Chapter 612: Shameless Remarks!

As September unfolded, Leonardo and Nicholson, weary of their European escapades, arrived in New York.

Spotting Leonardo in the studio's entertainment area, Martin couldn't help but jest, "I thought sprinting the 100 meters would trim you down, but looks like you've packed on some pounds again."

Nicholson chimed in, "Forget about it. It takes him 11 seconds to finish a 100-meter dash..."

"It doesn't take me 11 seconds to ride a horse!" Leonardo retorted indignantly. "Jack, you're slandering me!"

Nicholson nodded knowingly, "Fine, fine. Let's say it takes you 17... no, 20 seconds to cover 100 meters. How much energy can you really burn in one go? Plus, most of the time, you're below par!"

Sympathetically patting Leonardo's shoulder, Martin offered reassurance, "Don't worry, you won't balloon up."

Turning to Nicholson, Martin remarked, "You don't look worse for wear at all, despite your month-long wanderings."

Nicholson brushed off the topic, "Let's not dwell on that. But Leonardo wouldn't let it slide,"

"We relocated to the Spanish island of Mallorca, threw a carnival bash, and invited scores of tourists. There was this British footballer who caught the eye of a Russian model, and old Jack was left high and dry," Leonardo recounted with amusement. "I can't help but chuckle at his misfortune!"

"Actually, you've got it all wrong. Look at it from another angle," Nicholson interjected. "The model and the footballer hit it off at this year's Armani fashion show. I merely lost interest and let her go back to him."

Martin, taken aback by Nicholson's audacity, quipped, "Jack, you've got a gift. Ever considered a career at the White House writing press releases for politicians?"

Unfazed, Nicholson retorted, "The truth is the truth. You can verify it with them."

Curious, Leonardo inquired, "Where are your ladies? Was it just a one-time thing?"

"Isn't that the nature of such affairs?" Martin mused philosophically. "As the saying goes, cherish the moment, not the permanence."

Leonardo nodded in understanding, "A memorable experience lingers on."

Martin snapped his fingers, "Exactly. With their liberality, arranging another soirée won't be an issue if the stars align."

Nicholson, ever the instigator, dragged Martin into the banter, laughing, "Natalia's divorced now, and the others aren't tied down. That's the crux of it!"

Impressed, Leonardo applauded, "Jack, you hit the nail on the head!"

The mischievous duo exchanged smirks, prompting Martin to contemplate his retaliation. With a smirk of his own, Martin countered, "Remember when I asked about the Citroën and Tom Hardy? Something fishy's going on there."

Nicholson's interest was piqued, "I read about Tom Hardy getting mugged in Paris. Suffered quite the beating."

Martin pointed to his rear, "Had surgery in District 93 for several hours of sutures."

"And his teeth were knocked out," Martin added, gesturing to Leonardo.

Leonardo chimed in, "The robbers wanted more than just cash!"

"No, no," Nicholson mulled over the situation, scrutinizing Martin. "You mentioned something about checking for 'swallows' among the women in the car. Maybe Hardy's mishap wasn't just a random mugging?"

Leonardo caught on, "So someone wanted Hardy out of the picture to keep us undisturbed?"

Directly addressing Martin, Nicholson asked, "Were there any 'swallows' in the car?"

Arms folded, Martin leaned back, gazing out the window, "Aren't 'swallows' a dime a dozen?"

Leonardo and Nicholson squirmed, feeling as if ten thousand ants were scampering through their hearts, leaving an unbearable itch.

Nicholson broke the uneasy silence first, "Half a lifetime of fame, only to be outshone by a footballer. How shameful!"

Leonardo's voice was barely audible, akin to a mosquito's hum, "My training time for the 100 meters is already 22 seconds!"

Martin offered a comforting gesture to his two pals, "You're both genuine, good-hearted souls."

Curiosity piqued, Nicholson inquired, "Who's this agent?"

Martin replied candidly, "Do you think having a 'swallow' trailing around is of any value to you two?"

Leonardo shrugged, "Unless they're passionate about environmental causes."

Nicholson seized upon the idea, "Could this 'swallow' be one of the four women who've been tailing you?"

Martin nodded thoughtfully, "Quite likely. As the leader of the Coca-Cola Cult, I'm probably more valuable in the eyes of Russia."

