The Wolf of Los Angeles.

Under the pitch-black night sky, a BMW sped through the streets of Washington, D.C., and turned into the embassy district.

Sullivan dialed Hillary's number again.

The phone rang for a long time before someone finally answered.

"What happened?" The moment Seraphim picked up her phone, she was fully awake.

Sullivan quickly replied, "Something's happened in Los Angeles. I'll be at your house right away. We'll talk when I get there."

"I'll have someone open the door for you," Sirali said.

Less than ten minutes later, Sullivan's car arrived at Hillary and Richardson's home in the embassy district. He briefly showed his face to the security guards at the entrance before driving straight in.

He parked his car in front of the door, got out, and ran straight into the house.

Seraphim had just finished washing up and was coming downstairs.

Laugh Tale was having fun with Epstein in New York State and didn't actually live there.

Instead, Abedin, who is referred to as Sylvia's goddaughter, is here with her.

Abedin had already made coffee for the two of them to help them stay awake.

Before Sullivan even sat down, he said to Abedin, "Bring me the laptop."

Abedin put down his coffee, quickly grabbed his laptop, turned it on, and placed it in front of Sullivan.

Sullivan switched to Google and searched for the keywords "FBI" and "Puff Daddy," which brought up a bunch of news articles that had just been published in the last few hours.

Sila put on her glasses and looked at the screen; the news headlines made her heart skip a beat.

"Exclusive news! FBI raids Puff Daddy's mansion, seizes numerous contraband items!"

"Our reporter has confirmed with the Los Angeles Federal Prosecutor's Office that Boasting is suspected of serious crimes and has been subpoenaed by the FBI."

Sullivan quickly said, "I contacted people in Los Angeles, and I contacted Fiona from the parade. They sent people to the scene to confirm that Boast's mansion in Hopper Hill has been sealed off by the FBI, and a large number of agents are searching inside."

Abedin was getting anxious and wanted to speak.

Sila took off her glasses, raised her hand to stop her, and said, "Don't rush, things aren't that bad. Being too hasty will only make you make mistakes."

Abedin suppressed what he wanted to say and sat down to one side.

"I remember the head of the FBI in Los Angeles is Jennifer, Brian Ferguson's wife. What reason did she have to suddenly target Sean?"

Sullivan took out his phone and looked at it: "Our people are still gathering information, so we don't know for sure yet."

Sila thought for a moment and said, "This matter will inevitably affect Bill and me; it's unavoidable."

The situation was unusual. Sullivan asked tactfully, "What about Sean?"

“It’s okay, I’m not that stupid.” As the leader of the entire team and one of the main forces in today’s election, Hillary had to remain calm at this moment: “Bill and I didn’t leave any evidence over there. Even some photos and videos can be seen in the open. At most, they will only affect my reputation a little.”

Sullivan felt slightly relieved and said, "The fierce war has begun."

"We need to figure out where the war came from first," Sillaly said.

Sullivan refreshed the webpage and found that there were even more websites reporting on it. Some of these websites featured photos of the Hillarys with the braggarts, especially those of them attending braggart parties.

There are even several videos.

The accompanying pictures and text all link Hillary Clinton with bragging, claiming that the Clintons are regulars at bragging parties and that bragging is a front for the Clintons to manipulate Hollywood stars, etc.

Sylvie put her glasses back on and looked at the screen carefully: "As expected, it's all aimed at me."

Yahoo News featured a front-page headline with a photo of her and Bragging at a party, surrounded by a large group of men and women in the background.

After carefully reviewing the websites that had recently broken the news, Sullivan said, "Many of them are media outlets that support Tom Emmer. Our opponents have made their move."

His phone beeped with a text message notification. He took it out, glanced at it, and said directly, "Our people found out from the Los Angeles U.S. Attorney's Office that the source of this incident is Britney."

Sillali was quite surprised: "That brainless female singer?"

Sullivan said, "That's right, it's her. Puff drugged Britney after the MTV Awards last year for his friend Lou Pucci, and that's how those things happened. But Britney isn't the type to think like everyone else. Afterwards, Lou Pucci proposed to her, and she actually agreed to be his girlfriend. Puff didn't take it to heart and probably forgot about it over time."

