The Wolf of Los Angeles

[Chapter 200: Saving a Life]

The next morning, Hawke arrived at Twitter when Brian sought him out.

He stepped into the office, closed the door behind him, and said to Hawke, "Latest news: A victim reported to the FBI, and they issued a subpoena for Owen Nester yesterday afternoon."

Hawke recognized the key detail, "There really is a victim?"

Brian answered, "It's not difficult to find a victim. They're the FBI, not the LAPD."

Curiously, Hawke inquired, "How did you find out? Is your old flame in charge of the team?"

"Not an old flame," Brian corrected him, adding, "Jennifer is handling this case."

Hawke had thought of that yesterday; Jennifer's transfer was a clear tactic from the Republicans, aiming to ramp up the pressure on the Democrats.

He asked, "Jennifer comes from a complicated family, right?"

Brian vaguely replied, "Not your average person; at her age, she wouldn't be the deputy chief of the FBI's Los Angeles office."

He didn't linger, and after discussing some matters regarding Covina, he soon took his leave.

The series of events at Covina forced Brian to step in early. Thanks to family resources, he arrived with a specialized support team to help guide him, a rookie, along the right path.

...

Hollywood, Paramount Pictures.

After the afternoon class at the Super Star Training School, Harley leisurely packed up her belongings. She watched the tall, leggy beauty, Lena, happily rush out of the classroom to catch up with Guerrero, the producer from Ackerman Films.

The two walked out together, engaged in conversation.

Harley couldn't hear what they were discussing but sensed something was off.

She had done extensive research on the Super Star School and had even stealthily captured the names from past student lists, identifying several missing persons among them. She discreetly reached out to students from the same class.

Those students had some recollections and noted that the missing individuals were close to Matthew Broderick, the Ackerman Films producer teaching at the time.

Broderick had already been sentenced and imprisoned for shooting his wife, Sarah Jessica Parker, in public.

Now, the school's head, Guerrero, had previously been Broderick's assistant.

Harley's initial plan was to immerse herself in the scene; she was quite confident in her appearance. But after nearly half a month of classes, she realized she hadn't garnered any attention.

Instead, it was Lena who caught Guerrero's favor.

Harley quickly understood where the problem lay: she was nearly 25, while Lena was just under 18.

These men!

Guerrero and Lena entered the office.

Harley could only walk ahead, exiting the Super Star School.

She didn't leave the area but walked toward her car.

Since Lena had started to draw attention, Harley had made a point to befriend her, and their private relationship had grown closer.

...

After waiting a moment, Lena exited the Super Star School.

Harley called her.

Lena, initially planning to grab a taxi, hurried over and smiled at Harley, "I thought you left."

"We're heading the same way; hop in," Harley opened the car door and took the driver's seat.

Lena joined her in the car.

...

Nearby, a Mexican-American female student had been quietly following Harley and Lena.

Noticing Lena had entered the office, she trailed behind Harley.

At this moment, the two women were together.

The Mexican-American student pulled out her phone and called, "Garcia, the two targets, Harley and Lena, just got into the same car and are getting ready to leave."

The reply came, "Don't worry about it; I'll follow them."

The female student hung up and drove away.

...

Meanwhile, Harley was driving, casually asking, "What did Guerrero teach you? Sounds mysterious."

"You saw?" Lena was in high spirits, thinking about the opportunities Guerrero offered her, and vaguely said, "There's a party tonight; Guerrero invited me to join."

This made Harley think of the missing girls, and she seriously warned, "I've been in Los Angeles for a while; many producers in Hollywood love to deceive beautiful girls. What they say can't be trusted."

But how could a girl blinded by the dream of stardom heed such advice? Lena brushed her off, "I didn't plan to go anyway; it just feels rude to refuse him face-to-face. I'll call Guerrero later and tell him I don't have the time."

Having worked as an investigative journalist, Harley could discern some truth behind the naivete of such a young girl's words: "Hollywood isn't that simple; you..."

"Alright, dear, I get it," Lena smiled back at her. "I'm not going."

At this point, Harley couldn't say much more and continued to drive her to the apartment she was renting.

As Lena prepared to get out of the car, she said, "Thanks; tomorrow night, I'll treat you to dinner."

Harley called out to her, retrieving a bag from the back seat, "I remember your 18th birthday is coming up, right? Here, this is for you."

Lena quickly declined, "I can't accept this."

"Put it on," Harley smiled. "We're both in Los Angeles without any roots; we'll take care of each other."

Lena saw the brand of the bag and found it hard to refuse, saying, "Thank you."

Harley opened the packaging, "Let's see if the color suits you."

"It's beautiful!" Lena took it, "Thank you."

Harley unzipped it, tossed aside the drying agent, and opened the bag's mouth. "Switch it over."

"Alright." Lena placed her belongings from her old bag into the new one.

She got out of the car and walked toward the apartment building.

Harley felt a mix of emotions but hesitated for a moment before she grabbed a remote control and pressed the power button.

...

Arriving at the building, Lena glanced back and saw Harley's car driving away. She tossed her old bag into a trash bin and happily entered the building.

Heading out that evening with her new bag gave her an extra boost of confidence.

Lena ascended the stairs with a light heart.

...

Harley returned to the nearby parking garage, swapped vehicles for a Cadillac, and drove out.

That car, along with the bag for Lena, was equipment she specifically requested from Fox News.

The media under News Corporation always had some special gear.

Harley purchased food and water, even donning adult diapers for convenience in her stakeout.

She understood well that the sooner she exposed those scumbags, the more she could prevent new victims from appearing.

Harley activated the in-car GPS display and the listening device, putting on her headphones.

The display showed the GPS locator right above the apartment.

Lena's humming came through the headphones with crystal clarity.

Harley activated the recording function.

