Chapter 693: I’m very good at candid photography

After a whirlwind weekend, Martin rejoined the film crew, eager to dive back into the action. Bruce, the resourceful one, had managed to compile a list of clientele from prestigious global travel agencies, including some notable names like Tiger Woods, Will Smith, Jim Carrey, Johnny Depp, and Demi Moore.

Word on the street was that Demi Moore had indulged in a bit of intrigue, hiring a penthouse companion for a rendezvous with her boyfriend, Ashton Kutcher. But amidst the glitz and glam, Martin's attention was snagged by a peculiar name on the list—Charlie Sheen!

"Charlie Sheen? The 'Two and a Half Men' star?" Martin quizzed Bruce skeptically.

Bruce affirmed with a nod, "Yes, indeed."

Martin wasted no time in handing back the list, his tone serious. "Chuck those three business cards out, Bruce. And steer clear of them, especially Mia with the 'ample assets'—better safe than sorry."

Without hesitation, Bruce disposed of the cards, understanding Martin's caution. Despite Charlie Sheen's former fame, rubbing elbows with him seemed a risky proposition, even with the allure of three enticing companions.

As filming resumed, Martin immersed himself in the set, studying Alec Baldwin's cues and seamlessly slipping back into character. But with more actors on set, the chances of mishaps multiplied, leading to a crescendo of frustration from director David Fincher.

Observing Fincher's uncharacteristic ire, Martin approached during a break, eager to share his observation. "David, something struck me as rather amusing."

David, intrigued, quipped, "Oh, do tell. Is it about me?"

Martin chuckled, "Well, it's about the chair you occupy. Seems like it has a knack for turning even the most mild-mannered into thunderous directors."

Fincher couldn't help but laugh at the insight, acknowledging the need to maintain a certain image. "I suppose I should watch my temper, lest I become the set's resident tyrant."

Martin playfully reassured, "Don't worry, David. We all know you're just a cinematic butcher at heart."

As lunchtime rolled around, Martin bumped into Saoirse Ronan in the studio eatery, where she presented him with a homemade treat.

"Irish specialty chocolate, made by yours truly," Saoirse announced proudly, setting the bag on the table.

Martin accepted graciously, a hint of familiarity crossing his features. "This feels oddly familiar..."

Saoirse confessed with a sheepish grin, "Well, you did mention Taylor Swift's knack for spreading cheer with homemade goodies. Figured I'd give it a shot."

Martin chuckled, "Well, you've certainly outdone Taylor in my book."

Their banter echoed through the bustling studio, a testament to the camaraderie that fueled their creative endeavors in the heart of Hollywood.

Saoirse's voice carried a mix of gratitude and determination as she addressed Martin, her mentor. "Teacher, you've been there for me every step of the way, teaching me so much. I can't repay you adequately, but I can craft some chocolates with my own hands as a token of appreciation."

Martin couldn't help but recall the recent fireworks incident Saoirse had instigated with Nicholson. Neither of them were saints; they thrived on stirring up trouble and reveling in the chaos.

"So, another run-in with Emma Watson?" Martin inquired, eyebrows raised.

Saoirse's expression soured at the memory. "Just last week. I was ready to take her on until she called Daniel Radcliffe and Rupert Grint for backup. I couldn't handle the trio, so I had to retreat."

Eyeing the bag of chocolates, Martin's conscience nudged him to intervene. "Try to steer clear of those fireworks and firecrackers if you can. You're not a teenager anymore. Getting caught with that stuff could spell trouble."

Saoirse nodded solemnly. "I hear you, Martin."

But determination flickered in her eyes as she added, "Next time, I'll bait her into striking me first, then I'll give her a piece of my mind."

Martin sighed, shaking his head. "That won't solve anything fundamentally, Saoirse."

Desperation tinged her voice. "Then what should I do, Teacher?"

Martin mulled over the dilemma, recalling some internet gossip from his past life. "I vaguely remember hearing rumors about some of the 'Harry Potter' cast dabbling in drugs."

Saoirse's disbelief was palpable. "Emma Watson? Doing drugs?"

Martin shrugged. "Can't say for sure, but keep an eye out."

