The Wolf of Los Angeles

[Chapter 307: Smart Cars]

West Beverly Hills, Los Angeles Country Club.

Edward pulled up in his Mercedes sedan, easing into the parking lot near the entrance.

Hawke stepped out and immediately noticed a crowd gathered near the restaurant on one side of the club.

"Looks like some environmental group," Edward said, hopping onto a ledge for a better view. He squinted, then jumped down and turned to Hawke. "It's the Sierra Club. They're protesting the restaurant serving Smelt fish."

Hawke had been to the club before and eaten the fish in question. Back then, the menu listed it as "Capelin fish," though he knew it was just a fancier name for Smelt. "They import it from Germany," he said. "Supposedly a big deal for their economy over there."

Edward glanced back at the commotion, then caught up with Hawke. "Those eco-nuts are something else," he muttered.

Hawke kept walking. "They've got sponsors footing the bill. Doesn't matter what they do -- they don't need real jobs. Stirring up trouble pays better than punching a clock. If they didn't have that cash, they'd be out on the street like bums, too busy scrounging for food to care about fish."

Nearby, Mary Ferguson climbed out of her car and overheard him. She shot Hawke a look. "Well said."

Mary fell into step beside him as they headed inside the club. "For someone your age to see through the hidden agenda like that? That's rare."

Hawke gestured toward the Sierra Club protesters. "Groups like them get handouts from the Democrats here in North America, and overseas they've got the International Development Agency padding their pockets. That's how it works, right?"

Mary smirked. "It's more than that. The Republicans toss them some cash too. These folks are a tool -- doesn't matter who's holding the leash. Like what you and Brian have been up to lately."

She knew the bigger picture. "The International Development Agency's a given. Environmentalism, carbon emissions -- it's the perfect stick to beat back any country trying to climb the ladder. America sets the rules, makes it the price of admission. If you can't meet the bar, you're locked out of Western markets."

Hawke wasn't fazed. "Yeah, the Agency's real claim to fame is long-distance ranching."

Mary frowned. "Ranching?"

"Raising attack dogs," Hawke said with a shrug. "They fund eco-warriors in other regions -- hand them cash to play the 'save the planet' card to halt progress in their local areas."

Mary chuckled. "That's a dead-on way to put it."

...

The three of them entered the club, grabbed their golf bags from storage, and hopped into a cart headed for the course.

Peter Thiel was already waiting at the tee-off area. Beside him stood a tall, fat white guy Hawke recognized -- Elon Musk, Peter's old business buddy.

Musk, ever the social butterfly, didn't wait for an introduction. He strode over and gripped Hawke's hand. "You're the new golden boy of Silicon Valley." ℞ἁɴổ𝔟ÈⱾ

Hawke shook his hand, playing it cool. "That's laying it on a bit thick, don't you think?"

"Truth's wilder than you'd guess," Musk shot back, grinning. "Twitter's the king of online social media now -- hands down."

Hawke stayed wary. Musk was the type to smile while slipping a knife between your ribs. What was he after?

Musk turned and greeted Mary with the same over-the-top charm.

The four of them moved to the tee. Mary took the first swing, then they each followed. Peter had some skill, but Hawke and the others were just hacking away. Golf wasn't about the game anyway -- it was about the schmoozing.

They didn't even finish the first hole before the conversation took over. Musk plopped onto the golf cart and started in about electric vehicles. "Driving up, I saw those environmentalists protesting. At first, I figured they were mad about the water this place guzzles."

Peter chimed in. "Word is, the club uses as much water in a year as all of LA's residents combined."

Hawke jumped in. "Reminds me of something. Back when I was in school in Wyoming, every other group was preaching 'save water.'"

Musk cracked up. "If the little people don't save it, how are we supposed to blow through it?"

The others nodded -- couldn't argue with that logic.

Musk steered things back. "Green's the hot topic now. I'd bet the next few decades, it's all anyone talks about. It's gonna sink deep into people's heads." He patted the cart. "Electric cars are the future -- huge market waiting."

