Capítulo 75: Raven Corps
In the days that followed since Lorenzo and his cohorts had successfully deceived Patrol Officer Leroy Tate into believing they were FBI agents, Errol's establishment continued its illicit operations unabated. Max and the others carried on with their usual dealings, all the while maintaining a low profile to avoid arousing suspicion from the likes of Officer Floyd Rose and his subordinates.
Lorenzo, meanwhile, had the foresight to rent a separate abode in Boyle Heights, granting him the autonomy he needed to direct his men without arousing suspicion. He knew it was crucial to keep up appearances, so as not to arouse any suspicions from the local law enforcement.
As for Max and the rest of the crew, they remained at Errol's apartment, diligently following the plan that Lorenzo had so meticulously orchestrated.
A few days prior, Lorenzo had announced to Adam and the others that he was set to marry Deborah. The news spread like wildfire through the gang, and celebrations ensued in the two-story apartment that Lorenzo had thoughtfully rented out for the occasion. Renting the entire place was no issue for him, as their ill-gotten gains from their illegal businesses amounted to hundreds of thousands of dollars.
The apartment, tucked away in the heart of the lowly Boyle Heights neighborhood, now served as their temporary company building. In order to blend in and stay one step ahead of the law, Lorenzo had dispatched Adam and the others to scout the area. They soon discovered that the only criminal element in the vicinity were small-time thugs, who posed little threat to their group.
Despite the presence of a military base just north of the Olympic Boulevard Bridge, there were still petty thugs running amok, specializing in break-ins and holdups.
Adam relayed this information to Lorenzo, who chuckled and rested his chin in his hand. "Well, these thugs don't seem like much of a big problem," he mused. A sly grin crept onto his face as he continued, "I think it would be better if we built a reputation around this neighborhood. If you see them pulling any holdups or break-ins, stop them. We might as well gain the favor of the ordinary civilians."
Richard frowned, "Does that really matter? Why don't we just invade their hideouts once we know where they are and force them under our rule?"
Lorenzo's smile widened. "We'll get there, Richard, we'll get there."
While it was true that Lorenzo wanted to establish his gang's reputation and gain the favor of the ordinary civilians, there was another reason behind his seemingly altruistic plan. He had received a mission from his system, which read:
[Mission: Establish your group's reputation in your new neighborhood base. Reward: Gain respect and favor of the ordinary residents in Boyle Heights(effect: Your group's expansion in the neighborhood will be much easier). 1x Level up.]
Lorenzo knew that completing this mission would not only help them blend in but also pave the way for their future operations.
Lorenzo's smile faded as he contemplated the mission task at hand. His mind wandered to the other neighborhoods in the city, particularly those with more notoriety like Downtown and Wilshire. He knew that the small-time thugs in Boyle Heights wouldn't compare to the more notorious gangs in areas like Downtown or Wilshire, which boasted a higher concentration of street numbers.
Boyle Heights, much like Melrose, had fewer street numbers, which translated to weaker gangs overall. However, Lorenzo was no fool. He knew better than to underestimate the other Los Angeles neighborhoods just because Boyle Heights seemed tame in comparison. There were always sharks lurking in even the calmest of waters, and he wasn't about to let his guard down.
***
A group of small-time thugs under the notorious gang leader, Diego, prowled the streets of Boyle Heights. One of them, a burly man named Daniel, spotted a well-dressed woman walking alone. Grinning wolfishly, he gestured to his cohorts, and in broad daylight, they dragged her into a nearby alleyway.
"Let me go! Help!" the woman screamed, her cries for help echoing down the deserted street. The few onlookers who witnessed the scene froze, but upon seeing the glint of knives in the thugs' hands, they thought better of intervening.
"What? Do you guys have any problem?" Daniel sneered, brandishing his blade.
The bystanders exchanged uneasy glances, shaking their heads before resuming their business. It was, after all, just another day in the life of the American Mexican thugs who terrorized these very streets.
Other bystanders continued with their day, some of them rushing to call the police from a nearby payphone.
However, one man in the crowd couldn't stand idly by any longer. His fists clenched with righteous anger, he stepped forward and confronted the thugs.
"Y'all! What you're doing is against the law!" he bellowed, his voice ringing out through the otherwise quiet street.
The crowd, emboldened by this sudden display of courage, stopped in their tracks, sensing a showdown brewing between the vigilante and the thugs.
"Who do you think you are? Do you have any idea who you're messing with?" Daniel sneered, jabbing a finger at his own chest.
