PILOT
EPISODE 101
"WE CALLED THEM GODS"
by
Nate Crowder [email protected]
(970) 413-1332
WGAW Reg: 2206496
TEASER
BLACK - SILENCE - NOTHING...
Something churning, grinding. Louder. Something powerful -
BRAAMM - on steroids.
SMASH CUT TO:
EXT. SPACE
A black hole. The orange accretion disk sparks and churns
around the emptiness of the singularity. Eerie, placid -
violence belching unnatural sounds. Wider — debris fields
orbit the accretion disk. Something was here. Something
large.
MUSIC CUE: Some weird-ass-ethereal space orchestration
providential in tone
Wider - Earth in the distance. Wider - in motion, the moon
and something else approach. It’s a... Megastructure -
sunlight shimmers off many reflective surfaces. Closer -
Glass panels, perfectly adjoined into a truncated
icosidodecahedron. Squares, hexagons and huge decagons, make
the translucent shell. It tumbles like a glass soccer ball,
streaks of light reflect and linger on each panel until it
spins from view.
Closer - closer and through a decagon - A flash of white
light - blurry, fades and... What in the actual...?
A light floats in its center. The interior surface lined
with green pastures, rocky terrain, lakes, deserts... It’s a
habitat, a mini-planet stuck on the inside of this insane
thing. Orienting to a grass field. Lush forest ahead.
And... the ground shakes - POUNDS - faster, louder. A herd of
buffalo? Or strange alien horses. Purple and brown in color,
stout. Hundreds run past.
Pristine, untouched, Eden.
Something ahead hovers a meter off the grassy ground - a big
green... uhhhh... thing. A blob? About 5m tall - Nope,
correction - this thing is more than a blob. Arteries and
veins undulate on its surface. IT BEATS, LIKE A HEART, IT IS
ALIVE - Something inside, something pushes, the membrane
thins - About to break through - SUDDENLY - a flash of neon-
green light prevents any further inspection.
SMASH CUT TO
Genres:
["Sci-Fi","Mystery"]
Ratings
Scene
2 -
The Violent Anchor
INT. STORAGE UNIT — NIGHT
Hands wrap thick wire around the positive terminal of a car
battery. Thirty more wired in series. Lines running back to a
concrete wall.
RAY KIND — 50s, Black. Bloodshot eyes, ghost-white wild afro.
Salvation Army everything.
A string swings overhead — flickering orange bulb. Distorted
shadows on concrete.
Ray's eyes find JOHN JONES — 45, white. A man who doesn't
belong here. Button-up, slacks, shoes that cost as much as
Ray's car. A Rolex pushes the total north of sixty grand.
Ray unravels jumper cables — clamps to the battery, clamps
the other ends to a curved copper piece shaped like a
yarmulke.
John unbuttons his shirt. Folds it. Removes the Rolex.
Reaches for his left ring finger. Nothing there. Lingers.
Ray picks up a glass of chunky gray liquid.
RAY
Your first Violent Anchor?
JOHN
No.
Ray lowers the cap onto John's head. Chin strap secured. John
bites down on a leather belt. His eyes settle. Unfazed.
Confident. He has done worse.
Ray flicks the generator on.
ZZZAP. John's head snaps back. Convulsions. Then nothing. He
is dead.
Mesmerizing — closer — closer — through a pupil —
INTO HIS CRANIUM. A green, wispy structure undulates above
the gray matter. Tendrils harden into dark-green claws. It
separates gyri. Its ravenous. Searching.
It finds what it needs. Lashes in. Goes taut.
Yellow bioluminescent circuitry pulses through the green.
ACT I
Genres:
["Sci-Fi","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
3 -
Revival and Revelations
INT. STORAGE UNIT — CONTINUOUS
SUPER: Oklahoma City, 2027
Ray calmly wheels over a cart with medical supplies. He
kneels over John. Checks watch. No hurry.
Scoots a thin pillow under John’s head. Jabs a syringe in his
arm - opens a defibrillator, frees the paddles, squirts gel,
rubs them together, flicks the switch —
HIGH PITCH HUM — charging — Paddles to chest. John jumps.
Head falls — THUD — on the pillow, which fails spectacularly
at its job. Ray waits for the next charge. Patient as a man
in line at the bank.
WEEEZ — ZAPP — jump — THUD. Third round. WEEEZ — ZAPPP ...
GASP.
Life floods in. GROAN. John clutches his head. GRUNT. Shakes
it, checking for loose parts.
RAY
You get it?
John nods
RAY (CONT’D)
Good. It'll stop The Bleed. But
next fews days will be strange.
BAMM — RATTLE — RATTLE.
The aluminum door swings open and a huge man walks in
backwards, dragging something with each arm. He slides the
bundles across the floor, closes the door.
The bundles are obviously human bodies. Bedsheets. Duct tape.
LEE — 30s, white, ginger flat-top, blood-spattered black
duster. Wild blue eyes. A grin like a jack-o-lantern that's
been at it too long.
LEE
Anyone down for some Slurry!
John's face: Would rather pass. Ray's face: nothing.
Genres:
["Sci-Fi","Thriller","Horror"]
Ratings
Scene
4 -
Descent into Disorientation
INT. JOHN’S BATHROOM - DAY
John atop the throne still dressed as the night before. He
grabs his forehead - uncomfortable wince. He looks around -
disoriented - takes a deep breath and reaches under the sink,
digging around. Wood moving - CLACK - CLACK. A hidey hole. He
pulls out a black pouch - sits on the throne - ZIP - out come
the goods.
A prescription bottle labeled "Ambien." He slaps a few in his
mouth - chews.
Next - a full syringe and a rubber tourniquet. A glance
inside the pouch reveals a big Ziplock full of white
crystals, another with powder.
QUICK CUTS:
- Ties tourniquet with his teeth - bites off syringe cap
- Nice juicy vein in the antecubital space
- Needle pierces skin then vein - plunges solution in
JOHN POV: The room starts to buck like a bronco - faster -
vibrations - Concrete wall of the storage unit - flash -
bathroom wall - flash - inside a house -ZAP - sounds of
electricity - HUMMMMMMM - The sound of a creaky couch. White
light blinds everything. Slowly is darkens - focus.
Genres:
["Sci-Fi","Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
5 -
Desperate Measures
INT. LIVING ROOM — NIGHT (16 YEARS AGO)
Close on a couch - then a middle-class living room. END POV.
A younger John sits on a couch - it CREAKS as he adjusts his
position. He looks disoriented, grabs his forehead.
John is noticeably younger, 30.
John clocks the TV - DENVER NEWS - MAY 7, 2011
Next to him, his wife — SARA, 30, white. Brunette. Her gaze
fixed on AMBROSE — M, 50s, white — sits in the adjoining
loveseat. Ambrose in an expensive gray suit, red tie. He owns
any room he enters. Gravitas.
John's hand finds Sara's. His face full of sadness and
desperation. He turns to her — that familiar affect. Ray's
flat demeanor but worse. Her eyes stare into the void, facial
muscles slack, dark bags under her eyes.
JOHN
Honey, did you hear what Ambrose
said? He may be able to help.
John takes her hand, holds it to his chest.
JOHN (CONT’D)
Honey?
Sara comes to.
SARA
Uhh. Did you say something?
JOHN
Ambrose can help.
Sara looks at Ambrose. Yanks her hand from John's.
SARA
Ambrose my ass. You know who he is.
Why is he here? You're not welcome
here. Go!
Ambrose radiates a calm that could end wars.
AMBROSE
John called me. You need my help.
Whatever differences we share — I
could never not be here for you.
You know this.
Sara loses her grip on reality again. Back to the void.
JOHN
Can you help her?
AMBROSE
Yes. But.-
He looks down.
AMBROSE (CONT’D)
The Bleed is new, we don’t have a
cure yet, but I have hundreds of my
best working on it.
John looks up with surrender on his face.
JOHN
How long?
AMBROSE
Years.
JOHN
She doesn't have years.
AMBROSE
No. She doesn't. Weeks at best.
She'll need stasis.
Tears run down John's cheek.
JOHN
No. No. I can't lose her again.
AMBROSE
Brother — how many times have we
lost one another?
John looks away.
AMBROSE (CONT’D)
We always find our way back.
John looks out the window into the snowy moonlit night.
JOHN
This house. This was going to be
our forever.
(shakes his head)
But this — this I did not see
coming.
He gestures to Sara - She stares at nothing.
AMBROSE
Nobody could.
A 4-year-old girl appears in Dora the Explorer pajamas,
Cinderella blanket in tow. BETH.
Ambrose clocks her. His zen evaporates. A rare crack in the
facade — utter shock — he processes — regains composure.
AMBROSE (CONT’D)
(fascinated)
She's yours? Yours and Sara's?
John gives him a look that hits like a .45f
AMBROSE (CONT’D)
Not anymore. Not for some time.
John goes to Beth. Picks her up.
JOHN
Baby lady — you are supposed to be
asleep.
BETH
I got hungry. My tummy's growling.
John smiles.
JOHN
Go back to your room, wait five
minutes, and I'll bring you
something. Deal?
She considers this with appropriate gravity.
BETH
Peanut butter crackers?
John nods.
BETH (CONT’D)
Deal.
He puts her down. She pads back to her room. John watches her
go, then turns to Ambrose with eyes like daggers.
Sara comes to. Clocks Beth passing Ambrose. Loses it
entirely.
SARA
Don't you touch her. Why are you
here? GO!
