The Wolf of Los Angeles

[Chapter 288: Striking Gold]

The massive crocodile fell silent. Hawke grabbed a rock and tossed it onto the creature's head, confirming it was dead.

Duran looked at Erica. "Nice shooting."

Erica switched off her Savage rifle safety, responding, "Thanks for giving me the shot."

Blood continued to pool from the croc, the scent intensifying.

Hawke approached the crocodile, measuring it with his foot. "Must be around five meters."

Duran stepped closer. "In terms of American crocodiles, this is quite massive. If you want something bigger, you'd have to head to Africa for Nile crocodiles or Australia for saltwater crocs."

"Africa?" Erica, slinging her rifle, approached. "When targeting Africa, hunting an elephant or lion would be ideal."

Duran perked up at the thought. "If you're interested, I could help you get in touch. Legal permits are limited every year."

Hawke recalled the story of an American-Indian hunter in Africa and said, "I might reach out if I need help."

Duran instructed his two assistants, "Quick, retrieve the crane truck and cargo truck."

The assistants hurried off to retrace their steps.

Erica remarked, "I remember the hunting company you worked with provided taxidermy services?"

"Absolutely, they're quite adept at it," Duran replied. "Once we have cell reception, I'll notify them to come by."

Duran asked, "Want to get a photo?"

Hawke gestured to Raul. "We brought our own camera."

Understanding the implication, Duran stepped aside.

...

Erica drew Hawke closer to the crocodile's head, both standing beside the gigantic creature for a snapshot.

Raul pulled out a digital camera, snapping photos of Hawke and Erica posing with their weapons.

Afterward, they took images holding their guns.

Once satisfied with the shots, Raul put his camera away.

...

Two trucks rolled in, one equipped with a crane for large catches.

Duran found the right tools, removed the hook from the crocodile's mouth, and tied it securely around the creature's neck, hanging it on the crane's hook.

The machine whirred as it lifted the massive beast.

Duran measured its length -- 5.04 meters.

Hawke and Erica stood on either side of the suspended crocodile, posing for Raul again.

The crocodile, now all but lifeless, had a particularly potent odor.

Nevertheless, the group paid it no mind. With four trucks and a dozen firearms, they felt secure, ready to face whatever wildlife they might encounter.

In many Hollywood horror movies centered around animal attacks, creatures tend to be portrayed as more powerful than they were, showcasing a human inability to use tools effectively.

These kinds of stories often falter if modern firepower were in play, much like zombie films.

After a morning spent waiting, and following the time-consuming hunt, even Hawke and Erica began to feel hunger pangs.

...

The group cleared a patch of relatively dry land, setting up a temporary camp for lunch.

Duran ventured out, returning with a wild turkey.

The meat wasn't particularly palatable, especially outside of Thanksgiving.

He cut off two legs, throwing the remainder into the water.

Hawke grilled a leg, but the taste was subpar.

Erica had a single bite before pushing it away. "Your cooking skills are usually solid; what's with this taste?"

Hawke shrugged, "The ingredients are just bad; even the chef can't work miracles."

Duran approached Hawke and Erica, "Once we finish eating, let's rest a bit. We'll head back; once we have signal, I'll get in touch with the hunting company to pick up the crocodile. Then, we'll delve back into the woods looking for black bears."

Hawke agreed, "Sounds good."

Once Duran stepped away, Erica handed Hawke a bottle of water, suggesting, "If we don't find bears this afternoon, let's go after a wild boar for Brian."

Wild boars were rampant in this area, and after pondering, Hawke added, "If we can't get a bear, we can snag another crocodile."

"Sounds reasonable," Erica responded.

...

From a short distance, Duran's assistant, Leimier, had a stomachache and he needed the restroom.

Duran, still eating, shouted, "You better go downwind and far away, or I'll toss you in the lake!"

The assistant responded with a rude gesture.

Leimier, taking care to find considerable distance, moved off nearly a hundred meters before situating himself behind a large tree.

As he squatted down, the relief was immediate, but soon he noticed a foul odor and quickly realized something was off.

Although Leimier wasn't as experienced as Duran, he had spent years outdoors, recognizing the scent of a predator.

He whipped around, spotting a nearly two-meter tall black bear not far behind him.

