The Wolf of Los Angeles-Chapter 429: Hunter or Prey?

Hawke, with Erica and Pierce, entered the building together.

The Osment Foundation was the classic "good guy" charity, quietly donating money and supplies to help suffering African people without seeking fame or reward.

Ministers from multiple African Union countries, along with numerous United Nations personnel and dozens of media reporters, essentially didn't have to worry much about security.

The conference was split over two days: the first day involved meetings and signing agreements inside the venue; the second day consisted of on-site observations. At the suggestion of some African ministers, participants even engaged in tree-planting activities under secured conditions.

This event, initiated by the UN and African Union, included both opportunists like Hawke and genuinely committed individuals.

Though the United Nations had its share of controversy, it was still governed by the five major powers -- nations that clearly defined who could and could not have influence.

The world had no shortage of idealists, and within the UN and African Union were honest people trying to make a difference.

The Americans attending were seated together.

...

After handling the media frenzy, Leonardo found his seat beside Hawke and greeted him, "Hello, Hawke, we meet again."

Hawke shook his hand and observed, "You look quite different."

A few months prior, Leonardo had hosted a secret meeting for Hawke and Hillary on a yacht, joking, "I don't know what's going on; lately, I've been gaining weight just by drinking water."

Getting the old yacht moving with his tongue was a struggle; that lingering smell of old motor oil seeping into his mouth made him lose his appetite for days.

[T/N: This is about performing oral sex on Hillary.]

Recently, Leonardo had been indulging in pizza, burgers, and chocolate to gain weight, yet with filming and participating in environmental advocacy, the weight gain was still sluggish.

Hawke patted Leonardo's arm but didn't say much more.

Leonardo sighed deeply, feeling more and more trapped. Given his status, he couldn't refuse Hillary.

He was somewhat dejected, realizing that if nothing changed, he'd be Hillary's plaything for the next decade or more.

He instinctively glanced at Hawke -- another Hollywood superstar, Tom Cruise was pulled out of similar troubles by Hawke.

But Pat Kingsley, if even raises a few levels higher, might not compete with Hillary.

Also, Hawke Osment seemed to cooperate with Hillary...

The more Leonardo thought, the more hesitant he became to speak.

One wrong step could ruin not only his career but his entire life.

...

The conference proceeded smoothly, broadcasted live by media including Al Jazeera.

Leonardo even delivered a passionate environmental speech.

At the closing, representatives from all parties signed an agreement to green Africa.

The representative signing for the Osment Foundation was naturally Pierce Madden.

---

In Sudan, the civil war between north and south had been resolved last year, with a ceasefire line drawn roughly corresponding to the future borders of South Sudan's independence.

Starting in March, the United Nations deployed peacekeeping forces to Sudan to prevent humanitarian crises and ensure adherence to the ceasefire by both sides.

Near the Ethiopian border stood an infantry company of Pakistan peacekeepers.

As is generally known, peacekeeping troops mostly played symbolic roles; if fighting broke out, they usually remained silent, unwilling to risk their lives.

After all, foreign soldiers had no reason to give up their lives.

At nightfall near the Pakistan peacekeepers' camp, floodlights lit up the area.

Though located on the African savannah rich with wildlife, the area immediately around the camp was unusually quiet.

The Pakistani had been there over six months, and local animals seemed to avoid the area, as if fearing a terrible predator.

Not even the hyenas known for scavenging dared come near.

The engine of two Toyota pickups rumbled as they arrived at the camp gate. After a brief conversation with the sentry, a phone call was made, and they were allowed in.

Due to their UN peacekeeping mission, the head Pakistani officer was accompanied by a major.

The vehicles stopped before a military tent, where the major was already standing.

The two men got out and shook hands with the major before entering the camp.

The major handed them bottled water.

To the bald leader, he said, "Gurg, what's the urgent matter that you actually came here in person?"

"The matter we discussed last time," Gurg placed the water aside.

He didn't dare drink the bottled water delivered; those unused to it sometimes wouldn't survive.

In a place like Africa, it could be deadly.

Last time, bringing along an assistant in scorching heat, the assistant drank a bottle then grabbed another to go, soon transforming into a vomiting wreck, bedridden for days before being sent to Egypt for treatment.

The major shook his head, "Impossible. That would ruin my military career and Pakistan's international reputation. Our goals are clear."

Gurg knew that well. Regular armies had styles easy to identify by specialists.

Gurg pushed the bottled water aside, "You don't have to act. Just close your eyes and plug your ears. You won't see or hear a thing in the coming days."

Relations were complicated, filled with cooperation and betrayals.

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But overall, Pakistan had been taken advantage of more.

The major kept silent.

Gurg understood the critical point and gestured to his assistant.

The burly assistant placed a black briefcase on the table and opened it, releasing a distinct ink-like scent.

Under the light, stacks of U.S. dollar bills were revealed.

The major picked up one stack, slapped it in his hands, then flipped through them, then moved on to another stack.

He judged them genuine.

Gurg said nothing more, knowing nothing spoke louder than the contents of the case.

Of course, he wouldn't tell the major these were super bills.

The major snapped the latch shut, "Five days. You only have five days. That's a long time, but I'll try."

Gurg smiled, "Five days are enough."

Because this area was guarded by Pakistani peacekeepers, there were no armed groups from South Sudan or Ethiopian border patrols.

Gurg left the major a satellite phone for communication, then, with his assistant, exited the tent and got in a vehicle.

...

As they drove through the camp, a light suddenly flickered somewhere. Gurg noticed several African baboons in an iron cage struggling, their mouths crooked and noses misaligned, barely able to make sounds, seemingly suffering terrible torment.

The assistant almost spoke, but Gurg warned, "Don't say anything. Getting detained would be worse than those creatures."

The assistant dared not breathe.

The pickups left the camp, crushing dry grass beneath their tires, heading southwest.

Gurg's destination was a fiercely combative tribe near the South Sudan-Ethiopia border, inhabited by a group of hostile African people.

The north-south Sudan civil war wasn't just between two sides, but among numerous tribes.

Only 10% of South Sudan's population practiced Islam; the rest followed traditional tribal religions, totaling about 64 tribes.

Even in the 21st century, many tribes saw outsiders as less than human.

But Gurg avoided the most extreme tribes, fearing he'd be attacked before even meeting their chieftain.

After over two hours, the pickups entered a tribal settlement.

...

This was a relatively advanced African tribe, already equipped with firearms over ten years ago, possessing several armored pickups and many old troop transport trucks.

Among them were two armed Hummers.

A group of Africans blocked Gurg's path. Their leader, Mousad, was almost invisible in the dark.

He flipped his thick lips to show white teeth and asked, "Gurg?"

Gurg got out, "Guys, you really scared me."

He took out a brand-new Beretta handgun with its holster and handed it to Mousad.

Mousad smiled widely, teeth nearly showing, "Follow me."

Gurg gestured to his men to get out.

The assistant lugged another briefcase.

The hum of a generator came from nearby.

Most houses were dark, but the largest house in the center was brightly lit.

A middle-aged, sturdy black man wearing a red beret and armed belt stood in front.

From afar, Gurg opened his arms, "Amin, my old friend."

Amin embraced him and asked directly, "My friend Gurg, what brings you here this time?"

Gurg smiled, "I want to hire your best hunters to track down some troublesome prey."

*****

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