[Chapter 85: Super Glue Seals the Valve, Steel Wool Blocks the Exhaust Pipe]
At the Shooting Range, in the outdoor training area, a red Coke can hung in mid-air from a horizontal beam. Hawke stood over twenty meters away, pulled back the slingshot he had bought last time, and without much aiming, shot out a steel ball.
With a crisp sound, the empty can crumpled.
"Nice shot!" Johnson called out, grabbing a steel ball and loading it into the slingshot. He pulled back the elastic band and let it fly.
The can didn't budge at all.
Hawke took out several steel balls and fired them in quick succession, completely destroying the can.
Johnson shook his head and picked up a nearby shotgun. "This is more my style."
Hawke stepped aside as Johnson gripped the gun with both hands and took aim.
With a bang, white smoke billowed, and the can was sent flying.
Hawke put the slingshot away in his waist pack, retrieved a pistol from the table, and fired at another can. After expending the bullets, only the top of the can remained.
Johnson remarked, "You've got good aim and moves. I really want to hire you as a coach for my next role; I need to play a gun expert."
Hawke ejected the magazine and reloaded, saying, "I charge a pretty high salary."
"I know," Johnson pointed southeast. "That thing at St. Joseph's Hospital must have been at least hundreds of thousands, right?"
Given that Hawke had previously helped Johnson with some paparazzi work, he wasn't surprised that he could guess; he simply smiled.
"You're really impressive with image management. I've never seen anyone like you," Johnson asked seriously. "Hawke, don't worry about what others think. Based on your observations, what route do you think I should take?"
Hawke replied, "I'm not exactly an expert in film production, but I can offer a subjective opinion."
He paused to think. "Dwayne, you're a big guy, so action roles make sense. But unlike Stallone or Schwarzenegger, your smile is particularly friendly, and you have a natural humor. I personally think comedy-action suits you better."
Johnson considered, "Comedy-action? Like Jackie Chan?"
Hawke thought for a moment, saying, "You might draw on comedic elements, but for action, let's pass. Jackie Chan is a like a god of war in a furniture store; your style leans more toward straightforward action."
Johnson reflected on this and asked, "What else?"
Hawke honestly responded, "Beyond that, I'm not quite sure. I'm not exactly a pro in this field."
Both men put away their weapons and slingshot as they walked back.
As they walked, Johnson said, "I'm going to go for a gun-wielding leading role soon. The success of The Scorpion King gave me some confidence, but landing the role relies on more than just that. The competition in Hollywood is fierce, with all kinds of tactics used. I might need your help."
In that moment, Hawke thought about higher-stakes competition -- things like bludgeons and laxatives and so on.
"You can call me anytime," Hawke replied, not wanting to push business away. "Can you tell me which film it is?"
Johnson shook his head. "Not yet; I signed a confidentiality agreement, so I can't spill the details."
But he did share a little. "It's a cop-action movie."
Hawke and Johnson headed to the indoor shooting range.
...
In West Los Angeles, a BMW 7 Series turned onto Manning Road and stopped by the curb.
Megan Taylor got out of the car with her handbag and entered a nearby styling studio.
A female stylist had been waiting at the door, leading her into the VIP area to do her hair.
Across the hallway, a white young man named Pedro emerged from an alley. He crossed the not-so-wide street, turned onto the sidewalk, and walked toward the studio.
After returning from Santa Clara yesterday, he had gone to the Fox Television Center, where he waited half the night just to see Megan Taylor come out.
Pedro hadn't dared to confront Megan but noted her car and license plate number.
Even if he couldn't take them on directly, he wanted to help his brothers save some dignity.
Being exposed by Midnight Entertainment had been a key reason why Lewis and the others received strict penalties.
Pedro walked quickly, and as he neared the BMW, he swiftly pulled out three keys from his pocket, wedged them between his fingers, and dragged them forcefully along the side of the car, making a harsh scratching sound.
The keys scraped across the rear, back door, front door, all the way to the front.
Pedro looked around and noticed no one was paying attention. He went around to the other side and did the same thing.
On both sides of the BMW, the previously shiny paint now bore six distinct scratches.
Pedro tucked the keys away and briskly walked off, whistling cheerfully as he returned to the alley he had come from. He hopped into an old car and quickly left the area.
His whistling grew louder, and then he joyfully laughed, his grin stretching from ear to ear.
At that moment, Pedro felt he was the most loyal brother of all, while Henry was simply hard to judge.
...
On the other side of Manning Road, after a long wait, Megan, with her freshly styled hair, happily walked out.
Recently, the viewership for Midnight Entertainment had topped Channel 11, even surpassing the primetime Ace News.
Just as Megan stepped out of the studio, her good mood evaporated.
Her BMW 7, which she had just bought this year, bore several terrible scratches, exposing the color underneath.
She immediately pulled out the pepper spray Hawke had given her, stepping back toward the studio entrance while scanning the area.
She didn't spot anyone suspicious.