He picked up his coffee, took a sip, and the bitter taste dispelled his sleepiness: "A few months ago, Britney and Lou Pucci had a falling out. Lou Pucci used the media to relentlessly expose Britney's dirty secrets. Britney probably couldn't take it anymore and brought up the old grievances."

Seraphim felt dizzy: "How could these idiots be so stupid!"

Abedin whispered, "Britney is an idiot."

Sylvia understood this would be a troublesome matter: "It happened in Los Angeles, Jennifer was the direct perpetrator, which inevitably involves the Hawke and Ferguson families, Tom Emery has jumped in, and Sean..."

She stopped looking at the computer, stood up, and walked around thinking. She quickly said, "Have someone find a way to inform Sean to keep his mouth shut."

Sullivan wrote it down.

Sillari's words were blunt and direct: "If he won't shut up, let him shut up forever."

“Yes.” Sullivan believed it was necessary.

Sila continued, "In Los Angeles, urge them to hurry up; I need results."

Abedin didn't understand what was going on, but Sullivan did.

Sillari then instructed Abedin, "In our investigation of bribery, is there anything that could directly attack our competitors?"

Abedin recalled for a moment and said, "Someone leaked information to us that Tom Emmanuel and Blair Emmanuel had been having affairs with the former Secret Service agents who had previously protected them, and that there had been multiple three-way relationships."

Hillary was very decisive: "Find that former agent and have him give an interview to the media. That's the key point. It would be best if we had evidence, but it doesn't matter if we don't."

Abedin replied, "Yes."

Sillali sneered, "We can use the same underhanded methods to attack as they can. It's just a matter of who's worse. As long as they're worse than us, we're still the winners!"

Sullivan and Abedin completely agreed.

In recent years, not only federal elections, but also gubernatorial elections in various states have basically been a competition of who is worse.

It doesn't matter if you have problems yourself, as long as your opponent is worse than you, you will most likely be the winner.

…………

Peterson Strategic Consulting, downtown Washington, D.C.

The sky was still dark, but the office building was still brightly lit.

Elizabeth Carter walked through the crowded office with her arms crossed, issuing instructions: "Contact Gerssons on Chicago Channel 11. There are three hours left. The news about Boasting needs to be on the 7 a.m. morning news, with a background photo of Boasting with the Hillarys at a party."

An assistant nearby replied, "We've made contact and are communicating." Another person nearby said, "Director, the Salt Lake Tribune has replied. They've changed the layout and put the bragging incident on the second page as the headline."

Elizabeth nodded: "They'll put it on the front page tomorrow."

She continued, "Who else has been contacted?"

The person in front raised their hand and said, "Tom Emerson is scheduled to give an interview at 2 p.m., which should be related to last night's events."

The assistant then strode over and whispered, "Campaign manager Stephen sent a routine notification that they have mobilized 56 media outlets."

Elizabeth took the media list and quickly glanced at it: "The bullets are already in the guns."

"This morning Pacific Time, the FBI Los Angeles office will hold a press briefing on the case." After saying this, the female assistant pointed to the office next door: "Mr. Peterson has arrived."

"Guys, hang in there for a while, and this month's bonus will double." Elizabeth knew how to boost morale: "I'm treating this weekend. Send me any requests in my email."

The person who was drowsy instantly became alert.

Elizabeth left the conference room and went into the office next door.

Peterson stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, his hands resting on the alloy railing.

The sky outside was already bright.

Elizabeth asked, "You're here so early?"

Peterson said, "As you get older, it's easy to have trouble sleeping when something happens, especially when it concerns the company's future development."

He turned his head and noticed two dark circles under Elizabeth's pale face. He asked, "What are Tom Emer's chances of winning?"

Elizabeth said, "The outcome depends on California."

Peterson shares this view: "Both sides have the support of traditional forces, but society is changing, and the influence of emerging forces cannot be ignored."

Elizabeth had worked with Hawke several times and had great confidence in him, saying directly, "Our next plan should be based on the assumption that Tom Emer will win."

Peterson understood what she meant: she was betting everything on California.

He hesitated for a moment, then slowly nodded: "Go ahead and do it."

…………

In Arlington County, Stamp drove a Ford Strix to the parking lot in front of Iron Eagle Security Company.