Its dark fur was speckled with white powder, eyes bloodshot as it seemingly wandered in a daze.

Not wanting to find out what would happen next, he leapt for a nearby tree, yelling at the top of his lungs, "Help! Help!"

His cries echoed in the distance, prompting the bear to react.

With a thunderous growl, it lunged in his direction.

Leimier climbed quickly, but the black bear was not slow at all and was extremely manic, opening its mouth to bite. But it hadn't caught up yet, and its mouth could only bite the air.

Seeing the black bear getting closer and closer, Leimier calculated the distance and jumped onto another tree nearby.

However, his unpulled-up trousers hindered his legs and he didn't jump that far before falling straight down.

With a thud, he hit the ground, just as the bear crashed down behind him.

This mishap afforded him a moment's gap; he quickly yanked up his pants and darted toward the trucks, still bellowing, "Help! Help!"

...

Duran perked up, recognizing the urgency in Leimier's voice, running toward the commotion.

Hawke listened in, recognizing the cry. "That's a bear roar!"

In a swift motion, he grabbed his Remington shotgun, rushing into the woods.

Erica followed closely, moving at a deliberate pace with her Savage rifle raised to cover Hawke as they ran together, a seamless routine from their year of training.

Raul and the others swiftly picked up their pace.

The roars continued, mixed with Leimier's panicked cries.

Duran drew his handgun, shooting a round into the air.

After the gunfire echoed, the black bear became all the more agitated.

Leimier, quick as lightning, found a relatively thin tree to hoist himself onto, while the bear, not interested in climbing, stood on hind legs, shaking the tree hard.

Duran shot again and again, yet the distance rendered his handgun ineffective against the rampaging bear.

Seeing the opportunity arise, Hawke wouldn't let it slip by -- he loaded bear rounds, outpacing Duran to get a shot in.

The tree, unable to bear the weight, tilted precariously.

The bear howled again, and Hawke took aim, steadied the shotgun against his shoulder, and squeezed the trigger.

Boom!

As he fired, Hawke quickly ejected the spent shell and swiftly loaded a second shot.

Two slugs found their mark, entering the bear's mouth and exiting through the back of its skull.

Blood sprayed from the bear's head as it tumbled to the ground.

Hawke kept his shotgun ready, scanning the surroundings before lowering it.

He glanced at the blood and flesh smeared on the forest floor, recognizing it wouldn't need much more cleaning.

Brian wouldn't mind a patched bear trophy.

...

Duran, older and slower, finally caught up, giving Hawke a nod. "Thank you."

Hawke acknowledged the gesture with a slight nod.

Duran hurried to check on Leimier, who appeared shaken but largely unscathed.

Erica and the rest soon caught up.

Hawke informed her, "We got Brian a bear."

Stepping closer, Erica examined the bear. "That's a unique scent."

Hawke examined the white powder on the bear. Trusting Erica's expertise, he asked, "How did it get covered in this stuff?"

Duran urged Leimier to clean up, while another assistant joined them at the bear's side.

As Hawke rummaged through the bear's paw, he pulled free a strip of orange fabric.

Duran probed at the white powder smeared near the bear's mouth, taking a sniff and promptly wiping it off. "Looks like this stupid bear ate some coke; no wonder it wasn't frightened by the gunfire."

Hawke replied, "It's rare for a bear to eat something like that."

Erica, through her binoculars, scanned the woods and noted a torn orange package in the distance. "That bag resembles what's on the bear."

The assistants chimed in, "Shall we check it out?"

Leimier, taking the lead, moved toward the package, with Duran and another assistant following close behind.

Hawke exchanged a glance with Erica. With an understanding nod, they spread out, continuing their search.

The bodyguards trailed at a careful distance.

Leimier reached the ripped bag first, squatting down to investigate. As he opened it, he pulled out multiple small plastic bags filled with the same white powder.

Duran hastened over, picking up one of the bags to weigh it in his hand. "This could fetch a fortune in Orlando -- hundreds of thousands of dollars."

"That means we hit the jackpot!" one of the assistants exclaimed.

Hawke and Erica exchanged wary glances and simultaneously took a firm grip on their weapons, flipping the safeties off.

Hawke signaled Raul and the others to be on high alert.

*****

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