365-367

Chapter 365: A Betting Deal 

Jack Welch shook his head, offering some advice. “Dunn, it’s great that you’ve got that youthful drive, but don’t let it make you cocky! Redstone may be old, but his life experience is his biggest asset. Underestimate a guy like that, and you’ll regret it big time.” 

Dunn grinned. “I’m not underestimating him! Okay, maybe for a bit I wasn’t too impressed, but you’ve set me straight, and I’m seeing things differently now. No worries, though—I’ve got some tricks up my sleeve. I can toss Redstone a bone, get him to ease off on my TV network for a while.” 

Welch chuckled, half-amused, half-exasperated. “That might buy you some time, but it’s not a long-term fix! Once he sees you as a real threat, those little favors won’t mean squat.” 

Viacom’s got the biggest cable network in the U.S. Sure, if Disney finishes integrating their shiny new Fox Family Channel, they might edge ahead in market share. 

But compared to Dunn Films? Viacom’s a freaking titan! 

When Welch ran GE, he’d scooped up NBC, so he knew a thing or two about TV. In his view, building a TV network from the ground up takes a solid decade—minimum! 

Even Fox’s network, backed by News Corp’s deep pockets, took 20 years to claw its way to about 15% market share. It’s still nowhere near the old giants—ABC, NBC, CBS. 

This is an industry built on time and viewer habits. 

Sure, Dunn might pull some strings to delay Redstone’s crackdown. But that’s just a Band-Aid. In the long grind of growing a TV network, Viacom’s hammer’s gonna drop eventually! 

When it does, it’ll be a disaster. 

All that hard work? Down the drain. 

Dunn clearly didn’t see it that way. His face radiated confidence as he smiled. “Mr. Welch, in my book, buying some time is plenty!” 

“Hm?” Welch raised an eyebrow. “You think you can break Viacom’s stranglehold?” 

“No way!” Dunn waved it off. “Viacom’s a beast—untouchable for now. But their TV business? It’s mostly basic cable networks. Mr. Welch, I don’t know if this’ll make sense to you, but my network, TA, is a premium cable network. Viacom’s got Showtime in that space, and yeah, they’re strong, but they’re not invincible.” 

Premium cable’s a newer game—higher fees, extra subscription costs, and you need a special decoder box to get the signal. 

Welch nodded. “I know—HBO and Showtime. But those two are backed by huge media conglomerates with deep content libraries and decades of growth. You really think you can muscle into that market quick?” 

Dunn paused, then smiled. “Mr. Welch, traditional TV—public networks, basic cable—makes money off ads. Premium cable? No commercials. That means premium cable’s a totally different beast from the Big Three networks or the thousands of basic cable channels out there. Different business model, different mindset.” 

Welch’s eyes narrowed slightly, watching this young guy across from him talk with such swagger. That confidence? It reminded him of himself back in the day. 

At 30, Welch had gone to bat for a project, convincing GE to drop $10 million on a Norrell Plastics factory. He’d volunteered to run it himself. 

That move kicked off his rise to ruling GE. 

Now, looking at Dunn’s hustle, edge, and self-assurance, Welch saw a guy who might just outshine his younger self. 

No wonder Dunn had skyrocketed in just a few years—his charisma was off the charts. 

Dunn went on, “Premium cable’s no different from the movie business in my mind. It all boils down to one thing: content is king! Pearl Harbor had all the hype in the world, but no substance—it flopped. Last year, Dunn Films was staring down bankruptcy. Then Spider-Man hit, and boom—we’re the seventh major player in Hollywood! Content’s my ace in the hole!” 

Welch shook his head, amused. “You’re talking about Band of Brothers?” 

By now, everyone in America had heard: Steven Spielberg, Dunn Walker, and Tom Hanks—three Hollywood heavyweights—had teamed up, sunk $120 million into a WWII miniseries. It was making waves. 

Dunn didn’t deny it. “Right now, TA’s airing our original show Six Feet Under. Band of Brothers is up next.” 

Welch wasn’t sold. “You think one or two shows can rewrite the rules of premium cable? Dunn, that’s a pipe dream.” 

“Haha! Mr. Welch, you’re the expert in management, but content? That’s my turf,” Dunn said, his tone edging toward cocky. 

Welch’s brow furrowed, a little annoyed. 

