[Chapter 48: Steady Progress and the Final Blow]
At a desolate stretch of land several miles from a gas station near the Beverly Shopping Center in West Hollywood, Charlie carried the Winchester M70 with a hot barrel. Tilting his head, he scratched his chin with the Nokia phone antenna and said, "This gun packs a punch, but the firing rate is slow. Pulling the bolt isn't enough for a real thrill." He glanced around and asked, "Haven't the cleanup agents shown up yet?"
Ophir, twirling his pistol, pocketed his phone and walked over. "I just checked; they went to the convenience store for lunch."
"Oh, how unreliable!" Charlie rolled his eyes, then walked toward the Chevrolet, calling out to Colombo and the others, "Let's grab some fast food; things went smoothly. I think we won't even need all the supplies we just bought."
Etto joined the group eating, still carrying residual tension on his face. Seeing the seven or eight tough guys all calm made him feel embarrassed. "Aren't we going to take care of those guys lying there? Excessive blood loss could cause trouble."
"That's not our problem!" Charlie shrugged, indifferent.
Mord, who drove over to report the news, was working excitedly. He was moving among a dozen wounded or badly torn-up guys, his eyes wide with fury as he asked them questions.
Soon after, he ran over, flashing a big smile, "Heh, boss, you and your crew really nailed it. Those bastards didn't put up a fight. I've checked; they're all Bloods gang members."
He waved off the pizza Etto offered, "I ate lunch already, brother."
"Alright." Charlie sighed regretfully. "What a hassle; these past three attacks were all them, mostly just armed with pistols. What's Panther's gang up to? They are too slow."
He took a big swig of water, about to ask Mord about the Corleone company's status when several LAPD cars pulled in.
...
Seven or eight officers quickly got out, momentarily stunned by the shouting gang members, then moved in to handle the situation.
Augustin, with a hand resting near his gun, proudly strolled over to the Chevrolet.
Charlie gave a nod, prompting Etto to quickly pull out a Sony video camera and toss it over, saying with a grin, "Detective, you're a bit late this time. The evidence is all right there."
Augustin looked speechless, spreading his hands, "Officers get breaks too, and you guys could handle the gang by yourselves."
Charlie tilted his head, smiling, "Do you need to ask questions, or do I have to go to the police station?"
"We'll need a statement, but no need to go to the station," Augustin replied expertly.
Everyone acted as if this were routine.
...
Half an hour later, the officers finished their cleanup.
Charlie, looking down with a superior air, draped an arm over Augustin's shoulder and took a few steps, "Buddy, you still haven't dealt with those Panthers?"
"I don't know," Augustin thought for a moment, adding, "The chief hasn't changed the orders."
"Alright, see you," Charlie said casually. "Oh, by the way, a few days from now, add some guys. I'm holding a big press conference. Don't worry, it's company business. Lastly, pass a message to your chief: no need to be polite."
Over the following days, keeping tabs on Charlie, Augustin saw that this young man was special.
Not everyone could, at 19, when unjustly persecuted, remain calm and even optimistic instead of angry.
Others might have wanted to tear the chief to pieces, though that wouldn't solve anything and might only bring harsher treatment.
The shift in public opinion and Charlie's composure further convinced Augustin that this guy was a potential big shot.
No one could resist showing respect or singing praise to such a character.
While not yet overtly favored, Augustin didn't hesitate to express kindness, sparing Charlie a lot of hassle, like avoiding complicated paperwork at the police station.
He promised Charlie's request and rushed back to report straight to the chief.
...
Royale enjoyed his afternoon coffee in his office. Hearing the news, he smiled with interest, "He's intriguing; I like friends who know their place. Next time you see him, tell him I appreciate the favor."
"Will do, sir!"
It was just a small favor.
Royale didn't expect much from Charlie regarding Panther's intelligence, knowing others handled richer info and that this wasn't his business.
Still, for a man in his position, using Charlie as bait was like a little game. Any unexpected gains would be like winning a free drink.
However, Royale's indifference brought a life threat to Charlie!
The reality was harsh, but Charlie met it with a stubborn, rational, optimistic attitude.
Eventually, Royale took notice.
Soon, like McCarny and others over three months ago, Royale wouldn't just notice but would have to offer his friendship.
...
Charlie, a seasoned streetwise guy, had been through enough hardship.
After initial fury, he became indifferent and even enjoyed the unfolding situation.
Especially as problems were resolved one by one and outlook brightened.
He began to care about Corleone Studios' team members.
Kevin and the others initially handled Charlie's encouragement with calm. As public opinion wildly shifted, those inside the company -- such as Gore, Nina Charles, and Locke -- experienced emotional ups and downs.
Currently, things were okay. A few whispers floated, but at least no idiots like Alicia jumped in to make things worse.
Even Spike Lee and Halle Berry remained silent.
"Harvey's attempt to poach people is useless; that bastard underestimated you," Mord gestured passionately. "Only Nina privately contacted Harvey. I found out that this woman is a little shaken and didn't explicitly reject him."
Charlie's smile cooled slightly, "Did she leak the book outline I gave?"
"No."
The outline was given in parts; the writer only received the next after completing a few thousand words.
Leaking would not cause much loss but would bring many troubles.
Charlie smiled happily again. "Good, doubts are normal. So except for Alicia, most people aren't idiots!"
Mord flattered, "Of course, everyone admires you."
"Ha! Soon my friends will truly admire me. Let's go; we have one last job -- to deal with Harvey!" Charlie was in an excellent mood.
...
The dominoes had all been set, and Harvey was easily toppled!
Although before signing the agreement, the fat slob spewed insults like a scorned woman, cursing, "You're more shameless than me!" In the end, reluctantly and with a spoiled, childish pout, he accompanied Charlie to a grand press conference at the Hilton Hotel.
*****
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