[Chapter 3: The Rooftop Jump]
On the second floor, in the producer's office.
Three bodyguards patrolled the hallway while two stood at the door. The producer, Broderick, closed the office door and asked the brown-haired middle-aged man who had just entered, "The chairman of the Ackerman Charity Foundation is here in person. Is the match in place?"
"I just confirmed it this morning, so I stopped by," Chairman Barack Bernanke said, sporting a typical prominent Jewish nose. "Hh blood type is already rare, and finding an organ match is even harder. Mr. Buddy Ackerman suddenly suffered organ failure, and his family initiated health checks across all their connections to find a match. Your crew was the first to come up with one."
There were some things Barack wouldn't tell Broderick; the boss, Buddy Ackerman, had originally prepared two fully-matching organ donors in his blood bank. However, when it came time to use their organs, both had contracted AIDS.
The Ackerman family was far from peaceful.
Having known each other for years, Broderick laughed heartily, "I've always had good luck."
"Once Mr. Ackerman recovers, he will meet you in person," Barack said. "Congratulations on taking another step in your career."
But Broderick replied, "I just hope the company invests more resources in Sarah, pushing her to the forefront of Hollywood."
Barack had no interest in starlets or henpecked husbands and shifted the topic, "Have you done a background check?"
Broderick's expression turned serious. "Target age: 22. Local from Provo, comes from a lower-income family, never finished high school. Parents divorced -- mother went to Europe ten years ago and never returned; father was a gamekeeper and died a year and a half ago. The target currently lives alone and once relied on church charity to survive."
Barack listened and summarized, "No relatives or connections, no wealth or power, the best kind of material." He then inquired, "Do you have a solid plan? Mr. Ackerman plans to enter politics post-recovery; we shouldn't leave any loose ends."
Broderick had thought this through and replied without hesitation, "The crew still has one rooftop stunt scene left. It was originally a wire action sequence; I'll have the director adjust it to a rooftop jump. The target will get injured and will be transferred to Los Angeles for treatment, as a demonstration of our charity."
He paused, then added, "The target isn't a union member, so the stunt performers' guild won't intervene. The studio and foundation will promote charitable causes, and since he signed a donation agreement with the foundation, everything can proceed through normal channels."
Barack asked, "A jump? Are you confident?"
"The stunt coordinator, Freddy, was personally promoted by Mr. Ackerman, and this isn't his first time handling this kind of thing. We've got leverage on our side," Broderick said as he picked up the phone and dialed a number. "Get over here."
Less than half a minute later, someone knocked on the door, and in walked Freddy, who also had Jewish roots.
Broderick wasted no time discussing the scene adjustments and stated the ultimate goal: "I need the target to get injured. When transferred to Los Angeles, he must be alive."
Freddy, who had a background with the Ackerman family and had traveled from Los Angeles, had his suspicions but kept them to himself. He got straight to the point: "We can adjust the angles on the three wire rigs slightly and lay out an airbag behind the building. I'll personally handle the controls; there won't be a problem."
Barack added, "There's a private jet at Hunter private airport in the West End. Once we've got the target, we'll fly straight to Los Angeles."
For precaution, he pointed outside. "I brought five people for you; three will keep an eye on things at the set. If the target gets suspicious, don't let him slip away! The other two will go to the target's home and destroy anything that needs to go."
Freddy wanted to climb the ranks and proactively volunteered, "Let me liaise with them."
Broderick patted his shoulder, "I have high hopes for you."
Barack glanced at his watch and said, "I'll leave this to you; I have a charity gala tonight that I must accompany Miss Ackerman to. I need to catch a flight back to Los Angeles; there are many sick children waiting for my help."
Broderick understood, "Mainly, their mothers need your comfort."
As soon as the words were spoken, both men laughed.
...
Behind the building, Hawke suddenly noticed the stunt crew's technicians bustling around again.
The three cranes on the rooftop were adjusting their positions, and a green airbag was being unrolled and inflated behind the building.
Hawke asked David beside him, "What are we shooting this afternoon?"
David replied, "A wire stunt on the rooftop."
"Are you sure?" Hawke frowned slightly, feeling uneasy from the angle he was standing at, and quickly turned his head.
Robert Downey Jr. came striding toward them with an aggressive demeanor, looking displeased.
David nudged Hawke, reminding him, "Here comes the diva."
Hawke turned to see Freddy and the assistant director, along with stunt actor McKinn, bypassing the airbag and quickly approaching them.
The assistant director said, "There's been a change for this afternoon's scene; one character is going to fall."
"Fall? That guy's character is falling!" Downey exclaimed, his frustration bubbling over. "I say! Let that guy's character fall!"
Freddy smiled at Hawke. "The director made a last-minute change; your character will end the scene with a fall."
