Chapter 518: Nolan’s Moment!

Commander struggled to maneuver the unconscious Professor Mordecai into the oversized, bulky suitcase. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his muscles tensing with the effort. Beside him, Giselle and her team labored equally hard. The task was monumental, requiring careful manipulation and coordination.

Finally, the deed was done. The suitcase clicked shut, its contents secure.

Giselle's assistant, a woman of sharp features and sharper wits, glanced at her watch. "Time to move," she declared, her voice slicing through the tense air.

Giselle moved to the door, her gaze sharp as she peered through the peephole. The hallway outside lay bathed in the dim, flickering light of the hotel, casting long, ominous shadows. She pressed her ear against the cool wood, listening intently.

The team huddled around the suitcase, their breaths held in anticipation. The assistant, ever vigilant, discreetly pulled out a compact pistol, her eyes scanning their surroundings.

Outside, actors Tom Hardy and Cillian Murphy made their exit, their laughter and chatter echoing down the corridor. Giselle didn't find it odd; their nocturnal escapades were well-known.

Silence eventually reclaimed the hallway. Giselle relaxed slightly, her hand falling away from the door. As she reached for the handle, hurried footsteps approached, causing her heart to skip a beat.

Through the peephole, the familiar face of Nolan's assistant, Anderson, came into view. Giselle knew him well; always at Nolan's side, diligently taking notes.

A knock sounded, sharp and insistent.

"Who is it?" Giselle called out, masking her tension with feigned nonchalance.

"It's me, Assistant Director Anderson," came the muffled reply.

Giselle opened the door a crack, keeping her expression neutral. "The professor is resting. I can't let you in."

Anderson frowned slightly. "That's early. Anyway, tell him Director Nolan wants him on set half an hour early tomorrow. There's a new twist in the centrifuge scene."

Giselle nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Understood."

With a brief nod, Anderson departed. Giselle shut the door, turning to her companions. "Clear," she announced.

The assistant, ever cautious, inquired, "Have we had similar encounters before?"

Giselle nodded. "Twice. Nolan's creativity knows no bounds. It's not unusual."

The assistant suggested a delay, wary of further interruptions. The room fell into a tense silence, mirroring the quiet of the corridor outside.

Meanwhile, Anderson made his way to a secluded area, his back slick with cold sweat. A group of more than a dozen crew members, led by Nolan, awaited him.

Nolan, his eyes intense with focus, questioned Anderson.

"The professor is still in there, but it wasn't him who answered the door. Something's amiss," Anderson reported.

Nolan nodded, his mind racing with possibilities. He turned to his security team. "Four women in that room. Can you handle it?"

With promises of hefty bonuses, the security chief confidently affirmed their readiness. "We're more than equipped to handle them."

Nolan's plan was clear: create a sensational event to skyrocket the movie's intrigue and box office potential. This was more than a simple film; it was a meticulously orchestrated spectacle.

In the dimly lit corridor of the hotel, another security chief stood, his focus unwavering on the tablet in his hand. Through a camera clandestinely placed by Anderson, he monitored every movement at Professor Mordecai's door. Nearby, his team members quietly drew their pistols, meticulously checking each weapon for readiness.

Director Nolan, his expression a blend of determination and caution, motioned to Anderson. "This operation is critical," he stated firmly. "You're on camera duty. Follow them and capture everything. But remember, it's risky, and I won't hold you to it."

Anderson, internally conflicted, realized the weight of Nolan's trust. Climbing the ranks in Hollywood was a challenging journey, and working closely with influential figures like Nolan was the key to success. Determined, he replied, "Director, I'm ready. Leave it to me."

Nolan, satisfied, clapped him reassuringly on the shoulder. "I've always trusted your capabilities."

Emma Thomas, Nolan's producer, handed a DV camera to Anderson, who took it with a firm grip. He cast a glance at the group of formidable men gathered, their presence commanding and intimidating.

Upstairs, in another room, Martin and his associates, Mene and Bruce, engaged in a casual, yet significant conversation. Mene, sipping a cold beer, questioned, "Boss, why let Nolan handle such a high-profile task?"

Martin, ever the strategist, cut him off. "It's Nolan's moment. We shouldn't interfere. This event will draw global attention to the movie. Nolan's not just any director, and I've no interest in stealing his spotlight."

Bruce, understanding Martin's perspective better than Mene, remained quiet. Mene, though puzzled, trusted Martin's judgment, acknowledging his broader vision.