Seeing their VIP client in distress, the studio staff rushed over to inquire.
Megan quickly called the police.
However, there weren't any nearby cameras, and after the LAPD arrived, they found no suspects.
Megan recalled Hawke's words and explained her suspicions to the police.
Then, she reported the incident to her company.
Fox quickly sent someone over to negotiate with the LAPD.
They took such matters seriously; if they didn't respond, how would their employees do the news in the future?
...
When night fell, Hawke drove his Mondeo back to the studio.
As usual, he parked near the house, ensuring the hidden surveillance cameras were able to capture everything.
Hawke gathered several bags and carried them inside.
When the lights turned on, he was surprised to find someone sitting in the dark.
Hawke immediately pulled out his handgun.
Edward had just woken up, startled, and dropped to the floor, exclaiming, "Boss, don't shoot! It's me!"
Hawke holstered the gun, "Why didn't you say anything when I opened the door?"
Edward scrambled to his feet. "I was asleep; I just opened my eyes when I heard you come in."
Hawke set down the two bags and asked, "Did you get anything today?"
Edward shook his head, "I received three tip-offs, paid 60 bucks, but didn't capture anything valuable."
Thinking of their weekend plans, he asked for time off, "Boss, I have a date with Indio Downey on Saturday to go to Brentwood Park..."
Hawke recognized the name. "Robert Downey Jr.'s son?"
"Yes, that's the one." Edward quickly summarized yesterday's events. "I've already opened a breakthrough."
"Go on," Hawke generously gave his number one subordinate the day off.
His top henchman, sleeping with the widow of the Calamari, spnending the funds left behind by the Squid, and beating up his son -- Hawke thought this was quite good.
Noticing that Hawke was in deep thought, Edward quietly said after a while, "Boss, um... can I crash here for the night?"
Hawke snapped back, giving Edward a once-over, "You and Nicole called it quits so soon?"
Edward looked up at the ceiling, looking sorrowful. "Love comes quickly and leaves just as fast."
Hawke handed him a beer, "Don't be too sad."
Edward cracked it open, took a sip, and perked up. "I won't be sad because I have a new goal."
In a tone of experience, he advised the rookie, "Boss, you have to believe me: don't linger too long with one woman. Trust that the next one will be great, and the one after will be even better."
Hawke gave him a thumbs up. "I believe in you."
Lights turned on, attracting Frank as well.
Hawke grabbed some nuts, snacks, and beers, and the three of them chatted and ate.
By 11 PM, Frank was feeling good and had two beers in hand as he stumbled out.
Hawke locked the door and activated the nighttime security system before heading upstairs to shower.
Edward, in the side room, had turned off the light early.
Hawke looked out the window.
Across the street in the parking lot, Frank's RV still had its lights on.
Hawke grabbed the slingshot and stood at the window, tried taking a shot at Frank's car window. However, it was too far, and the steel ball dropped on the ground.
Since it was late, Hawke put down the slingshot, turned off the lights, and went to sleep.
...
In a rundown car on Fountain Street, Pedro saw that the West Coast studio had turned off its lights and began to make his move.
After waiting for several hours, he felt it was finally time to act.
Pedro took out a tube of super glue and a bag of steel wool, breaking it up and stashing it in his pocket.
He didn't dare to mess with that studio.
Several companions had told Henry about the terror of that place.
After waiting a bit longer, even the streetlights went off, and Pedro quietly got out of his car.
The surroundings were entirely still; not a single pedestrian in sight.
Pedro crouched low and jogged up to the Mondeo, pulling out the super glue. He smeared it on the tire valve and then circled to the back, retrieving the steel wool.
He found the exhaust pipe, pressing one hand on the back of the car while stuffing the steel wool in hard with the other hand.
The Mondeo shook slightly, and the car alarm started blaring.
In the quiet of the night, the sound was extraordinarily jarring.
Pedro cursed inwardly, "Damn, this freak installed an alarm!"
He turned and bolted.
As soon as the alarm went off, Hawke woke up immediately, rolled out of bed, and went to the window, just in time to see someone running away.
He flung open the window, grabbed the slingshot off the sill, loaded it with steel balls, and took a shot.
The two were only about twenty meters apart.
With a whoosh, the steel ball struck Pedro on the back of the neck.
Pedro's vision went black; instinctively, he turned his head, and a rush of pain hit his forehead.
Blood erupted from his head.
With two more swift shots, Pedro was hit on the forehead and the side of his nose.
Blood streamed down, and he felt dizzy, losing his balance and collapsing to the ground.
At that moment, the door burst open, and Edward rushed in, shouting, "Boss?"
Hawke pointed down at the scene.
Edward picked up a baseball bat and ran downstairs.
Hawke grabbed the gun from the nightstand and shouted outside, "Don't move! I'll shoot!"
Pedro pressed his hands to his head and glanced back, seeing a dark gun barrel in the moonlight. He immediately raised his hands.
*****
https://www.patreon.com/Sayonara816.