She lunges. Beth screams and runs back to her dad, wraps
around his leg like a monkey. John gently restrains Sara with
Beth still attached to his shin.
JOHN
He's here to help. Everything is
okay.
SARA
(panic)
He saw her, John.
AMBROSE
Yes. You didn't hide her
particularly well, did you?
A chuckle. Then softer.
AMBROSE (CONT’D)
All right. Calm down. We've moved
past that. We have new methods you
wouldn't believe. She is of no use
to us. And even if she were...
He looks at Beth — still fused to her father's leg.
AMBROSE (CONT’D)
She is my niece. The most beautiful
girl in the world. How could I...
Beth grimaces at Ambrose. He responds with a smile that could
melt a glacier. John kneels down. Eye level with Beth.
JOHN
Everything's okay. Off to bed. I'll
be in soon.
Beth looks at her mother — vacant, gone. Her face droops -
lumbers back to her room.
John straightens. Looks at Ambrose with total and complete
surrender.
JOHN (CONT’D)
Take her. Please. Help her.
AMBROSE
I will, brother. I will.
Ambrose dials. Speaks quietly.
AMBROSE (CONT’D)
She's ready.
Seconds later — the front door. Two large MEN enter. One has
a syringe. Before he can inject, Sara comes to — screams,
kicks. The second man pins her arm. The needle goes in.
John turns away. Tears streaming. Sara's screams fill the
room.
SARA
John!! JOHN!! Help me!
Ambrose puts a hand on John's shoulder.
AMBROSE
You did the right thing. This is
her best chance and you know it.
JOHN
Just take her. I can't...
Ambrose directs his men out. Sara's screams recede.
SARA
(fading)
John... Please...
Silence. A long pause.
AMBROSE
Your daughter is beautiful. Perhaps
I could meet her properly sometime?
John gives him a look that would kill most men.
JOHN
Just help my wife.
Ambrose nods and leaves. The energy in the room collapses.
John wipes his face. Takes a breath.
Beth stands peeks from behind a wall — tears in her eyes. She
saw the whole thing - turns and quietly drags her blanket
back to her room.
The floor drops out. Electricity. A flash of bathroom. Gone.
Genres:
["Sci-Fi","Drama","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
6 -
Echoes of the Past
INT. JOHN’S BATHROOM - DAY (2027)
Arm still antecubital up. He shakes his head.
JOHN
(to himself)
Fuckin hell.
He clocks the empty syringe on the ground, picks up his gear.
Looks at his watch.
JOHN (CONT’D)
(to himself)
Nine! 2 hours. Shit.
INT. JOHN'S HOUSE — CONTINUOUS
John enters a high-ceilinged entryway, turns left into a
beautiful kitchen.
A breakfast nook - a young woman rocks out through earbuds,
head-bangs while attempting to eat scrambled eggs.
Half the eggs make it to her mouth. The other half are in her
hair.
BETH — 20, wild-haired, Faith No More T-shirt, an ESP star-
shaped red guitar leans against the table. She is metal.
John watches from the doorway — clearly entertained.
His eyes drift to the counter. A box of Fruity Pebbles.
Something moves across his face. Gone before you can name it.
Beth looks up. Earbuds out. Her eyes... they hold in
something fierce.
BETH
Out all night? Aren’t you a bit old
for that.
Beth is a bit of a smart ass. But her body language and tone
conveys comfort and love.
JOHN
Thank you for that. But, as always,
you are right.
Beth’s eyes relax. They chuckle.
Beth approaches John - picks up her guitar on the way.
BETH
Got a gig tonight. Eight o'clock at
The Hammer.
She riffs. In a guttural metal growl:
BETH (CONT’D)
WITH THY AXE —
(re: guitar)
I SHALL EVISCERATE THE INNOCENTS. IMPALE THE HEARTS OF
INFIDELS AND VIRGINS. ODIN COMMANDS ME SO.
MEMORY HIT:
John in a dim, horrible place. Lee in a black, bloody apron,
hunched over — digs inside an eviscerated body. Yanks out the
heart. Holds it toward John in an offering pose. Smiles with
yellow, grimy teeth. Blood drips.
BACK TO SCENE
John goes pale. A slight gag.
She studies him head to toe.
BETH (CONT’D)
You look like shit, Dad. What’s
going on?
JOHN
Nothing. Nothing.
Beth looks annoyed by the lie.
BETH
Wh—
JOHN
(cutting her off)
Nothing to worry about. Okay?
Beth shoots a dirty look. Then a fake 'whatever'gesture.
BETH
Good luck with
(gestures him head to toe)
Whatever this is.
A long silence - Shame crosses John's face. Beth turns toward
the door. She stops. Grabs her guitar case — covered in
stickers. On one face: a hand-drawn sketch of Sara, and
beneath it in Beth's handwriting: 'RIP MOM 1984–2016. My
music is yours’
Her back to John, she loads the guitar and straps the case
on. Turns now with only love and concern. An tense silent
moment. She turns and with love.
BETH (CONT’D)
Get some rest. OK?
John nods.
BETH (CONT’D)
Love ya.
JOHN
Love you too. Now go. Kick ass. We
don’t want to anger Odin.
Beth answers with a confident smirk.
A beat. They share a look — tungsten-bond, shared weight,
shared history. Two people who've held the same grief.
Satisfied, she leaves.
INT. JOHN'S LIVING ROOM — CONTINUOUS
$300,000 in furniture. John moves to the wall above the TV
— a fingerprint scanner, hidden in plain sight. CLICK —
CLICK. TV swings out. A door.
Genres:
["Drama","Sci-Fi","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
7 -
Dysfunctional Family Reunion
INT. JOHN'S CENTCOM - CONTINUOUS
Five serious hacker rigs. Seven or eight screens. Mr. Robot
on steroids. A Romanian hacker’s wet dream.
John sits, swivels his chair to the center console.
Rests his palm on a circular sensor. A holographic Earth
emits above the table.
He spins the globe, stops it on Africa. Pulls hand back —
Earth shrinks - Earth orbit above central Africa. A blueish
flash, a beam - More blue beams emit from the same place on
the surface.
John's eyes light up.
JOHN
Gotcha. Here we go.
A mischievous smile.
JOHN (CONT’D)
Time for a dysfunctional family
reunion.
John sits and boots the stack. Screens light up in rapid
succession:
SCREEN 1: A high-end dark-net weapons ledger. A massive
crypto transaction completes. The banner at the top features
THREE CUNEIFORM SYMBOLS:
SCREEN 2: A cargo manifest flashes: ITEMs: C4 EXPLOSIVES. 40
ATTACK DRONES. DESTINATION: BLACK COUNTRY, UK.
SCREEN 3: An MI5 secure tip portal. John hits 'SEND' on an
anonymous file.
SCREEN 4: The file opens on John's end—a surveillance photo
of a bearded man: DRAMMAD KASSAR.
He opens a video call. FRENCH — 40, African American, thick
glasses, lab coat — answers from a high-tech lab.
Big windows reveal a snowy mountain landscape.
FRENCH
Hey. How did it go?
JOHN
Wonderful. Death by electrocution —
overrated.
FRENCH
You feel tuned in?
JOHN
Maybe - but...
FRENCH
But what?
JOHN
Nothing I can’t handle.
Silence.
FRENCH
Lucid flashbacks. Time loss. Just a
guess
French looks sad.
JOHN
Doesn’t matter. FRENCH. He started
FRENCH
Shit.
She looks terrified.
John takes a breath. Leans into the screen.
JOHN
He's going to burn it, All of it.
Everything.
John catches her eyes with his and locks on.
JOHN (CONT’D)
(not negotiable)
You have a day.
That sits.
FRENCH
A day?
JOHN
Yes. Same plan, I bring the kid to
you. Just one little change.
A beat.
FRENCH
What?
JOHN
Picking up 4 more friends along the
way.
FRENCH
Oh. 4? Okay. And the kid? Are you
sure it’s him?
JOHN
You focus on the machine. I got the
kid.
An orangutan knuckle-walks behind her. She glances back.
FRENCH
(optimistic)
I just sent Louie through.
(re: orangutan)
So far so good. It’s ready.
SUDDENLY — Louie erupts in an angry guttural growl. Full
offensive posture. Scientists appear with a syringe — before
they intervene, Louie simply stops. Lies down. Snores.
JOHN
What the fuck?
FRENCH
(not confident)
Oh, that. That's nothing. Louie can
be moody. All is well. It's fine.
John gives her an 'oh fuck' look. Then his the steel returns.
JOHN
I believe in you, French.
FRENCH
I know. And it'll be ready.
They share a look. A bond. A beat - tension drops.
FRENCH (CONT’D)
I hope you know what you are doing?
He gives a a stone cold look of confidence. Ends call.
He goes to a console. Types. Screen shows flight manifest -
One name is clear - KEMP ALBURN -
JOHN
(to himself)
Sorry brother.
John opens a terminal. Enters short script and the screen
lights up red. Reads: WARNING: MULTIPLE NODES OPEN. SECURITY
COMPROMISED.
JOHN (CONT’D)
(to himself)
Come and get me.
John's POV: Flash - The storage unit again. Belt clinched in
teeth below - elctricity- buckle jingles, vibrations - flash
needle in the arm up close - blurry. the sound of a big car
engine - REVVVVV.
Genres:
["Sci-Fi","Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
8 -
High Hopes and Dark Realities
INT. CAMARO - DAY (NORTHERN COLORADO, 1999)
A CD case with huge lines of meth - straw glides - SNORTA
shaky blurry. END POV
A young man's face. It's JOHN JONES (18) and this younger
counterpart is certainly displaying junkie satisfaction. Eyes
wide, huge smile. Dressed like Jesse Pinkman.