Hawke caught on, casually asking, "Are you looking to invest in electric vehicles?"

"Exactly," Musk replied earnestly. "My goal this year is to invest in an electric car company."

Mary spoke softly. "You're not here for golf. You're hunting investors."

Musk didn't dodge it. "Not just cash -- your platforms too." He leaned in. "I could get a bank loan for tens of millions, no sweat. But funding's more than money -- it's about resources to kick things into gear."

Peter, who'd worked with Musk before, knew his style. "You want to hype up the electric car buzz?"

Musk's eyes locked on Hawke, practically burning. "Twitter's the biggest influencer online right now. Its users -- they're the ones who jump on new ideas, new tech. My research says they're the prime buyers for electric cars down the road."

Hawke got it. Tech-savvy folks were more likely to bite on electric vehicles.

"I'll level with you," Musk pressed, voice thick with conviction. "Invest in electric cars today, and you'll see ten times the return later. It's a rising star -- where cars are headed. Cuts fuel emissions, quiets the roads. Better for the planet, your wallet, and the drive -- beats gas-guzzlers every way you slice it."

Mary, the oldest of the group and least plugged into the industry, tilted her head. "Building cars is a whole machine -- chassis, transmission, control systems. Takes years to get it right."

Musk grinned. "Electric's a different beast. Doesn't lean so hard on all that old-school know-how."

Peter backed him up. "If this was regular car-making, I wouldn't even hear Elon out -- I'd show him the door."

They rolled up to a rest stop. Musk waved the cart driver over, and the four of them piled out, grabbing drinks and settling under a big umbrella.

Musk kept his focus on Hawke. "It's bigger than that. Picture this: electric cars tied into the web. Take Twitter -- build it right into the car. Voice commands, whatever, so you're online while you drive. Car and internet, working together."

Most people might've shrugged it off, but Hawke knew it wasn't far-fetched.

Musk kept rolling. "Smart tech's the future. Electric cars plus the internet -- AI's the key. That's where the web's headed too."

Hawke nodded. "You're not wrong. Twitter's got AI baked into our plans for the back half of this year."

Musk pounced. "We should team up. This could be the poster child for the internet and electric cars joining forces."

He'd been scoping out an electric car outfit since last year and hated their stale ideas. To him, the future was networked, smart cars -- not just better batteries. Thanks to his old tie with Peter, Twitter was his first pick. Sure, he was tight with Google's founders, but for social clout, Twitter smoked them. With over 40 million active users worldwide, it was a goldmine.

Electric cars needed buzz, and Twitter was the megaphone. Musk planned to be the voice.

Hawke didn't need to guess -- Musk wanted Twitter for the tech tie-in and the hype machine. The guy was a marketing wizard, maybe the best since Steve Jobs, with a fanbase that practically worshipped him.

Mary wasn't as tech-savvy and stayed quiet, watching Hawke for cues.

Hawke cut to it. "You starting a car company from scratch or buying one out?"

Musk laid it out. "I've been digging since last year. Two guys -- Martin Eberhard, an electrical whiz, and Marc Tarpenning, a computer guy -- started a company called Tesla last July. They're in over their heads, though -- cash is tight. They asked me to invest."

He grabbed his drink, raising it to the group. "Back in February, I gave them my terms: I'd invest, but I take control -- chairman, final say on everything."

Peter smirked. "You and Hawke both need to run the show."@@novelbin@@

Hawke shrugged. "Gotta keep everyone rowing the same way, or it's chaos and collapse."

"Exactly," Musk said, pointing at Peter, then back to Hawke. "Tesla's founders took the deal. I ran into this guy in February, he mentioned you, and it clicked -- Twitter's perfect. Tesla's cars need to be game-changers, and that means tying them to the web. Twitter's the best fit."

Hawke didn't flinch. "When it comes to people and the internet, Twitter's got everyone beat."

*****

/Sayonara816.