Dunn pressed on, “Mr. Welch, traditional industries—manufacturing, say—might need time to grow, like you said. But movies and premium cable? Sometimes it doesn’t take years of groundwork. It’s like a star blowing up overnight. Spider-Man made Dunn Films a household name in one go. Band of Brothers can do the same for TA Network—straight to the top!” 

Welch shook his head repeatedly. As an old-school businessman, he was like Hollywood’s method actors—grind it out, build it slow. The idea of an overnight sensation? He just couldn’t buy it. “Dunn, you’re way too confident.” 

Dunn shrugged casually. “Confidence comes from strength! Dunn Films has Spider-Man and Never Sinking—those bailed me out of big trouble. Six Feet Under and Band of Brothers? They’re TA Network’s ticket to glory.” 

Welch smirked. “So, in your head, if you can keep Redstone off your back for a few months, you’re sure you can flip the script on Showtime and dominate premium cable?” 

“Exactly!” 

Dunn’s confidence impressed Welch, but their mindsets were worlds apart. 

Taking a deep breath, Welch smiled. “After retiring from GE, I’m planning to start an MBA program. Plus, I’m launching Jack Welch Consulting, partnering with a few promising companies. You’ve got a big name, so I’ve had my eye on you for a while.” 

Dunn’s face shifted. “Man, if I’d known, I would’ve just gone along with you earlier—what an opportunity!” 

Partnering with Jack Welch Consulting would be like having Welch himself as Dunn Films’ economic guru. 

An elder in the house is worth a fortune! 

Welch’s management expertise and strategic know-how could give Dunn’s company a massive boost. 

“Don’t get the wrong idea,” Welch said, waving it off. “Here’s the deal: let’s see how it plays out. If TA Network really does what you say—if two shows can upend Showtime’s decades-long grip—I’ll come work for your company as a consultant. That is, if you don’t mind an old guy like me.” 

“Are you kidding?”  

Dunn’s eyes lit up, barely containing his excitement. 

This was huge! 

Welch wasn’t Hollywood, but business strategy and management? Universal skills. Plus, his reputation and connections were a goldmine! 

Even better, consultants don’t double-dip in the same industry. 

If Welch joined Dunn Films, he’d be off-limits to potential rivals like Disney, News Corp, Viacom, or Comcast. 

In the media game, Dunn would be Welch’s one and only. 

And down the line, when Dunn made a play for a public network? CBS belongs to Viacom, ABC’s with Disney—that leaves NBC, owned by GE. 

With Welch’s pull at GE, that deal would be a slam dunk. 

The perks were endless! 

Dunn shot to his feet, grabbing Welch’s hand with both of his, pumped. “Mr. Welch, I’m so grateful for this chance. I know we’re gonna have an awesome partnership!” 

“Hold up! I haven’t agreed yet—this is a betting deal.” 

“A bet?” 

Dunn laughed out loud. “You’re so gonna lose!” 

Chapter 366: Furious! 

The Minority Report is an adaptation of the famous sci-fi writer Philip K. Dick’s work of the same name, with the rights owned by 20th Century Fox. This marks the first collaboration between Steven Spielberg and 20th Century Fox. 

Two years ago, Spielberg and Tom Cruise had already agreed to team up for this film. But with both of them being so busy, things got delayed. 

Now, everything’s set—the movie project is confirmed and slated to start filming in mid-July. 

As the chosen female lead, Natalie is really taking her first collaboration with a big director like Spielberg seriously. She’s been holed up in the study all day, poring over the script, barely stepping outside. 

This morning, Dunn woke up and, as usual, found the beautiful figure beside him gone, leaving only a faint trace of her fragrance. 

After a quick wash, Dunn headed straight to the study. Sure enough, there was Natalie—but something was off. She looked dejected, her lips pursed, and the moment she saw Dunn, her eyes instantly turned red. 

Dunn’s heart skipped a beat. He rushed over, pulled her into his arms, and gently coaxed her, “I’m sorry, it’s my fault. I promise, from now on, I’ll stay by your side every night and stop messing around with the others.” 

Natalie sniffled, tears welling up, looking pitiful enough to melt anyone’s heart. “No… it’s not about you…” 

As she spoke, the tears started streaming down her face. 

Dunn’s brows shot up, anger flashing across his face. “Not me? Then who? Tell me, I’ll handle it for you!” 

