The Best Movie Actor In Hollywood!

Chapter 106

The instructor assigned to Matthew’s squad led them to the building’s training area to go over the fundamentals of urban special operations. He was from Delta Force and every bit the professional.

“James!” The instructor stood in the middle of the street, yelling at the dozen or so actors divided into smaller groups. “What kind of cover is that?! You're completely exposed, you idiot! Get down!”

The instructor, a man in his thirties who likely found training Hollywood actors to be an amusing gig, was nevertheless dedicated to his job. Within just a few days, he'd learned the names of everyone in the squad he was training with Matthew and James and could even call each of them by name.

The training exercise simulated an advance on a small building, with Matthew and the other actors approaching from different directions according to prescribed tactical movements.

Though they weren't wearing helmets or carrying most of their heavy gear, the actors had started to look vaguely military after a few days of training.

The instructor stood his ground in the middle of the street, observing them and calling out their mistakes. “Ben! Ben Foster! Watch your muzzle! You're pointing your weapon right at the back of Matthew's head! You trying to kill a superior officer?!”

Matthew glanced over his shoulder and saw that Ben was holding his assault rifle at an angle, the barrel aimed right at the back of his head.

“Hey, Ben!” Matthew quipped. “Planning some sabotage?”

Ben quickly corrected the position of his rifle and muttered, “It's my first time doing this kind of training. Give me a break.”

“Contact!” Suddenly, the instructor's voice rang out. “Enemy contact!”Matthew scrambled for the small building, and Ben followed close behind.

The instructor bellowed again, “Stay low!”

Matthew dropped even lower, approaching the front of the building. He took cover behind a low brick wall, aimed his rifle forward, and then gave a hand signal to Ben behind him. Ben was supposed to advance to the next piece of cover, but as he moved past Matthew, he stumbled.

Ben lost his balance and pitched forward, hurtling toward the brick wall right in front of Matthew. His head was aimed straight for the sharp corner of the wall.

Reacting instantly, Matthew shot out a hand and pushed Ben, slightly changing his trajectory.

Ben hit the ground hard, missing the wall, and a muffled groan escaped his lips.

Matthew dropped his rifle, abandoning the drill. He hurried to Ben's side. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I'm okay.” Ben's heart was hammering in his chest. He patted himself down with both hands and repeated, “I'm fine! Really, I'm fine!”

Matthew extended a hand and helped him to his feet. “Be careful.”

Ben stood up and took a ragged breath to steady himself. “Thanks, Matthew,” he said.

He hadn't seen exactly what happened, but he knew. If Matthew hadn't shoved him, his head would have slammed into that wall, and it would have been a lot more serious than a simple fall.

The instructor had seen the fall and shouted over, “Horner! What happened? Anyone injured?”

“We're good!” Matthew looked at Ben, who gave a quick nod. He yelled back to the instructor, “Ben just took a spill!”

The instructor's voice boomed back, “Then get back to it!”

The drill lasted for another hour before they were finally called for a break.

Most of the men collapsed onto the ground in the nearest patch of shade, but Matthew was in good enough shape that the intensity of the training barely fazed him. He grabbed a bottle of water from the supply the crew had provided. Noticing the Delta Force instructor still pacing between the training buildings, likely planning the next exercise, Matthew picked up a second bottle and walked over to him.

“Mr. Brown,” Matthew said, offering the bottle. “Figured you could use some water.”

The instructor's name was Brown Williams. He'd told them he was a veteran with over five years of service in Delta Force.

He'd made a good impression on Matthew. Unlike the stereotypical soldiers portrayed in movies, he wasn't all bluster; instead, he carried himself with an air of exceptional stability.

“Thanks.” Brown Williams accepted the water. “You're not taking a break?”

Matthew shook his head. “I'm not tired.”

“Right, I forgot.” Williams smiled. “You've already been through military training.”

He asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice, “So, do the ex-military guys who train actors make good money in Hollywood?”