JOHN
WOOOO. Motherfuckers. Jesus this
shit hits dude. Fuuhhhyuck.
Young John’s face holds rage - amber eyes like a fighting
dog.
John is passenger. Driver is DAVE YUN, 19 ,Korean American -
a kind face, friendly - sports a T-shirt and Levis. Goofy
vibe.
DAVE
Pass that shit bro.
John hands over the case. Dave steers with his knees to
SNORT.
DAVE (CONT’D)
FF-UHH-KING A! Damn.
Dave shakes his head. Big smile.
DAVE (CONT’D)
Your dad can cook.
John smirks.
JOHN
Got some VIP coming over tonight.
Cartel connect. Deep pockets.
DAVE
Well fuckin a man.
The Camaro flashes in and out. The voltage pulls him back.
INT. JOHN’S CENTCOM - (2027)
Faint -BEEP- - BEEP- The image comes into focus. John’s head
rests on keyboard. He comes to. Shakes the cobwebs out.
JOHN
(to himself)
For fucks sake.
The room slowly goes dark.
Genres:
["Drama","Crime","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
9 -
Ambrose's Calculated Pursuit
INT. UNDERGROUND BUNKER — CONTINUOUS
Carved rock. Cathedral-scaled. A hollowed out mountain - a
marvel.
AMBROSE — new vessel, 30s, British Indian — reclines on a
leather couch, phone in hand, face lit blue by its glow. A
razor-sharp gray suit, red tie. Elegant even in a cave.
He watches a 3D holographic Earth rotate - a wormhole - The
planet comes apart. Resets. Comes apart again.
A TECHNICIAN — 40s — appears.
TECHNICIAN
Sir. We have a signal.
Ambrose doesn't look up.
TECHNICIAN (CONT’D)
Two, actually.
Hands him a device. Studies screen.
Something crosses his face — not quite a smile. The
satisfaction of a proof completing itself.
AMBROSE
My two little birdies.
He straightens his tie.
AMBROSE (CONT’D)
Where?
TECHNICIAN
WILL ROGERS AIRPORT.
AMBROSE
Where the fuck is that?
TECHNICIAN
Oklahoma sir.
Ambrose - quick glance at the holographic Earth. The planet
rips apart.
AMBROSE
Send a team. Capture Kemp, kill the
rest.
TECHNICIAN
What about John Jones?
AMBROSE
I have something special planned
for him.
END ACT I
ACT II
Genres:
["Sci-Fi","Thriller","Action"]
Ratings
Scene
10 -
Morning Prep for Wet-Work
INT. KEMP’S BEDROOM - DAY (BIRMINGHAM, UK 2027)
Easing back - a dark-cobalt iris - an eye - a man’s face
takes shape. KEMP ALBURN, 50’s, Black-British, a rugged Alpha
with serious gravitas.
Kemp sits up, puts his face in palms, rubs eyes, stands, and
yells out:
KEMP
(Brummie-Baddass-Peaky-
Blinders accent)
CADE, wake the fuck up you. Got
work!
CADE (O.S.)
(same badass accent)
Ok pops, give me a bit... Fuck.
CADE, mid-20s Black-British. Kemp’s son, total badass.
The OLD HOUSE is pretty run-down.
They meet in the KITCHEN for breakfast and eat like prisoners
- fast, efficient.
CADE (CONT’D)
What's the job?
KEMP
Wet-work for our MI5 mates.
CADE
They can't do anything anymore.
KEMP
Don’t want their donnie’s dirty.
Phone - BEEP - Kemp checks.
KEMP (CONT’D)
MI5. Target in the Black Country.
Let's get strapped.
KEMP'S ROOM — lockbox from under the bed. Inside: guns,
knives, grenades. Badass shit. Buckle up...
MUSIC CUE: “METAL GODS” by Judas Priest
- Kemp puts on black combat pants and a tactical vest -
secures various blades in pockets - the KNUCKLE KARAMBIT is
the filthiest
- Sounds of zippers and Velcro find the rhythm.
- He removes two handguns, a SIG SAUER P228 M11-A1 and a
GLOCK 19.
- CADE puts on his camo combat pants and tactical vest. His
choice of blade is a COLD STEEL MAKER PUSH DAGGER. For guns-
a BARETTA 92, and CZ 75
- They place their guns on the desk - side by side
- At otherworldly speed, they tear the guns down - a blur.
- Lay components on a soft towel - clean
- Reassemble gun components in unison - like it’s a race -
again, the speed - supernatural.
- The sound of gun-metal as it engages - CLICK - CLICK -...
Synchronized in beautiful rhythm with the music of their
Birmingham brethren - Judas Priest.
“Mehhhhhtal Gahhds....”
END MUSIC
A wallet-fucking trailer, eh?
Genres:
["Action","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
11 -
Target Acquisition
EXT. GRASS FIELD — DAY
A black van under trees. In the distance an abandoned 4 story
TENEMENT.
INT. OP VAN - CONTINUOUS
Kemp and Cade screw silencers on guns. A third man, ZAZ a
pale, skinny, Welshmen about 40, at a console. He has a Boba
Fett T-shirt on and thick horn rimmed glasses. A grey Tabby
cat on his lap. --MEOW--
ZAZ
(very Welsh)
Hungry. Is it? Ate, you did. Got
work.
Zaz types at unnatural speed. Script flies down the screen
reflects green off the inside lenses of his glasses.
Screen: three human shaped heat signatures.
ZAZ (CONT’D)
Gents.
Kemp and Cade go to look.
ZAZ (CONT’D)
Got three goons low.
Pan
ZAZ (CONT’D)
Second floor four.
Pans up. Orange human and something red-hot.
ZAZ (CONT’D)
Third is the big turd and a hot
turd.
Cade winces. Zaz types.
Screen: picture of a white man about 30. Looks like a
shitface, bad hygiene loser.
Meet WILLIAM CORNCHESTER. Born in
Yorkshire. Radicalized in school.
Now he goes by DRAMMAD HASSAR,
Cade laughs.
CADE
Willy Cornchester fancies himself a
terrorist.
ZAZ
He is middle man, drone runner.
CADE
Why MI5 need us then?
KEMP
He like to blow shite up. Target
now is a school in the black
country.
CADE
Ok. A real scumbag.
(to the screen)
Willy meet death.
Kemp and Cade put on night vision. Flip up. Out they go.
Genres:
["Thriller","Action","Crime"]
Ratings
Scene
12 -
Shite Bomber Showdown
EXT. A FOGGY FIELD - CONTINUOUS
A hundred yards out - the run-down abandoned TENEMENT.
Then — POOF — Kemp and Cade fly through fog at otherworldly
speed. Kemp raises his hand — lights out.
QUICK CUT: IN VAN. ZAZ clocks KEMP. Pushes a key. BACK TO
SCENE.
Backs to the door. Cade's face lights up. A quick 'it's on
now' look to his dad. Synchronous pull-down of night vision —
they enter.
CADE POV: Night vision — CZ fires — THWIP THWIP THWIP — three
bright green corpses.
CADE
Clear.
KEMP POV: SIG fires — CLACK CLACK — two more green corpses.
KEMP
Clear.
Up the stairs. Windows. Light. Night vision off.
BACK TO SCENE
A hallway. Kemp: left. Cade: right.
Cade breezes the hall. Two goons — smiles, switches to
blades, dash — a blur - slash - neck opens. Blood. Hand
chokes its own neck. Fails to stop spurting. Goon down.
Next goon rushes high. Cade goes low. Double push daggers:
bilateral-simultaneous-Achilles penetration. Twist - CRUNCH -
twist - CRUNCH - daggers out. Blood and shredded tendon.
GOON
FUCK!! AHHH! FUCK! FUCK!
Cade stands. Tosses a dagger up - mid-air catch - stabs into
neck all one motion. Twists it, turns it. - SQUISH - pulls
it. And.. THUD — two dead men on blood-soaked carpet.
Two more run into view. CLACK — CLACK. They fall. Kemp
appears, clocks Cade's mess.
Cade holds up blades, gives a 'you're a puss' shrug. Up the
stairs. Kemp holsters. Shows Cade his blades. An 'okay son,
watch and learn' smirk.
Two men exit rooms — one ahead, one behind Kemp. Clocks first
then second.
Kemp spins a knuckle karambit on each hand at his waist level
— a blur.
One graceful step - drops to a knee - closes his eyes - back
to one goon, front to other. They rush him. His wrists
explode in perfectly controlled 90-degree turn — SLICE — an
ancient violence.
Blood - an Adam's apple stuck to a blade. Both goons hit the
floor, hands over necks, choking, dying.
Kemp flings the cartilage from blade — blood spatter and
tissue blur everything. Chunks slowly ooze down. - PLOP -
Clear.
Drammad sits at a computer, boxes of drones stacked close by.
His thumb on the trigger of a bomb detonator.
DRAMMAD
I will blow this fuckin place!
KEMP
Really? You'd just blow it all up?
Not very memorable, now, is it?
(to Cade)
Would it, son?
CADE
See? We don't exist in the eyes of
the British government, it'll be
written up as some wannabe
terrorist who blew hisself up and
shat his pants.
(pause)
'Shite Bomber' would be the
headline.
They laugh. Drammad doesn't.
KEMP
Son. That was... ok.
CADE
(proud smile)
Ya. See what I did there?
