The Wolf of Los Angeles

Chapter 395 - 395: Smoke Rises Again

[Chapter 395: Smoke Rises Again]

The wedding photo in the glass frame showed a striking woman and a handsome man.

Jayne recalled the time when they divorced. The bastard had left her while she was pregnant, choosing to run off with another woman. He would rather leave behind most of his wealth than stay.

Because of this, she had turned to Satanism, finding solance in the teachings of Anton LaVey.

A car accident had almost severed her ties to the outside world; many people and even the media believed she had perished in that crash.

In reality, she had become a saint of the Church of Satan and had remained so to this day.

After finishing her shower and changing clothes, Jayne exited her residence.

...

An elderly man, having removed his black goat mask, approached her. "The offering has successfully passed through Satan's blessing, and the consciousness has been restored; it can serve as the main material for soul cooking."

Jayne sat in a high-backed chair. "Let it settle overnight. Arrange for the goat to fly to New York State tomorrow morning. Make sure to contact Silarie so she can send someone directly to the tarmac to pick it up, to avoid any accidents."

"Understood," the old goat-beard man replied and left.

...

At that moment, a middle-aged man hurried in. "Your highness, one of my subordinates has been arrested by the FBI."

Jayne felt a chill. "What's going on? Explain in detail."

The man detailed, "Rekoba has been working as an overseas correspondent for World News Weekly, while also assisting the church in identifying suitable targets. He regularly contacted us, but he missed two consecutive check-ins, so I sent someone to his office to investigate. They found out he had been taken by the FBI on charges of intercepting Twitter communications."

Jayne felt a bit relieved. "Is this related to the recent incident involving BlackRock's Russian espionage and Twitter?"

The middle-aged man replied, "Our people quietly asked sources at the newspaper; they clarified that intercepting Twitter was a personal act and has nothing to do with the Russian spies."

Even so, he still had concerns. "Rekoba is officially in custody by the FBI and could face prison. I'm worried he might start talking."

Jayne considered the current media climate. "The FBI's primary focus is on the espionage case and won't concern themselves with side issues. As long as Rekoba keeps quiet, he should be fine."

The middle-aged man agreed. "I've checked. Their management isn't too strict, and he can still meet with his lawyer. I'll have the lawyer send a message in to him."

"That's good," Jayne said, waving him off.

...

Outside, car horns sounded as a vehicle drove into the estate.

The car parked on the opposite side of the villa. A young couple got out, and an individual posing as a Hollywood casting director greeted them, leading them to the basement.

What lay ahead was an unforgettable journey of the soul.

The next morning, a van transported people to the airport to catch a private flight straight to New York State.

---

West Hollywood, Artel Mountain Shooting Range.

Betty carried her gear into the VIP room. Two representatives from the LGBTQ organization, the Mattachine Society, Rosa and Solana, were already waiting.

Solana smiled. "Funding from the Overseas Typhoon Foundation has arrived. We've both just been promoted to assistant vice presidents."

Rosa picked up a fine bone china teapot and poured Betty a cup of red tea. "No amount of effort compares to the power of money."

Betty thanked her and asked, "What about your influence?"

Solana replied, "We have ample funds, helping many people. Money is the best way to win hearts; we are now important figures in several smaller groups."

Rosa added, "The infighting among these LGBTQ members is just as intense as anywhere else. We have aligned with the vice president faction."

Betty understood the reality of conflicts. Her friend Fiona had faced her share of battles within the feminist organization, the Feminist Majority Foundation, gradually gaining some power.

Solana said, "For those of us who have fought for our lives against ruthless drug dealers, these squabbles are nothing we can't handle."

Betty took a sip of her tea. "My boss asked if the Mattachine Society plans to make a move during Oscar weekend?"

She added, "The Feminist Majority Foundation has rallied hundreds to cheer for Million Dollar Baby in front of the Kodak Theater. How's your preparation going?"

Rosa smiled. "We might not have as many participants as the feminists, but we'll be more intense. This will escalate the conflict between feminism and LGBTQ; they'll become fierce enemies, attacking each other whenever they cross paths in public!"

Solana was confident. "We've mobilized the most extreme crowd possible."

She lowered her voice. "Many are Black, women, and LGBTQ combined."

Betty marveled, "You've really grasped the essence of the boss's theories."

Rosa recalled the time Hawke had personally taught them, commenting, "Didn't the boss say that, like in World of Warcraft, the one who stacks the most buffs wins the game?"

