The Wolf of Los Angeles

Chapter 24: For Whom the Fireworks Bloom

In just three minutes, Edward Connor arrived at the delivery spot in his car, but he didn’t see the buyer.

“Over here,” a man’s voice called from a shadowy alley. The faint glow of a phone screen lit up a friendly-looking face.

Edward turned his car into the alley, driving deeper into the darkness. He wasn’t worried or afraid; as a Compton native, the night was his domain.

“Good thing I’ve got guts. Who else would dare make a delivery like this?” Edward got out of the car, popping the trunk open. “You promised to double the goods and delivery fee—short me even a dollar, and these beauties stay right here!”

Hawk glanced at Edward’s not-so-dark face, paid the agreed amount, and walked toward the fire escape. “Help me carry them up. Follow my instructions, and I’ll add another $100.”

Edward’s tone turned wary. “What are you up to? I’ll tell you right now—fireworks are meant for the sky. If you set them off wrong, people could die!”

Hawk pointed upward. “Just fire them where I tell you to.”

Tempted by the extra $100, Edward picked up a box but couldn’t resist adding, “Don’t tell Brittie about this cash. If she finds out I made extra, she’ll force me to take her daughter to the amusement park.”

Edward, true to his style, talked even as he worked. “A man shouldn’t rush—it’s about power, not speed. One step at a time.”

Once on the rooftop, Hawk directed him to the highest platform. “Go there, set it up, and wait for my signal to light them.”

Edward spotted Hawk’s camera setup. “Whoa, man, that camera is something else. You could fetch a few grand for it on the black market.”

A native Angeleno, Edward made a quick guess. “You’re a reporter, right? Shooting something? Someone famous causing trouble in that hotel over there?”

“Shut up and do your job,” Hawk replied curtly.

Though Edward’s mouth kept running, his hands stayed busy. He carried the boxes to the platform, set up the fireworks, then sat on the edge, looking toward the hotel. Pulling out a lighter, he asked, “So, you’re a journalist? What are you waiting for? Why not light them now?”

Hawk checked the time and replied offhandedly, “Do you think anyone in the middle of an affair has the mood to enjoy fireworks?”

“Of course!” Edward said, using himself as an example. “I like leaving the curtains and windows wide open—enjoying the view while handling business.”

He turned to Hawk, surprised. “You actually pull the curtains shut? Man, that’s so old-fashioned, so outdated, so...boring!”

Feeling the disdain dripping from Edward’s tone, Hawk shot him the middle finger. “Shut up.”

Edward shook his head. “You need to face the real issue here. Look at what you’re doing—ignore the root problem, and you’re gonna lose it.”

Ignoring the lecture, Hawk used binoculars to focus on the shadows flickering behind the curtains of room 407. He rushed to the camera, adjusted the long lens, and waved his hand at Edward. “Fire it up—two at a time.”

Edward lit two fireworks, muttering, “I used to get hauled into the Compton police station all the time and walk right out. But you? You’d get unlucky in there—some of those guys love a big, strong dude like you.”

The fireworks launched with a series of bangs, spiraling into the sky before exploding into brilliant colors.

At the hotel entrance, a few valets glanced up, momentarily mesmerized by the unexpected show. Guests in street-facing rooms pulled back their curtains to enjoy the sudden spectacle.

But the curtains of room 407 stayed firmly closed.

“Another round?” Hawk muttered.

“Don’t stop! Keep them coming!” he shouted.

Edward, unbothered by propriety, grew increasingly enthusiastic. The sparks seemed to ignite his energy as he loudly cheered and continued lighting more fireworks.

The sky grew brighter, and more hotel windows opened as people looked out.

“Keep going!” Hawk urged.

While lighting more fireworks, Edward shouted back, “Man, if the LAPD shows up, we’re both toast. Those guys empty entire magazines!”

“That’s for you, not me,” Hawk shot back.

For the first time, Edward found himself at a loss for words.

As more fireworks erupted, the entire neighborhood’s attention was drawn skyward.

Inside room 407, Sarah Parker, startled by the glow and sound, rose to peek through the curtains. She gasped at the dazzling display and called out, “Look! Fireworks!”

Wrapped in a blanket, Robert Downey Jr. joined her by the window. “Beautiful fireworks,” he remarked.

“Is this your surprise for me?” Sarah asked excitedly.

Downey thought to himself that he had already given her several “billion-dollar surprises,” but he simply replied, “Yeah.”

Sarah threw herself into his arms for a passionate kiss, which Downey eagerly reciprocated.

From the rooftop, Hawk worked like an emotionless machine, clicking the shutter repeatedly to capture the intimate moments through the open window.

As the fireworks finale approached, Edward lit the last of them, his excitement at its peak.

The brilliant colors illuminated not only the night but also Hawk’s rooftop position.

Downey suddenly noticed a figure on the opposite rooftop, camera in hand. Panicking, he closed the curtains, pushed Sarah aside, and peeked out.

“He’s a paparazzo!” Downey exclaimed with a curse.

Realizing the gravity of the situation, Sarah immediately grabbed her phone. “We’ve got a problem. I was on a date, and a journalist might have caught us. If it were Bro Derek, I wouldn’t be calling you right now. I’m alerting PR.”

Downey also made a call, contacting the same crisis PR agency as Sarah.

On the rooftop, Hawk swiftly dismantled his camera setup, packed everything into his bag, and folded the tripod as he shouted, “Let’s go!”

Edward didn’t miss a beat, following Hawk down the fire escape.

Back at the car, Hawk instructed, “Follow me. We’ll regroup outside this block.”

Edward hopped into his car and tailed Hawk’s Mondeo as they left the alley and drove to another neighborhood.

No sirens or flashing lights appeared. The LAPD, stretched thin, didn’t care about a fireworks display.

Hawk pulled into a parking lot with multiple exits. Edward, driving skillfully, followed and parked next to him.

Hawk handed Edward $100 and a business card. “If you come across anything interesting, call me.”

Edward checked the bills and pocketed the card with interest. “Man, your job is wild. Pays well, too—big bucks?”

“Just enough to scrape by,” Hawk replied vaguely.

Edward didn’t buy it. “Next time you’ve got easy money to make, give me a call.”

After Edward drove off, Hawk remembered there was still someone to pay.

Returning to the hotel, he switched into his disguise before entering the lobby. As expected, Jacqueline was waiting in the lounge, scanning for him.

Hawk approached, handing her the prepared cash. “This is yours.”

Jacqueline asked in a low voice, “Those fireworks—were they yours?”

Hawk deflected. “What fireworks?”

Jacqueline looked puzzled but let it go.

Hawk handed her more business cards. “You’ve got plenty of friends, right? Give these to them. If they come across valuable people or events, tell them to call this number.”

He pointed to the cash in her hand. “As you can see, I’m generous. Money won’t be an issue.”

Jacqueline misunderstood. “I can’t help you expose celebrity scandals involving us. Our managers would never let it slide.”

Hawk shook his head. “I don’t need photos, just tips.”

Jacqueline pocketed the cash and cards.

Hawk returned to his car, drove away from the hotel, and pulled out his phone. Checking the contacts he had collected earlier, he thought about how to monetize the night’s footage.

Choosing the right media outlet would ensure a good price.

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