Capítulo 293: Chapter 293: They Killed My Dog
In the morning, Marcus got ready and walked into the living room. Daisy and John rushed over excitedly.
He filled the dog bowls with food and water, patted their heads, and said, "Take care of the house. I'll be back before noon for lunch." The two Labradors wagged their tails and dug into their breakfast.
After locking the door, Marcus hopped into his parked pickup truck and sped off to Sherman Oaks.
He had arranged to meet Martin Davis at the Angels Club this morning through Chad yesterday.
This meeting was critical to Marcus, as it could determine if he could transition into his dream career in the film industry.
If acting didn't work out, he considered becoming a stuntman or an action gun instructor.
Marcus had left the army and was no longer interested in the tough, combat-heavy work.
Meeting Chad and Martin might open the door to Hollywood for him.
When Marcus arrived in Sherman Oaks, he spotted Martin, Chad, and Bruce at the Angels Club.
He walked over and shook hands with each of them.
Kane had set up a private room for them to discuss important matters.
Martin had previously asked Bruce to gather information about a US military operation called "Red Wings."
Combined with Chad's explanation, Marcus got the full picture.
Chad whispered something to Marcus, emphasizing the significance of this meeting.
Marcus shared in detail his experiences in Afghanistan.
His account was so vivid that Martin was convinced it resembled a movie he had seen, perhaps starring Mark Wahlberg.
After listening to Marcus, Martin was visibly moved, saying, "I can't truly grasp what you went through in Afghanistan since I've never been there, but based on your description, man, you're a legend!"
Marcus modestly responded, "The real legends and heroes are my three teammates."
Martin was determined that their deeds should be widely known, "The public, and everyone in the United States, must understand what you did for this country."
Marcus proposed, "Martin, can this story be adapted into a movie or a TV series? Even a documentary would work. They sacrificed their lives for our country; we can't let that be forgotten."
Martin understood the value of hard-earned success and remained pensive.
Marcus added, "I'm willing to give you the rights..."
Martin raised his hand, signaling him to wait.
After a moment of contemplation, Martin revealed his decision.
Marcus, with limited connections in Hollywood, anxiously awaited Martin's response.
Martin stated, "Marcus, you and Chad are friends, and Chad is like a brother to me. I need to be upfront with you."
Marcus nodded, encouraging him to continue.
Martin explained, "Running a film project is a complex endeavor. Whether it's a true story or an adaptation, it involves a process and cooperation from all parties."
He addressed Marcus's proposal, "Operation Red Arrow isn't well-known in North America. After years of the war on terror, the public's attention has shifted away from Afghanistan. To attract investment and other studios' interest, I must demonstrate that this project can be profitable..."
Marcus understood, offering, "I can grant you the rights for free."
Martin disagreed, "That's not what I had in mind. Free often turns out to be the most expensive."
He explained, "Here's my plan: first, let's not rush into a movie adaptation. I'll find a writer to help you create a memoir about your experiences. We'll introduce it to the book market to make your story more widely known. As soon as it gains traction, my studio will secure the film and TV rights."
Chad interjected, "This is a safer approach. Many former CIA or FBI agents publish memoirs after retiring and wait for them to gain recognition before adapting them into movies."
He cited an example, "The 'Catch Me If You Can' collaboration between Leonardo and Spielberg is a prime instance."
Marcus concurred, "Alright." He reiterated, "You don't have to pay me; I just want my teammates' stories to be known..."
Martin, aware of the fluctuating nature of people's intentions, wanted to avoid future complications. He stated, "We're friends, and we'll keep it that way. Friendship is one thing, and business is another."
Marcus agreed, "I'm on board."
Martin inquired, "Do you have any material from Afghanistan that can help us find a suitable writer?"
Marcus looked at Martin and Chad, inviting them, "There's a restaurant near my place; why don't you join me to gather the materials? It's my treat, a way to show my gratitude."
With a couple of free days, Martin agreed, "Then I'll take you up on that."
They continued to chat for a while before heading to the club and setting off for Santa Monica.