Natalie shook her head gently, tears glistening on her cheeks, making her look even more delicate and lovely. 

Dunn’s heart ached even more. He held her tighter. “What’s going on? Come on, tell me—maybe I can fix it.” 

After a few more sobs, Natalie finally whispered, “It’s… it’s about the movie.” 

“The movie?” 

Dunn froze, almost in disbelief. 

Who in the film industry would dare mess with Natalie? Even if they didn’t care about her, they’d have to respect him! Dunn’s authority in the movie world was enough to make every friend around him proud to be associated with him. 

Natalie bit her lip. “I just got a call from Hilda. She said… she said…” 

Her voice broke into sobs again. 

Dunn’s temper flared. He didn’t know the details yet, but he was sure of one thing—someone in the industry had messed with Natalie! And that was unacceptable. 

Without a second thought, he grabbed his phone and dialed Natalie’s agent, Hilda Quirly. The moment she picked up, he let loose. “Hilda, are you serious? I handed Nat’s contract to you because I trusted your skills, because I thought you’d take good care of her. And this is your answer?” 

On the other end, Hilda could only manage a bitter laugh. “Dunn, I… you’ve got it all wrong. I fought hard for this, I really did. There’s just nothing more I can do!” 

“What’s going on?” 

“You don’t know?” 

“Just answer me!” 

Dunn’s tone was icy and firm. 

Even Michael Eisner had to back down in the film world when it came to Dunn. He couldn’t fathom who’d have the guts to cross him. Everyone knew Natalie Portman was his girlfriend—who’d dare make her feel like this? 

Feeling the heat of Dunn’s anger, Hilda quickly explained, “Here’s the deal: two days ago, the Minority Report crew sent out a notice saying they’re dropping Nat as the female lead…” 

“Wait!” Dunn cut her off, stunned. “What did you just say? Minority Report? Didn’t she already sign the contract?” 

Hilda sighed helplessly. “Boss, the movie hasn’t started shooting yet. You know how it works—these are just preliminary agreements, no legal weight.” 

“Two days ago? Why am I only hearing about this now?” 

“I’ve been trying to fix it these past two days, fighting to turn things around,” Hilda said with a heavy sigh. “I know how much Nat cares about this movie. She was so excited to work with Spielberg, and she’s been working her butt off. I didn’t want to let her down.” 

Dunn’s eyes narrowed. “So… your efforts didn’t pay off?” 

“Ugh,” Hilda let out a long, frustrated sigh, clearly at her wit’s end. 

Dunn’s brows furrowed, veins popping on his neck. “Who’s behind this? 20th Century Fox? Spielberg?” 

“Neither!” 

“Huh?” 

“It’s Tom Cruise.” 

“What?” 

Dunn couldn’t believe his ears. 

Hilda explained slowly, “Tom Cruise is the male lead for Minority Report. He’s a huge star, the movie’s biggest draw, and his production company’s even chipping in some investment. As a producer, he’s got the final say.” 

Dunn was still reeling. “You’re telling me… Tom Cruise won’t let Nat be the female lead? Where does he get the nerve?” 

“Yeah,” Hilda said, shaking her head. “He’s the star of Minority Report, and the whole film’s built around him. He says he doesn’t vibe with Nat, that they can’t fake a romance on-screen, no chemistry. 20th Century Fox and Spielberg obviously want to prioritize the movie’s quality.” 

“Bullshit!” Dunn exploded, hanging up and slamming his phone down so hard it shattered into pieces. 

Bang! The Motorola phone broke apart on impact. 

“Sweetheart?” Natalie’s soft voice came from his arms as she leaned into him gently. “Don’t be mad.” 

“I’m fine,” Dunn said, patting her back. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of this.” 

Just then, the study door creaked open, and Rose Byrne poked her head in cautiously. Normally, she’d never barge in like this, but the commotion inside was too loud to ignore. 

Dunn waved her over. “Rose, take Nat for some breakfast, then maybe head out for a bit—shopping, a walk, a movie. Or fly to Europe for a few days if you want. Call Penny if you’d like—she can take you guys to Spain to soak in the vibes.” 

“Sweetheart, I…” Natalie started. 

Dunn cut her off with a quick kiss and a pat on the back. “Go on, clear your head. I’ve got this.” 