He previously worked for the Secret Service, serving as Tom Emmer's security guard and driver. A few years ago, for some unspeakable reasons, he left the Secret Service and joined Iron Eagle Security, where he served as the deputy head of the training department.

The new job is relatively easy and pays well.

Stamp grabbed his bag, got off the bus, and someone next to him called out, "Hey, buddy, don't you recognize me?"

"What brings you here?" Stamp recognized him immediately; it was Galata, a former colleague from the Secret Service who had resigned a little later than him.

Galata, shaking his bald head, said, "Something came up. Let's find somewhere to talk for a bit?"

Stamp glanced at his watch: "Okay, half an hour at most."

Galata called him to go into a nearby coffee shop together, and they went straight up to the second floor.

As soon as they went upstairs, someone on the first floor brought out a sign and placed it at the entrance to the stairs—"Second floor under maintenance, temporarily closed."

There was no one else upstairs, so the two found a place to sit down. Stamp said, "We lost contact with you after you resigned. We all thought you had joined the CIA."

“No, I just worked as a bodyguard for a big shot.” ​​Galata skipped over his own affairs and steered the conversation toward Stamp: “You shouldn’t have left back then. Among our group of trainees, you were the most likely to be promoted to supervisor.”

Stamp didn't look too good.

Galata stopped beating around the bush: "I've heard people talk about you. Those seemingly glamorous big shots treat people like toys and tools."

Stamp recalled a memory he had been deliberately avoiding: a few years ago, when he worked as Tom Emmanuelle's security guard and driver, he was tricked into bed by Claire Emmanuelle.

That's all it takes, after all, even though Claire is a bit older, she still has a lot of charm.

But when he was dealing with Claire, Tom Emmer came along.

When there's a woman on your left and a man on your right, how should you choose?

Stamp had no choice but to bite the bullet and go for it.

Then, he unfortunately slipped off his shirt, was sent to the hospital, and had to resign from the Secret Service.

Stamp considered revenge, but at that time he had parents, a sister, and a wife, so he could only choose to endure it.

Galata looked at him and continued, "In recent years, your parents and sister have moved overseas, and your wife divorced you and took the children to Europe..."

Stamp suddenly looked up, staring intently at Galata: "Dude, what are you trying to do by investigating me?"

Galata noticed that his hand was on his waist, so he quickly raised his hand and said, "Brother, relax. I'm here to help you."

Stamp slowly removed his hand from the pistol hidden at his waist.

Galata continued, “I work for a big shot, and now she’s going after Tom Emo. If you’d like, you can join our team to expose what happened back then and get revenge.”

"The big shot you're talking about, is it Sila?" Stamp, as a former Secret Service agent, still had basic political awareness: "She's now vying with Tom Emer for the Oval Office."

Galata smiled: "Without such strong support, what you've said would never see the light of day, and there would be no media coverage of the humiliation and suffering you endured back then. Don't you want revenge?"

He pointed out a key point: "Over the past few years, you've been sending your family members away one after another, wasn't it all for revenge?"

Stamp said, "Will you provide me with support?"

Galata immediately assured him: "If you wish, you will be interviewed by media outlets such as The Washington Post and NBC within this week."

“Okay, sure.” Stamp had other conditions. He understood the consequences of getting involved in this kind of thing, and regardless of the outcome, it was best to leave North America: “I want $200 million, deposited into an account overseas.”

Galata replied, “No problem at all. We’ll pay you a deposit first, and then pay you the rest after the interview airs. You’re familiar with these things; you’ll likely be making frequent appearances before the vote in November…”

Stamp recalled the immense humiliation of being stitched up again and again by the proctologist, which fueled a vengeful urge: "You need to send someone to protect me."

“Sure,” Galata asked tentatively, “Do you have any solid evidence?”

Stamp shook his head: "No, how could they let me leave any evidence? I didn't dare leave any evidence for the safety of my family at that time."

He paused, thought for a moment, and then said, "I have kept the medical records from that time, as well as several transfer records, one of which is a compensation payment transferred to me by a charitable foundation under Claire's name."

Galata laughed: "Having these is good too; it'll embarrass those two bastards." (End of Chapter)