Nicholson conceded, "Your political clout eclipses mine and Leo's combined."

Directly probing, Leonardo asked, "Any idea who it might be?"

"Not entirely," Martin confessed, pondering for a moment. "But I highly doubt it's Natalia."

"I've known Natalia for years; it doesn't seem like her style," Leonardo added.

Nicholson weighed in, "I've crossed paths with Natalia countless times. Based on my gut feeling, she's no swallow."

Martin quizzed, "But have either of you ever actually encountered one?"

"No," Nicholson admitted, tapping his temple. "But I can spot a pretender from a mile away."

Martin took their conviction at face value, rising from his seat. "Let's invite a couple of crew members over for a chat. We'll get to the bottom of this."

Nicholson and Leonardo trailed after Martin as they exited the entertainment area and headed towards the training hall, a space rented by the crew for rehearsals and workouts.

Ascending to the second floor, they peered through a glass window overlooking the activity below.

Svetlana, guided by Chen's deputy, a female stunt coordinator, rehearsed action sequences slated for the film.

Nicholson queried, "What's her role in the movie?"

Martin explained, "She's portraying a female assassin. I've got her in a few action-packed scenes."

Nicholson fell silent, observing intently through the window.

After a moment's pause, he suggested, "Let's go down and ask her a few questions about the States and Russia."

Martin chuckled, "You're more like the FBI than the FBI."

Descending the stairs, Nicholson remarked, "Leo's gearing up to play the FBI's biggest bigwig!"

Martin turned to Leonardo, intrigued. "Are you tackling Hoover?"

Leonardo simply nodded, "In Clint Eastwood's 'Hoover' biopic."

Martin pressed, "Aiming for that Oscar, huh?"

"The biopic's definitely for the awards," Leonardo admitted without hesitation. "Missed the mark this year, but I'm gearing up for the next."

Martin saw an opening in the conversation. "This year's Oscars are ripe for the picking, especially with Weinstein out of the picture. Remember your role in 'Shutter Island'? The Academy loves characters with mental health nuances."

Leonardo nodded. "Scorsese pitched it to me as schizophrenia."

"If you invest more in such a role," Martin suggested, "you might just clinch it next year."

Nicholson chimed in, "With the right push, you could snatch the prize, especially if you don't have formidable competition."

Exiting the passage, Svetlana spotted Martin and hurried over. "Hey, you finally found a moment for me."

Martin introduced her to his companions. "Leo, Jack, meet Svetlana. How was training?"

"It's no harder than the modeling gigs back home," Svetlana replied.

Martin noted her resilience. "Sounds like you've been through the wringer in Russia."

"Thankfully, I made it to LA," Svetlana said, drawing closer to Martin. "Fate smiled on me and brought me to you."

"Do you fancy Hollywood?" Martin asked. "Planning to stick around?"

Svetlana nodded eagerly. "I want to stay."

"Then train hard and nail this role," Martin encouraged.

As the break approached, Svetlana gestured to the training ground. "Time for me to hit the grind."

Observing her departure, Martin turned to his friends. "Thoughts?"

Nicholson assessed, "She seems genuine. Years of experience tell me she's got a real hunger for America."

Leonardo inquired, "Where's the other one?"

"Not on set," Martin replied, leading them out. "She and I have scenes to shoot this afternoon. You're welcome to tag along."

Nicholson adjusted his glasses, adopting a detective's air. "This is getting interesting. I'm determined to find this 'swallow.'"

"And if you can't?" Leonardo prodded.

Nicholson's tone turned menacing. "I'll use every trick in the book to ensure you don't even get an Oscar nod this year!"

Leonardo scoffed, "If only you were as adept at spotting swallows as you claim, the FBI would've snapped you up ages ago."

Nicholson laughed, "Come on, Leo! My fee alone could fund the FBI. Can you handle the price tag?"

Martin interjected, patting Leonardo's shoulder. "I'm the one owed here. I've given you a taste of FBI life and roped you into this 'swallow' hunt. It's only fair you compensate me."

Leonardo grinned. "Consider it done. I'll line up supermodels and angels for you, like Cindy Crawford."

Nicholson quipped, "Martin's favorite. He'll be singing your praises."