[Chapter 71: Destroying Careers, Destroying Families]
The Hollywood precinct was under the management of the West Los Angeles division, where four suspects were brought in after receiving urgent medical treatment. Hawke, Edward, Eric, and Frank, who were involved, decided to go there as well.
The police had obtained copies of the internal and external surveillance footage, and since Hawke was a known figure at West Los Angeles precinct, everything went smoothly. Frank even made a phone call, and a female police officer recognized Hawke and discreetly contacted Erica.
Once Hawke finished his statement and exited the office, he saw Erica waiting at the door.
"Don't you have patrol duty?" Hawke asked, noticing Erica's fully armed uniform, and he noticed her police rank had been raised.
Erica knew how to play it cool: "A colleague of mine saw you being brought in and called me. I was worried something might've happened to you, so I came to check."
She asked, "What happened?"
"It might be trouble from the news I was working on. A few gang members broke into my studio to steal something," Hawke casually explained.
Erica raised an eyebrow: "You modified the safe with an electric shock?"
Just then, Frank came over and chimed in: "It's more than that. He was worried the thieves would wear gloves, so he even equipped the safe with steel needles."
Erica was at a loss for words.
Hawke had his own theory: "Who keeps valuable items in a safe? Installing a safe is just waiting for someone to steal it, so of course, I had to take some necessary measures."
Frank was impressed: "You're a genius. The safe manufacturers should hire you as a designer."
Hawke ignored the old man and said to Erica, "Those four thieves definitely had someone behind them. Can you keep an eye on it? It'd be best if you could find out who it is."
Erica replied, "I'll ask around."
She quickly left the room, only to return not long after with information: "All four of them have prior records, but they're tight-lipped about who they were working for. It might take some time."
Hawke stated plainly, "I mentioned to the officers during the statement that I suspect it's related to Miller Collins."
Erica added, "The gang those four are part of is called the Dwarfs' Gang, comprised entirely of white males. Be careful."
Hawke agreed, "I will."
As Erica spotted her partner Julian arriving, she pointed at her watch: "I've got to go; I've still got patrol."
"Be careful out there," Hawke said.
Erica smiled and exited.
Frank suddenly lowered his voice: "That watch she wears is quite pricey."
"Read the writing on the wall," Hawke replied, and they waited a moment in the waiting area until Edward was the last one to exit.
The sheriff in charge of the scene spoke with the four of them, indicating that they would handle the situation with strict measures and asked Hawke to log his losses for compensation later.
Frank felt Hawke was inexperienced and took the forms from him, filling them out, exaggerating the value of all items - for instance, a toy camera was claimed to be a professional digital camera.
The thugs were undoubtedly heading to prison.
...
By the time the four of them left West L.A. precinct, it was already past eight o'clock at night.
Once in the car, Hawke said to Edward, "Let's head to the Fox Television Center."
Frank immediately guessed, "You plan to sell the surveillance footage?"
"Of course," Hawke replied. "They broke into my studio, damaged my camera model, and wasted so much of my electricity. I have to cover my losses."
Frank was skeptical, thinking that one day, Hawke might even sell himself as news.
Upon arriving at Fox Tower, Hawke carried his laptop upstairs alone. Just as he entered the Midnight Entertainment crew area, he saw Megan Taylor arguing with someone.
"This news must be retracted," the short-haired woman said sternly. "Miller Collins is the spokesperson for three of our advertisers; your actions could cause significant financial loss!"
Megan remained calm: "Just an hour ago, I called and emailed all three companies according to company policy."
She knew why the woman was there and didn't engage in an argument: "Director Cynthia approved the publication."
The woman retorted, "Don't use Director Cynthia to pressure me..."
Megan interrupted her, "Jessica, we're Channel 11 under the Fox Network. Do you really believe the esteemed Fox would cave to three advertisers over this?"
Jessica realized her efforts had failed and turned to leave without saying anything further.
Once in a secluded hallway, she pulled out her phone: "Sorry, I can't stop it. Fox has already pushed it into the release schedule unless you can handle Cynthia Rosenberg or Roger Ailes."
No matter how it turned out, she had tried her best and could justify the salary she received.
...
In the lobby of the crew, Megan saw Hawke and looked a bit surprised: "You're back? Or did something else happen?"
Hawke tapped his laptop: "We need to talk privately."
Megan led him into her office.
"About an hour ago, my studio was attacked," Hawke sat back on the couch in the reception area, opened his laptop, and explained what had happened while showing Megan the footage.
Megan naturally sat next to Hawke, closely watching the video.
In high definition on the surveillance footage, the nameplate of the studio was blurred out, but everything else was almost fully visible.
Seeing the two thieves fall, Megan couldn't understand: "What happened?"
Hawke simply replied, "The safe was set up with electric needles, and so were the storage racks."
