The Wolf of Los Angeles

[Chapter 165: Head Hunter]

East Hollywood, Fountain Street.

Hawke personally took down the bronze sign from West Coast Media Studios and handed it to Frank, "Put this in the van."

Edward emerged from the door with a box in his arms, and Frank casually placed the sign atop it.

As Hawke entered the studio, he knew some of the packing work had to be done himself, especially hiding the firearms scattered throughout various rooms.

Frank picked up another box and followed behind.

By the time they were finished on the ground floor, the old man struggled to carry the box.

He glanced down at it, filled with handguns, shotguns, ARs, MP5s, and military knives.

Each gun had at least one spare magazine.

Frank couldn't help but ask, "How many guns did you actually buy?"

Hawke casually replied, "Not many -- just around twenty guns."

That's all that mattered -- this house gave him access to a weapon at any time.

Once the firearms were packed up, they moved upstairs to retrieve the remaining ones.

The lease for the Fountain Street place was up, and Hawke decided not to renew it; the west coast studio would relocate to Ocean Park Boulevard, adding a nameplate for Twitter.

Edward's office could serve as the new West Coast studio.

All weapons, office supplies, and photography equipment were properly packed into a cargo van.

The modified safe also had to come along.

Hawke coordinated with the property manager. Since he had made some alterations to the house, he settled the small compensation quickly and efficiently.

Edward drove them directly to Santa Monica.

Hawke had newly rented a not-so-big standalone villa on 20th Street in Santa Monica.

This site was even closer to Ocean Park Boulevard.

The house was two stories tall, with red roofs and yellow walls, a brick-and-mortar structure equipped with a small yard and garage, surrounded by walls over three meters high.

The area was filled with similar two-story houses, with no taller buildings nearby.

Moreover, there were no towering trees or streetlight poles surrounding the house.

As soon as Frank stepped inside, he picked up on a critical point: "Great privacy; you're ridiculously cautious."

"Can't help it; I've had my share of messy situations," Hawke replied straightforwardly, "This way, I can sleep a little easier."

Frank clasped his hands behind his back, slipping into critical mode: "Starting a business is really tough for the young folks; to make quick money, one must take some risks."

Edward came in carrying boxes, "A few days ago, a company wanted to acquire 30% of Twitter for $25 million; its valuation is now close to a hundred million. At your peak, could you compare to my boss?"

He mockingly added, "Don't forget, you're a failure now."

Frank shot back dismissively, "Even if I'm a failure, my ancestors were the ones wielding whips to reward your ancestors."

Edward was speechless.

Frank continued to obliterate him: "You were once a broke loser, chasing divorced women with kids everywhere. Not anymore; now you've got money, and they'll drain your wallet!"

Edward retorted, "I'm not as foolish as you to tie the knot with those women!"

"Do you need to get married?" Frank had been waiting for this moment, finally seizing the opportunity to strike back. "Think about the mess you two created; if a woman finds a way to accuse you, you could face serious troubles that'll cost you tons of time, energy, and money, until you're completely drained!"

Edward had been shadowing Hawke this whole time, witnessing the situations involving Sarah Parker and Jada Smith. He found himself at a loss for words.

Frank was merciless in his counterattack: "Want to know my ex-wife's name? I can tell you for free; they ruined me like this, and your net worth? Ha!"

Edward lowered his head and went outside to move boxes, not keen to learn Frank's ex-wife's name.

Hawke walked in with two large gun bags and urged Frank, "Stop chatting; get to work."

"You're a modern-day slave owner!" Frank raised his middle finger but quickly hurried to follow Edward's pace.

Hawke didn't have much in personal belongings, moving into the villa quickly.

...

The commotion of moving attracted the attention of their neighbor, a short man with a head full of blonde hair, who stepped out of his front door, curious about Hawke's activity.

Seeing Hawke and the others glance his way, he quickly approached the van to shake hands with Hawke, "Hey, new neighbor! I'm Jet Brown."

This man was just about to Hawke's shoulder height. Hawke shook his hand, "Hi, I'm Hawke Osment."

Jet Brown also greeted Edward and Frank, politely saying, "Just moved in? Need any help?"

"Thank you," Hawke smiled, "We'll be done shortly."

Edward and Frank each carried two gun bags down from the back of the van.

Hawke went over to grab the last gun bag.

Jet Brown immediately noticed the long guns inside, his expression slightly changed.

Hawke explained, "I'm a firearms enthusiast; these are my collectibles."

Such collections were common in North America. Jet Brown replied, "Actually, I'm a gun enthusiast too."

Hawke cordially remarked, "Let's exchange experiences sometime."

Jet Brown nodded and asked, "What do you do for a living?"

"Online media," Hawke pulled out a business card to hand to him.

Jet Brown took it and saw the designation of Twitter's CEO; his face brightened with a radiant smile, "You're the CEO of Twitter?"

