Chương 111: Chapter 111: Under Surveillance
[Chapter 112: Under Surveillance]
Early in the morning, Hawke came out of his bedroom, and Megan had already prepared breakfast. As usual, it was rich in protein.
Hawke sat at the dining table, enjoying his meal as he glanced at Megan's plate. "You're eating so light? Do you want a fried egg?"
"No need," Megan replied with a double entendre. "I've got plenty of protein already."
Hawke almost choked on his milk.
Megan added, "I've got something to tell you."
"Tell me," Hawke said as he wiped his mouth with a napkin.
Megan organized her thoughts a bit and said, "I've been following the Mule Gang incident involving Erica Ferguson and Dwayne Johnson. During the midday news slot, I managed to secure significant airtime, even surpassing viewership for the prime-time Ace News."
Hawke guessed her intentions. "Are you looking for prime time?"
Megan believed she understood Hawke well. Using the best tactics she could muster, she said, "Ace News has a much larger budget. You can get the explosive stories, and I can offer you a better price."
"I can help you with the news," Hawke responded. After all, selling to anyone was still selling, and Fox's offer was still better. He weighed his words carefully. "I won't get involved in your internal conflicts."
To him now, Fox was a colossal entity. The last tussle with the Dwarfs' Gang was still fresh in his memory.
Megan wanted to ask him for help against Gretchen but knew she couldn't control him. After a brief hesitation, she said, "Just don't sell the hot stories to Gretchen or to anyone else."
Hawke made his stance clear. "As long as the price is right, those have never been problems."
Megan had a lot she wanted to say but bit her tongue. They weren't a couple, let alone husband and wife, and Hawke wasn't obligated to help her.
After breakfast, they chatted a bit about the recent hot news before Hawke drove Megan to the Fox Television Center.
...
As Megan got out of the Mondeo and waited for the elevator, she ran into Gretchen.
Gretchen casually remarked, "I just saw you getting out of Hawke Osment's car."
Megan confidently replied, "You didn't see wrong. I slept with him last night."
Gretchen's follow-up was immediately cut short, and it was uncomfortably so. Among women, especially competitors, there could be no peaceful coexistence.
Once inside the elevator, Gretchen ridiculed, "Your ratings during this period are all due to the support of the man behind you."
"You're absolutely right," Megan boasted. "I'm prettier than you, in better shape than you, I'm more daring in bed, and my skill set is simply superior. So of course, Hawke's going to support me."
Gretchen scoffed, "Anyone can do what you're doing."
Megan deployed her killer move: "I'm 26, you're 33. No one likes old ladies."
At that, Gretchen nearly choked on her disgust.
The elevator dinged, and Megan exited first, moving into the section where Midnight Entertainment was located.
...
Gretchen made it to her office and gradually calmed down.
Recently, she had felt a real threat.
Gretchen pressed her intercom and called her assistant, Anna Cookman, who regularly helped her brainstorm.
"Everyone at Channel 11 knows that Megan the bitch is aiming to replace me," Gretchen stated straightforwardly. "If she pushes me out, the entire production team will be swapped out. Do you have any bright ideas?"
Anna understood her boss's worries. "The network prohibits malicious competition or revealing information between hosts. We can't directly target Megan Taylor."
Gretchen continued, "I had someone compile the stats -- over 70% of Megan Taylor's hot news in the past three months has come from Hawke Osment."
Anna comprehended the situation. "I'll figure out how to deal with him, but I'll have to do it in your name. I lack the persuasion; I can't guarantee anything."
Gretchen instructed, "Just find out how he's getting his news, and don't mess things up."
...
On his way back to East Hollywood, Hawke suddenly recalled that S.W.A.T. had already begun filming.
Set against the backdrop of Los Angeles, all exterior shots were being filmed in the city's neighborhoods.
Hawke decided to drive downtown.
The production team was stationed on Olvera Street.
Between the Mexican-style buildings, the occasional sound of gunfire echoed.
Hawke hadn't seen many Hollywood film shoots; he stood outside watching the spectacle.
A crowd of reporters and paparazzi gathered nearby.
Suddenly, someone called out to Hawke. "Hey, Hawke, are you here to cover the news?"
Hawke turned to see a long-haired man who looked familiar.
"It's me, Daniel! Don't remember?" Daniel Richard reminded him. "We met at the scene where Robert Downey Jr. got shot, and then we talked later during that fight between Britney and her dad."
Hawke's memory clicked, and he shook his hand. "I remember now."
After shaking hands, Daniel said, "Wait a minute, you're not here to film?" He scrutinized Hawke. "The suit looks tailored, and your watch... Rolex? Your outfit must total several grand."
Daniel recalled their first meeting months prior when they both roamed around as freelance reporters with their cameras.
He was amazed. "Man, you've struck it rich?"
Hawke laughed but didn't reply.
Daniel looked down at himself. "Got some connections? Bring me along."
Just then, Dany Garcia walked over from the production. She spoke with a crew member in a vest and waved to Hawke.
