The Wolf of Los Angeles-Chapter 461: I Can’t Breathe

[Chapter 461: I Can't Breathe]

The patrol car roared away at full speed, taking the turn sharply, but the black man had vanished without a trace.

Williams, now gripping the driver's wheel, slammed his palm on the steering wheel, honking the horn loudly. The vehicles ahead quickly pulled to the side, wary of a possible PIT maneuver.

The patrol car sped right through.

"Damn black guy," Williams cursed, "next time I catch him, I'm emptying the clip!"

Eddie, sitting beside Williams and knowing his long list of past offenses, tried to calm him down: "No need for that. Just some black dude -- don't take it personally. Black guys are all just mouthy, worthless punks."

Williams' pants were still damp, a constant reminder of the man's recent misconduct.

If it had been a white guy, an apology would have settled it, but it was a black man.

"Didn't you hear him?" Williams muttered through clenched teeth. "That black guy called us white trash!"

Eddie fell silent, only hoping that man wouldn't cross Williams' path again, or else trouble would surely follow.

An SFPD officer wanting to check a black man and frame him was child's play.

Unable to find the missing man, Williams drove on in a fury.

...

A plain Volkswagen sedan overtook them from the side.

Lareya steadied the speed, glanced in the rearview mirror, and said, "Target's hot-headed."

"Good." Hierro pulled out his phone and dialed 911. When connected, he spoke in a practiced Texas accent: "I'm on 11th Street, Atherton neighborhood. There is a black man stealing a car -- a vintage black Ford Explorer, plate number... Could you describe the thief? Okay, he's a black male -- or maybe not a male. Bald with a beard, big beard, and wearing tight pink women's clothes. This guy's unique -- you'd recognize him anywhere."

Lareya thought to himself, with that getup he'd be easy to spot. No way SFPD would mistake him.

Hierro hung up and tore the SIM card into pieces.

When the Volkswagen stopped, he tossed parts of the shredded SIM into the storm drain and the other bits into a trash can.

As for the phone, it would be destroyed back at their place.

...

Sirens wailed from behind, and the same SFPD patrol car raced by.

Hierro got back in his vehicle, tailing the patrol car. He pulled out a prepped camera, quickly powered it on, and adjusted the lens.

...

Williams turned onto 11th Street in the patrol car, with another car trailing on the opposite side.

Juan had already been waiting near where the black Ford Explorer was parked.

...

At the nearby 24-hour convenience store, Philip heard the siren. Clutching paper bags filled with near-expiry bread and food, he stepped outside.

Wiggling his hips, he approached the black Ford SUV, opened the passenger door, and placed the bags on the seat.

The siren grew louder behind him. Philip climbed onto the curb to be more visible and looked toward the approaching sound.

There weren't many people on the street, and his black skin combined with the tight pink dress made him stand out.

...

From a distance, Williams inside the patrol car spotted the black SUV and the black man in the pink dress standing next to it.

Eddie saw him too, chuckling despite himself at the sight: "Not just a black guy, but a weirdo."

Williams parked, opened the door, and before stepping out said, "My camera's dead. Yours is malfunctioning."

Eddie reached to activate his shoulder cam but hesitated, warning, "Don't push it."

SFPD had only recently equipped officers with body cams. Though they were supposed to be turned on during duty for officer protection, it wasn't yet strictly enforced.

Williams studied the black man carefully. The tight pink dress hugged big curves and long legs. His face was dark, bald with a beard.

"Ugh--"

Williams nearly spit out his coffee. The man already disgusted him, but this outfit made it a hundred times worse.

More than disgust, Williams felt pure rage.

All this black trash gone bad deserved to be wiped out.

...

Williams strode toward the Ford SUV, wet pant leg reminding him of the man's earlier filth.

Eddie followed from behind.

With one hand on his holster and the other pointing at Philip, Williams barked, "SFPD routine check. Let me see your hands!"

Philip turned and spread his hands. "Officer, I'm just buying stuff, not doing anything illegal."

Williams ignored him and shouted, "Get down, hands on your head, now!"

Philip understood the stakes. He folded his hands over his head but didn't kneel, trying to explain, "I haven't done anything wrong. I'm unarmed and a good guy."

He knew from experience that disobeying white cops could mean getting shot.

But Philip wanted to provoke this white trash.

With his sister and mother in Japan, he had no worries back home.

And one secret: due to years of risky behavior and the chaos in his community, Philip had contracted HIV. frёewebnoѵel.ƈo๓

To the poor, that was a death sentence.

...

Eddie came up behind and placed a hand on the rear of the SUV. "We had a tip-off that you were stealing this vehicle."

"It's my car," Philip tried to argue.

