After leaving the café through a discreet side door, Martin and Bruce made their way back to the Hilton Hotel, deciding to dine at the rooftop restaurant that boasted a panoramic view of the city.
Thomas, Lily, and others were scheduled to arrive the next day, leaving Martin and Bruce to enjoy the evening alone. As they entered the elevator to ascend to the top floor, a waiter in the lobby subtly slipped into a nearby service corridor. He swiftly pulled out his phone and sent a cryptic text message: "Top-floor restaurant."
Choosing window seats in the restaurant, Martin and Bruce were greeted by the spectacular sight of the Washington Monument. As dusk settled over the city, the National Mall lit up, transforming the view into a mesmerizing nightscape.
Gazing at the monument, Martin mused, "This place could use a grand firework display."
Bruce, understanding Martin's metaphor for something more radical than Independence Day pyrotechnics, cautioned him, "Your thoughts are veering into dangerous territory. Are we talking treason now?"
Martin shrugged nonchalantly, "Perhaps it's my roots in the rough neighborhoods. I've always had a passion for stirring things up in America, like dropping a little boy or a fat man."
Bruce, trying to bring some levity to the conversation, reminded him, "Remember, you're a soon-to-be recipient of the Presidential Medal of Freedom. You're a national hero now."
Laughing, Martin retorted, "The Coca-Cola Cult will keep growing in Washington. If you ever come after me, you'll have to get through them first." His tone was clearly in jest.
Bruce chuckled at the dark humor, "Only if you turn into a figurehead like Hubbard."
Martin pondered briefly, "Scientology is a cult, but the Coca-Cola Church is all about integrity, just like my life and my career." He was proud of his achievements, winning an Oscar and the Best Actor award at Cannes with honor.
Their conversation was interrupted by the clicking of high heels. Martin glanced over casually and noticed two women approaching – one in black stockings, the other with long white legs. The latter, Kate, a reporter from the Washington News whom Martin had encountered during his previous visits to Washington, settled at a nearby table before turning towards them.
Kate approached with a friendly demeanor. "What a coincidence, Martin. Congratulations on your recent accolades."
Martin stood to greet her, "Thank you, Kate."
Dressed impeccably in a professional skirt, Kate exuded a Louise-like competence. Her appearance and figure were striking.
Catching Martin's appreciative look, Kate introduced her companion. "This is Rachel, she works in book discovery and publishing."
Rachel extended a firm handshake. "Pleasure to meet you, Martin."
Martin returned the gesture, "Likewise."
Turning to Kate, he asked, "Joining us for dinner?"
Kate, with an air of casual familiarity from their past interactions, replied, "Just treating Rachel to dinner." Then, addressing the group, she suggested, "How about we share a table? Bruce, Rachel, do you mind?"
Martin agreed, "Perfect. I'm eager to hear about the latest from Washington."
Rachel, intrigued, added, "And I'm interested in Hollywood's literary adaptations."
Together, they settled into an evening of engaging conversation, surrounded by the twinkling lights of the capital.
Bruce smoothly shifted to Martin's side, allowing the two ladies, Kate and Rachel, to take their seats opposite them in the upscale rooftop restaurant of the Hilton Hotel. The atmosphere was elegant and relaxed, with soft ambient lighting and the breathtaking backdrop of Washington's skyline at night, providing a serene setting for their dinner.
After Kate and Rachel placed their orders, Martin casually steered the conversation towards the current political climate in Washington, particularly under the new leadership of Guan Hai.
Kate, seizing the opportunity, leaned forward with journalistic curiosity. "You apprehended a spy at Santa Monica Pier recently. Any top-secret details you can share? As a reporter, exclusive news is hard to come by."
Rachel chimed in, noting the pressure Kate had been under at work.
Kate, with a sincere expression, implored Martin for help. "Could you give your old friend a scoop?"
Martin seemed momentarily captivated by their charm. Under the table, a subtle exchange of nudges occurred between Kate and Rachel.
Martin, adopting a serious tone, confessed, "I was terrified in that moment, genuinely feared for my life. The media portrays me as fearless, but in reality, I was driven by a desperate will to survive."
Kate, expecting something more sensational, was taken aback. Martin's confession, while honest, wasn't the sort of revelation that would make headlines.
"Anything else?" she prodded gently.
