[Chapter 88: The Mexican Mule Gang]
Nicole's shelter was located in the Hollywood area. Over the years, the number of homeless people had surged in the traditional heart of Hollywood, represented by the Walk of Fame. In response, shelters had popped up as well.
According to what Edward told Hawke, he had previously stayed in the shelter with Nicole. Everything they ate, drank, and... well, everything, had been provided by the shelter.
After the van passed through Highland Avenue, it stopped on a side street east of the Walk of Fame. The Ackerman Charity Foundation's sign stood at the entrance of the shelter, where many homeless individuals were lining up.
Hawke didn't rush to get out of the van. He sat inside, observing closely. Besides the shelter handing out burgers, pizzas, and bottled water as cheap eats, a few medical vans were parked on one side of the shelter, offering free health check-ups to the homeless.
Edward stared at the medical vans. "They've been coming around frequently lately..."
Hawke tapped him lightly. "Don't talk too much."
Edward nodded. "Got it."
Hawke opened the van door and pointed toward the shelter entrance. "Nicole is over there."
Edward picked up two boxes and headed toward the entrance. Hawke followed behind, examining everything curiously.
The free health check-ups and blood tests, along with the promise of nutritious meals, were pretty tempting, and a lot of people were waiting in line.
"Boss, I am going to find Nicole," Edward said, pointing to the shelter door.
Hawke stopped. "I'll wait for you here."
Edward carried the boxes toward the entrance of the shelter. It seemed very busy on Nicole's side, and he was told to wait a moment.
...
In June, Los Angeles had a sunny glare after the sun rose. Hawke found shade under a tree and continued watching the free check-ups. He noticed that some people in line were being turned away. As he got a bit closer, he listened for a while and got a rough understanding.
These individuals had participated in the Ackerman Charity Foundation's free check-ups a while ago, and this time, the medical screenings were for new arrivals among the homeless.
People who had already been checked were of no use; perhaps the newcomers had something to offer? Hawke couldn't help but wonder.
There were a few reporters and photographers around taking pictures. The Ackerman Charity Foundation had always paid great attention to its image.
Seeing many people taking photos, Hawke pulled out his Nokia phone, snapped a picture of the shelter entrance, and then took one of the medical vans.
"Sir," a nearby Mexican-American passerby said, pointing to the ground, "You dropped something."
Hawke glanced down and saw a card on the ground, resembling a business card for Megan Taylor, probably taken out when he pulled out his phone.
"Thanks," Hawke said, picking up the card.
The Mexican-American didn't say anything else; he seemed slightly unsteady on his feet, limping slowly toward the shelter entrance.
Hawke flipped the card over. On it was Megan's lipstick mark with a handwritten note in eyebrow pencil, "Midnight, my place."
Hawke guessed it was something Megan had slipped into his coat pocket earlier that morning.
"Playing a little game of mystery?" he thought as he tucked the card away.
...
Edward was struggling back with a box under each arm. Hawke stepped up to help him. Just as they were close to each other, chaos erupted behind Edward. Two aggressive men were shoving a Mexican-American who had just received his burger, making him stumble backward.
Hawke quickened his pace, exceeding Edward, and positioned himself to block the man from being knocked over. The Mexican-American teetered on the edge of falling.
Hawke steadied him with a hand on his back and looked over at the aggressors. "Watch it."
A few volunteers in vests rushed over, separating the two sides, warning, "If this continues, we're going to cancel today's meal service."
The two aggressive men decided they didn't want to be the villains and turned to leave.
Upon noticing Hawke, the Mexican-American quickly offered, "Thank you."
Hawke replied, "No trouble."
The Mexican-American bent down to pick up his dropped burger, limping off towards the left intersection.
Hawke took one of Edward's boxes and asked, "Is there more?"
Edward said, "A few more items. It's crowded up ahead; Nicole will get someone to take it to the back entrance. We can drive around."
The two walked around, stashing the box in the van before driving to the back entrance of the shelter.
...
Right next to the back door was a parking lot. After they parked, Edward headed off alone to the back entrance while Hawke sat in the van, enjoying the air conditioning.
Next to him, a Dodge pickup truck pulled into the adjacent parking spot. The truck was the same model Hawke had driven when he was in Provo, and he couldn't help but glance at it.
The elderly driver turned off the engine, took out the keys, and placed them behind the sun visor before getting out to take a phone call and quickly leaving.
As Hawke pondered whether the truck might get stolen, a bald Mexican-American walked by, opened the driver's door, and climbed in, pulling out the keys to start the engine.
Seemingly seeing someone in the car, the bald man raised his left hand, giving Hawke the finger.
Hawke unhesitatingly shot back a finger of his own.
The bald man glared at him before backing the truck up and leaving.
Hawke looked in the direction the old man had gone but didn't spot him. However, he did see the limping Mexican-American hurrying toward him.
The Mexican-American leaned against the truck, looking to Hawke. "Stay out of this."
