Chương 82: Grand Plan
The gang was all gussied up, their mugs impressed by the swanky mansion. Deborah and Lorenzo, a couple of lovebirds, were eyeballing a room that could be his new office. Deborah, a real looker, watched as Lorenzo plopped himself down in the chair like he owned the place.
"What do you think, babe? I look more respectable, don't I?" he said, smoothing out his suit.
Deborah chuckled, "You'd look even more the part if you'd leave your lawless life behind."
Lorenzo grinned, "Not a chance, Deb." They bantered back and forth, but it was clear they cared for each other.
Finally, Deborah left him alone in the office, leaving him to his thoughts.
Lorenzo's mind raced like a racehorse at the track. He'd managed to amass quite the collection of incriminating evidence against the mayor: not only did he have the goods on that shady project siphoning millions from the government, but he also had proof of the mayor's hand in rigged construction contracts and ghost employees on the city payroll.
Lorenzo's grin grew wider than the Los Angeles River. With this kind of ammunition, he'd have the mayor in his pocket, dancing to his tune.
***
Mayor Fletcher Bowron slammed his fist on the desk, rattling the glasses on the shelf behind him. "You still have no clues about who robbed my home?" he bellowed at his cowering secretary, Ronald.
"I apologize, Mayor," Ronald stuttered, bowing his head. "I've questioned the maids, but they claim they saw nothing out of the ordinary. However, the guards on duty that night were found unconscious. Some of them mentioned encountering men posing as guards, but... but they can't seem to remember their faces."
"Incompetent imbeciles!" Fletcher roared, sending the documents on his desk flying in every direction. "How in blazes could my own home be robbed, my safe unlocked, and my most important documents stolen?!"
Ronald's Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed hard. "We... we have no leads, sir."
The mayor's face turned tomato red, veins bulging on his neck. "Well, you'd better find something, or I'll have your badge, understand?"
Ronald gulped, straightening his posture. "Y-yes, sir. I'll double the efforts, I assure you."
Mayor Fletcher Bowron sprang to his feet, his face mere inches from Ronald's. His grip tightened around the man's collar. "Do you have any inkling of what will happen if those documents and letters fall into the wrong hands? I'll be ruined, and I'll make sure you go down with me!"
Terror etched itself into Ronald's ashen face. "I'm so sorry, Mayor!"
"I-I'll interrogate the guards again—" Ronald started to say, but the shrill ringing of the telephone cut him off.
"Damn it all," Fletcher cursed, releasing his grip on Ronald. "Wait here. I'll answer the call, and it better be important."
Ronald nodded, wiping the sweat from his brow as he sank back into his chair.
Fletcher stalked over to the phone, clearing his throat before picking up the receiver. "This is Mayor Bowron. Who's calling?"
The voice on the other end of the line was deep, ominous as a thunderstorm. "I'd wager you're having a rough day, Mayor Bowron."
Fletcher's frown deepened. "Who is this? What are you talking about?"
"No need for games, Mayor," the voice chuckled. "I know all about the uninvited guests in your home, and how they relieved you of some... incriminating documents."
Fletcher's eyes widened, and he slammed his fist against the desk. "Who is this? You're the one who robbed me, aren't you?"
"Calm down, Mayor," the voice purred. "It's not becoming of a man in your position to lose his temper."
"Why did you do it? I know it wasn't just a robbery. You wanted... my..." Fletcher couldn't bring himself to say it out loud.
"Very astute, Mayor. I simply wanted to borrow those little mementos you've been keeping hidden away. Insurance, if you will."
Fletcher gritted his teeth. "What do you want?"
"I'd like you to meet me at The Blue Moon Lounge in downtown Los Angeles," the voice said, as cool as a glass of lemonade on a sweltering day. "And do be a good sport, Mayor. Don't bring any company, or I'll know. And I assure you, your little secret will be front-page news tomorrow morning."
The line went dead, leaving Fletcher staring at the receiver in disbelief. His heart pounded in his chest like a drummer on parade. He knew he was cornered, and there was no way out.
With a sigh, he replaced the receiver and turned to Ronald, who was still waiting with bated breath. "Cancel my appointments for the rest of the day. I have... personal matters to attend to."
Ronald's eyebrows shot up, but he didn't dare question his boss. "Yes, sir. Anything else?"
Fletcher straightened his tie and donned his fedora. "No, that'll be all. Just make sure those guards don't remember a thing, understand?"
"Y-yes, sir."
With that, Mayor Fletcher Bowron left his office, a storm brewing in his eyes as he contemplated the meeting ahead.
