America Tycoon: The Wolf of Showbiz

Chapter 297: Chapter 294 They Killed My Dog

In the morning, Marcus got ready and came to the living room, where Daisy and John both came running over.

He poured dog food and water for the dogs and stroked their heads, saying, "Be good and watch the house, I'll be back before noon to have lunch with you."

The two Labradors circled around him once and then went to enjoy their breakfast.

Marcus closed the door and climbed into a pickup parked on the side before driving off to Sherman Oaks.

The day before, he had arranged with Chad to meet with Martin Davis that morning at the Angel's Club.

Marcus took this very seriously as it concerned his potential career transition into the long-cherished film industry.

If not as a real actor, doing stunts or working as a firearms instructor for action movies would do just as well.

Now that Marcus had left the military, he no longer wanted a job that was all about fighting and risking his life.

Knowing Chad and Martin also provided him an opportunity to break into Hollywood.

Upon arrival at Sherman Oscar, Marcus entered the Angel's Club and saw Martin, Chad, and Bruce right away. He hurried over and shook hands with each of them.

Cain joined in the fun and specially prepared a room for the meeting.

Martin had previously asked Bruce to look into the matter, which involved a U.S. Army operation codenamed "Red Wing."

With Chad's recount, he had a basic understanding of the events related to Marcus.

Chad whispered a few words to Marcus, who understood the importance of this meeting and described his experience in Afghanistan to Martin in detail once again.

The firsthand account was more vivid. Martin could now be certain that Marcus's experience bore a striking resemblance to a film he had seen.

It seemed to star Mark Wahlberg.

As for the rest of the cast, he had no specific recollection.

After listening to Marcus's account, Martin looked thoroughly impressed and said, "I can't imagine the impact your experiences in Afghanistan had on you because I've never been there, but based on the events you described, buddy, you are a legend!"

Marcus smiled, "The real legends and heroes should be my three teammates."

Building on Marcus's words, Martin went on to say, "Personally, I think their deeds should be widely known. It's imperative that the public and the entire United States understand what they did for this country and what they sacrificed."

Martin's words struck a chord with Marcus, who was quite moved, "Martin, do you think this matter could be adapted into a movie or a TV show? A documentary would work too! They gave their lives for the country; they shouldn't be forgotten."

Things easily given are not valued, a fact Martin was well aware of.

He didn't respond immediately but fell into deep thought, as if it was a challenging decision.

Marcus added, "I can give you the rights..."

Martin raised his hand to interrupt Marcus, "Just wait a moment."

Marcus fell silent.

Martin stood up and paced back and forth in the meeting room, seemingly weighing a significant decision.

Chad, who had connections with Marcus and sympathized with his predicament, knew he was part of Martin's team and didn't speak out on behalf of Marcus.

Only Bruce, who knew Martin well, could tell that Martin had made up his mind.

Marcus was a bit nervous. He had no connections in Hollywood apart from knowing Martin and Chad.

After a while, Martin sat back down and said, "Marcus, you and Chad are friends, and Chad is my brother, so there are some things I have to say upfront."

Marcus nodded, "Go ahead."

Martin roughly stated, "Running a film project is a very complicated task, whether it's a true-life event or an adaptation of another work. It requires a process and cooperation from all participants."

He then focused on the matter at hand, "The operation Red Arrow you mentioned is not widely known in North America. After years of the war on terror, the public's interest in Afghanistan is not very high. I can get investments and attention from other film companies because the projects I initiate can be profitable..."

Marcus understood, "I can give you the rights for free."

"No, that's not what I mean," Martin never considered free rights, as free is the most expensive, "Here's what I'm thinking: let's not rush into film adaptation. I'll find a writer or a ghostwriter to help you put together a memoir, then release it into the book market to let more people know about your deeds.

Don't worry about the film adaptation; as long as we can come to an agreement, my studio will buy the film and television rights to your memoir in advance."

At this point, Chad spoke up, "This is indeed a more prudent approach. Many CIA or FBI special personnel publish memoirs after retirement. Once the memoir gains some influence, it's adapted into a film."

He even gave an example, "The film 'Catch Me If You Can,' starring Leonardo and Spielberg, is a classic case."

Marcus was familiar with that film and said, "That works." He emphasized once more, "You don't have to pay me; I just want my teammates..."

People's minds change, and Martin didn't want early-stage expenses to cause trouble later, saying, "We are friends, and as friends, friendship is one thing, business cooperation is another."

Marcus replied, "I'll follow your lead."

Martin asked, "Do you have any relevant materials on Afghanistan? It would help me find a suitable ghostwriter."