Before Hawke could respond, Freddy added quickly, "The pay for Hollywood falls is different from standard stunts. This scene pays five thousand dollars. Don't worry about safety; we have top-notch stunt teams in Hollywood, and we've done this kind of performance dozens of times."
Upon hearing the fee, McKinn objected, "I can jump too! Just throw on a black hood; there's no difference."
Freddy shot him a glare, "That's not your character."
Hawke sensed something amiss and noticed the three suited men he had seen on the second floor forming a triangle amidst the crew, and at the center of that triangle was where they were standing.
The assistant director, impatient, waved his hand, "Don't forget the contract you signed. You need to follow the crew's instructions."
A sudden sense of crisis hit Hawke, leading him to determine not to refuse openly, "I'm fine with it."
Freddy waved his hand, "Get ready to go."
Hawke's expression remained unchanged as he followed David toward the back entrance of the building. McKinn, eager to get involved, hurriedly trailed behind them.
...
Freddy caught the assistant director, and with unspoken concerns in the air, emphasized, "The producer is watching this scene. Ensure it goes smoothly, by any means necessary."
Upon hearing about the producer, the assistant director dropped any affectation of nonchalance and responded earnestly, "I'll handle it."
Freddy went to the massive rigging control platform, routinely checking the motors and cables, ensuring everything was in place.
The three suited men -- two white, one black -- stayed downstairs as planned and did not head up.
The black man approached the airbag, while the other two took their positions outside the building -- one at the front entrance, one at the rear door.
...
Inside the building, the elevator quickly ascended, reaching the top floor shortly.
The elevator doors opened, and McKinn and the assistant director led the way.
Hawke deliberately slowed his steps, falling behind with David. Once they reached the rooftop platform, he swiftly scanned his surroundings.
Several technicians from the stunt crew, along with a filming crew, were already ready.
A cold wind whipped past, and Hawke quietly voiced the pressing question in his heart, "We signed body or organ donation agreements, didn't we?"
"What? Are you still hungover? Is your head filled with alcohol? You don't remember that?" David responded straightforwardly. "We signed with the rest of the crew; they use it to promote and hype it up -- didn't you read the paperwork?"
Hawke's heart sank as he recalled the health report -- the extremely rare Bombay blood!
In an instant, words like "material," "organ donors," "harvesting," and "kidneys" flooded his mind.
He had regained his freedom less than ten hours ago, still trying to wrap his head around his condition and the memories of his past life, and now he was tangled in this mess.
The assistant director turned back, waving his hand at Hawke, "Hurry up!"
"I... I need... to use the bathroom," Hawke said, deliberately trying to mask his rising anxiety. "Wait... I have to go to the bathroom."
The assistant director urged, "Hurry!"
But McKinn pointed at Hawke's legs, "Look, he's shaking! This coward is scared; he doesn't want to jump."
Several technicians preparing equipment and assisting with safety gear shook their heads in agreement.
Hawke wore a terrified expression, "I can't do it -- not possible! Really, I can't!"
David was about to suggest swapping roles.
Hawke grabbed his arm, "Quick, help me to the bathroom! I... I can't hold it, I need to go!"
"Dude, just hold it, don't --" David urged, helping Hawke back.
McKinn mocked, "Let's switch! This coward has no spine! I heard it's because he's too scared to jump from heights that he got kicked off the extreme sports team. You expect someone like this to deliver?"
At that moment, the intercom erupted with the director's voice from above, "Status report from all departments!"
"Camera team ready!"
"Lighting ready!"
"Stunt team down below is ready..."
One after another, the updates came in, and the assistant director pressed down the communication button, reporting, "The stunt team on the rooftop is preparing."
The director, who had been forced by the producer to change the scene, expressed his mounting frustration as he barked, "Hurry up the pace upstairs!"
McKinn leaned in low and suggested, "Let's switch -- shoot with a mask, and swap out. He's going to bail anyway! You want to bear the brunt of your boss's anger? Don't forget, the producer is watching; you want him doubting your abilities?"
Remembering Freddy's words, that they must ensure the scene was completed smoothly by any means, the assistant director immediately told the technicians around him, "Get him suited up!"
McKin pulled a black hood out of his coat pocket and pulled it over his head.
In the building, Hawke and David entered the men's restroom on the eighth floor, with the restroom window opening toward the back of the building.
Hawke swung open the window, glancing down to see the three suited men by the airbag, and caught a glimpse of a white-suited man guarding the rear door.
Just then, David, who had been wondering, opened his mouth to ask something when suddenly, the intercom crackled from above, and amidst the rush of wind, a figure plummeted down, followed by McKinn's scream as he hit the airbag with a loud thud.
Hawke gripped the window frame, eyes fixated below.
Someone shouted, "Doctor! Call a doctor! He's hurt! It looks like both legs are broken!"
*****
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