A_nobody
patreon
Chapter 140: The Mission to Save Agent Sophie
🕑 Added 2024-12-13 17:38:49 +0000 UTCFortunately, there were only some stray cats and dogs in the alley. While they were making noise, they obviously couldn't talk.
If anyone had been there and recognized him, things would have gotten interesting.
After falling, Mel Gibson, who was physically robust, felt as though he had fractured something. Despite the pain, he quickly limped away from the scene.
Soon after Mel Gibson fled, the police followed the trail and located the room.
However, it was long deserted, with no sign of the suspect.
The police had no choice but to seal off the two rooms, leave personnel to guard them, and investigate whether there were any surveillance cameras nearby.
Unfortunately, Mel Gibson had scouted the area in advance, ensuring that no surveillance cameras captured him.
The police quickly informed Sheena Boone about their failure to apprehend Mel Gibson, which left her feeling regretful.
If Mel Gibson had been caught, even without enough evidence to prosecute him, his reputation would have been ruined.
The media companies connected to Disney and Warner Bros. wouldn't have let him off the hook, even if 20th Century Fox—one of Mel Gibson's collaborators—had tried to protect him.
This was not the end of the matter. Early the next morning, Sheena Boone rushed to Melon Manor to check on the situation with Gilbert and Sophie Marceau.
Sophie Marceau gradually woke up to find herself lying on a bed, her legs slightly sore, and wondered where she was.
"Where am I?" Sophie Marceau asked in confusion.
"You're at my house," said a male voice beside her, startling Sophie Marceau.
She turned to see Gilbert sitting on a chair next to her bed.
"Director Gilbert, I..." Sophie Marceau panicked and tried to get up, only to find that her clothes were gone.
As if anticipating her confusion, Gilbert explained, "Last night, after you drank that drugged wine, you clung to me and wouldn't let go, so… well, you can guess the rest."
Lowering her head in embarrassment, Sophie Marceau softly said, "I'm sorry, Director Gilbert. This wasn't my intention. Mel Gibson forced me into this."
"Can you tell me what happened?" Gilbert asked.
Seeing how things had unfolded, Sophie Marceau decided to lay it all out.
She recounted how she deliberately befriended Naomi Watts to get close to Gilbert, as well as Mel Gibson's plan to use the celebration party to harm Gilbert.
She also revealed that she had been coerced by Mel Gibson, who held compromising photos of her, threatening to expose them.
As she recounted her ordeal, Sophie Marceau began to cry, describing how Mel Gibson had mistreated her.
The night before, Gilbert had noticed faint scars on her body and had already suspected something.
Hearing her story confirmed his worst fears, and he couldn't help but curse, "That scumbag…"
Though Gilbert was a womanizer and had his flaws, he always treated his partners with respect and equality.
Despite his reputation, Gilbert never forced himself on women, nor did he resort to any kind of abuse. In contrast, Mel Gibson's behavior seemed downright pathological to him.
"Don't worry, Sophie. Since you refused to give me the drugged wine last night despite his threats, I won't let you suffer any further," Gilbert assured her, patting her shoulder comfortingly.
Soon, Sheena Boone arrived, accompanied by Gilbert's confidant, Anna Singh, and Naomi Watts, who had witnessed Sophie's condition the previous night.
Sophie Marceau was allowed to rest, while Gilbert went downstairs with the others to discuss their next steps.
After hearing Gilbert recount what had happened, the three women—Sheena Boone, Naomi Watts, and Anna Singh—couldn't help but curse Mel Gibson and express their sympathy for Sophie Marceau.
Unlike the British and Italian circles in Hollywood, French actors had always struggled to gain a foothold.
Sophie Marceau, who became France's darling after her debut in La Boum at age 14, was now 29 and eager to break into Hollywood.
However, her ambition to go global had led to unforeseen consequences, and she had paid a steep price, almost being pushed into crime.
"The key now is to figure out how to retrieve those photos," Sheena Boone suggested.
Naomi Watts added, "The bigger issue is whether Mel Gibson has compromising photos of others as well. If there are more victims, we need to find them."
Having narrowly avoided falling into Mel Gibson's trap herself, Naomi Watts shuddered at the memory, her sympathy for Sophie Marceau deepening.
Anna Singh proposed a plan: "First, we need to retrieve the photos and figure out where Mel Gibson is hiding them.
Second, we must protect Sophie Marceau and ensure Mel Gibson feels cornered. After last night's scare, he's probably too rattled to act rashly.
Third, we need to identify other victims. If someone is willing to stand up against him, that would be ideal."
Gilbert nodded in agreement. "Good plan. But who should we entrust with retrieving the photos?"
"I'll handle it," Sheena Boone volunteered.
Gilbert immediately refused. "No way. I can't risk you getting involved. Who knows what Mel Gibson might do?"
Sheena Boone shook her head. "I'll hire someone—a private investigator known as 'Hollywood's Eye.' He's discreet and only cares about the money. Pay him enough, and he can dig up anything, even the color of Michael Eisner's underwear."
"Alright," Gilbert agreed. "Hire him. Money isn't an issue."
As Sheena Boone went to make arrangements, Naomi Watts raised another concern. "With Braveheart about to premiere, Sophie Marceau, as the lead actress, can't avoid the publicity events."
Gilbert hesitated. "What should we do? We can't let her stay out of sight."
Naomi suggested, "Why don't you pretend to be her boyfriend for now? Your reputation can keep Mel Gibson at bay."
"Fine," Gilbert agreed, deciding to take on the role of Sophie's protector.
Meanwhile, Craig Evans, alias "Hollywood's Eye," entered a prearranged bar to meet a new client. A middle-aged man with rimless glasses approached and handed him a photo.
"Investigate him," the man said.
Craig glanced at the photo and immediately recognized Mel Gibson. Pretending to hesitate, he said, "This won't be easy… unless…"
"Unless what?"
"Unless you pay more."
The client didn't flinch, producing a paper bag and handing it over. "Here's the deposit. The rest will be paid upon completion."
Craig quickly weighed the bag, estimated its worth at $200,000, and nodded. "What's the job?"
"Find certain photos—compromising ones. The more useful information you gather, the more you'll earn," the man instructed.
"Understood," Craig replied, burning the photo for security.
Both men left the bar at different times, taking separate routes. To the outside world, their meeting had never happened.