Martin pondered, then admitted, "Everything else has already been covered by the press."
Kate's disappointment was palpable, though Rachel subtly kicked her under the table, urging discretion. Maintaining a smile, Kate thanked Martin for the exclusive.
The waiter arrived, serving the ladies' meals as the topic shifted to literary adaptations in film.
Rachel, showing genuine interest, inquired, "I heard you and David Fincher are adapting 'Gone Girl'? Since the news broke, the novel skyrocketed on the New York Times bestseller list."
Martin confirmed, "The script is ready, and Fincher's already assembling a crew. We're hoping to start shooting later this year."
Rachel saw an opportunity. "The publishing house I work with has several novels that could be great for film. Interested in taking a look?"
"Absolutely," Martin replied. "Bring them over sometime."
Rachel, seizing the chance for a future meeting, offered, "I'll contact the authors and get back to you. Could I have your number?"
Kate already had his contact information, so Martin readily shared his number. Rachel called, confirming it as his phone rang.
As their meal progressed, Kate, with a bold and alluring demeanor, invited, "How about a drink after dinner?"
Before Martin could respond, a daring gesture under the table caught his attention, a foot in stockings, sliding provocatively against his leg. His gaze turned to Rachel, who offered only a coy smile, leaving the source of the gesture ambiguous.
Martin was almost swayed by the invitation, but then he remembered Neves's earlier warning about the FBI's expertise in entrapment.
At that moment, Bruce, ever perceptive of Martin's predicaments, suddenly coughed, a clear signal to be cautious.
Grasping the hint, Martin excused himself with a smile. "I have urgent work tonight, so I must decline."
Kate's disappointment was evident, her eagerness contrasting with Rachel's composure, who swiftly interjected, "Let's not disturb Martin with his important work."
Realizing her forwardness, Kate self-deprecatingly remarked on her confused state due to work stress.
Martin, ever the gentleman, thanked them for their understanding, gracefully navigating the delicate situation.
In the dim ambiance of the rooftop restaurant, under the table, Rachel's actions grew bolder as her foot ventured further up Martin's leg. She smiled enchantingly, "I'll call you soon to discuss the novel adaptations."
Martin, maintaining his composure, replied with a polite smile, "Looking forward to your news."
As Rachel discreetly withdrew her foot, Martin, in a gesture of generosity, offered to cover their meal. They left the restaurant together but parted ways in the elevator, with Kate and Rachel descending separately.
Inside the elevator, amidst the presence of other guests, Kate and Rachel remained silent. It was only after they exited the hotel and settled into their car that they finally spoke. Rachel, with a sense of disappointment, removed a hidden miniature voice recorder from her jacket. "Nothing useful," she remarked, discarding it.
Kate exhaled deeply, her frustration evident. "He was practically ogling us, but so cautious."
Rachel chided her for being overly forward, especially with the suggestion to visit Martin's room. "Remember, Martin isn't just any man. He's known for his ruthlessness," she reminded Kate.
Kate, suddenly fearful, voiced her concern. "Could he be dangerous to us?"
Rachel reassured her, "We're only here to lure him, not to confront him. You're skilled at this, extracting information through seduction."
Kate, reassured by Rachel's words, agreed to be more proactive in their next encounter, driven by her need to maintain her job and reputation.
As they discussed their plans, Rachel's phone rang. Stepping out of the car for privacy, she answered, "Yes, boss?"
The voice on the other end inquired about their progress. Rachel reported the lack of success but mentioned leaving an open opportunity for future interaction, centered around a literary adaptation project.
In Martin's room, he removed his coat, pondering the evening's events. Bruce, ever observant, commented on the women's clear attempt at seduction. Martin recalled his previous encounters with Kate in Washington, acknowledging the suspicious timing of her advances, especially considering Neves's recent warning.
The next morning, Rachel called Martin, mentioning a potential author interested in adapting their work into a film. Martin, cautious and preoccupied with upcoming events, postponed the discussion until after the celebrations.
Concerned about the intentions of Kate and Rachel, Martin shared their photos with Neves, seeking any background information. Meanwhile, his schedule was filling up, Elizabeth and Lily had arrived, and Thomas and Ari Emmanuel had flown in on the same plane, with an invitation from Rahm Emmanuel in hand.