"Is that you? Tommy. ”

New York, Upper East Side, Motura's new private mobile phone received an international call, and the other party opened his mouth and asked without a clue.

"Sandy?" Listen to a voice like Sandy Glenn.

The other party did not answer.

"The kid is ill, manic, delusional...... He was taking too many medicines that he shouldn't have. Motura said.

"In any case, you will no longer be Miss Kelly's manager from next year, and I must inform you in advance due to obligation." Said on the other side of the phone.

Motura smiled, "I think there's still more than a year left to expire." ”

"We'll pay the cancellation fee as it is."

"She'll regret it."

"Maybe." The phone was hung up.

Motura put down her phone, "Please come in." ”

Epic Records' head of security pushed the door in, "Mr. Motula, more thorough security measures have been put in place for your family, and we captured this." ”

He put the picture on the table, a black driver waiting for a traffic light, as if it was a junction not far from his residence, this guy looked like a villain, with his arm on the rolled down window, his finger holding a cigarette, and his face tattoo was clearly captured by the camera.

"When?" Motura asked.

"At noon, he passed by the same intersection twice and caught our attention." The head of security replied.

"Give this picture to our people at the nearby police station for questioning."

Motura hinted: "It would be better to find a reason to limit his movements." ”

"Okay."

The head of security left a newspaper as he left.

'The vicious turmoil in the hip-hop circle continues to burn, and after 2PAC, APLUS was also assassinated? ’

Under the big headline are two visually striking pictures, one of a Rolls-Royce Silver Spirit being hoisted high, and the other of a police officer carrying a stretcher into an ambulance, with blood stains on the clothes and stretchers of the black wounded.

APLUS CLAIMED THAT HE HAD PLANNED TO RIDE IN THE CAR, BUT HAD CANCELLED THE TRIP AT SHORT NOTICE, AND LUCKILY ESCAPED THE TRIP, AND HIS DRIVER AND BODYGUARD WERE SERIOUSLY INJURED. He posted conspiracy theories on the America Music website against Sony Columbia Records and CBS television, saying that the crash was deliberately created, and the rhetoric was very intense. ’

A spokesman for the local prosecutor's office said the police had entered the investigation process for the accident......

Motura sighed after reading it, and was rubbing her brows in contemplation, when her phone rang again, "Mr. Stringer......"

"That kid directed and acted ......"

"But he showed a flaw, and we can link this incident to the death of 2PAC and promote it as the revenge of the Blood Gang...... Let him shoot himself in the foot. ”

"Wait," Howard Stringer interrupted him suddenly, "how do you know the driver is black?" ”

"I also have my own Hollywood news channel." Motura replied, "It has absolutely nothing to do with me. ”

Howard Stringer, who was in the office of Sony Electronics' North Mi headquarters, was silent for a moment and then hummed and hung up the phone.

"The Mayor's Office." The secretary reported outside: "Mr. Giuliani. ”

"Take it in."

He cleared his throat and picked up the microphone, "Hey, Mr. Mayor." ”

"Watch out to Howard, the inner city broadcaster, the actor isn't stupid enough to cause trouble for his Chicago Donkey Party friends, is he trying to incite African-Americans in New York...... A reenactment of what happened in Los Angeles in '92? Giuliani asked.

"He doesn't have that much energy, in fact, according to our polls, he's now rejected by the majority of the population." Howard Stringer replied, "New York's African-American singers don't want to be taken advantage of by outsiders. ”

"Are you sure? I don't know much about the entertainment industry, but after living for such an age, there are few celebrities in my memory who can make such a big move when the polling day of the general election is approaching. Giuliani questioned.

"I'm 100% sure, don't worry, Mr. Giuliani."

Howard Stringer laughs: "He's got some Black American mouthpieces under his umbrella and he's pretty good at using new media, but that's it. ”

"Well, I'll trust you this time."

After finishing his conversation with Giuliani, Howard Stringer turned on the radio and tuned into the band of the inner-city radio company.

'Malcolm Ax, Dr. King, 2PAC...... Now it's APLUS's turn, and they want to kill every black man who tries to fight, every single one! We can't tolerate it any longer, we have to do something Black man! ’

The radio host was frantically incitemented in a frenzied tone.

He pulled out his golf club in the corner of his office and listened while playing on the mini fairway on the floor.

"Haha, it's hard to imagine that they were still fighting for Oprah before." A white executive walked in without knocking, smiling and gesturing at the gesture on his wrist.

"Oh, I almost forgot."

He asked his secretary to take the golf equipment to the car first, "Let you have two strokes today?" Or three shots? ”

"You were the one who lost last time."

"It was just an accident......

I didn't bother to turn off the radio, and I walked out of the office with my golfers.

"Wouldn't today's rhetoric be too offensive? We would be embarrassed if the Los Angeles police investigated just an ordinary car accident. ”

At the time of the commercial, the black host of the inner-city radio company pressed the intercom and asked the bosses of the New York branch who were listening through the glass outside the recording room.

"One of the company's major shareholders has never been a big-hearted person."