"I don't care who you are," the man retorted, indignation lacing his words. "All I know is that what you and your friends are doing is wrong!"
Daniel couldn't help but chuckle. "Oh, look, we've got a hero here. Do you honestly think you can take on all of us by yourself?" He gestured to his lackeys, who smirked menacingly.
The man's response was a simple smile. "Do you think you're the only ones with friends?"
As if on cue, several well-dressed men in suits and hats emerged from the shadows, flanking the courageous stranger. The tide had turned, and it was now the thugs' turn to feel outnumbered.
A police siren wailed in the distance, and panic etched its way onto Daniel's face. "Damn it! We're outta here!" he cursed, signaling for his cohorts to retreat. They abandoned their terrified victim and fled the scene, leaving behind their intended target unscathed.
The crowd erupted into applause, cheering for the brave men who had stepped up to the American Mexican thugs.
The woman, shaking but grateful, approached the man who had saved her. "Thank you so much for stepping in to help me. May I know your name?"
The man flashed her a charming grin. "I'm Henry River. It's my pleasure, ma'am. Just doing my civic duty."
She nodded, "Thank you, Mr. River," she said, then turned to the other well-dressed men who had come to her aid. "And thank you all as well."
Henry cleared his throat, addressing the now-growing crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen, we are from an organization called Raven Corps. We patrol the streets to keep an eye out for these unlawful types. If you ever find yourself in need of our assistance, don't hesitate to contact us at this number." He held up a business card with a telephone number.
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. "Raven Corps? I've never heard of them before," one onlooker mused.
"They're doing this for free? Wow, they must be real stand-up Joes," another added, admiration in his voice.
The crowd dispersed, buzzing with the news of the mysterious new group in town, while the woman, still shaken but grateful, went on her way, clutching the business card tightly in her hand.
After a brief delay, the patrol police finally arrived on the scene, only to find that the assailants had already fled. The bystanders recounted the story of the heroic intervention by the men from Raven Corps, a private security company.
"Private citizens thinking they're cops, huh?" one officer scoffed, but there was a hint of relief in his voice. "Well, at least they're making our jobs a bit easier."
His partner nodded in agreement. "You got that right."
What these officers didn't know was that Raven Corps was nothing more than a front for Lorenzo's gang. He had founded the security company as a way to justify his men's presence on the streets and their vigilante-like actions. Their plan was simple: appear as saviors to gain the trust of the people, then gradually take control of the neighborhood's underworld.
Lorenzo's ultimate goal was to become the sole authority in Boyle Heights, so much so that the locals would put their trust in Raven Corps before even considering the police.
---
A few days later, Leroy Tate managed to gather some incriminating evidence against Floyd Rose. He secretly met with Lorenzo in his two-story apartment, where he presented the damning photos, documents, and handwritten notes.
Lorenzo's eyes glinted with satisfaction as he sifted through the files. "You've done well, Officer Tate," he praised, his voice dripping with false sincerity.
Leroy's shoulders relaxed, but only for a moment. "Um, is this enough?" he asked, unable to hide his nervousness.
Lorenzo feigned thoughtfulness before responding, "It's a good start, but I'd like you to dig up more on Floyd Rose."
Leroy's smile faltered, but he knew better than to argue. "I-I understand," he stammered.
Lorenzo's smile widened. He already had more than enough dirt on Floyd Rose, thanks to Leroy's efforts and his own men's findings. The next step was to contact the corrupt cop and initiate the blackmail phase of his plan.
Once he successfully blackmailed Floyd Rose, Lorenzo knew there was more to be done. He suspected the corrupt cop was just a pawn in a larger game, and he wanted to know who was pulling the strings. After all, it wouldn't do any good to cut off one snake's head if another was waiting to take its place.
Lorenzo patted Leroy Tate on the shoulder as they parted ways, a cold smile playing on his lips.
With his plan to blackmail Floyd Rose in motion, Lorenzo turned his attention back to his original goal: taking over the Boyle Heights neighborhood. Now that he had leverage over the homicide detective, he felt more confident than ever about moving against the other gangs in the area.
Although it was true that some of the Boyle Heights gangs had connections to the infamous 38th Street Gang, a notorious faction of the American Mexican Mafia based in South Los Angeles, Lorenzo didn't lose sleep over it. The distance between their respective territories was comforting; his operation was in the East, while the powerful American Mexican Mafia held sway in the South.
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