Williams kicked near his knee sharply and growled, "Get down, weirdo!"

Philip struggled, but Williams drew a baton and struck his shoulder.

Philip collapsed to the ground, trying to get up.

Williams rammed his knee into his back, pinning him down. "Stay down, you pervert! Neither man nor woman! You disgust me!"

Seizing the opportunity, Eddie twisted Philip's hands behind his back and cuffed him.

Philip fought back, desperate. "I've done nothing illegal. This is my newly bought used car. You can't treat me like this..."

"Shut up, you freak! You nasty weirdo! Close your filthy mouth!" Williams snapped.

Hearing the man's struggles and curses fueled his fury. He pressed down harder, his knee crushing Philip's neck.

For a moment, Philip could say nothing. The world fell silent.

...

Williams knelt on Philip's neck with one hand on his forehead, pinning him fully, then told Eddie, "Go check if this weirdo stole the car."

Eddie approached the SUV to inspect it.

Williams intensified the pressure to vent his rage.

Philip squirmed, gasping out, "I can't breathe! I can't breathe!"

But to Williams, these black guys were all slick trash; he disregarded the cries.

Turning his head, Philip forced his face and crushed chest right in front of the hidden camera beneath the trash can. He screamed again, "I can't breathe!"

Juan had prepared five contingencies in their plan: the first was shooting, second was now unfolding.

Williams' fury escalated. The white supremacist SFPD officer punched Philip hard at the back of the head.

With no bodycam recording on, Williams acted without restraint. "Freak! Trash! Weirdo! Nigger! Tranny..."

Philip's face was ground against the street, voice fading: "I can't breathe, I can't..."

Williams' ironclad knee pressed down even harder.

With no one around, he was unafraid.

Philip had reached his limit, whispering just for Williams to hear: "White trash!"

"Damn weirdo! You deserve to die!" Williams, enraged, shifted all his weight onto Philip's neck.

Eddie heard the noise, exited the car, grabbed Williams' arm, and said, "Get off him!"

Williams didn't budge.

Not even in this era -- or decades later when camera phones were everywhere -- would some white cops dare such acts openly.

In their eyes, people of color's lives meant nothing.

Similarly, in Hawke's plan to fracture American society completely, white and black trash lives meant nothing.

Eddie tried harder and finally pulled Williams upright.

Philip convulsed on the ground.

Eddie felt a surge of panic, rushing to check on the man.

Philip was twitching uncontrollably and barely breathing.

Eddie feared the worst -- it would be a huge problem if he died.

He shouted at Williams, "He's not breathing!"

Williams didn't care. "He's faking it."

Eddie flipped Philip over and started CPR, calling repeatedly for backup.

Williams lit a cigarette, calm and indifferent.

Eddie gave him a cold look, stopped the CPR, and went to the patrol car to call emergency support via radio.

His gut told him Philip was likely gone.

Williams was pleased, having vented his rage.

Eddie was sober, knowing this was going to be trouble.

They found no illegal items in Philip's car; the registration and license matched him.

'What should I do?' Eddie thought.

...

Though officers spend more time with their partners than family, Eddie didn't want to lose his job and told the whole story. He even tried to soften Williams' case a bit, saying the man resisted and didn't comply.

Williams' story wasn't believed by many in the department. He had a long record of hostility toward black people.

But internal protection of officers was inevitable -- it affected morale.

SFPD higher-ups decided to keep things quiet and watch the media reaction.

If any videos surfaced, they'd be exposed immediately or used for leverage.

If not, problem solved.

---

While SFPD discussed, the internet was already flooded with images and texts:

"Black man dies suddenly during police handling by two white officers on 11th Street, Atherton District, San Francisco."

"Death during routine check; racial bias and police violence under suspicion."

...

At the Bay Area villa, Campos saw people arrive and stopped checking the news, asking everyone to sit.

"Everything cleaned up?" he asked.

Betty responded, "All taken care of."

Hierro added, "Phone smashed and dumped into the ocean."

They'd done such operations before -- experienced pros.

Campos instructed, "Transfer all footage to the laptop, make copies. Hierro will send as encrypted files to Los Angeles."

Everyone busied themselves copying and verifying, handing one copy to Hierro for secure transmission to the Coast Building in LA.

The video angles were clear, especially from the trash can camera recording the conversation between Williams and Philip.

Hierro sent the video immediately.

...

Los Angeles, Coast Building.

Hawke received the San Francisco video and called Edward, Caroline, and Sasha for a meeting.

After watching, Caroline said, "They're finished."

Sasha asked, "When do we release it?"

"Not yet," Hawke planned. "Post some unrelated content on Twitter first. We'll wait for the SFPD's official investigation notice before revealing the truth."

*****

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