Hawke rolled down his window, quickly scanning the man's right hand, and asked, "Buddy, is something happening?"
The Mexican-American replied, "That's the mule gang from Mexico moving goods. Just ignore them; they're particularly ruthless, and you don't want to get involved."
Hawke recognized this was good advice. "Thanks, I won't go looking for trouble."
The Mexican-American started to back away.
Hawke called out to him, "Hey, what's your name?"
The Mexican-American paused. "My name is Campos."
Edward pulled a dolly from the back entrance of the shelter at that moment and chimed in, "Nice name; I remember there was a butterfly named Campos."
The Mexican-American forced a smile.
Hawke retrieved two bottles of water from the van, handing them over. "Just arrived in L.A.?"
Campos accepted the water but didn't respond.
Hawke stopped asking questions. "Thanks."
Campos walked toward the corner of the parking lot, heading toward a few other Mexican-Americans sitting on some worn cardboard in the shade.
...
Edward stowed the items and climbed into the driver's seat, curious as he drove off. "Boss, what got you interested in that Mexican guy?"
Hawke replied, "He's not just anyone. His right hand shows signs from long-term gun use, especially around the webbing and index finger."
Edward was surprised. "A gang member?"
"I'm not sure." Hawke thought for a moment. "Given the situation, this guy might be a line runner coming to L.A., probably without legal status. Tell DaShawn to keep an eye on him... and look out for him too."
Edward said, "Once I drop this stuff off, I'll go back and find him."
Hawke asked, "Have you heard of the Mule Gang?"
"I have." Edward, being a local, knew more about the underbelly of society. "They're a drug gang that emerged on the U.S.-Mexico border in recent years. I've heard about them from people in Compton. They are extremely ruthless; they shoot first and ask questions later. It's said they've taken several shipping routes and opened up the L.A. market."
Hawke nodded. "I've heard Mexican drug organizations are quite formidable."
"Mexican drug dealers are all a bunch of super outlaws." Edward thought for a moment. "A buddy of mine said that the major drug organizations in Mexico aren't even gangs; they're warlords."
He made a comparison: "When it comes to being ruthless, those little gangs can't even shine the shoes of the Mexican Mules."
Hawke noted that finding a reliable pawn like this was difficult, cautioning, "If you run into them later, keep your distance."
Edward assured him, "I'm not looking for trouble -- I'll be avoiding them. It's just that these Mexican dealers don't play fair. If they see you as a threat, they'll chase you down like rabid dogs."
...
The van returned to East Hollywood. Since Edward didn't have a place to stay temporarily, Hawke took him in while he sorted out his living situation.
Edward swore, "Boss, you have to believe me. Within half a month, I'll have things wrapped up with Deborah, moving into Downey's mansion, and beat up Downey's son."
Hawke didn't believe the rest, but he had faith in Edward's abilities in this area.
...
Edward got his things organized and treated Hawke to a great lunch that afternoon.
Both received a call from an informant around 2 PM, saying that Tom Cruise and Spanish star Penelope Cruz had shown up at the Beverly Centre.
Hawke and Edward immediately jumped in the car to head over. Yet as they arrived near the shopping center, they found it swarming with paparazzi; everywhere they looked, there were cameras.
Losing interest, Hawke urged Edward to go take photos while he would stay in the car to rest in preparation for the night's action.
Suddenly, he noticed a familiar face -- Sarah Jessica Parker -- on the shopping center's massive screen. It was a cosmetics advertisement featuring her.
Hawke watched for a moment, as the ad promoted Lancome's Aurora Essence skincare collection. Clearly, Sarah had landed this endorsement deal.
Hawke took out his phone and called Caroline.
No one picked up, and after a minute, Caroline returned his call. "I was in a meeting. Did you need something?"
Hawke said, "Miss Baa, you're not being very professional."
Caroline shot back, "How so? In learning to bleat like a sheep?"
"You could call me if you wanted," Hawke got to the point, "Your client got the Lancome endorsement thanks to my suggestion. How about giving me a cut?"
Caroline wasn't confused. "Hey, country bumpkin, if I remember correctly, your plan had Sarah spending $250,000 to secure it!"
Hawke wasn't after money; he just wanted to ensure that everything was going smoothly. He added, "If your client has any future needs regarding strategic planning, feel free to reach out to me."
"I got it," Caroline said, ending the call.
...
Before Hawke could put his phone down, it rang again, this time it was The Rock calling.
He answered right away. "Are you calling to ask me to go shoot guns or hit the gym?"
"Neither of those," Dwayne Johnson directly asked. "Hawke, you don't have any other business to deal with right now, right?"
Hawke replied seriously, "Not at the moment."
Dwayne Johnson continued, "Don't take on any other work just yet. Remember what I mentioned last time at the shooting range? I passed the screening and initial audition -- I want to go all out for the lead role. Can you help me?"
Hawke responded without hesitation, "No problem."
*****
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