DRAMMAD
You're insane!
KEMP
(leaning on wall and
deadpan)
Most definitely.
Cade clocks detonator.
CADE
Is that a dead man's trigger,
Willy? Can I call you Willy?
Drammad is an arse name. I’m gonna
call you Willy.
He looks around.
CADE (CONT’D)
So — where's the bomb, Willy?
Drammad's eyes flick involuntarily to the room behind him.
Cade tracks it. Smiles.
DRAMMAD
If I let go —
CADE
Yeah yeah. Boom. We get it.
Cade walks into the room. Returns with three sticks of C$
with receivers. He juggles them, slow at first.
DRAMMAD
STOP! You'll kill us all!
KEMP
(trying not to laugh)
Son. Don't kill us.
CADE
Won't be like last time. Promise,
Pop. I've been practicing.
KEMP
On what? I don't have C4 lying
around the house.
CADE
Chocolate Bars. Big ones.
Tosses one Stick of C4 up. Catches it. Two. Nearly drops one.
Drammad looks woozy.
CADE (CONT’D)
Okay, okay. I think I feel the
weight now. Not chocolate bar.
DRAMMAD
Please! I have information! I can —
CADE
Too late, Willy.
Cade runs at Drammad. Squeezes his hand around the trigger
Shoves his wheeled chair toward window, c4 dropped in his lap-
and - CRASH -through the third-floor window. - BOOM BOOM BOOM
- Drammad explodes before he hits the ground.
Kemp and Cade look down at the mess.
KEMP
You think he soiled hisself?
CADE
'Shite Bomber.' Eh?
KEMP
Shame we'll never have proof.
CADE
It's the unknowing that keeps me up
at night.
Cade snatches a SSD out of the computer on the way out.
Genres:
["Action","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
13 -
Chasing Shadows
INT. RANGE ROVER - CONTINUOUS
Kemp starts the van. Cade slides into the front - wipes blood
off his push dagger- Tosses a cracked, blood-smudged hard
drive back to Zaz. ZAZ catches - plugs it in.
CADE
Let’s see who sold Willy his
fireworks.
The reflection of cascading code dances in his glasses.
ZAZ
Bypassing his local encryption...
accessing the offshore ledger...
and...
Zaz stops. He leans closer to the screen.
ZAZ (CONT’D)
Well, dew...dew!
CADE
Shit? Where? Willy?
KEMP
Welsh, dumbass. He found something
ZAZ
The C4 supplier. It’s an anonymous
dark-net syndicate, but look at the
banner.
Kemp looks back. His face goes sharp.
Screen shows a sleek, high-end dark-net marketplace. At the
top - THREE CUNEIFORM SYMBOLS:
Kemp looks pissed.
CADE
What is it?
KEMP
(quietly)
It's bait.
CADE
Bait? MI5 gave us this target.
Kemp’s cobalt eyes lock onto the windshield. The realization
hits him like a throat punch.
KEMP
And who do you think gave it to
MI5?
A heavy silence drops over the Rover. Zaz looks at Kemp.
KEMP (CONT’D)
He knew we’d take the contract. He
knew we’d pull the drive. Always 10
steps ahead.
ZAZ
Who?
KEMP
Trace the IP of that market, Zaz.
Now.
Zaz taps a single key. A location pings on the map.
ZAZ
Oklahoma City.
(again drained of
excitement)
Oklahoma City.
Zaz does not look happy.
KEMP
Book the flights.
Kemp glances back at Zaz.
KEMP (CONT’D)
What?
ZAZ
What? Greedo is what. And I can--
Kemp cuts him of.
KEMP
Dot next door will take him.
Zaz still not sold. Kemp - business-like.
KEMP (CONT’D)
Thirty percent?
Zaz ponders.
Cade lifts his head from his phone.
CADE
Oklahoma City. Done. YEE-HAW! We
gotta get us some cowboy hats,
gents.
Zaz looks at Kemp.
ZAZ
(deadpan)
Thirty percent and a cowboy hat.
Kemp hits the gas.
Genres:
["Action","Thriller","Crime"]
Ratings
Scene
14 -
Missed Connections
EXT. OUTSIDE PAWN SHOP — DAY
John's SUV. Steps out in jeans, flannel, aviators — phone to
his ear. The sign above reads: “BIG CITY PAWN”
JOHN
(to himself)
Answer the fucking phone.
Muffled voicemail. - BEEP -
JOHN (CONT’D)
Beth, this is call five. Call me
back. Please.
INT. THE HAMMER BAR — CONTINUOUS
A dimly lit empty bar. The sound of a badass Metal riff that
demands submission.
Someone on stage. Closer - it’s Beth on guitar making the
room quiver. A solo, pre-show shed.
She is the Metal Queen - her hair flies - hand a blur - foot
to pedal - music goes filthy. Her face: full trance- wide
eyed, raw and refined. A mad-woman and a genius. A master at
work in her arena.
Backstage — her guitar case. Her phone reads: 5 MISSED CALLS.
Genres:
["Drama","Thriller","Action"]
Ratings
Scene
15 -
The Ritual of Retrieval
INT. PAWN SHOP — CONTINUOUS
Typical pawn shop. John coughs loud. Nothing. Coughs louder.
CARL — 60s, white, Uncle Fester energy — limps over. Sees
John. Goes serious. Submissive.
JOHN
Today is the day.
CARL
Oh. Exciting. Been too long.
Rubs his hands. Quasimodo's to back. Drags out a black trunk.
CARL (CONT’D)
All there.
JOHN
Good. Your job, Carl. What is your
job?
CARL
Keep them here. Keep them here.
Yes.
JOHN
And?
CARL
Keep them here.
JOHN
Perfect.
John smirks - a signal to Carl.
CARL
Oh. Yes sir. All done. Exquisite.
He reaches down — THUNK — on the glass countertop. The most
unique revolver in existence.
Massive — barrel and frame: Smith and Wesson 500. Cylinder
and trigger: Civil War era, Whitneyville Dragoon. Grip: a
robust, plow-handle covered in gray python skin. Shiny. The
groove depth feels alive. In fact, the entire gun is an
organism. Perfect. One of a kind. Fifty caliber.
Carl runs his finger from chrome-coated steel to the
glistening python grip.
CARL (CONT’D)
Cleaned and polished. New frame.
New grip.
John's face goes soft.
CARL (CONT’D)
Sure you want it back?
John ignores him. Eyes only on the gun.
JOHN
(to gun with care)
Bashmu.
He picks it up with ease. A thorough, loving check from tip
to grip. Behind flannel, a shoulder-holster. Bashmu goes in.
JOHN (CONT’D)
Good, Carl. Good.
He lifts the trunk with little effort. Sunlight surrounds his
silhouette as he walks out.
INT. UNDERGROUND PARKING GARAGE — DAY
A dark, half-empty parking garage. John carries the black
trunk to a Dodge Caravan. Hits the fob — BEEP BEEP. Slides
the door open. Lifts the trunk in.
INT. JOHN’S SUV - CONTINUOUS
Parked in garage. About to start car and... - ZAP - white
flash.
JOHN
Fuck this.
The current takes him back.
Genres:
["Sci-Fi","Thriller","Action"]
Ratings
Scene
16 -
Bizarre Cleaning Instructions
INT. BILL'S LIVING ROOM - DAY (1999)
John’s father, BILL, 40s, White, an uncomfortably small man,
wiry. Flannel, Levis, massive belt buckle, obnoxious cowboy
hat. Crazy looking fucker.
He stands like a tiny General in front of John and Dave. Bill
walks to John, loud - SLAP - across his face.
BILL
You’re late son.
John’s face swells red, tears up but holds it in.
A quiet moment. Before Bill changes mood like a flick of a
switch.
BILL (CONT’D)
We got a VIP coming. Bone-ee-fide
cartel-connected, 3 pounds a month
off our hands. Fir--
Meth brain.
Bill- TWITCH/PAUSE || .... REWIND << a touch... then PLAY >
BILL (CONT’D)
Firstly, first... clean our
kitchen, want it like... like...
Betty Crocker could bake cookies in
there. Want steel and glass to
shine like a... like a... like a...
Mermaid's butthole. Get it?
No. Nobody does. Bill does a creepy fish/duck-hybrid face. A
hint or a rendition of a mermaid’s butthole? Dave and John -
unclear
Bill a mixed bag with similes. To his credit he jumps in with
the tenor eyes-closed. If only he could land the vehicle.
Dave a half smile. Which Bill soaks up as an invitation for
more lovely similes
TWITCH/BLANK-STARE || - one-one-thousand, two-one-thousand -
NOW... >
BILL (CONT’D)
Like a whore... with... crabs. Ya.
You know? Gotta scrub that shit out
of it.
No, they do not know.
BILL (CONT’D)
You gotta... You gotta... scrub...
your... shit... out - those nasty
little fuckers biiiiite.
What the fuh...? Bill starts in like he is on stage at a
poetry jam on "no rhyming night."
"OH MY" looks — Bill grabs his crotch, moves contents in
circular motion.
"OH NO" looks — it seems Bill is gonna take this to another
level. Yup — fucker breaks into song — a country song...
BILL (CONT’D)
You gotta wash that sack, After
layin' with a nasty wuhh-man. Scrub
it clean or them crabs will bite
all night!
Bill's body takes motion, like a leprechaun on speed. Cowboy
boots stomp, lasso twirls, finger-guns quick-draw — all while
one hand never leaves his crotch.
BILL (CONT’D)
One hand on balls at all times,
boys! That's the rule!
