The Wolf of Los Angeles

Chapter 13: High-Stakes Business Warfare

Under the dim streetlights, Hawk and Brandt pedaled their bikes furiously toward the hotel.

By the roadside, Katherine stood by a BMW, waving them over. “Get in!”

Brandt, recognizing the doorman, left a quick word before ditching their bikes by the hotel and hopping into the car with Hawk.

Katherine spoke urgently. “He didn’t find anyone at the hotel, so he went to the Crystal Theater.”

The BMW hadn’t been on the road for more than five minutes before stopping abruptly.

“There!” Katherine pointed at the theater entrance.

Hawk was the first out of the car, sprinting toward the Crystal Theater.

The client hadn’t paid in full yet; nothing could go wrong!

Eric was blocking the theater entrance, yelling, “George Hanson! Get out here, you backstabbing bastard! Come out and face me!”

A group emerged from inside the theater, led by George, wearing his signature gold-rimmed glasses.

Standing on the steps, George looked down at them with a smile full of mockery. “Look who it is—our future great director!”

Hawk arrived just in time to catch George’s next jab, “And his brainless sidekick.”

Eric shouted back, “Was it you who sabotaged us by making Castle Rock Entertainment change their schedule? You despicable, shameless…”

For a moment, guilt flashed across George’s face, but he quickly recovered, his resolve solidified as he straightened up and interrupted, “I’m just a small fry; how could I possibly influence Castle Rock? Don’t be ridiculous!”

Eric looked ready to storm up the steps, but Hawk grabbed him, whispering, “This won’t solve anything.”

Even as Eric struggled to break free, Katherine and Brandt rushed over to hold him back.

Suddenly, with a heavy thud, the theater doors burst open. A middle-aged man wearing a cowboy hat stormed out, wielding a buzzing stun baton that crackled with electricity.

He pointed the baton at the four of them and barked, “Outsiders, stop causing trouble at my theater! Get lost now, or I’ll bash your heads in and leave you lying like stinking dog sh*t!”

The weapon worked like a charm, instantly calming Eric.

Hawk pulled him back and addressed the theater owner, “Relax, buddy. We’re leaving.”

The middle-aged man watched as the four retreated to their car before lowering the baton and shouting, “Don’t let me see you here again, you stinking dog sh*ts!”

George flashed the owner a grateful smile. “Thanks.”

“Protecting my private screening clients is my responsibility,” the owner replied as he headed back inside. “You’d better finish setting up by 11 PM.”

George followed him into the theater.

In the lobby, a bald man sat drinking alone. George pulled out a chair to join him, still uneasy. “Are you sure they don’t have a chance?”

The bald man stroked his beard and grinned. “Rob Reiner is only in town for a day. Even if they wanted to reschedule their screening, there’s no way to coordinate a new time slot. Every theater in Park City—nearly twenty of them—has their schedules packed, and all the other productions are busy hosting buyers and screening groups.”

He poured George a drink and added, “They could rent an outdoor tent for their screening, but that’d only insult Rob and Castle Rock Entertainment.”

George raised his glass. “To our success.”

---

Back at the hotel, in the suite’s living room, Eric sat with his head hung low as Katherine quickly summarized the situation.

About half an hour ago, she had received a call from Rob’s assistant. Rob had unexpectedly changed his Sundance schedule and planned to watch another film tomorrow morning, forcing District Heights to move its screening to the afternoon.

The problem was that the Great Salt Lake Theater was fully booked, and none of the other productions were willing to adjust their schedules. Katherine had contacted other theaters, but the response was the same.

In the film industry, distribution companies were king. Small productions like theirs worked tirelessly to arrange screenings for potential distributors, and no one dared risk canceling them.

After probing someone from Rob’s team, Katherine learned that Rob would be attending George Hanson’s screening of Lemon Street tomorrow morning.

The reason wasn’t complicated. Rob’s assistant had shown him promotional materials for both District Heights and Lemon Street. The former, with its Mexican themes, didn’t appeal to Rob, while the latter, a film about white Americans, did.

Though Katherine’s father had known Rob personally, he’d been dead for years, and those old ties couldn’t compete with commercial interests.

Brandt scratched his head, frustrated. “Making quick cash is so hard—so many stupid problems.”

“We’re finished,” Eric said hollowly.

“You’re just going to give up?” Katherine snapped, unable to swallow her anger after being threatened with a stun baton. “Bow to that two-faced bastard?”

Hawk remained silent, unhurried—it wasn’t his problem yet.

Katherine noticed his calm demeanor and asked, “Do you and your team have any ideas?”

Hawk shrugged. “This isn’t part of my service package.”