The director of the New York branch replied: "He can say whatever he likes to hear, anyway, this time he only needs you to scold the white people." ”

"What is this? Our act of atonement? The host complained.

"Haha! Keep doing your job, it's better to do something at this time than some guy who doesn't want to act. ”

The director of the New York branch said with a smile.

He's alluding to Gordon, the A+CN boss and nightly news anchor who still hesitates.

"I need to get further evidence before I can make that kind of news."

In Chicago's A+CN evening news studio, Gordon sat alone behind the anchor desk, answering Pierre Sutton's call while operating the laptop in front of him, "Pierre, is APLUS's mental state really okay?" I'm reading his post on the American music site, and between the lines......"

"For your own good, Gordon, do something!"

Pierre Sutton interrupted him, "It's not surprising that he was almost hit by a van early in the morning. ”

"I've been thinking a lot lately, maybe no matter how hard I try, I'll be hated by him, and I have this realization."

"The blacks' own 24-hour news station has been ruthlessly proven to be unprofitable, and that's the core problem, and I'm not going to do it for long," Gordon said. ”

"Didn't you just get a capital injection from Chicago politics? That money is enough to burn for a long time, and what APLUS needs most now is support, loyalty. Pierre Sutton advised: "He has the patience to endure long-term losses." ”

"He didn't even bother to give the order himself, no, let Miss Sloan pass on a word."

Gordon asked, "I haven't been given any instructions, what about you?" ”

"Don't kid yourself, you're a veteran media guy Gordon, you don't need me to say this at all, I'm your friend...... Alas! Forget it, you decide. ”

Pierre sighed and hung up the phone.

"Fifteen minutes countdown." Broadcast alerts.

Gordon looked down at the script of tonight's news and said a few minutes later, "Bring the press release from the car accident in the morning, after the election news." ”

"Okay." The staff will send the manuscript that has been prepared.

"The news picture is the crashed Rolls-Royce......"

Gordon sketched out the press release, swapping affirmative phrases for more softening ones.

And in Hollywood, in Beverly Hills, Hayden said to the FBI agents who came to check on the scene at the door: "SORRY, MR. PLUS THINKS LOS ANGELES IS NOT SAFE AND HAS LEFT HERE." ”

"Who does this house belong to?" The agent asked.

"It belongs to me." Hayden replied that in order to avoid taxes, it would be complicated to actually pour the property into Amy's name, so nominally the house is still his own, which happens to save a lot of trouble.

"Can you go in and have a look?" The agent asked.

"Uh, wait, my lawyer hasn't arrived yet, let's check the crime scene first."

Hayden saw Donovan's car driving in the distance, and hurriedly dealt with the detective a few words, and then opened the iron door himself.

"The paparazzi are rushing over, maybe someone is working on the background street topography of the post place photo to analyze the specific address, maybe someone inside the police station has been bribed by the media."

Donovan hurriedly got out of the car and said, "What about APLUS?" ”

"Just left ......"

Hayden anxiously whispered, "He is very dissatisfied with us William Morris now, and I can see that he has been rummaging over and over all day about driver's hats, moturas, Italians, mafia, and truckers' unions, and the more he contacts, the more he suspects that this is not a simple accident, and he posts a lot on the Internet." ”

"I've seen it."

Donovan asked, "Do you think he'll replace us next year?" ”

"It's very likely! You know his character, Donovan, if you don't do something about it, we'll be finished! Definitely going to lose him! He trusted Sloan even more, and may have called Ovitz and Paikinsley during the day. ”

Hayden cried again: "How are you doing over there?" The driver who caused the accident ......"

"If that guy was a professional killer who could take on such a big task, I would have to say that he hid himself too deep and too well, but it doesn't matter now...... APLUS just wants favorable public opinion, right? Hayden. ”

Donovan asked.

"What do you mean?" Hayden didn't understand, "What are you going to do?" ”

Donovan shook his head, his expression a little lonely.

"The name and home address of the driver who caused the accident have been leaked!"

The paparazzi who had just driven their motorcycles outside the villa received calls from the newspaper and the station, "Don't worry about the scene!" There's nothing over there, take a few brake marks and rush over, all go! The supervisors gave orders one after another.

In a black neighborhood in Los Angeles, police officers had just received a search warrant from the prosecutor's office when they heard the roar of paparazzi's motorcycles, followed by TV vans and helicopters.

"These damn journalists!"

The sheriff hurriedly called someone to pull a cordon in front of the driver's house, looked at the neighbors who were surrounded by black pressure and watched the excitement, and showed the black woman with five or six children behind her buttocks, and the wife of the driver who caused the accident showed the search warrant, and then led the team to rummage through the boxes and cabinets.

"Look at this!"

It had only been a few minutes before a young police officer shouted excitedly as he snatched three heavy plastic bags from the toilet tank.

"Give it to me."

The sheriff was going to come and open it, and it was full of bundles of old bills with a denomination of twenty dollars.

Weighing it casually, "About 60,000 knives." He judged by years of experience.

The officers cheered enthusiastically.

"Oh my God!"

The driver's wife covered her mouth, "I don't know, I don't know......" sobbed in disbelief and helplessness.