John's eyes light up. He joins in on this Ball Dance.
Dave gets the message and becomes a willing participant in
this crime against mankind.
15 seconds of horror, winds down. Back to business.
BILL (CONT’D)
Let's get to work. This place needs
to be tighter than ah... than ah...
Virgin's Vah--
Before Bill lands the simile the room flashes white. The
current pulls John forward.
Genres:
["Crime","Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
17 -
Eerie Revelations in the Storage Unit
INT. STORAGE UNIT — NIGHT (2027)
John disoriented. Migraine blinks, gathers.
Concrete walls. Lee moves in, winks at John. Lee is out of
a horror movie — red flat-top atop a 6'5" beast of a man.
LEE is the opposite of Ray, Energetic, a bit obnoxious.
LEE
You just had an Anchor. You need a
Slurry.
John looks at Ray.
JOHN
You said no Slurry.
Ray stares through John.
RAY
Decreases the chance of de-
coalescence by ten percent.
JOHN
That's pretty fucking significant,
Ray. You should've said something.
RAY
Didn't have any Slurry then. Now we
do.
John laughs.
LEE
Come on. Let me show you my office.
Lee grabs both bodies — one hand gripping a leg from each —
drags them behind. John watches. Looks down. Two parallel
blood streaks on the concrete.
Walks through sledgehammer made entrance into the neighboring
unit. John hasn't moved.
Eyes on the blood. Lee calls out:
LEE (CONT’D)
Buddy — you need to learn how to
make a Slurry. In case shit goes
south for you.
He laughs. Ray says something to Lee — faint, out of earshot.
Lee is never out of earshot.
LEE (CONT’D)
Holy shit. No way!
Then, to John:
LEE (CONT’D)
We don't get your type in here
much. Or ever. What the fuck are
you doing here?
John doesn’t answer.
LEE (CONT’D)
Never mind. Times are strange.
He lumbers on. CHHHSHHH — bodies drag on concrete.
This unit is all tarped up. Lee, Ray and bodies walk through
a tarp, John follows. A small area enclosed by hanging tarp.
Light from battery powered lanterns reflect an eery green
that illuminates a big cold steel autopsy table.
--BAM-- Lee slams one dead body on the table. An old MAN
about 70.
JOHN POV: The body bucks like a mechanical bull - faster -
the parking garage - Bill’s face - faster - dead body -
parking garage - faster - vibrates -- HUMMMMMMM - White light
blinds everything. Focus. END POV.
Genres:
["Thriller","Sci-Fi","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
18 -
Crude Tales at Dusk
EXT. BILL'S COMPOUND - DAY (1999)
A bear pen - 8'x8'x8' atrocity under a ash trees. Inside-- A
few boulders a dirty water trough and 2 sleeping black bears.
To the west, the sun begins its evening descent. A trailer
home ahead. A golf cart kicks up dust and stops in fromt of
the mobile home.
Bill, John and the VIP. TOM MAXWELL (50s, white) step out.
Tom is about 6 foot but towers over Bill. He wears a snazzy
white suit and a mustache. He does not look like a cartel
connect, more like Nick Offerman.
Bill is obnoxious, obviously trying to impress the VIP.
BILL
...and Florida is the only place
you can find two, one-legged
hookers, my friend. Gators...
Bill uses both index fingers in a hopping motion. Gets cross-
eyed looking at them - shakes his head vigorously.
BILL (CONT’D)
That be the trip I got John-Boy his
first hooker. She had two. Legs
that is. Tits too.
John nods proudly. The look on his face is priceless, like he
won an award.
Tom takes this in. Entertained on the surface, disgusted
underneath. His move: weaponized sarcasm.
TOM
Well, wasn't that a wonderful
story, Bill. I'm sure the rest of
it involves copious amounts of
Penicillin, but we must push on,
friend. The lab, I presume...
They head into the lab.
The sun sets behind the horizon as the full moon takes over
light duties for the night.
Genres:
["Crime","Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
19 -
Death in the Meth Lab
INT. METH LAB - CONTINUOUS
Shiny polished metal everywhere.
BILL
Look around. It's glorious... like
a... like... oiled-up booty-rama.
Ya. Shiny. Yehhhs?
Bill grinds his hips on a big stainless steel tank while
making creepy eye contact with Tom.
TOM
Steel can be shiny, yes.
BILL
(re: steel tank)
Fucking shiny smooth bottom here,
huh? Can make 4 pounds a cook with
this baby. The best in the West.
(MORE)
BILL (CONT’D)
Most wanted meth for five states...
in every direction.
Bill still in caress with the steel opens his arms wide like
he is Leo on the fucking Titanic.
TOM
John-Boy can cook too?
BILL
John, can you cook?
JOHN
I cook good shit, sir. Hells yeah!!
That same trophy-winning look. Begging for approval.
BILL
Second best cook in the West.
Taught him when he was 12.
TOM
Wonderful to hear. I love your
enthusiasm, son. And Bill... you
must be so proud. A chip off the
ol' block here.
Tom grins ear to ear, shadow boxing at John like he's 10.
TOM (CONT’D)
I have no doubt you cook excellent
meth, young man.
Tom is full on 1950s TV dad now. These guys don't catch on.
Tom walks off and explores the lab.
BILL
(to Tom)
Go ahead, take a look around.
Tom ignores - he didn't ask for permission.
Tom picks up the box cutter - pockets it - unbuttons holster,
oh so casual. Clocks a CASSETTE TAPE PLAYER and a STACK OF
CASSETTES.
TOM
Do you guys mind if I put on some
music here?
JOHN
Go ahead man, it's mostly my stuff.
Newer stuff. Don't know if you--
Bill cuts John off with a nudge and stink eye - mouths "shut
the fuck up." Tom chuckles.
TOM
It's fine son. I am much, much
older than you think.
Tom sifts through the tapes. One gets his attention. Written
in pen on the copied tape: "DANZIG - GODZ KILL" followed by a
shitty drawing of a skull.
TOM (CONT’D)
Glenn Danzig, you beautiful demon
bastard.
JOHN
Fuckin-A... Danzig is my dark lord.
Tom laughs and plays the tape.
MUSIC CUE: "How the Gods Kill" by Danzig
The song opens gently. "Ohhhh... Hohh Wahh Whohh Whohh-
ohhh...."
TOM
Well, gentlemen, I am truly
impressed by your lab. Smaller, but
much better than the ones I oversaw
in the Middle East.
BILL
No shit? I did not know that. Them
diaper heads cook meth in the
fucking desert? Shiiiiihhht. I bet
it paid for Suudaamm's chemical
bombs.
Tom's tone sharpens.
TOM
Wow, Bill. You get an A+... Yes...
Amphetamines and opium funded the
regime. In fact, I worked for
Hussein, running logistics. Ohhh
Saddam...
Tom takes on a fascinated tone.
TOM (CONT’D)
Not your average psychopath, oh no.
A megalomaniac... Rare breed. This
is silly, but I make lists. It's a
game my brother and I played.
(MORE)
TOM (CONT’D)
A list I keep is the ten best and
worst people I have met. Saddam is
number 5 on my worst list. I have
met sooo many people. Making any
list is impressive.
BILL
We kicked his ass though. Scud
missiles went scuh-daddle.
Tom ignores the dumbass comment.
TOM
Do you know Saddam ordered a Quran
be made, written in his own blood?
No shit. Some poor kid, maybe 20,
was chosen because he had good
handwriting.
(quick laugh)
So this kid slaves away, dipping
his pen in a coffee mug of Saddam's
blood day and night for a week. He
got 10 pages done maybe. Saddam
looks it over, shakes his head,
walks to the kitchen, and returns
with a paring knife. Without saying
one word, Saddam slits the kid's
throat.
Tom's eyes change.
TOM (CONT’D)
I am watching all of this...
stunned... Saddam's hands, dripping
with blood. He walks back to the
table, picks up an apple... bites
into it--
(mimics biting an apple)
--blood all over his mouth... Like
nothing happened. The man is a
fucking animal.
(chuckles)
Then he says to me... "we can put
my blood in a print press, no need
to write it all." And he starts
laughing hysterically.
Danzig gets louder, clearer, without human intervention...
"Would you let it gohh ohhh... Would you... let..it.. gohhh
ohh."
These guys have not a clue. Oblivious.
Tom's eyes sparkle luminescent green. Bill. And John stare
into them - hypnotized - they nod with flat affects.
Danzig swells - "They cannot end this mourrrning. Of my
liife, Show-me... how the gaaahhhds kiiil." The guitar
becomes a banshee.
BILL
Who are you?
TOM
Who am I? Complicated. I have been
many people. But it's the wrong
question, Bill. The right question
would be... What am I?
Tom's voice reverberates off the walls, shaking the trailer.
His face vibrates - blurry.
TOM (CONT’D)
To some, I am a source of
salvation. To others I may be a
reminder of lost wisdom. To you
Bill, in this moment, I am death.
Aren't you listening to the music,
Bill?
Tom focuses his hypnotic stare on John - Locks eyes.
TOM (CONT’D)
John. Stay calm, boy, and keep eye
contact.
Bill comes out of his trance - lunges toward Tom - THEN -
like a fucking ninja - Tom - right hand-box cutter - SLICE - -
Bill's carotid opens like a garden hose. Blood everywhere.
Tom's gaze never unlocks from John's.
Less than one second of violence - Bill dead on the ground.
Danzig - "Show-me... how the gaaahhhds kiiilll."