---
In downtown Los Angeles, a figure in a straw hat and sunglasses hung up the payphone, taking extra precautions not to be traced. He was cautious by nature, and rightfully so. He couldn't afford any slip-ups now.
Lorenzo returned to his hotel room, where he donned a luxurious tuxedo, adjusting the lapels in the mirror. The final touches were a golden mask adorned with intricate designs, a fedora, and a golden-tipped cane. The disguise complete, he looked every bit the mysterious mobster he was.
He didn't plan on revealing his identity to the mayor just yet; he wanted to play him like a violin, and it would be all the more satisfying when the man realized who had been pulling his strings all along.
As far as he knew, only a few corrupt patrol officers and homicide detectives knew his face, and even they wouldn't talk. Not if they valued their lives. Besides, once he had the mayor in his pocket, he'd have the resources to eliminate those loose ends, including Errol Schroeder.
Lorenzo mulled over the idea of eliminating the corrupt cops for good, ensuring his identity remained hidden. After all, he couldn't afford any slip-ups, not with the FBI breathing down his neck.
His plan was to manipulate the city's power players from the shadows, never revealing his true face.
He'd already started by establishing two identities: the mob boss of the newly renamed "Wolf Familia" and the legitimate businessman, Lorenzo Lupo, who owned a businesses that included Raven Corps, a private security firm, and a budding film studio.
Raven Corps served as a front for his gang's operations, and the new recruits from other gangs had no idea they'd joined the Lupo... pardon, the Wolf Familia. They believed they were just working for a well-paying security company that pressured them to join or face prison. It was only when they proved themselves competent and loyal that they would be introduced to the inner workings of the organization, becoming full-fledged members of the lowest rank: the Ravens.
As for Adam, Max, Richard, and the other high-ranking members of his family, Lorenzo wanted them to maintain their anonymity as well. He'd already had them choose from a selection of unique masks, each one tailored to their personality and rank within the organization.
Lorenzo's mind raced with his grand plans for Los Angeles. Adam, Max, Richard and the few others would be more than capable of handling the day-to-day operations of the Wolf Familia, while he focused on his legitimate businesses. On paper, they'd be his trusted advisors, but in reality, they'd be the backbone of his criminal gang.
He chuckled to himself, shaking his head as he continued towards The Blue Moon Lounge. His first order of business was to secure Mayor Bowron's cooperation. After that, the sky was the limit.
His plans included acquiring choice real estate in Beverly Hills while it was still in its infancy, and expanding his reach into gambling dens, brothels, and even a casino that would be run by his organization. But for now, he needed to focus on the task at hand: blackmailing the mayor and solidifying his hold on the city.
With a final adjustment of his golden mask, Lorenzo stepped out of the hotel room, ready to play a deadly game of cat and mouse with the unsuspecting Mayor Fletcher Bowron.
***
In downtown Los Angeles, Mayor Fletcher Bowron's sleek car pulled up to the front of The Blue Moon Lounge. Curious onlookers stopped to stare as the mayor emerged from the vehicle, his face a mask of practiced geniality. He waved and tipped his hat to the gathered crowd before disappearing inside the dimly lit establishment.
He took a seat at a booth in the back, away from prying eyes, and ordered a drink from the waiter. As he waited for his mysterious contact to arrive, he couldn't help but check his watch every few seconds.
It wasn't long before a tall, well-dressed figure in a luxurious tuxedo, complete with a golden mask adorned with intricate designs, a fedora, and a cane, entered the lounge. The man's very presence demanded attention, and Fletcher knew instinctively that this was the person he'd been waiting for.
Without waiting for an invitation, the masked man slid into the booth across from Fletcher, his movements smooth and predatory. The mayor's heart pounded in his chest, but he forced himself to maintain his composure.
"Mayor Bowron," the masked man purred, his voice muffled by the golden mask. "So kind of you to join me."
Fletcher's eyes narrowed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, I see. You're just a big, brave man, hiding behind a mask."
The masked figure chuckled, as if he found the comment amusing. "Don't you dare mistake my style for cowardice, my friend."
In a flash, the masked man's demeanor shifted. His gloved hand moved with lightning speed, twisting the handle of his seemingly innocuous cane. To Fletcher's horror, the cane's end unscrewed, revealing a hidden barrel. He gasped, realizing too late that the object he'd dismissed as a walking stick was, in fact, a deadly weapon.
Lucas, the man behind the mask, couldn't help but smirk. He'd never thought that the unique cane he'd been rewarded by the system for completing a mission during the war would come in handy today.
With another flick of his wrist, the masked man returned the cane to its original form, leaving Fletcher breathless and shaken. "Now, do I have your attention?"
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