Katherine scoffed, pulled out her checkbook, and started writing. She handed over a new check. “Here’s your bonus.”

Hawk glanced at the $5,000 amount but didn’t take it immediately. “What do you want?”

“I want to get things back on track and ruin George Hanson—make him pay, the more miserable, the better!”

“I’ve been meaning to expand into new areas,” Hawk said thoughtfully. After mulling it over, he accepted the check. “Let me ask first: If Lemon Street doesn’t screen as planned, can you get Rob to come back to us?”

Katherine nodded. “Rob’s a stickler for efficiency. He’s only in Park City for a day and won’t carve out another two hours.”

After a long moment, Hawk said, “Tomorrow morning, go to the airport to meet Rob. Stick to him and wait for my call.”

“That’s it?” Katherine asked.

Hawk extended his hand. “I’ll need to borrow your BMW.”

After Katherine handed over the keys, Hawk turned to Brandt. “What time do most theaters close?”

“By 11:30 PM for sure,” Brandt replied.

Hawk checked the time. “Let’s take a drive.”

He clapped Eric on the shoulder. “Buddy, pull yourself together. If you stay like this, your movie will be doomed.”

“Is there still hope?” Eric asked hesitantly, overhearing the earlier conversation.

“There is,” Hawk replied.

Eric forced himself to sit up straighter. “What do you need me to do?”

“Make sure nothing happens to the film reels or the screening. Keep the reels in sight at all times.”

“I’ll have two people with me,” Eric promised.

Taking Brandt downstairs, Hawk grabbed a quick snack before inspecting the BMW to ensure there was no recording equipment. Then they drove toward the Crystal Theater.

“What’s the plan?” Brandt asked incessantly. “This is tough. You’d have to convince Rob to change his mind…”

“Keep an eye out for cameras along the way,” Hawk interrupted.

“Public surveillance is negligible in Park City, and private surveillance is nearly nonexistent. We don’t like invasive technology,” Brandt replied. But he still checked thoroughly. Familiar with the area, he eventually pointed out an alley. “No cameras here—I’m sure of it.”

Hawk gestured to a shadowy wall. “That’s the back of the Crystal Theater, right?”

Brandt nodded. “Yep.”

Without stopping, Hawk asked, “Need me to pull over so you can confirm the power cable layout?”

“No need,” Brandt replied without thinking. “In winter, all the wiring runs underground, and theaters keep their breakers in dedicated rooms.”

Continuing to drive, Hawk asked, “Didn’t you say you studied electrical engineering?”

Brandt, oblivious to the trap, puffed up. “Of course. The wiring layout for Park City is practically etched in my brain.”

Hawk thought to himself that he’d picked the right companion from the bus—a perfect asset.

As they passed the neon sign of the Crystal Theater again, Brandt’s confidence faltered. His hands and feet grew cold. “Hawk, what exactly are you planning?”

“We’re facing a dire situation,” Hawk explained. “If things get worse, not only will we lose the remaining payment, but we’ll also have to refund what we’ve earned. The theater gathering, the business—all of it will go down the drain.”

Brandt fell silent for once.

Hawk spoke softly, “Whether we like it or not, we’re now engaged in a business war—a high-level battle in the film industry.”

“But… but…” Brandt stammered. “Business wars aren’t supposed to involve… this kind of thing.”

Parking the car, Hawk waited until Brandt had calmed down. “The higher the stakes, the simpler the methods.”

The thought of losing money—and the dream girl—convinced Brandt. He nodded. “I’m in!”

“Good,” Hawk said without wasting words. “Do you have black clothing, face-covering hoods, sturdy ropes, or similar items at home?”

“Yes,” Brandt said. “My parents work at a ski resort. We’ve got plenty of that stuff.”

“Can you use your knowledge to make it look like a power failure isn’t sabotage and can’t be fixed quickly?” Hawk asked.

“That’s easy,” Brandt replied. After a pause, he added, “With Park City’s efficiency, a complex breaker issue would take two to three days to fix. Even if the theater rushed, it’d still take a full day.”

“Didn’t you mention that Park City’s regulations prohibit commercial cables from being above ground?” Hawk asked.

Brandt nodded. “If they try to borrow power from a neighbor, we’ll have someone watching and report them.”

It had to be said—following Hawk these past few days had been an education for Brandt.

Hawk nodded slightly. “Hire your friends Lewis and Damian to help out.”

After a moment of thought, he added, “We’ll wait until dawn to act, giving them no time to react. Also, check if they have backup generators.”

In this high-stakes business war, Hawk was ready to deploy one of his go-to strategies: cutting the power.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!