Natalie pouted but couldn’t resist Dunn’s firm gaze. “Fine, but I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying in LA,” she mumbled. 

Rose grinned. “That works! How about we check out Palm Springs?” 

… 

Once the study quieted down, Dunn’s face darkened, a storm brewing in his expression. 

Tom Cruise. That guy really had a death wish. 

Their beef went back years, starting with the whole Nicole Kidman mess. Dunn had always held back a little out of guilt. 

But now? Dunn’s status in Hollywood was untouchable—way beyond what any actor could challenge. 

Yet somehow, Tom Cruise, with his zero emotional IQ, had the guts to pull this stunt. 

Using his clout to push Natalie out of the cast? That was crossing a line. 

This time, Dunn was done holding back. He was pissed. 

He’d watched Natalie pour her heart into studying that script these past few weeks. 

And now, out of nowhere, the female lead role was gone? 

It was a slap in the face. 

No matter what, he was going to fix this! 

Chapter 367: Passing the Buck 

Half an hour later, Dunn managed to cool off his emotions. Only then did he pick up the phone on his desk and dial a number—Tom Rothman, the CEO of Twentieth Century Fox. 

“Tom, about Nat… you know, right?”  

Dunn’s tone was calm, but beneath that calm, there was a hint of ice.  

Tom Rothman had been burned by Dunn too many times to want to mess with this troublemaker again. He quickly explained, “Dunn, I know about it, but… there’s nothing I can do.”  

“Nothing you can do?” Dunn’s voice carried a touch of mockery.  

Rothman said, “I’m the CEO of Twentieth Century Fox. I have to look out for the company’s interests. And… you know I come from an administrative background. I don’t meddle much with movie content—that’s all handled by the production department.”  

Dunn replied coolly, “So you’re just going to sit there and watch my girlfriend get kicked out of the crew by Tom Cruise?”  

“No, no, no, it’s not ‘kicked out,’ heh, it’s just normal collaboration stuff. Besides… I’ll make sure the crew pays Miss Portman some compensation.”  

Dunn let out a cold laugh. “You think I’m short on cash?”  

Rothman sighed. “Dunn, let me be straight with you. I got word of this two days ago, and my first instinct was to stop it. But I can’t call all the shots alone. Minority Report has seven production companies involved—not just Twentieth Century Fox, but also Tom Cruise’s production company, Legendary Pictures, DreamWorks, Amblin Entertainment, Blue Tulip Productions, and Ronald Shusett & Gary Goodman’s outfit. Their investment is all riding on Tom Cruise.”  

Dunn’s response was flat. “And Steven feels the same way?”  

“He…” Rothman paused. “He probably didn’t object.”  

Dunn gave a cold snort. “Got it!”  

He hung up and immediately called Steven Spielberg, his tone far from polite. “Steven, I need an explanation!”  

“Is this… about Miss Portman?”  

“Sounds like you’re well aware.”  

Dunn’s words dripped with sarcasm.  

Spielberg, one of Hollywood’s most iconic directors and a living legend, wasn’t thrilled with Dunn’s tone. He said gravely, “Dunn, you’re a director too. I always thought… you’d understand this.”  

“Understand?” Dunn scoffed. “I don’t understand! Unless I’m remembering wrong, we agreed six months ago that Natalie would play the female lead.”  

Spielberg replied, “True, I did promise that. But I also said I’m just the director. The biggest production entity here is Twentieth Century Fox—they’re the ones with real decision-making power! We all know Natalie’s your girlfriend, but movies are movies. Her box office draw… it’s not even in the same league as Tom Cruise!”  

“Steven, are you going back on your word?”  

“I never went back on anything. I don’t speak for the whole crew, though, and the crew has to prioritize future profits.”  

Dunn’s lip curled. “I’ve never thought profits outweigh promises!”  

Spielberg adjusted his tone. “Dunn, I’ll say it again—I’m just the director on this project. DreamWorks’ investment share isn’t even as big as Tom Cruise’s production company. So you should know I don’t have much say in this.”  

“Then who does?”  

“Twentieth Century Fox, obviously!”  

Dunn laughed in exasperation. “Steven, you’re playing this deflection game like a pro!”  

“Deflection?”  

Spielberg clearly didn’t catch the reference right away.  

