The Best Movie Actor In Hollywood! Chapter 59

On the training field, twenty-five actors were arranged in two uneven lines while Tom West handed each of them a training schedule.

Matthew glanced through the pages, getting a general overview. The regimen included drills and physical conditioning, and the objectives looked formidable; it was clear the instructor, freshly retired from the army, intended to train them to near-military standards.

"Soldiers who fight for their country feel a passionate pride in giving their lives for their homeland," Tom's booming voice declared. "You must experience the hardships of military life to truly understand that feeling, and that’s why I’ve created this rigorous training program for you."

His expression was cold as he announced, "This morning's exercise is teamwork. After lunch—a three-mile run!"

The training started immediately. The drills were tedious and exhausting, and a man like Matthew would have much preferred running three miles to marching back and forth.

However, thinking it was one thing, and doing it was another. Matthew applied himself with serious effort.

But not everyone could be like Matthew, and it didn't take long for Tom to "catch" someone with a poor attitude.

"James McAvoy!" he yelled at the British actor. "Thirty push-ups!"

The producer, Gary Goetzman, had just arrived and was watching from a distance, so James had no choice but to comply.

Within an hour of training, all the actors, Matthew included, had fully realized that Tom wasn't just putting on a strict act.

He was definitely a drill sergeant from hell.

The two assistant producers who had brought the two teams of actors the day before were also observing.

When Kate approached, Matthew clearly saw her glance in his direction for a moment and mutter something to Tom before walking away.

He wasn't foolish enough to think Kate had already forgotten the incident from that morning, but he also didn't believe she could get Tom to do anything.

And it seemed he was right: after Kate left, the training continued as usual, and Matthew didn't notice any special attention from Tom directed his way.

However, Matthew kept an eye on where Kate went, watching from the corner of his eye as she entered a small building north of the warehouse.

Kate's office, he guessed, was probably in that small building.

At the end of the morning session, the cast members sighed and trudged to the dining hall to eat, all of them so exhausted they barely wanted to move from their chairs.

After lunch, seeing Michael and Eion Bailey slumped in their chairs, unwilling to move an inch, Matthew said casually, "I'm going for a walk."

"Aren't you tired?" Michael asked, his body slumped so heavily in the chair it looked like it might give way.

Matthew shrugged lightly. "I was already training before I got here."

Eion looked at Matthew, and seeing his relaxed, easygoing demeanor, waved a hand. "We'll be here."

Matthew nodded. "I'll bring you guys some coffee."

He left the dining hall and headed toward the massive airport warehouse. He found a secluded spot and carefully examined the small building to the north. It wasn't very tall, only about four stories, built several years ago, and looked quite run-down.

Most importantly, he hadn't seen any guards or cameras on the way there.

Come to think of it, this abandoned military airfield was a huge facility, with thousands of acres of open landscape; monitoring everything would be too difficult and expensive.

Besides, this wasn't an era when surveillance cameras were everywhere.

But he didn't jump to conclusions. Training had only started the day before, and he would continue to observe.

Matthew remained hidden and watched people returning to the office building from the dining hall—mostly crew members, followed by a few assistant producers.

After waiting a little longer, Matthew saw Kate and confirmed that she worked in the small building.

He then made his way to the parking lot and easily found the Land Rover.

When he saw the vehicle, Matthew felt the urge to walk over and smash the hell out of it, but he restrained himself, running through the possibilities in his mind.

Maybe stuff something into the Land Rover's exhaust pipe? Or buy some sealant for the window seams and wiper nozzles? Or get a big bottle of acetone to pour over the car, especially in the power window crevices.

The previous Matthew had been an apprentice auto mechanic for a while; he hadn't learned much of the serious stuff, but he knew a few ways to mess up a car.

He shouldn't loosen the lug nuts or spray oil on the disc brakes—that could kill someone.

But sticking some screws into the front and back of the tires was something to consider.

He could also use a dropper to put sealant into the tire's inflation valve.

If not, he could just get a slingshot and use a steel ball to shatter the front windshield. He used to play with one as a kid and was confident he could make one. Or just throw a rock.