"I have quite a lot at home." Marcus looked at Martin and then at Chad. Having spent many years in the military, he knew how the world worked. Taking the initiative, he invited, "There's a great restaurant near my place. How about you come with me to get the materials? It would also give me a chance to treat you as a token of my gratitude."

Martin had been free these past couple of days and accepted the invitation, "That would be imposing."

They chatted a bit more, left the club together, and headed to Santa Monica.

......

In South Santa Monica, four black men, driving a stolen car, parked on the side of the road.

"The house with the red tile roof, Edmund, right?" Bald Alfonso asked, "Is this target appropriate?"

Edmund extended his tattooed arm and pointed, "Boss, I definitely won't make a mistake, Axe can vouch for that!"

Axe, not very tall, with a Magnum revolver holstered at his waist, said, "That guy just moved in from out of town, not a Los Angeles local. Edmund and I saw with our own eyes that he brought many boxes, which seemed to contain valuable items."

Alfonso asked again, "Are you certain about the items in the box?"

"Can't be certain," Axe replied. "According to the movers, all the boxes had combination locks. Who the hell uses locks for regular stuff!"

Alfonso nodded, "Alright, let's hit it!"

Diaz, who had been silent up until now, spoke up, "Boss, all the houses here have back doors. I suggest we go through the back."

Alfonso started up the car and drove past the target house. While doing so, he casually asked, "Does he have any dogs at home?"

Edmund jumped in, "Not during the move. I can be sure of that."

Reassured, Alfonso drove around to the back door of the target detached house.

He didn't turn off the engine or get out of the car, but simply waved his hand in that direction: "Hurry up, I'll cover you guys from the car."

Diaz was the first one out, followed by Axe and Edmund. They scaled the hedge that served as a fence, and with little trouble, Edmund picked the lock on the back door and led the way into the house.

Axe and Diaz followed, but they had only taken a few steps forward when the sound of barking suddenly erupted.

The former drew his Magnum revolver instantly.

Two Labradors ran out of the living room, barking madly at Edmund and the others.

The male dog, John, more aggressive, lunged at Edmund.

Seeing such a big dog pounce, Axe and Diaz simultaneously raised their revolvers.

Bang, bang, bang—gunshots rang out!

John took a bullet to the head, howled miserably, and collapsed at Edmund's feet.

A bullet hit Daisy in the neck, and the bitch yelped in agony before turning tail to run.

She didn't get far before collapsing with a thud.

"Hurry up!"

The three of them were bold. After firing their guns, they didn't immediately run but instead entered the living room to look for the boxes mentioned by the movers. "Find the valuables! Be quick about it!"

No sooner had Diaz shouted these words than the sound of a high-powered pickup truck came from the front courtyard—it seemed someone had returned, and not just in one vehicle!

One person, they weren't bothered.

But several people—it was wiser to leave first.

Edmund, faster than anyone, ran easily, "They're back, let's go! Quickly!"

The three men didn't bother with anything else and ran back towards the rear door.

They burst out of the door, jumped into the car, and urged Alfonso, "Boss, drive!"

At the front, five men arriving in two vehicles had just neared the house Marcus was renting when they heard the gunshots.

The experienced Bruce immediately identified, "The sound of a Magnum revolver!"

The lead pickup screeched to a halt, and Marcus, Cain, and Chad jumped out, each armed with an M9, and rushed into the yard.

Bruce also drew his gun, getting out of the car with no rush.

Martin followed carefully behind, gripping a Glock tightly in his hand.

Marcus, at the front, shouted, "Daisy, John!"

No response.

He opened the door, darted in, and found the house empty but for the pungent smell of blood.

"Daisy!" Marcus's roar, laced with immense pain, carried outside.

Cain, Chad, and Bruce followed him in, while Martin remained at the back.

In the living room, the Labrador named Daisy lay in a pool of blood, unresponsive.

Heartbroken, Marcus closed Daisy's eyes and then ran to the back door, where he found the body of the other Labrador, John.

The dog's head had been blown open.

"Ah! Ahh—"

Marcus roared skyward, releasing his inner anguish.

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Chad also had a dog and roughly understood this feeling, he muttered lowly, "Damn it!"

Marcus gently touched the wound on John's head, closed his eyes for him, and stood up.

Martin suggested, "Let's call the police."

Marcus nodded and said to Cain, "Call the cops for me."

Turning around, he headed to the kitchen, entered the storage room, where there was a table connected to the front and back door surveillance.

Marcus pulled up the footage and backed it up for a while. He then took out a box, snapped open the combination lock, removed a tactical vest and put it on. Taking two M9s and magazines, he slid them into his vest.

"Buddy, calm down!" Martin said, trying to soothe him.

Marcus replied, "They killed my dogs!"