South of Santa Monica, four men of African descent were driving a stolen car, which they parked by the side of the road.
Bald Alfonso questioned, "Is that the house with the red-tiled roof, Edmund? Is that our target?"
Edmund, extending his massive arm, pointed and replied confidently, "Boss, there's no doubt about it. Akers and I can vouch for it."
Akers, the shortest among them, sported a Magnum revolver and chimed in, "That guy recently moved here from elsewhere, not an L.A. local. Edmund and I saw it ourselves. He brought a bunch of boxes, and they looked valuable."
Alfonso inquired further, "Are you certain about what's in those boxes?"
Aix added, "I can't say for sure, but according to the movers, all the boxes are locked with combinations. Anything normal wouldn't be locked up tight like that."
Alfonso nodded, "Alright, let's give it a shot."
He gestured to Diaz, who had remained quiet, "Diaz, all the houses here have back doors. I suggest we use the back entrance."
Alfonso started the car, drove past their target house, and asked, "Does he have a dog at home?"
Edmund confirmed, "There was no dog when he moved in, I'm sure of that."
Alfonso, relieved, circled around to the back door of the single-family house.
He kept the engine running and instructed, "Get ready; I'll be waiting in the car."
Diaz was the first to exit the car, followed by Aix and Edmund. They climbed over a green belt and, with little effort, picked the lock of the back door. Edmund entered the house first.
Aix and Diaz followed, but suddenly, a dog started barking.
Aix quickly drew his Magnum revolver, and two Labradors rushed into the room, barking at the intruders.
John, the male dog, had a more aggressive temperament and lunged at Edmund.
Witnessing the approaching large dog, both Aix and Diaz raised their revolvers.
Gunshots rang out!
John was shot in the head, yelped, and fell at Edmund's feet.
Daisy, the female dog, was hit in the neck and fled after a yelp.
"Hurry!" the three intruders shouted, and, showing courage, they entered the living room, searching for the valuable items they had heard about.
However, a powerful pickup truck's engine roared from the courtyard, indicating that someone was returning, and it wasn't just one car.
Being outnumbered was a cause for concern.
Edmund, being the quickest, dashed out and yelled, "They're back! Let's go!"
The three fled through the back door without wasting time.
They rushed outside, hopped into the car, and Edmund urged Alfonso, "Boss, let's get out of here!"
Meanwhile, on the other side of the front door, five people arrived at the house Marcus had rented, arriving in two cars just as they heard the gunshots.
Bruce, who had experience, identified, "Those were Magnum revolver shots."
The pickup truck in front screeched to a halt. Marcus, Kane, and Chad jumped out, each armed with an M9, and headed for the yard.
Bruce, too, retrieved his gun, cautiously exiting the car.
Bringing up the rear, Martin carefully clutched a Glock.
Marcus, leading the group, called out, "Daisy, John!"
There was no response.
He opened the door and entered. The room was empty, but the scent of blood was heavy in the air.
"Daisy!" Marcus cried out in anguish.
Kane, Chad, and Bruce followed, with Martin still at the rear.
Inside the living room, a Labrador named Daisy lay in a pool of blood, unmoving.
Marcus, overcome with grief, closed Daisy's eyes and rushed to the back door, where he saw John's lifeless body.
The male dog had been shot in the head.
"Ah! Ah -" Marcus let out a heart-wrenching cry, releasing his inner pain.
Chad, who had a dog of his own, understood the anguish and muttered, "This is terrible."
Marcus gently touched the wound on John's head, closed his eyes, and stood up.
Martin suggested, "We should call the police."
Marcus nodded and instructed Kane, "Call the police for me."
He then made his way to the kitchen, entering a storage room with a table connecting the front and rear doors, where a surveillance camera was mounted.
Marcus accessed the surveillance feed, then stepped back, retrieved a box, unlocked a combination, and donned a tactical vest, securing two M9s with magazines.
"Man, calm down," Martin advised.
Marcus retorted, "They killed my dog!"
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