Before Hawke could answer, he took out his own business card and handed it to Hawke, "I'm a senior talent consultant at Glimmer International in Los Angeles. If you need anyone in terms of talent, feel free to reach out."

Hawke grasped the situation. "You're a headhunter."

Jet reached over to shake hands, "Hope we can collaborate sometime."

Hawke nodded at the gun bags he was holding, smiling as he followed Edward and Frank inside the gate.

...

Jet walked back, standing before his own front door, glancing at the cargo van and then at the card in his hand, deep in thought.

Behind him, the door opened, revealing a tall blonde woman who stood half a head taller than him, asking, "Did someone move next door?"

That was Jet's girlfriend Diana Lund, a model.

Jet showed her the business card, "The super-hot Twitter CEO."

Diana glanced at the card and looked toward the van, "Everyone's talking about Twitter; they say they have some explosive dirt on Will Smith."

She seemed intrigued. "My agency -- CAA -- has strong opinions about him."

Jet, a headhunter with good judgment, cautioned, "Don't provoke him; he's a tough character."

Diana listened intently, "I'm just a small model; I wouldn't interfere in big shot disputes."

The couple quickly returned to their home.

...

Hawke instructed Edward to temporarily move the unnecessary items to the storeroom, while he began organizing the firearms in the pre-selected area.

Even on the second-story rooftop, he concealed ARs and shotguns.

Frank asked him, "Doesn't this lifestyle wear you out?"

"Life doesn't stop, and neither does the chaos!" Not only was Hawke not tired, but he was also invigorated. "You've overlooked one thing; such matters not only provide entertainment, but they also allow me to earn a fortune."

He laid out the facts, "How did my millions come about? Isn't it all because of stirring up troubles?"

Frank reflected on this for a moment, realizing Hawke spoke the truth.

...

Just as Hawke finished organizing his firearms, he received a call.

It was Jacqueline, someone he hadn't spoken to much since the acting class wrapped up.

The last time they had met, Jacqueline borrowed money from him to help a friend's daughter.

Hawke instructed Edward to drive them first to drop off Frank at Venice Beach, then they would switch cars at the office and head to Hober Hill Park.

At the usual spot in the park, Hawke met Jacqueline.

Jacqueline greeted him, "Long time no see."

Edward looked her up and down, "You seem different."

Jacqueline asked with a smile, "Do I look more like an actress?"

"Have you got any roles lately?" Hawke inquired.

Jacqueline's smile vanished, "I've only gotten background roles on two sets; I didn't even get a line. The bastards in the casting team slept with me but didn't fulfill their promises at all." 

She had come to a harsh realization: "You were right; merely sleeping around doesn't make one a star. Even when I approached the production team, after sleeping with them, they still didn't give me roles."

With the previous incident involving the underage actress and the ongoing situation with Will Smith and CAA, the path Hawke was treading clearly put him at odds with Hollywood stars.

He presumed Jacqueline wanted to find a role and bluntly said, "Aside from Eric Emerson, I don't know any other directors to help you find roles."

"That's not it; I'm not asking you for help in finding roles." Jacqueline opened her handbag and pulled out a photo to hand to Hawke, "This is Kristen Johnson; we've worked together on two sets. Like me, she has dreams of stardom, and we often hang out during production."

Hawke looked at the photo, a beautiful blonde girl.

On appearance alone, she even surpassed Jacqueline.

Jacqueline continued, "Five days ago, she suddenly went missing. I've been calling her, but she won't pick up. I've checked her place, and her clothes and luggage were still there; she disappeared completely."

Hawke asked, "How old was she?"

Jacqueline replied, "She was at most eighteen; she might not even be seventeen."

She recounted what she understood, "Kristen and I both slept with people from the production crew. I don't have a clue what happened; it's like she vanished from the world."

Edward interjected, "Didn't anyone report it?"

Jacqueline clarified, "Her mom did report it. The last time I saw Kristen, she mentioned she had spoken with her family, making amends with her mother; after that, her mom couldn't reach her anymore and came to LA to report her missing."

She glanced around, ensuring no one else was around before stating, "Could Kristen have ended up like Jessica...?"

Hawke remembered that name: "Jessica, the one you met at Superstar Acting School?"

Jacqueline reminded him, "Jessica went missing, as I told you."

Hawke questioned, "Didn't I tell you not to get involved in this matter? You didn't look into it, did you?"

"No, I've been listening to you, treating it as if it never happened," Jacqueline understood Hawke's more aggressive style, and knowing he was concerned, she certainly would not pry.

Hawke recalled something: "Which company funded the set you worked on?"

Jacqueline noted, "Many companies and funds collaborated; it seems that the main producers were Sony Columbia and Ackerman Films."

Hawke had heard that name before and immediately tucked away Kristen's photo, telling Jacqueline, "Write down her details for me, but don't look into this anymore."

Jacqueline agreed.

*****

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