Hawke prepared to approach her.
Daniel quickly said, "Take me inside with you."
"Sorry," Hawke replied politely. "That's not my call."
Daniel watched Hawke enter the production area, envy written all over his face. How many exclusives could he get if he got in there?
...
Hawke followed Dany Garcia to the actor's lounge. The crew was filming, and the two couldn't talk, so they just observed.
Johnson was the lead actor, and since there were many action sequences, he only took a break as noon approached.
When he saw Hawke, he broke into a wide smile. "I don't know why, but this leading role is just freakin' awesome!"
Hawke understood that feeling. "Because we worked hard to get it."
Johnson thought for a moment, and it indeed rang true. "We only cherish what we obtain with difficulty."
Hawke asked, "I hope you haven't run into any trouble."
Johnson pointed to three burly guys nearby. "I hired professional bodyguards."
Suddenly his face lit up with a realization. "Joanna called to thank me for introducing you; Allison is now super popular with her new single shooting up the Billboard top 20!"
Hawke offered a word of caution. "You might want to keep a little distance from them."
Johnson understood. "Look, I'm aware Joanna and Allison have complicated personal lives, but I didn't expect it to go this deep. I was foolish enough to let it be exposed."
Hawke warned, "They can only use such tactics once; it won't work the second time."
Johnson nodded. "I get it; I helped when I could, but from now on, it's on them."
Dany interjected, "Did you manage to clear Josh Hartnett's name?"
"He approached me himself and offered a high price. I couldn't refuse," Hawke explained. "Perfect timing; Allison needed a male lead."
He cautioned, "The audition for this production is bound to raise suspicion on Josh's end. Dwayne, you're the ultimate beneficiary. Josh and his agent won't dare to cross me, so keep an eye out."
"It's all good," Johnson said confidently. "I've got him more than a length behind. It'll only widen from here."
Dany picked up a newspaper from a nearby table. "The Asylum Pictures has a film project tailored for Josh Hartnett, signed off yesterday."
Hawke glanced at it, and saw the entertainment section featured an article about Josh shaking hands with the CEO of The Asylum Pictures, with The Punisher prominently displayed on the backdrop.
Johnson took a look as well and then couldn't contain his excitement. "Is it based on Josh Hartnett's recent experiences?"
Hawke's phone buzzed in his pocket. He looked toward the set, and when filming paused, he answered.
Caroline was on the line. "Do you have time tomorrow? Steve wants to sit down and chat."
Hawke was surprised. "Doesn't he have my number?"
"Afraid you'd be too busy to answer," Caroline said. "If I set it up, and you decline, neither side loses."
Hawke remarked, "Steve is becoming increasingly thorough in his considerations."
Caroline pressed, "You don't have time?"
Since a client reached out, Hawke had no reason to refuse. "Tomorrow at 10 AM, Beverly Business Club."
Caroline ended the call.
...
Outside the production, Daniel Richard's phone started ringing unexpectedly.
He answered, spoke a few hurried words, and rushed off Olvera Street. Following a prearranged plan, he arrived at Historic Filipinotown and entered a tea house.
On the second floor, Daniel saw a brown-haired woman and said, "Anna, you called me?"
Anna Cookman poured him a cup of red tea. "Sit down."
Daniel set down his camera bag, pulled out a wicker chair, and took a large sip from the cup.
Anna filled it again and asked, "How many years have you been a freelance reporter now?"
Daniel chuckled, "Just the news I sell to you guys is worth several thousand dollars."
Anna took out a bag and pushed it toward Daniel. "Count it."
Taking the bag, Daniel opened it and counted -- there were indeed $5,000.
"This is a deposit for a news story," Anna said softly. "If you can get me what I need, I'll pay you an appropriate licensing fee based on its value; it will be at least $5,000."
"Who are you guys looking to expose? I'm just a small reporter; I can't handle the big shots," Daniel realized. Knowing celebrity gossip was easy, but certain prominent figures were off-limits.
Anna smiled, calming him down. "It's not a big shot, someone in your line of work. Do you know West Coast Media Entertainment Studio?"
"I know! It was founded by Hawke Osment," Daniel remembered from earlier that day. "A really lucky guy; he often gets exclusive breaking news and seems to have struck it rich recently."
Anna's smile faded. "Are you friends with him?"
Hearing Hawke's name, Daniel relaxed, slipping the deposit into his pocket. "Not friends; we've met two or three times at news scenes."
Anna continued, "In recent months, Hawke Osment has been consistently landing hot news. That's unusual, and there must be some special reason behind it. I hope you can uncover the truth."
She emphasized, "Gretchen is quite interested in this."
Daniel took it seriously. "Leave it to me; you know my specialty is following the news."
"Make sure to contact me if you get something," Anna left the money, grabbed her bag, and left the tea house.
Daniel drank a couple more cups of water before he hoisted his camera bag and departed.
...
Once in his car, he opened the money bag and found a note Anna had left specifically.
Since Hawke often went to the Fox Television Center, many observant people remembered his car.
