Duke sat in the his office, in Ithaca's office.
Gary Kurtz was vibrating of excitent. He paced, clutching a paper in his hand like a winning ticket.
"It's a slaughter," Kurtz said in awed. "The R-rating did nothing. If anything, the controversy... helped."
Duke studied the figures on the table. Hacksaw Ridge had planted a flag in the culture.
The weekend numbers were pacing at the sa rythm of Butch Cassidy, a statistical miracle for a war drama released during an anti-war mont in Arica.
"The press split is holding," Duke noted, tapping two morning clippings.
On the left, the New York Tis, "A Masterpiece On Moral Resistance." It praised the film's "haunting exploration of a man´s spirituality triumph over destruction."
On the right, the Chicago Tribune, "The Ultimate Tribute To Arican Values." It hailed a "return to the values that made this country great."
"Two audiences, two different movies, one ticket price," Duke said, a faint smile on his lips. "We turned a pacifist's story into a story, where everyone sees their own version."
"The Lehman Brothers offer is still on the shelf," Marcus said, stepping in. He looked sharp but tired.
"G W's board is ignoring us. They think we're a boutique shop on a lucky streak. And aren't taking the acquisition offer seriously."
Duke stood.
"They're not ignoring us, Marcus." Duke said. He slid the box office report into his briefcase. "We're done waiting. Get things ready. I- no, we're going to New York."
---
The Gulf Western Building was a monolith of dark glass, rising over Central Park.
Duke and Marcus were led into the top-floor suite. The office was chaotic.
At the center was Bluhdorn, shouting into two phones at once. He wore a suit that looked slept in.
"No!" he scread into one receiver. "The Dominicans their sugar harvest will go breat this year! Buy the futures now!"
He slamd it down and grabbed the other. "Sell the equipnt if the mines can't et quota! I don't care what the union guy said!"
He finally looked at Duke. His eyes were wide, and blue.
"Hauser! The wonder boy! What do you want? I have a board eting in twenty minutes."
Duke didn't sit. .
"I'm actually here to talk movies, Charlie," Duke said, his voice calm. "I'm here to talk about your standard deviation."
Bluhdorn paused, hand hovering over a cigar box. "My what?"
"Your stock price," Duke said, turning. "G W is a great company. Hard assets. Auto parts. Minerals."
Duke stepped to the desk, placing the Hacksaw Ridge report atop a pile of receipts.
"And then you have Paramount," Duke continued. "A variable-yield asset that depends on the whims of the audience."
"Every bad quarter in Hollywood drags down your whole empire's P/E ratio. The analysts can't model it, since to them, Paramount isn't an asset. It's a liability."
Bluhdorn squinted at the numbers.
"You just made a fortune for us, Hauser. Why would I sell the goose laying golden eggs?"
"Because you loss the goose, Charlie," Duke said. "You're a commodities man. You like things you can pull from the ground and sell by the ton. Paramount is anything but that."
Marcus stepped forward, sliding a leather-bound folder across the mahogany.
"Asset reallocation," Marcus said. "We offer a clean exit. A Leveraged Buyout. Thirty million cash, upfront, for your future acquisitions. Plus a hundred and twenty million in debt notes, guaranteed by Ithaca, over three years."
Bluhdorn picked up the folder and flipped through pages.
"Thirty million cash," Bluhdorn mused. He glanced at the ticker. "That buys a lot."
But his eyes narrowed. He leaned back, his chair groaning.
"The debt, Hauser. A hundred and twenty million. That's a mountain of debt. Ithaca is young. You've had... three hits? Four? In this business, that's nothing. What happens when the wind changes? How do you serve that debt if the box office is zero?"
"If you fail, I'm left with a bankrupt studio and useless paper.
Duke didn't blink.
"Ithaca isn't just a production house, Charlie," Duke said. "We own the patents for the future of ho entertainnt. Between Atari and our real estate, even if the debt isn't served by movies. We are able to make the paynts cause of the rest of our portfolio."
Duke leaned over the desk, locking eyes with Bluhdorn.
"But more importantly... I'm buying the headache. You want cash to expand. Every day you spend talking with Evans is a day you aren't cornering the zinc market. Let take the noise away for you."
Bluhdorn looked at the thirty million again. In 1970, that was an ocean of cash for a conglorate that was asset-rich but cash-poor like them.
"And the lot?" Bluhdorn asked. "Who runs the studio? You?"
"I'm keeping Evans. After all, he's brilliant but needs a man focused on the company, I provide the capital and the strategy. He provides the execution and it will work. Look at the numbers of our collaborations."
Bluhdorn went quiet.
"Thirty million," Bluhdorn whispered. "And you take the debt."
Duke said. "G W becos a creditor, not an owner. You get a guaranteed yield without the risk of a flop. You tell the board you've streamlined and be a Wall Street hero."
Bluhdorn stood. "I hate the movie business," Bluhdorn said, almost to himself. "I hate the people."
He turned and extended a calloused hand.
"I'll take it to the board. They'll think I'm crazy to sell it to a boy. But they want the cash. If Lehman is willing to voucher for the debt... we have a deal."
Duke took the hand. The grip was iron.
"You're making the right move, Charlie."
"I'm making a move that is good for my company," Bluhdorn corrected. "You're crazy, Hauser. You're buying yourself a mountain of trouble."
"I like the view from the top even if there are so caveats," Duke said.
They walked out into the humid New York afternoon. The city roared around them.
"He's going to do it," Marcus said, breathless. "You just bought Paramount."
"We haven't bought it yet," Duke said, signaling for his car. "We need the board. And we need Lehman to stay firm."
"Where to?"
"The St. Regis to wait. And Marcus?"
"Yeah?"
"Don't tell Evans yet, let him focus on Hacksaw Ridge."
As the sedan pulled away, Duke looked back at the dark tower. He felt the world shift. He was about to own a major studio.
He thought of the future he ca from. The stories he'd tell. The history he'd rewrite.
He sat back and closed his eyes.
---
Short Chapter
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