Tom slowly approaches John - THEN - He removes BASHMU from
holster - Python one with chrome - BOOM - head explodes like
Gallagher’s watermelons.
A small-green-wispy, ghost-like UMBRA exits Tom's body floats
toward John as it phases in and out making static noice. It
reaches John’s head and suddenly becomes darker and solid. It
latches onto his head a like a cobra.
JOHN
AHHHH! AHHHHHH! STOP!
The green organism phases in and out as it bores into his
head. Not an easy entrance.
JOHN (CONT’D)
FUCK YOU!
John tries to reach up but something else takes control. John
freezes and falls to the ground. Convulsions as the Umbra
fully enters.
Eyes open wide. These are not young John’s eyes. Wisdom,
mischief, kindness and yes, some evil. He springs to his
feet. Big smile - walks calmly to the cassette player - CLICK
- SILENCE.
END MUSIC
Sneakers - POUND - dirt outside. John gets Bashmu from Tom's
dead hand - raises it toward the door.
- CRACK - the door flies open. It's Dave with a shotgun.
Clocks John and lowers it. Dave clocks Bill - rushes to him -
drops to his knees.
DAVE
What the fuck!! Jesus fucking
Christ man. He is fucking dead.
Fuck...
John lifts his gun at Dave. Finger on trigger - John studies
Dave - intrigue - tucks gun.
Dave turns to John.
DAVE (CONT’D)
(CONT'D)
Shit man. What the fuck? The dude
sounded chill.
JOHN
Not chill.... Not chill at all.
Dave looks over at Tom's body. John watches Dave and grins. A
pet project, maybe.
JOHN (CONT’D)
(CONT'D)
I am going to need your help.
DAVE
Ya, Jefe, whatever you need.
JOHN
We are going to need the CHAINSAW
and the BEARS.
The room vibrates, static and a flash - the current takes
hold.
Genres:
["Thriller","Action","Drama","Crime"]
Ratings
Scene
20 -
The Slurry of Acceptance
INT. STORAGE UNIT - NIGHT (2027)
LEE
You back yet?
JOHN
What? Shit. How long?
RAY
53 minutes
JOHN
Shit.
John gathers.
LEE
You need Slurry. Almost done.
Lee now in a black rubber apron, scalpel in hand, stands over
the table - man is eviscerated - Chest plate propped at his
feet like a rack of ribs.
LEE (CONT’D)
The anchor is a bitch. You jump
through time, mostly past,
sometimes future. It will stop.
Slurry will help.
John gives a stoic nod as he takes in this back alley
autopsy. But he isn’t shocked or grossed out. He is numb.
Ray stands next to Lee, facing away. His white afro glows
blue. Lee tosses a kidney into a plastic bin. Without
looking, Ray reaches in, takes it. CHOP CHOP CHOP — organ
slices.
John stands with arms crossed. The other body — still wrapped
— crowds his tiny space. Sounds of evisceration. The iron
smell of blood and tissue.
LEE (CONT’D)
(like a demented teacher)
Mitochondria is the only organelle
with its own DNA and it’s inherited
from the mother.
(MORE)
LEE (CONT’D)
And that makes it easy to find
genetic matched. How you ask?
John didn’t ask.
A creepy clever smile.
LEE (CONT’D)
Ancestry.com. You know why?
THWACK — a lung slaps the table. Flounders like a fish out of
water.
JOHN
(uninterested)
Hmm.
LEE
Women. Women. Love doing the family
tree thing. So... we find a good
match and follow the tree. Easy.
John ignores. Steel face. Not hurried, not happy. Just
business.
LEE (CONT’D)
Fun fact nobody knows. Mito DNA,
It’s older than this planet. All
reasons why it stays while the rest
drifts away. Mito is forever
John gives an “I already know bud” look.
THWACK — pancreas bounces on the table. Ray snatches it.
SQUISH — into the bin.
John tracks a dark rivulet crossing the concrete toward his
shoe - moves shoe.
Lee's hands go back in — SQUISH SQUISH RIP — yanks out the
liver - DRIP DRIP -
LEE (CONT’D)
Ray. What's liver thing the
Hannibal guys says?
RAY
(without hesitation or
emotion)
I ate his liver with some fava
beans and a nice chianti.
LEE
Ray knows all the movie lines.
Hands back in — RIP —
LEE (CONT’D)
Here it comes. A buffet of
mitochondria.
Lee pulls out the heart. Holds it on both palms toward John —
an offering. Eyes locked on John. Frozen open smile. Yellow
teeth. A beat for image.
LEE (CONT’D)
The heart.
John’s confident veneer finally melts into something that
looks most like surrender. He no longer pities Ray or Lee. He
pities himself.
WHIRRRR — a blender. Ray pours the contents into a glass.
Gray. Chunky. Disgusting. Holds it out to John. A long pause.
John takes it. Studies it. Looks at Ray. One more look at the
glass. He drinks.
His face says everything and reveals nothing.
LEE (CONT’D)
Good. Good. Umbra needs its slurry.
Drink. Drink.
END ACT III
ACT IV
Genres:
["Thriller","Sci-Fi","Crime"]
Ratings
Scene
21 -
Adventures in Travel: From Birmingham to Oklahoma
INT. KEMP’S HOUSE - DAY
Zaz, Kemp and Cade. Kemp and Cade dressed for travel. Cade
still in Boba-Fett shirt.
Kemp in the middle. He turns.
KEMP
Get the led out boys.
BEGIN MONTAGE:
— Luggage — CRACK — ZIP — ZIP —
— Sad looks as Kemp and Cade return weapons to the lockbox
- BLUMMP — CLICK —
— House door — SLAM —
— Cab ride. Car door — SLAM —
— Through the back window: Bull Statue, St. Philip's
Cathedral, The Black Sabbath Bridge, Ozzy Osbourne statue,
Birmingham Library, a street mural of Rob Halford reading:
'BIRMINGHAM — BIRTHPLACE OF HEAVY METAL.'
— They enter Heathrow.
— Security line. Candy Crush on Kemp's screen.
— Cade sets off the body scanner. Red square blinks on his
crotch. Officer frisks him.
— Cade winks at an attractive woman while gesturing to the
red square.
CADE
(whispers to woman)
Happens every time.
— She smiles.
— They board. Plane takes off — HEEEHHHHEEWWW —
— Asleep. Zaz's head on Cade's shoulder.
— Cade exits the airplane bathroom followed by the woman from
security. Disheveled. Lipstick on his neck.
— Wheels hit — BUMP — BUMP — SQUEEELL —
— They deplane: WILL ROGERS WORLD AIRPORT. Tiny. A ghost
town.
— Airport store. Cade and Zaz try on cowboy hats.
— They walk away — Kemp in the middle, towering over both men
in their new cowboy hats.
END MONTAGE
Genres:
["Action","Thriller","Crime"]
Ratings
Scene
22 -
Ambush in the Garage
INT. UNDERGROUND RENTAL CAR PARKING GARAGE — CONTINUOUS
Dark. Lower level. Kemp presses the fob. A Dodge Caravan
lights up.
CADE
You got a people carrier.
Fantastic.
KEMP
Shut it. It was cheap and it's pre-
loaded.
A MAN pops out from behind the minivan. Blacked-out
sunglasses. In a dark parking garage.
He waves as they approach — but Kemp's face tightens. The
hair on his neck stands up.
KEMP’s POV:
— WOOSH — time slows, tunnel vision — a hand exposed from
behind a concrete pillar — WOOSH — shifts — a foot on the
other side. Another person hiding terribly.
BACK TO SCENE
KEMP (CONT’D)
(smiling, whispering)
Slow down. These ent friends.
CADE
These? As in more than one? I only
see the one bloke. Do they all have
sunglasses on?
KEMP
Smile. Don't mooch.
Wide smiles. Overly friendly waves toward the man by the van.
CADE
Perfect trap. Fresh off the plane.
No weapons.
He looks at Zaz, then Kemp.
CADE (CONT’D)
Do we leg it — or do we scrap?
ZAZ
You know me. I love some good
ballistic therapy.
KEMP
Fight it is. Stay close. Follow my
lead.
Kemp bends to tie his shoe. Zaz starts to do the same.
KEMP (CONT’D)
(whispering, annoyed)
Stop, ya saft fucka. Why don't we
all tie our shoes together while
we're at it? That's not suspicious
at all.
ZAZ
You said follow your lead.
KEMP
(grunts, whispers)
Get back down here. More suspicious
if you stop. You knob.
ZAZ
You know what's suspicious? The
fucking sunglasses in the dark. I
wouldn't worry about us.
Kemp removes a sharp plastic blade from his shoe.
ZAZ (CONT’D)
I want one of those.
Kemp ignores him. Stands with a giant fake smile.
KEMP
Alright, you — you the tossa?
No answer. Closer. Thirty feet.
KEMP (CONT’D)
(louder)
The tossa — are you the tossa?
Ten feet.
MAN
(American, confused)
Uhhh... sure. I'm a tossa.
Four feet.
KEMP
Let me show you something, tossa.
He gestures Zaz and Cade to cover.Kneel behind a car.
SUDDENLY — Kemp pounces. Four quick thrusts to the groin —
femoral artery severed. A barrage of kidney strikes — renal
artery opened. BLOOD. All with a three-inch plastic blade.
Gently, he takes the dying man to the ground.
KEMP (CONT’D)
Well. Looks like your days of
tossin are over.
Shots from both sides. Kemp takes the man's gun.
KEMP’S POV:
Tunnel vision — a head pokes from behind a pillar — gun
extends — POP — one shot through the head.