“Hmph!” Dunn’s reaction was icy. “Steven, I’m really disappointed with how you’re handling this!”  

With that, he hung up without a shred of courtesy.  

One Tom Rothman, one Steven Spielberg—both were masters at this game. With all their experience, their skill at dodging responsibility was top-notch.  

After mulling it over for a bit, Dunn decided to confront the core of the issue head-on: Tom Cruise!  

Even now, Dunn didn’t believe Tom Cruise would dare challenge his authority. Maybe the production team just thought Natalie wasn’t right for the lead role and used it as an excuse.  

He called Bryan Lord at CAA and learned that Tom Cruise had jumped ship to ICM three months ago. His new agent was his cousin, Lee DeWitt.  

Dunn got the picture pretty quickly.  

Family agents might seem like they’d take better care of their clients and prioritize their interests.  

But in reality, it’s like a family-run business—more cons than pros.  

Dunn got Lee DeWitt’s number and called her up.  

“Hello, this is Lee. Who’s this?”  

“Dunn.”  

“Dunn?”  

“Dunn Walker!”  

Lee DeWitt’s tone shifted instantly. “Dunn Walker? You… you’re that director?”  

Dunn wasn’t in the mood to chat. “You know about the Minority Report project, right?”  

“Yeah, I do.”  

“Tom Cruise pushed my girlfriend out?”  

Lee calmed herself down, picking up on the accusation in Dunn’s voice. After a pause, she said slowly, “Mr. Walker, this is about the Minority Report crew. It doesn’t really… involve you, does it?”  

“Huh?”  

Dunn was stunned. He couldn’t believe someone in Hollywood still dared to talk to him like that.  

Tom Cruise’s new agent had about as much emotional intelligence as he did!  

“Mr. Walker, I know you’re a big deal, and I can’t afford to cross you. But movie business is movie business, right? It’s all about the rules of the game.”  

Lee might’ve been older, but she was new to Hollywood and had that fearless newbie vibe. “The market decides everything. Tom’s got more pull, more fame, and more influence than Miss Portman. The Minority Report crew should revolve around him, don’t you think?”  

She seemed to think Hollywood’s commercial market worked the same way as the cosmetics marketing world she came from—almost like she was schooling Dunn.  

Dunn laughed despite himself. “So Tom Cruise gets to shove other people aside?”  

Lee said matter-of-factly, “People love Tom more—that’s just the truth. I feel bad about what happened to Miss Natalie… really. Tom’s the male lead, though, and he needs a female lead he can work with. Miss Portman… she’s too tall.”  

“Ha!”  

This time, Dunn couldn’t hold it in—he burst out laughing.  

Natalie, too tall?  

It was the funniest thing he’d ever heard!  

Out of all the girls Dunn had dated, aside from his little secretary Isla Fisher, Natalie was the most petite.  

And yet Lee DeWitt had the nerve to pull out such a ridiculous excuse, saying she was too tall to work with Tom Cruise. What a load of nonsense—wait a sec!  

Tom Cruise’s height…  

Okay, fine. Next to that superstar, Natalie might actually seem tall enough.  

“Mr. Walker, anything else on your mind?” Lee sounded annoyed by Dunn’s unrestrained laughter.  

Dunn shook his head, his voice cool. “I’ll give you one last chance. You’re sticking with this call?”  

“What?”  

Lee was furious now. “Mr. Walker, are you threatening me? I respect that you’re a big-shot director, but if you think you can bully a newcomer like this, I’m not just going to roll over! Don’t forget, I’m Tom Cruise’s agent—and his cousin!”  

Dunn was equal parts amused and irritated. He hung up without another word.  

The free market economy had clearly filled this naive woman’s head with mush.  

Hollywood, a free market?  

Sure, you could say that—until a big player steps in.  

Now that Dunn was personally involved, and this clueless woman was still yapping away, did she really think he couldn’t touch Tom Cruise?  

Yeah, Tom Cruise was a megastar!  

Even if Dunn’s studio wouldn’t work with him, other companies would be tripping over themselves to sign him and kiss his feet.  

Like Spielberg, Tom didn’t have the juice to take Dunn head-on, but he could at least sidestep him.  

What they didn’t realize, though, was how Dunn became Dunn. He had something no one else did—a secret weapon up his sleeve!