“It's not bad,” Matthew replied. “Hollywood is making a lot of movies and shows about modern warfare these days, so it's easy for consultants with real military experience to find jobs.”

In truth, he didn't know much about it and was just speaking in generalities. What he said and what he actually thought were two different things; he'd never heard of many former soldiers making it big in Hollywood.

...

By the end of the day, everyone was covered in sweat and grime.

Matthew's squad had been training some distance from the dorms, so by the time they returned, most of the other actors had already showered and cleared out of the communal bathrooms.

Matthew was in a two-person room, and his roommate was James.

He and James had just gotten back to their room and were gathering their things for the showers when the signature Nokia ringtone suddenly sounded.

“That one's yours,” James said, having checked his own phone.

Matthew located his Nokia, saw Britney's name on the screen, and said to James, “You go ahead. I'll catch up.”

James picked up his toiletries and headed out of the room.

“Hey, babe,” Matthew said, answering the call.

Britney's voice came through the line. “I'm in Yokohama. I just got settled into my hotel room and figured you'd be done with training, so it would be a good time to talk.”

In the hallway outside their room, up on the stairwell landing, Tom Hardy peeked around the corner. He had been keeping a close watch on Matthew and James ever since their squad got back.

A moment later, he saw James and another actor, Ben Foster, heading toward the bathroom at the end of the hall.

“Well?” Jonny Lee Miller stepped up behind Tom, holding a small bag. “Is he out yet?”

“No,” Tom whispered. “I've only seen James. Matthew hasn't come out yet.”

He muttered, “Doesn't that bastard take a shower after training?”

“Just wait a bit longer,” Miller said, his voice calm. “And keep your cool.”

Tom peeked out again. James and Ben were gone, but there was still no sign of movement from Matthew's direction.

Miller, meanwhile, wasn't just standing around. He picked up the bag he'd set on the floor, checked its contents, and asked, “Tom, are you sure about this?”

“Even if we can't get him thrown off the movie,” Tom said, full of conviction, “we can at least humiliate him! And as long as we have this, he'll have to think twice before crossing us ever again.”

Miller nodded.

When he'd signed their divorce settlement, Angelina Jolie had handed over what she claimed was the only copy of the videotape. They had even included a specific clause in the agreement where she guaranteed it was the sole copy and would owe him a substantial penalty if another one ever surfaced.

He wasn't worried about the tape getting out, so he'd readily agreed when Tom made his proposal.

Besides, he was an established star, whereas Matthew Horner was just some lucky up-and-comer. If things went sideways, Tom would take the fall, not him.

...

After finishing his call with Britney, Matthew put his phone away, gathered his toiletries, and left his room. He headed for the bathroom at the far end of the hall. As he approached, he saw James and Ben on their way out. He pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The layout was typical for a communal bathroom: a smaller outer changing area that led into the main shower room.

Matthew found an empty locker for his clothes. Just then, a guy walked out of the shower room; it was Ben Foster.

“Perfect timing,” Ben said, toweling his damp hair. “You've got the place to yourself now.”

Matthew just grabbed his towel and walked into the shower room.

He stepped under a showerhead, and as the hot water cascaded over him, a feeling of relief washed through his body. Matthew couldn't resist a long stretch.

He heard the outer door open and close; Ben Foster must have left.

After returning to his room and dropping off his things, Ben headed out again. The corridor was deserted—everyone was likely exhausted from the day's training—except for two men standing in the doorway of the washroom at the end of the hall.

He recognized them: Jonny Lee Miller, one of the bigger names in the cast, and Tom Hardy, a younger actor at about the same level as himself and Matthew.

Both men were wearing clean clothes, so they clearly weren't there to shower. Then he recalled that they didn't even have rooms on this floor.

While Ben was still processing this, the two men slipped into the bathroom.

Ben's mind immediately flashed to something James had mentioned: that he and Matthew had butted heads with Tom Hardy on a previous film set. Could those two have gone in there to confront Matthew? To jump him, maybe?

He hesitated for a moment.