BACK TO SCENE
Cold cobalt eyes.
CADE
One more, I think. Over there. Want
me to draw him out?
KEMP
Sure. These guys are shit shots.
Cade bolts for the next row. The last man steps out to fire —
BANG — Kemp beats him to it.
Zaz inspects the second dead man's handgun. Not a normal gun
— oversized, strange tech on the barrel. He shows Kemp.
ZAZ
Look. A fuckin Atomizer it is.
Dirty pool...
(In Welsh)
coc oens.
Kemp doesn't look shocked.
Cade examines the first man. Pale skin. Yellow eyes. Bald
head. He turns the head — a gruesome scar on the right
temple.
CADE
Somebody's science project.
ZAZ
(calling back)
This one too. Clones. Wankers!
KEMP
(to the dying man)
Who sent you?
The man's eyes glow yellow. Up close his pallid face is wrong
in ways that are hard to name.
KEMP (CONT’D)
Why find John Jones? Who is he?
MAN
You know why.
KEMP
What?... Who is your boss?
MAN
ENLIL sends his condolences.
Kemp's armor cracks. He closes his eyes. The world turns
slowly around him. Vertigo.
ZAZ
What did he say?
A long pause. Kemp still on one knee. Gathering himself.
KEMP
Nothing. Nonsense.
ZAZ
He said Enlil, he did.
KEMP
(pissed)
I fucking heard him. Leave it be.
Kemp scans the garage. His mind churning.
KEMP (CONT’D)
We need to go. Now.
Cade is putzing around looking at cars.
KEMP (CONT’D)
Cade! We're going. Game has
changed.
Genres:
["Action","Thriller","Mystery"]
Ratings
Scene
23 -
Weapons and Wits
INT. CARAVAN — CONTINUOUS
Kemp drives. Zaz and Cade’s faces from below. They looked
shocked.
John’s black trunk. It has a note on it. Followed by the the
same three Cuneiform symbols. Reads:
See you soon.
.
KEMP
Did they miss anything? Wasn't
cheap getting that delivered.
Zaz snatches the note - rushes to Kemp. Shoves it in front of
his face.
ZAZ
Look!
Kemp swerves because a note is in his face. He smacks Zaz’s
hand out of the way.
KEMP
Wanker. What is it?
ZAZ
He left a note.
KEMP
Who?
ZAZ
You know who.
Kemp’s face says it all. He knows. Cade is in the back going
through the trunk now. Guns and rifles.
CADE
He did this? Not bad taste.
Grabs a Beretta 82 handgun.
CADE (CONT’D)
He has taste. Good choice here.
A beat. Kemp stares out at the road and with some wound woven
into his words...
KEMP
He always puts so much care in his
choices.
Cade now studies the Atomizer. A big boxy handgun with a
blinking light. Ejects the mag — a blue plasma-like substance
churns and glows white. Zaz glances at it.
ZAZ
Get shot with that and your
Umbra... Bu farw.
CADE
What is boo fart?
Close on Zaz — looking utterly ridiculous in his cowboy hat.
In his best — and overall fucking horrible — American cowboy
accent:
ZAZ
BOO FAARWW... it means —
(dramatic pause)
You’re dead meat, partner.
Genres:
["Action","Thriller","Sci-Fi"]
Ratings
Scene
24 -
Sacrifice and Shadows
INT. JOHN'S CENTCOM — DAY
John at the console. French on screen. Behind her scientists
attach wires to a chimps head. A sense of urgency, controlled
chaos. She straightens the camera.
FRENCH
Hey.
JOHN
Kickoff time.
FRENCH
Ok. Ready here. Just final tune
ups is it. Enos is about to make
the trip. See?
She points at the chimp. She does not look confident.
John winces.
JOHN
Don’t want to know. We go when we
go.
John calms and leans in.
JOHN (CONT’D)
You are the most brilliant person
on this planet. I have faith in
you.
She blushes. Smiles.
FRENCH
Well, duh. Everyone knows that.
Still awkward a moment. Then she pulls it together.
FRENCH (CONT’D)
Alright.
JOHN
Alright.
French holds his look — it's love. John smiles back. One
moment that holds a deep bond. History. Ends call - a breath.
A moment. The face goes all business.
He goes ape shit.
Throws a computer at the floor — CRASH — parts scatter.
Motherboards — CRUNCH — under his heel. RAM chips — CRACK —
pulverized.
SMASH CUT:
Hard drives spin and spark in a microwave. Smoke.
John runs through living room. Quick stop on picture from
before with friend. It’s Dave.
John goes into CENTCOM. Opens safe. Inside: a PHONE, USB
DRIVE, a gun that makes Bashmu look modest, a FOLDED PLASTIC
SHEET, and a SHINY BLACK PEBBLE.
He takes everything out. Puts all personal effects into the
safe. Places the pebble on his palm — it hovers an inch above
his hand, glows blue. He plucks it from mid-air. Returns it
to the safe. Closes the door.
Three seconds — a deafening THRUMMMM from inside the safe.
Three more — DING-DONG.
John peeks out the window. A woman at the door.
He opens flannel - checks Bashmu - opens the door —
His wife. Sara.
He doesn't move. Can't. The door just hangs open.
Ten thousand years. He has seen everything. He has not seen
this.
She looks at him. Waiting.
He steps forward and pulls her into a hug. Face buried in her
hair, eyes closed. Something in him stops fighting.
A long beat.
His eyes open slowly. He takes in the smell. His face
tightens.
He releases her.
SARA
(tone flat, rhythmic,
rote)
Hello. Come with me, John. We need
to go.
He hesitates. She takes his hand, leads him outside.
Toward a van parked 30 feet away.
He walks with her. Three steps toward the van. Four.
He stops.
SARA (CONT’D)
No time to explain. Come on.
JOHN
Fruity Pebbles.
SARA
What?
JOHN
You heard me. Fruity Pebbles.
SARA
I don't... understand. It's
dangerous here. Let's go.
John holds his ground.
JOHN
My Sara would know what that means.
You are not my Sara. You’re a
clone.
Her demeanor flattens. Robotic.
SARA
I am Sara. My umbra in a clone
vessel. Ambrose the Divine wants to
speak with you. Come.
John sighs,
JOHN
Ambrose the Divine? Listen to
yourself. I see you in there. Beth
— Beth is almost twenty. She's in a
band. You can see her play tonight.
She's amazing.
Sara's face is fighting. Surfacing.
John moves closer.
JOHN (CONT’D)
Yes. Stay with me. Stay with Beth.
We need you.
He holds out his hand. Her hand reaches for his — trembling.
He grabs it. Pulls her into a hug. She rests her head on his
shoulder.
JOHN (CONT’D)
(quiet)
I can help you. I've been working
on something — for you. We can fix
this.
In the periphery — eight COMMANDOS, decked out in black,
strapped with futuristic sleek black rifles, march from 30
yards. SCREECH — tires, off camera.
John disengages but keeps her hand. Sara looks at him, then
at the commandos. The clone veneer snaps back. She frees her
hand. Stares at John — flat, blank. Then signals the
commandoes. The commandoes march toward John.
John stares at Sara. He deflates as she turns toward the van.
He is about to go and get her when -
— BANG BANG — commandos open fire. Return fire off-screen.
Bullets WHIZ. Sara gets in van.
JOHN (CONT’D)
No!!!
KEMP appears — snatches John by the collar - hauls his ass
inside. ZAZ and CADE — still in cowboy hats — return fire.
Three Commandoes down. Before they slam the door closed. and
follow through the door. It slams.
They move to the back of the house for cover.
BAM — THUD — front door hits the ground. THUD THUD — boots
over smashed wood.
John draws Bashmu. Turns - earrape - BANG - A commando takes
.50 to chest flies across the room - THUNK - Dead.
Three commandoes remain. They scurry into the kitchen.
John holsters his gun and joins the posse in the back. Pulls
the plastic sheet- Shakes it out — He pulls it over hus head,
wears it. Kemp watches with a 'what the actual fuck' look.
Big smile.
KEMP
Expecting rain?
JOHN
What? No.
KEMP
Then what the fuck is that?
JOHN
French designed it. It's an Umbra-
Buster-Proof-Vest.
Zaz and Cade fire off shots. Commandoes pinned in. It gets
quiet. A waiting game.
KEMP
It’s a rainy day poncho, Enki.
John doesn't flinch at the name. Like it is his name. It is.
JOHN
Hey. French made it. She's
brilliant. Kind of like you, Zaz.
KEMP
Did she name it? Because that is a
fucking horrible name.
JOHN
No and it does what it says. NAme
it what?
ZAZ
The Blockade. The Protector. Umbra
Armor.I can keep going...
Zaz leans over. Studies the vest closely. He's arrived at a
verdict.
ZAZ (CONT’D)
(serious)
But, it's like a garbage bag, Enki.
You are wearing a garbage bag.
Cade cuts in - tips his cowboy hat.
CADE
Howdy, partner.
John shakes his head. Finally cracks a smile.
JOHN
Still an eight-year-old in a grown
man's body.
Sounds of movement in the kitchen. Kemp nods. Flanking
gesture. They go.
O.C. — BANG — BANG —
Around the corner. The Kitchen - closed quarters - shots fly -
Zaz fires to left - Freeze on commando - has Zaz dead to
rights - then - a blur - BAM -
To Kemp. - BAM - he drops the last commando.
KEMP
Clear.
He turns and his face - shock then anger
On the floor... John bleeding out.