Regaining her composure, Saoirse declared, "I'm good at discreet surveillance, Teacher."

Memories flashed of Saoirse's previous attempts at covert filming, including a rather scandalous endeavor involving Christian Bale and Cate Blanchett.

Over lunch, Saoirse divulged her latest pursuits, including signing up for dance and music classes.

Martin, surprised by her dedication amidst her busy filming schedule, remarked, "Impressive. When do you find the time?"

"I manage," Saoirse replied with a smirk. "And I've got the moves to prove it."

Martin was taken aback. "Moves?"

Saoirse leaned in, her enthusiasm infectious. "Forward, backward—the basics. I'll demonstrate for you sometime, Teacher."

"Sure, when I have a moment," Martin agreed, sensing the importance of his role in her growth.

As the lunch break ended, Martin tasked Bruce with keeping tabs on Saoirse and Emma Watson.

Feeling a pang of guilt, Martin confessed, "I'm starting to feel like that old bastard, Jack."

Bruce offered a sobering reality check. "No, Martin. You've always been like this. Nicholson just upped his game after befriending you and Leonardo."

Martin's expression shifted, a mix of resignation and amusement. "Guess I inadvertently raised the bar for fun."

Bruce nodded sagely. "You certainly did, Martin."

With a weary sigh, Martin lamented, "Sometimes, it feels like keeping Jack in line is a full-time job. Heaven and hell both reject him."

And with that, the Hollywood drama continued, each character playing their part in the intricate dance of fame, ambition, and revenge.

After a brief respite with Bruce, Martin received the cue from the crew assistant—it was time to get ready for filming.

Arriving punctually at the set's makeup area, Martin settled into his routine. Over the years, his reputation for unwavering dedication had become legendary in the industry and beyond.

As the afternoon sun bathed the Disney Studios lot, filming progressed seamlessly. The crew wrapped up their work there, leaving behind a meticulously arranged set for upcoming interior scenes.

Transitioning into October, the crew descended upon Langley, Virginia, home to the CIA headquarters. Louise, the efficient producer, had already set up shop, liaising with the CIA's Hollywood liaison office.

Graciously, the CIA granted ample access to the crew for filming around the square and the iconic entrance of the headquarters building. The production team temporarily transformed the gate, adorning it with vintage cars from the 1970s, creating an authentic backdrop for the scenes.

Martin's role in Langley was twofold: portraying a dedicated CIA operative during his daily commute, and later, receiving a medal in a clandestine ceremony. Meanwhile, downtown Washington served as the backdrop for other pivotal scenes, delving into his character's familial struggles and societal pressures.

Although known for his visceral filmmaking style, David Fincher begrudgingly acknowledged the necessity of incorporating familial drama for Oscar contention. It was a departure from his usual penchant for wielding the metaphorical butcher knife, stripping away glamour to expose raw, human truths.

During a break in filming, Cortland, the head of the CIA's Hollywood office, made an appearance, eager to witness the production firsthand. In a moment of camaraderie, he joined Martin and David Fincher for a brief chat.

"In a sea of Hollywood portrayals casting us as villains, your film stands out," Cortland remarked casually, shrugging off past portrayals.

Martin seized the opportunity for a playful exchange. "Any truth to the legends of Jason Bourne and the Stepping Stone Project?"

Cortland chuckled, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "We're always on the lookout for American heroes like yourself to join the ranks."

Martin grinned, his imagination running wild. "Well, if I'm to play the part, I'll need Ethan Hunt's full arsenal of gadgets."

Cortland's tone turned serious. "Believe me, our tech makes Mission: Impossible look like child's play."

David interjected, intrigued. "Any chance we could get a peek?"

Cortland shook his head regretfully. "Most of it's classified, I'm afraid."

Martin, ever the opportunist, made a mental note. "Well, if they ever declassify it and you need to offload some gear, count me in."

Cortland offered a cryptic smile. "Consider it done."

With the CIA's cooperation, filming in Langley and Washington proceeded without a hitch, wrapping up ahead of schedule. Next stop: Istanbul, where a week of filming awaited the intrepid crew.