else, said, "Got it."

Hawk hung up, drove to a mall to meet Jacqueline, and handed her the remaining $300.

Jacqueline grinned. "If there’s more work like this, call me."

Hawk nodded. "You didn’t get hurt, did you?"

"I’m fine," Jacqueline said happily. "Falling is way better than dealing with some guy’s junk."

Hawk got back in his car. "You’ll need to respond later. I’ll call you."

Jacqueline, back in her car, suddenly wondered if she had a talent for acting.

After all, wasn't it all about dealing with men’s junk? Was she any worse than those actresses?

But the thought passed quickly. She figured she’d ask Hawk about it later.