KEMP (CONT’D)
Bloody hell. The poncho isn't
bulletproof. Yampy fucka. You're
supposed to wear a bulletproof vest
too. Let's get you to a hospital.
JOHN
No. Not part of the plan.
KEMP
You and your fucking plans. Great
plan - die on the kitchen floor eh?
JOHN
I have The Bleed, I'm dying anyway.
But...
He smiles. Coughs. Makes eye contact. Zaz - shame on his
face.
JOHN (CONT’D)
She's alive, Kemp.
Kemp goes still. Turns to process. Zaz kneels by John.
ZAZ
You took that bullet for me. Stupid
arse. You are worth ten of me.
JOHN
Zaz shut it. Have faith. I'm going
to blow your minds.
He laughs, then grimaces.
JOHN (CONT’D)
Not much time. Listen. Big City
Pawn Shop. Be there. Couple of
hours, I have one more stop. You're
going to like this one, brother. I
have so much to show you...
A long pause. Slowly he removes Bashmu from the holster.
Holds it out to Kemp. Kemp looks at it. Looks at John.
He takes it. No words. John closes his eyes. Drifts off.
His green, wispy UMBRA flickers — phases in and out — as it
eases up through his chest. It rises.
Hovers near Kemp for a long moment — as if looking at him.
Kemp stares back. Doesn't breathe.
Then it darts up through the ceiling. Gone. Kemp looks down
at Bashmu in his hand.
Genres:
["Action","Thriller","Sci-Fi"]
Ratings
Scene
25 -
Nostalgia and Resolve
INT. BLACK VAN — CONTINUOUS
Clone Sara drives. Face flat. Eyes ahead.
MEMORY HIT:
Blurry, desaturated — John and Sara in their old kitchen.
Sara is very pregnant, eating Fruity Pebbles by the handful.
John snatches the box. She goes after him. He throws a
handful at her. She laughs. Throws some back. She drops the
box and they kiss.
BACK TO SCENE
A tear runs down Sara's cheek.
She picks up her phone. Finds Beth's social media page. “IRA
DEI 8pm TONIGHT AT THE HAMMER.”
Her face steels.
SMASH CUT TO:
Genres:
["Action","Thriller","Sci-Fi"]
Ratings
Scene
26 -
The Retrieval Order
INT. UNDERGROUND BUNKER — EARLIER
The same carved rock. The same overwhelming scale.
Ambrose reclines on the leather couch — phone in hand, face
lit by its glow. Unhurried.
In the background, the holographic Earth rotates on its
endless loop. The wormhole bores through it. Planet comes
apart. Resets. Wallpaper.
CLONE SARA stands. Waiting. Ambrose doesn't look up from his
phone.
AMBROSE
(to phone, RP British)
Bollocks. Every time. Blade to the
gooch.
He sets the phone down. Looks at Clone Sara. Bored.
AMBROSE (CONT’D)
I need something retrieved.
He holds her gaze.
AMBROSE (CONT’D)
John Jones.
She says nothing. Eyes flat. Awaiting.
AMBROSE (CONT’D)
And be a dear — don't damage him.
He is rather irreplaceable.
He picks up his phone. Back to his game.
Clone Sara turns and leaves without a word.
Ambrose watches her go. Something ancient moves behind his
eyes. He glances at the hologram — the planet splitting open
an eternal loop.
AMBROSE (CONT’D)
(to himself, quietly)
Ira dei.
BACK TO SCENE
INT. BLACK VAN — CONTINUOUS
Clone Sara. Eyes ahead. The mission locked in. She drives.
INT. UNDERGROUND BUNKER — CORRIDOR
Dimly lit, granite covered walls A flickering light pulses
down a corridor - WOOSH — deeper into the bunker. A labyrinth
of tunnels — left, right, left — and through a door into a
dark room.
A line of INCUBATORS. Glass viewports lit from within.
Moving down the line — the first two contain clones of
Ambrose. All with the same cylindrical implant anchored in
the left parietal bone.
The third incubator demands more attention.
Different. Perfect. Radiant. Golden skin, topaz eyes — human
in form, but otherworldly in presence. Something ancient.
Bird's-eye view — the room is massive. Hundreds of occupied
pods. All awaiting animation.
Genres:
["Action","Thriller","Sci-Fi"]
Ratings
Scene
27 -
Possession and Revelation
INT. FRENCH'S LAB — DAY
High-tech. Clean. A beautiful snowy mountain landscape
through floor-to-ceiling windows.
An incubator — closer — the foggy viewport — It's John.
Awaiting animation.
French at her console — brain waves and PET scan on the
display. She studies them intently. Whatever she sees, she
does not look worried. She should probably be worried.
END ACT IV
TAG
EXT. HOSPITAL — DAY
An UMBRA floats 100 feet above a hospital. Moving toward it.
It darts at a patient's window and passes through.
INT. HOSPITAL ROOM — CONTINUOUS
A sick, unconscious young man — JACK SPENCER, 18 — lies in a
hospital bed. Bald. Deep dark circles of death around his
eyes.
The room is full of flowers and cards. Popular kid. Tacked to
the wall above his head: twenty pictures of him playing
baseball.
In one — Jack in a COLORADO ROCKIES UNIFORM, smiling like he
won the lottery. Caption: '2026 MLB DRAFT — JACK SPENCER, SS
— 1ST ROUND PICK — COLORADO ROCKIES.'
Jack opens his eyes. The Umbra hovers above him — HUMMING.
He reaches up. It phases in and out as it enters his head
like they were meant for each other. A green aura. But...
He convulses. Pinned on his back — eyes wide, head tilted up,
arms held down by nothing visible. Face flat. Contorting.
Then - dark circles disappear. Color rushes back. He sits up
— eyes glow green for a moment — then clear. He looks like
the kid in the pictures again.
Jack runs to the bathroom mirror. Back of gown barely covers
his ass. Vibrant, healthy face. He flexes his bicep. Wide
smile.
JOHN'S VOICE
Now, Jack. Lie down. Act sick.
Jack rushes back, barely in time. Closes his eyes. An
overweight NURSE enters. She clocks the cords on the floor.
NURSE
My sweet boy. Bad dreams?
Jack gives a fake groan. Rolls over. The nurse reconnects
him. Clocks his bicep. Sneaks a squeeze. Walks away.
NURSE (CONT’D)
(to herself, faint)
Oh honey, if you were just a few
years older. Oh my.
Door closes. Jack's eyebrows wrinkle.
JACK
(re: nurse)
Dude. I feel violated.
His body contorts. Face twitches. A different tone.
Springs up again, Struggles to bathroom again.
SUDDENLY— Jack’s right hand shoots up and SLAMS into the
mirror. CRACK.
JACK (CONT’D)
What the fuck?!
He tries to pull his hand back. He can’t. His fingers are
locked to the glass like iron. His reflection stares back,
but the face... shifts. The jaw sets. The eyes go cold,
ancient, and deeply annoyed.
ENKI'S VOICE
(Jack’s head strained)
Stop... resisting. The adrenaline
is flooding our synapses. You're
making the motor functions
sluggish.
Jack’s left hand grabs his right wrist, pulling frantically.
It's a brutal tug-of-war with his own skeleton.
JACK
Who’s ‘us’?! Am I stroking out?
Help! HELP!
Jack's mouth snaps shut. Teeth click together. Hard.
ENKI
(speaking through Jack's
mouth, voice deeper,
guttural)
Scream again, and I walk you out
the window.
Jack's body bucks, slams backward against the bathroom door.
He slides down to the tiles, hyperventilates. His mouth
opens, gasps for air. Jack reclaims his vocal cords.
JACK
Oh God. I’m dead. The chemo fried
my brain. You’re God. Look, I
cheated on Stacey once! And I did
steroids. Just once. I swear!
A violent twitch. Jack's head cracks back against the wood.
ENKI
(through Jack’s mouth)
I don't care about your steroids. I
care about the temporal lobe. Give
me the wheel. I need to get to a
bar called The Hammer.
Now. Another spasm. Jack fights back, adrenaline spiking. He
forces his left hand toward the emergency call cord hanging
by the toilet.
JACK
No! I’m staying right here. I’m
pressing the button.
His fingers graze the red cord. Enki freezes the arm. The
bicep bulges, shaking violently with the effort of two minds
fighting for one nerve cluster.
ENKI
(internal voice, colder,
dangerous)
Pull it. But know this: I am the
only reason your lungs aren't
filling with fluid right now. I
fixed the rot in your marrow. If
you hit that button, I leave this
vessel. The cancer returns exactly
as I found it.
Jack’s hand hovers over the cord. Trembling. The panic gives
way to a profound, terrifying realization. He feels the truth
of it in his bones. He feels the absence of the sickness.
JACK
(whispers)
What are you?
ENKI
(internal)
Something that can answer every
question you’ve ever had.
Jack swallows hard, eyes wide.
ENKI (CONT’D)
(internal)
You want to know why you are what
you are. You want to know what was
waiting for you in the dark? Get me
to The Hammer. Do exactly as I
say... and I’ll tell you the
secrets of the universe.
Silence in the bathroom. Only the sound of Jack's ragged
breaths. Slowly, the violent shaking stops. Jack lowers his
hand from the call cord.
JACK
(terrified but hooked)
Okay. Okay. But I need clothes. I
can't walk into a bar with my ass
hanging out.
A small, almost imperceptible nod from Jack's head—Enki
agreeing.
ENKI
(internal;)
Agreed. Put on the pants. And
hurry.