The note detailed the model of a Ford and the license plate number, along with the address of West Coast Media Entertainment Studio.
East Hollywood wasn't far from there, so Daniel decided to head out to Fountain Street.
Upon arriving near Ranch Park, he slowed down and found a roadside parking spot before observing the house across the street through his car window.
The West Coast Media Entertainment Studio's brass plaque was hanging at the entrance of a two-story house.
Daniel picked up his camera and started shooting photos of it.
For a moment, he considered sneaking in to see why he couldn't make a fortune like Hawke as a fellow freelancer.
However, Daniel restrained himself; barging in could lead to trouble if he was caught.
He snapped a few more shots of the surrounding environment.
Getting follow-ups required both patience and reliable sources.
While surveying the area, he suddenly spotted a disheveled old man sitting by the curb, with an ashtray in front of him. Occasionally, passersby dropped a few coins into the ashtray.
Vendors, newsstands, and the homeless were ideal sources for street news.
Daniel set down his camera, grabbed some spare change, and walked up to the walkway near the park entrance to drop some coins into the ashtray.
Frank, the old man, didn't even lift his eyelids.
Daniel squatted down beside him and pulled out a $20 bill. "Old man, you want to earn some cash?"
Frank replied, "What do you want me to do?"
"Did you see the two-story house across the street? The one with a brass plaque," Daniel pointed to the West Coast Studio. "Have you ever met the owner? Do you know any gossip?"
Frank answered, "I'm here every day, of course I've seen him. I once heard them whispering while I was begging on the other side of the street."
"What were they saying?" Daniel asked.
Frank went silent.
Seeing Frank's age, Daniel understood these old street rats were greedy. He handed over the $20 bill.
Frank accepted the money and extended his hand again.
Daniel hesitated and gave another $20.
Frank tucked away the cash but still held out his hand.
"Don't be so greedy!" Daniel warned.
"Just leave," Frank replied, ignoring him.
Having already given $40, Daniel felt his anger flare but continued to fork out more cash.
After collecting $100, Frank spoke. "There are two people in that studio -- besides the boss, they have a little black guy working there. I once overheard the little black guy say he really liked to mess with women going through divorces with kids."
"Is that it?" Daniel frowned.
"Isn't that news?" Frank replied.
Daniel pondered; that's certainly news enough -- could be useful. Seeing the old man still so greedy, he continued. "If any strange characters show up or anything odd happens in that studio, or if the boss rushes out, call me."
He handed Frank a business card. "Call the number on it."
Frank took it and promptly extended his hand again.
Daniel stared hard at him.
Frank reminded. "Phone calls cost money, you know. If I'm here keeping an eye on things, it will affect my begging income. You should compensate me a little."
Daniel reluctantly pulled out $50 and handed it to the old man. "You do this well, and there's more money for you."
Frank grinned. "It's all good if there's cash."
The greedier people were, the more actively they looked for news. Although Daniel felt a bit of frustration, he felt okay once inside his car.
After hanging around for a while, he decided to leave.
...
As night fell, Hawke returned home.
Once he was inside the studio, Frank arrived with the ashtray.
Hawke let him in and casually dropped a coin in the ashtray. "I already had dinner outside; you won't be getting any."
"You should pay me more," Frank said, casually placing the ashtray down. He pulled out a business card from his pocket and handed it to Hawke. "This guy has been paying me to keep an eye on you and the studio. If there's any major news, he'll pay me more."
Hawke took the card and recognized the name -- Daniel Richard.
There was even a title on it: President of Free Sea Media Studio.
Hawke asked, "What does this guy look like?"
Frank gave a brief description. "Taller than you, with long hair. I even watched his car and noted down the license plate..."
Listening to him, Hawke moved to the window, pulled it open, and looked outside with binoculars, scanning the area carefully.
There was no sign of the car Frank described.
Hawke put down the binoculars and said, "If he comes around again, keep your eyes on him. Be aware of any unusual movements. If he tries to sneak in, don't engage."
Frank had intended to head for the fridge, but the moment he heard Hawke's words, he quickly stopped and asked, "The fridge isn't plugged in, right?"
"No need to open the fridge. You took the last of it, and I haven't gone shopping yet," Hawke hadn't been to the grocery store in a couple of days.
Frank got angry, purposely saying, "How can you let my fridge stay empty? Make sure to fill it up tomorrow."
Hawke ignored him and countered, "How much did you take from that bastard?"
"$150," Frank glanced at the ashtray. "You should at least match that amount."
Hawke retorted, "Have a little shame. You got from one customer and now trying to take from another..."
He paused, suddenly at a loss for words.
Frank smiled at him. "Where do you think I learned it from?"
Hawke, uninterested, picked up the phone and called Erica. "Got a moment? Help me check on a vehicle."
Erica quickly responded, confirming that the car's paperwork was in order and registered under Free Sea Media Studio.
Hawke checked the time and called Edward. "Wrap up quickly over there. We have a new client now."
*****
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