Martin, aware that Mene had initially stumbled upon this situation, cautioned him, "Keep this to yourself once you leave here."

Mene, scratching his head in confusion, tried to make sense of it all.

Martin, seeing the need for clarity, explained, "We brought in Professor Mordecai for his expertise on centrifuges. After this, he's off to Tehran for an academic exchange."

Bruce, connecting the dots, mused about Giselle and her assistant. "They don't seem Arab... Could it be Mossad?"

Mene, familiar with Hollywood tales, caught on. "Mossad, known for their covert operations..."

Martin, with a hint of a smile, suggested that it might not be Mossad after all. "Let's just let Nolan have his moment of making big news."

Bruce, contemplating the implications, remarked, "This could put Nolan on Hoopoe's blacklist, affecting his movie releases there."

Mene, finally grasping the gravity of the situation, half-jokingly threatened to silence Bruce if he spoke out of turn.

Back in the secure passage, Nolan was absorbed in another tablet displaying the hotel's floor plan. His security director, intently observing the camera feed, alerted him, "Director, they're coming out."

Nolan's eyes quickly shifted to the screen. The footage showed four women, a large suitcase in tow, cautiously navigating the corridor, deliberately avoiding the route to the elevator. The plot was unfolding, and each player was deeply entrenched in their role. The air was thick with tension and anticipation, a chess game of intrigue and strategy playing out in the shadows of the hotel.

Nolan, a director renowned for his gripping, realistic crime films, swiftly pieced together the unfolding events. His keen filmmaker's mind rapidly analyzed the situation. "They're heading for the freight elevator!" he deduced, scrutinizing the floor plan with a practiced eye.

The security director immediately grabbed the intercom, urgency in his voice. "Is the freight elevator still operational on the first floor?"

A quick confirmation came from the other end. "Yes!"

Without hesitation, Nolan commanded, "Circle around to the freight elevator. Trap them in there!"

The security director, with a dozen men in tow, sprinted downstairs. Their footsteps echoed through the corridors as they rushed into the passage beside the freight elevator. Arriving just as the elevator ascended, the team prepared to intercept.

Meanwhile, Nolan, with a DV camera in hand, filmed from a distance. His focus was unwavering, capturing each moment like a true director, albeit in an unusual context.

Anderson, camera at the ready, followed, documenting every detail of the operation.

...

In the freight elevator, Giselle and her team stood tensely. The heavy suitcase rested at their feet, its contents a secret they desperately needed to protect. As the elevator ascended, a sense of relief washed over them, but it was short-lived.

The female assistant kept a vigilant eye on the elevator's floor indicator. Their mission had seemed straightforward compared to others - capturing Professor Mordecai with minimal fuss. But as they neared their destination, Tehran's need for the centrifuge expert weighed heavily on their minds.

Just two floors left. "Get ready," the assistant instructed.

Giselle gripped the suitcase handle tightly, prepared to move swiftly. The elevator dinged, its doors sliding open to reveal an unexpected and chilling sight - several black gun barrels and a chorus of stern commands: "Don't move! Hands up!"

Reacting instinctively, the female assistant reached for her gun, but the situation escalated rapidly. The security door burst open, and several formidable men charged in, their pistols trained on the women.

Giselle, bewildered and defensive, began to protest, but her words were cut off by a gun barrel pressed to her lips.

The security director efficiently took control, ordering a thorough search. Hidden weapons - small pistols and sharp daggers - were swiftly uncovered. The trolley case's lock was forced open, revealing the unconscious form of Professor Mordecai.

Anderson, true to his task, captured every moment on camera.

The women were restrained, their hands tied behind their backs. Upon thorough inspection, Nolan was summoned to the scene.

His reaction to the sight of Professor Mordecai was one of shock. "What's happened to him?"

"He's breathing, but appears to be drugged," came the reply.

Nolan, concerned, ordered, "Call a doctor." He then turned to the security director. "Should we involve the police?"

The security director, a liaison from the Moroccan Security Bureau, shook his head. "I'll contact our superiors. They'll handle this."

Nolan, ever the director, delivered a line fitting the dramatic scene: "Thank you for protecting our crew."

The director responded, acknowledging Nolan's pivotal role. "Director, it was your keen observation that led us to thwart their plot and apprehend them."

Nolan, unable to contain his exhilaration, laughed heartily. This was the sensational event he had been waiting for, a story that would surely captivate audiences worldwide. The stakes were high, the tension palpable, and Nolan was at the center of it all, directing a real-life drama that blurred the lines between fiction and reality.