Just as Matthew was weighing his options, he spotted a surveillance camera on the other side of the parking lot—the first one he'd seen in the entire, vast Hatfield Airport.

The camera looked grimy and dusty, as if it hadn't been cleaned in years and had long been abandoned and forgotten by everyone. Still, Matthew wasn't willing to take the risk. He pushed aside his vengeful thoughts and left the parking lot.

"Better not to risk it," he muttered as he walked away.

Matthew walked a considerable distance, then glanced back at the Land Rover. After all, it was that bitch he couldn't stand, not the car.

On his way back, Matthew called Britney, but her assistant answered, explaining that Britney had just gone into the studio and couldn't talk.

He had no choice but to hang up, find a place to buy three cups of coffee, and return to the dining hall.

"What took you so long?" Michael asked casually when Matthew returned. "Doesn't the cold out there bother you?"

Matthew gestured with his phone. "Calling my girlfriend."

He pulled out a chair and sat down, placing two cups of coffee in front of them. "Drink up while it's hot."

They chatted as they finished their coffee. It was almost time for the afternoon training session, and even though Michael and Eion Bailey were exhausted, they had to be on time.

The afternoon session was a three-mile run. To foster a sense of teamwork, they were divided into groups of three. Naturally, Matthew teamed up with Michael and Eion Bailey. According to Tom, each group had to cross the finish line together, or their results wouldn't count, and the three slowest groups would have to do an extra fifty push-ups.

The actors in the training ranged in age from their late teens to their early forties. If he were running alone, Matthew was confident it would be an easy jog. Bailey, born in 1976, could keep up, but Michael, despite looking quite strong, was in poor shape. His large frame and the fact that he was born in 1964 made him the weak link of the trio.

About two-thirds of the way through, he started gasping for air, and Matthew and Bailey had to practically drag him along, encouraging him the whole way.

After another lap around the training field, Michael bent over, panting. "Dammit... ha... ha... if I'd known... ha... I wouldn't have come."

Matthew was practically carrying him. "Didn't you read the training schedule beforehand? This is the easy part. We're really going to suffer in a while."

Michael was drenched in sweat. "Oh God, Matthew, I'm going to die."

His words were an exaggeration, but with Matthew's and Bailey's help, Michael managed to cross the three-mile finish line. With so many actors who were poor runners, their group didn't do too badly and finished near the front of the pack.

The last three groups to finish were, unsurprisingly, punished with fifty push-ups. They weren't allowed to leave until they were done.

On the very first day, Tom had given everyone a taste of what was to come.

It seemed he had taken the exact same routine from the army and imposed it on them.

But he'd overlooked one thing: many of these actors came from privileged backgrounds. How could they be as obedient as soldiers? It was only natural that they were unhappy with him, but no one dared to say anything.

...

By the end of the day's training, most of the actors were practically dragging their bodies back to the dressing rooms. Those who, like Matthew, were still relaxed were in the minority.

In the following days, Matthew continued to train diligently, but he gradually noticed that something wasn't quite right. Every time Kate came to the training ground, Tom would watch him intently, as if waiting for him to make a mistake.

But he performed well—perhaps better than any of the other actors participating in the training.

Maybe he was just a person who saw things in a darker light, but he had a persistent feeling that Kate and Tom were up to something.

Matthew guessed that Kate probably wanted to get him kicked off the cast.

Unfortunately for her, he was part of the cast that Tom Hanks had personally approved, and it was impossible to change that without a sufficiently compelling reason.

As an assistant producer, Kate had to be well aware of this. So she came every day to check on him, though she hadn't done anything yet. She was watching Matthew, and Matthew was watching her—only Matthew was not as obvious about it. He did everything secretly, covertly.

When the fourth day of training began, Matthew repeated his routine from the previous three days. After lunch, he said he was going to call his girlfriend, then went back to his secluded corner by the warehouse to watch the small office building to the north.

Soon, he spotted Kate leaving the office building and heading toward the warehouse.

Matthew shifted his position and kept watching as Kate opened a side door and entered the warehouse.

As an assistant producer on set, it was normal for her to go into the warehouse where props and costumes were stored. He was about to wait a little longer, but Kate had only been inside for two or three minutes when Tom West approached and entered through the same side door.