Solana interjected, "Exactly. We have two additional layers on the feminists."

Betty finished her tea, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "I wish you success."

Rosa and Solana nodded, bidding her farewell.

...

Betty made her way to the parking lot, spotted a red Mercedes, and opened the passenger door to get in.

Fiona was sitting in the driver's seat. "Any instructions from the boss?"

"Very simple. As much as possible, intend to gain the voice of the Feminist Majority Foundation," Betty replied quickly. "Los Angeles shouldn't stay quiet, and America shouldn't either."

Fiona fully agreed: "We can't remain silent. Mexico is too far from heaven but too close to America; we've lost all our loved ones just because we're too close to hell."

Betty patted her arm. "The boss won't let America stay silent."

Fiona nodded vigorously, saying, "This time, the Feminist Majority Foundation is well-prepared; we've brought in some Black women."

Betty couldn't help but laugh. "Didn't feminism used to focus mainly on white women?"

"After several failures, Michelle realized that solely relying on white women was insufficient strength," Fiona chuckled. "She learned from the lessons following the LA riots and several unsuccessful nominations before the Oscars. She joined forces with a Black feminist organization, restructuring the Feminist Majority Foundation."

She paused and added, "That Black women's organization strongly supports me."

Betty said, "Today I should also tell you that it was founded by several key women from the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP)."

Fiona reacted. "Saint Steve's people?"

Betty nodded. "Saint Steve was shaped by Hawke, and he co-founded the NAACP along with Brian Ferguson."

Fiona understood. "Got it. I'll have more confidence in my work from now on."

Betty glanced at her watch. "I need to leave. Don't rush too far ahead on Oscar night; Rosa and Solana have gathered a group of Black LGBTQ, including some with AIDS."

Fiona laughed heartily. "The most extreme and extreme feminist will definitely lead the charge!"

Betty got out of the red Mercedes and jumped into an Audi nearby, driving back to Venice. Arriving at the beachfront security company, she entered the office and called Edward, updating him on the situation.

---

At the Coastline Tower, Edward received the call and entered Hawke's office to report.

Hawke nodded slightly. "Looks like a good show is about to unfold."

Edward commented, "I'll come to check it out on the day of the event."

Hawke had no interest in attending the Oscars, but was excited about the anticipated drama. "I'll go as well."

Teams B and C of the Special Operations Bureau would remain on standby that day, while Erica needed to command from the office.

...

As Edward left the office, he spotted Frank emerging from the elevator.

The old man quickly approached Edward, walking as he asked, "Are you here to plant cotton?"

Edward didn't want to engage and directly entered a nearby small office.

This office had transparent glass doors, allowing a direct view of the chairman's office.

Frank pushed open the door, pulled out a chair, and said, "I need to talk to you about something."

The two had bantered back and forth for a long time, and seeing Frank was serious this time, Edward retrieved a bottle of mineral water and asked, "Aren't you hot and heavy with those beach lifeguards?"

On hearing this, Frank couldn't suppress the braggart within him, declaring, "With my irresistible charm, just letting it out a bit makes them all worship me; they can't wait to marry me right away."

Edward tried to bring him back to reality. "Those girls are members of the feminist organization; you should be careful."

Frank waved his hand dismissively. "I've slept with more beautiful girls than you've ever seen; don't worry about me."

Edward shook his head. "Times have changed; you still don't know how tough they are to deal with."

"Let's not talk about that." Frank got to the point, saying, "Recently, I've had a very strange feeling, like something isn't quite right in my heart."

Edward examined him from head to toe. "Who have you been messing around with now?"

Frank pointed at his chest. "It's right here. It feels off, sometimes I experience palpitations, like something is about to happen."

...

Edward remembered Hawke's orders. He quickly grabbed the phone and called in. Once the call connected, he said, "Boss, Frank is here, claiming his chest feels uncomfortable, and I'm worried about his health."

The call on the other side was immediately cut off before even a half-minute could pass. The office door opened, and Hawke walked in, seeing Frank sitting there just fine, clearly relieved. He said to Edward, "Stay with him and take him to Cedar-Sinai Medical Center for a full check-up."

Frank protested, "I'm fine, really."

Hawke insisted, "Go get checked first. We'll discuss it afterward."

Frank considered the possibility of meeting the beautiful lifeguards and finally relented. "Fine, I'll go."

That afternoon, the results came out, revealing Frank was as strong as a bull, albeit somewhat aged.

*****

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