The morning air over the Paramount lot was fresh, Duke walked while harmonizing with some distant sounds that sounded like "Stupid Cupid". His leg was hurting still but he had come to not really care about it.
He wasn't heading toward the offices today, instead, he was going toward the industrial fringes of the studio, where the "magic" of Hollywood was less about lighting and more about machinery.
On his way, he saw the deshiveled founder of Paramount, Adolph Zukor talking with an Extra about the 1930s. Duke nodded at him, Zukor seem to not see him as he stared at the empty space in front of him.
Behind Duke, Gary Kurtz was keeping pace. "You do know Adolph Zukor is a 100 years old, right? He can't see."
Duke shrugged his shoulders, "I was just being nice to the old man, I always feel bad when i see him walking around. By the way we threw a gala for his 100 year old birthday in January. We tecnically both share the Chairman of Paramount Pictures title, but he is Emiritus or something like that."
As they talked, they approached a nondescript hangar tucked away behind the soundstages.
In 1967, long before he had become the Chairman of Paramount or even established himself in the industry, Duke had published a novel titled Jaws, that allowed Duke to make his first pot of money.
The book had sat on the bestseller list for fifty-two consecutive weeks, becoming a national sensation. Now, he was finally ready to film that literary success.
Duke pushed open the steel door of the workshop, and the sounds of the studio lot were replaced by the rhythmic clanging of hammers against steel and the hissing of welding torches.
The space was huge, dominated by a massive, custom-built saltwater testing tank that occupied nearly a third of the floor.
In the center of the room, resting on a series of hydraulic lifts, was the "Great White Shark."
Even in its unfinished state, without its skin, the mechanical predator was an imposing sight. It was a masterpiece of 1973 technology.
Gary Kurtz stood beside him, clutching a thick leather portfolio filled with scouting reports and logistical spreadsheets. "The crew is ready to move to Martha's Vineyard in a few months, Duke,"
Kurtz said, his voice a little louder cause of the background sound. "But-I- I have to be honest with you, Diller said we're insane for wanting to shoot on the open ocean. He wants us to use a sheltered cove in the Bahamas. Im also worried about the shark. The electrical components alone are a nightmare to waterproof."
Duke didn't look away from the machine. He reached out and touched one of the shark's unpainted steel teeth.
"I like to shoot in location, Gary," Duke said, his voice also louder, he normally liked to speak in a lower tone to aurafarm. "In- in the audience can always see the horizon line in a tank. They can feel the artificiality of the water."
Kurtz sighed, he was already used to dealing with Duke, especially since this was the third movie he had produced for him. "I hear you, Duke. I really do. But the open ocean is salt water. Salt is the enemy of everything in this room. How do we keep the shark from becoming a pile of rust?"
Duke explained, tapping a metal hinge he had brought with him against the wooden table. "I've spent the last few weeks investigating about a high-grade stainless steel alloy reinforced with chromium and molybdenum. It's virtually non-corrodable in high-salinity environments. We can use that."
Kurtz looked at the material samples, his eyes widening as he realized the level of technical detail Duke had personally overseen.
"You've been doing materials science research on your lunch breaks?" Kurtz asked, half-joking but mostly stunned.
Duke laughed, finally the hammer sound ended. "I believe in being prepared, Gary. We are going to be the first production in history to successfully film an action-thriller on the open ocean."
He moved back toward the shark, climbing up onto a platform so he could poked at a series of valves with a screwdriver, "The script is already locked, Gary. I've tightened the dialogue, especially the Quint character. I want the audience to forget this is a machine."
He hopped down from the platform, landing lightly on the concrete floor. "What's the status on the casting for Quint and Brody?"
Kurtz nodded, making a quick note in his portfolio. "We've got a shortlist, Duke. Robert Shaw is at the top for Quint, and Roy Scheider is looking very promising for Brody. They both have that lived-in, weary energy we're looking for."
Duke nodded in approval. "Good."
"The marketing strategy is already in motion," Duke said, turning back to Kurtz. "We aren't doing a limited roadshow release for this one. We're doing a wide release, at least four hundred screens simultaneously across the country, right at the start of summer."
Kurtz looked skeptical. "Four hundred screens? Duke, the logistics of shipping that many prints and coordinating that much advertising... you're really sure of this movie."
"I have never have an unprofitable film," Duke countered with a confident grin. "Trust me, Gary." Duke's foresight was his greatest weapon.
They spent the next few hours diving deep into the technical of the production. Duke insisted on reviewing the design of the fishing boat that would serve as the primary setting for the final act.
___
The executive side at Paramount was a different beast entirely.
He reached the bunker under the Paramount Lot, the heavy steel door sealed behind him with a vacuum-tight sound, cutting him off from the outside world.
Barry Diller was already pacing across the mahogany table. Opposite him sat Arthur Vance, a Republican connected lawyer, who they had hired as consultant.
Duke took his seat at the head of the table. He didn't speak immediately.
Vance decided to start directly. He opened a slim black leather portfolio, sliding a series of documents across the table.
"The American News Exchange, Mr. Hauser," Vance began, "is entirely compartmentalized. It functions as a phantom entity. We've established three distinct layers of blind trusts."
"The first is a Delaware holding company, which serves as the sole beneficiary for a second trust based in the Cayman Islands."
"The third layer is a series of non-profits. There is no line that connects this back to Paramount Pictures."
Duke studied the documents. The complexity was pleasing. "And the front-facing assets? The Washington Star?"
"Remains untouched," Diller interjected, leaning forward, "We keep that asset clean. ANE operates in shell companies. We are merely the facilitators, the ones providing the infrastructure."
Duke nodded, his gaze shifting back to the organizational flow. He could see how this would play out.
Pat Buchanan, with his ear to the Nixon administration, needed a instrument. He needed a way to craft a narrative that felt organic, something that could hit the DNC and the Congressional investigators without the White House's fingerprints being found on the weapon.
"What about the staff?" Duke asked, his eyes narrowing. "If someone gets sloppy or a reporter decides to chase a story, what do they find?"
Vance adjusted his glasses. "They find a dead end. We've contracted a boutique payroll processor that handles thousands of disparate entities. Every ANE employee is on the books of a company that, legally, is just a P.O. Box. The story generators are independent contractors bound by non-disclosure agreements that would survive a federal subpoena. Of course if the goverment really wants to find out about this, you must get rid of everything."
Duke leaned back, a faint smile touching his lips.
"We are providing the ammunition," Duke said, his tone resolute. "We aren't the trigger-pullers. If Mitchell or Buchanan want to burn the house down, we give them the torch. But if they get caught? If the investigation turns back on them? We're gone."
Diller looked at him. "And if the administration falls? If Watergate pulls the floor out from under them?"
"Then we shutter ANE as fast as we can," Duke replied, his voice devoid of sentiment. "Liquidate the assets. Dissolve the trusts. Not a single person should link us to the stories."
Vance nodded, clearly impressed by the pragmatism of the strategy. He had been hired to build the complexity, and Duke had make sure to leave Paramount with several exit points.
As the meeting concluded, relief washed over Duke.
He returned to his office, and sat at his desk, his hand resting on the keys of the Royal Quiet Deluxe. He thought back to the manuscript he had been writing.
———
Recomendations for what should be Duke's next book?
No Forrest Gump, No Game of Thrones