Pedestrians passed by on the sidewalk.

A Mexican-American man carrying a briefcase walked towards her, hurrying just like everyone else finishing work for the day.

...

Carlos walked past the front of the car, his gaze sweeping quickly over the windshield, then continued forward, getting into a common Chevrolet parked by the curb.

The car pulled out of the parking spot and vanished from sight.

A few minutes later, a Ford turned onto the street, parking in an empty spot.

Carlos pointed at the nearby vehicle, "Miss Harley is in that car."

Garcia said, "She suddenly started tracking that girl named Lena today; could she have discovered something?"

"The boss said to call him if we spot anything." Carlos pulled out his phone, "I'm calling the boss."

He called Campos.

...

At Butterfly Consulting, Campos had heard Carlos' report and, after a moment's thought, picked up a landline and dialed Hawke: "Boss, that reporter named Harley suddenly began taking action; she's observing a pretty girl named Lena."

On the other end, Hawke asked, "What's the situation with this Lena?"

Campos's team had been keeping an eye on Harley and knew everything about her contacts: "She's 17, a student in the training program, exceptionally good-looking, and from Texas."

Hawke sensed it could be significant and replied, "You should go in person. That Harley... if you can ensure her safety, see if she can help."

"Understood." Campos called up one of his skilled drivers and headed downstairs.

...

The two of them drove straight to the Westwood area, quickly arriving beneath the targeted apartment building.

They parked some distance away.

As darkness enveloped the sky, streetlights flickered to life on both sides of the road.

...

Harley, wearing headphones, heard her phone ring and immediately perked up.

Soon, a Mercedes pulled up and stopped in front of the apartment building.

...

Lena quickly emerged, spotting a middle-aged woman in a ladies' suit, asking, "Are you Ms. Meriel?"

"It's me," Meriel smiled warmly, opening the back door and gesturing her in. "Mr. Guerrero is waiting for you at a seaside club."

Lena got in the car, grinning at her, "Thanks."

Meriel instructed the driver, "West, drive."

The driver steered the Mercedes southward.

...

Harley waited a moment before starting her car to follow. She glanced at the GPS display and confirmed she was tracking the vehicle's movement.

...

However, not long after she set off, a Range Rover also followed behind.

As they turned off the street, the driver glanced at Carl and said, "Boss, did Meriel and them pick up a tail?"

Carl, who had partnered with Broderick in the past and tended to be cautious, replied, "Let's get a clear picture first."

...

Once the Mercedes left, Campos and Carlos's vehicle slowly moved, blending into the traffic behind.

They had previously followed cars carrying straying girls all the way to a seaside club in Venice.

Knowing their destination made it easy for them to tail the group.

...

In the Cadillac, Harley maintained her distance while listening through her headphones.

...

The woman named Meriel directed Lena to help herself to water and candy.

Lena exclaimed in delight, as if water and candy were top-tier luxuries.

As the car arrived in Venice, Harley suddenly noticed that Lena hadn't made a sound for a while.

The Mercedes driver said, "Finally, we can relax."

Meriel replied, "These naive girls always get mesmerized by the dream of stardom."

The Mercedes driver remarked, "She's a good one, and those long legs... She is going to be killed in the end, can I enjoy her first before sending her off?"

"Enjoy?" Meriel laughed, "You can wait until those big shots are done, then indulge."

The driver added, "I'm not that twisted. I can't be interested in someone who's lost limbs or had their skin peeled."

...

Harley caught every word in her ears.

She realized she had zeroed in on the right target this time.

This was a downward spiral, and from her vantage point, she noticed that a club on the right gradually opened its iron gate.

The Mercedes slowed as it prepared to enter.

Thinking of Lena inside that car and recalling those missing girls, Harley worried Lena might become the next disappearance once inside.

Desiring the scoop, wanting to expose those creeps, she couldn't just stand by while Lena vanished.

Harley turned the wheel, lightly tapped the brakes, and prepped to bump their car, aiming to create a minor accident to draw attention from surrounding traffic.

...

Meanwhile, from behind, Carl in the Range Rover saw the Cadillac's maneuver and immediately understood her intention: "Block her from behind!"

He turned to the two in the back seat, "Once we stop, quickly take control of the Cadillac and grab her!"

The Range Rover charged ahead.

...

As the Mercedes slowed to turn, Harley's Cadillac collided with it.

Before she could react, a not-so-strong jolt came from behind as a Range Rover crashed into her rear.

The Range Rover's door flew open, and three masked men jumped out.

...

In the far distance, Campos, using the neon signs of the club as illumination with night vision goggles, noticed something was off: that female reporter was being pursued while she tracked others.

Campos had prepared for this; he rolled down the passenger window, retrieved a mounted police light tucked beneath the seat, positioned it on the roof, and flicked it on.

Flashing red and blue lights illuminated the area, with sirens echoing far and wide.

...

The three men holding a window-breaking hammer and firearms heard the sirens and saw the brilliant lights.

Carl glanced back at the securely closed Cadillac door and shouted as he hopped into the vehicle, "Go! Get moving!"

The Mercedes didn't turn but sped straight ahead.

The Range Rover followed suit.

...

Harley was initially terrified but as her emotions steadied, she began to chase after them.

Yet the Mercedes stopped again, and Lena, along with her belongings, was tossed out of the car before it sped off.

Harley exhaled a sigh of relief, turning her gaze to the approaching police car.

It was an old Ford cruiser, its roof topped with a portable light.

In the hopeful gaze of Harley, however, the Ford made a turn down another street, seemingly chasing a different car.

"What luck today," Harley pulled out an rarely used phone and dialed 911 for Lena.

She sensed danger looming, refraining from making her presence known, instead turning her car around to a concealed spot, waiting until the patrol car passed.

*****

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