Megan asked, "Did you anticipate they would make a move?"
Hawke thought for a moment and said, "You're in the news business; you should know better than I do. High-end business wars and upscale public relations will use any means necessary."
Megan was genuinely impressed this time: "You even used your studio to create news."
Hawke continued, "They're infringing on press freedom! A reporter got video of Miller Collins, and then gang members broke into the reporter's studio. If it's said there's no connection to Miller, a five-year-old wouldn't believe it."
He was always keen on urgency: "Aren't you looking for crime-related celebrity news? Well, here it is!"
Megan had similar thoughts, and when the surveillance video finished, she said, "There's no evidence to connect the two, but I can design and guide the presentation to easily provoke audience associations."
Hawke seized the opportunity: "So, this celebrity crime news video for $30,000 isn't too expensive, right?"
Megan, needing the footage, shot back, "No more than $10,000."
Hawke replied, "Deal."
Megan went to make a call, asking Claire to send the storage drive and agreements over.
As Hawke copied the video, he asked, "Have you notified the advertisers yet?"
"Standard notification; there were some hiccups, but it was within my control," Megan called out as she got busy, "Just wait and see the news when you get home."
Having signed the authorization agreement, Hawke took a $10,000 check and headed down the elevator.
...
When he reached the first floor, he bumped into Caroline Jones, greeting her: "Long time no see, Miss Baa."
Caroline responded, "Country bumpkin."
Hawke suddenly thought of a possibility: "Could Miller Collins' PR be you?" He asked, "What are you doing here?"
Caroline glanced toward the elevator entrance: "I'm accompanying a client to a late-night talk show."
She held the elevator door: "The person's here, can't talk now."
"Bye," Hawke said, stepping forward, and encountered a couple, both white.
They were relatively young; the man was tall and handsome, while the woman was pretty and elegant.
However, she had a big belly, looking like she was about to give birth.
The man supported her, suggesting a great couple in love.
Caroline turned around, glaring at Hawke.
Hawke opened his mouth, making a "Baa" shape with his lips.
Caroline's expression finally darkened.
Hawke felt rejuvenated and left the Fox Tower with a light step.
...
Santa Monica, Palisades.
The fax machine buzzed loudly, disturbing Miller Collins' restless state.
He gulped down a glass of whiskey and poured another, continuing to drink.
Once the noise finally stopped, his agent picked up several fax documents, glanced at them, and his face changed, handing one to Miller: "The four brands you were working with -- razors, condoms, sports drinks, and men's underwear -- all sent termination letters to the agency. This was forwarded by the agency."
Despite all his efforts, the results were dismal. If Miller had just been passively absorbing all of this, that might've been easier to deal with, but here he was, actively shooting himself in the foot.
Miller quickly flipped through the papers, demanding, "How could you let this happen?!"
The agent replied, "The agency did their utmost, but that jerk sold the video to Fox immediately, and Fox followed standard procedures notifying their collaborating brands."
That day, he made countless calls and used various personal connections, unable to contain his rising voice: "That's Fox! Your agency and PR firm can't face off against Fox. The tactics we typically use can't affect Fox at all."
Miller felt like he was strapped to an electric chair, waiting for execution, muttering, "Fox, Fox..."
Outside, car noises could be heard, and Henry walked in quickly, addressing Miller: "The people I sent out went dark; I just found out they were caught by the West Division. That West Coast studio isn't simple; they have close ties to the West Division."
Seeing Henry, Miller grabbed his arm, almost clawing at him in desperation: "The video's at Fox Tower; get it back for me, please..."
Henry chuckled at his condition: "That's Fox, Fox! How do you expect me to get it back? Should I take a crew and guns with me?"
Public relations pushed Miller back to reality: "Once the video landed in Fox's hands, the situation was completely out of our control. I suggest you start considering how to deal with the fallout from the exposure."
The agent added: "If the sponsors know, it won't be long before the team finds out. Miller, it'd be best if you speak with the team before the news airs."
Miller looked utterly pained: "What am I going to do about that $10 million contract?"
The agent further advised, "The contract will be tough to negotiate. You also need to assemble a legal team quickly. The brands you endorse will definitely seek to shift their losses to you and sue you for breach of contract."
As Miller listened, he suddenly realized he might end up bankrupt.
He grabbed the whiskey bottle and took several gulps.
The agent signaled to Henry, who quickly stopped him.
This wasn't the time to get drunk; there were a bunch of issues waiting to be resolved.
Miller pushed Henry away.
Henry, who wasn't as strong as him, calmly said: "Stop drinking; think about Maria and Dorothy. What would happen if they found out?"
Miller's grip loosened, and the bottle dropped to the floor.
He bolted out the door frantically, ignoring the shouts behind him, jumped into a car, and sped away.
Those bastards were out to destroy his career and his family!
*****
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