Scene
1 -
Grounded: The Fallout of a Viral Outburst
INT. CHIEF PILOT’S OFFICE – DAY
ON A LAPTOP: a shaky phone video paused on CAPTAIN DERRICK
SANDERS (30s), square-jawed, battle-scarred, veins bulging.
A thumb taps PLAY.
Passengers gasp, phones raised like fireflies.
TIKTOK (V.O.)
When your pilot goes full psycho at
thirty thousand feet...
ON VIDEO:
DERRICK
I’ll break your goddamn hands!
SUPER: #FlightFreakout #UnfitToFly
SUPER: 1.2M views • 2 hours ago
A faint whine from the air vent. The clock’s second hand
ticks.
The laptop SNAPS shut.
CHIEF PILOT (50s), calm but cold.
PR DIRECTOR (40s), crisp, unreadable.
Derrick jaw tight, fists balled.
CHIEF PILOT
This is what’s making the rounds.
It’s bad, Derrick. Real bad.
DERRICK
But he was touching...
PR DIRECTOR
Doesn’t matter what happened.
Perception is the truth.
(beat)
You’re trending for the wrong
reasons, Captain.
The Chief slides a form across:
“30-DAYS ADMINISTRATIVE LEAVE - PENDING REVIEW.”
Derrick stares. A cold beat.
CHIEF PILOT
Badge and tablet. You’re grounded.
Keep your phone on.
Derrick unclamps his SECURITY BADGE. Sets it down.
Slides over his iPad. His hand lingers.
DERRICK
That’s it?
PR DIRECTOR
That’s it.
(beat)
No statements. No posts. Let Legal
speak for you.
CHIEF PILOT
Take a break. Don’t make us take
more.
PR DIRECTOR
If this spreads, we don’t just lose
you. We lose the airline. You
understand.
Derrick picks up the pen. Signs hard. The point TEARS through
the paper.
PR Director flinches, the Chief doesn’t.
He stands. Doesn’t look back.
Reaches for the door.
Turns. A breath.
A long inhale.
He’s gone.
PR watches the closed door, uneasy.
CHIEF PILOT
He’ll fly again.
(beat)
If the world lets him.
Genres:
["Drama","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
2 -
Road Rage and Consequences
EXT. 405 FREEWAY – DAY
Sun glare. Endless lanes.
Black Jeep - gold plate 455-RXB.
INT. DERRICK’S JEEP - MOVING - CONTINUOUS
Derrick drives. Stares blankly. LA’s haze smears the skyline.
Top down. Wind batters his jaw.
On the passenger seat: a SMALL WRAPPED GIFT (“EMILY 10”)
beside a “30-DAYS ADMINISTRATIVE LEAVE” notice.
His phone: the TikTok clip. He kills the volume. Tosses it
aside.
A near-identical BLACK JEEP, tinted, plate 458-RX8, slides in
front.
Derrick glances. Red rises. A breath. He lets it go.
INT. MUSCLE CAR - CONTINUOUS
DRIVER (20s), neck ink; WIFE (exhausted) up front, facetimes;
NEWBORN wails in back.
DRIVER
Jesus, move!
WIFE
Just drive.
VOICE (V.O.)
What happened?
WIFE
Just some asshole cut us off.
She angles the phone.
WIFE (CONT’D)
Your dad’s on. Say hi.
The camera glimpses the road ahead...the black jeep.
VOICE
Drive safe. See you soon.
He punches the gas.
EXT. 405 FREEWAY - CONTINUOUS
The tinted JEEP cuts across two lanes.
It brake checks hard. Darts for the exit ramp.
The Muscle Car swerves to avoid.
A SEMI ROARS by, blind spot swallowing the car’s fender.
—STRAIGHT INTO THE SEMI’S REAR WHEELS.
Derrick’s Jeep noses down, tires CHIRP.
A HORN BLARES. Rubber detonates.
The muscle car pinwheels.
Derrick jerks the wheel.
The Jeep fishtails, stops dead.
Silence.
A Baby’s thin piercing cry.
The Muscle Car SLAMS the divider. Metal screams. Glass
explodes.
INT. MUSCLE CAR – CONTINUOUS
Wife SCREAMS. Driver fights the wheel...
BANG. Airbags blow.
Genres:
["Drama","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
3 -
Chaos on the 405: A Desperate Rescue
EXT. 405 FREEWAY – CONTINUOUS
Debris rains.
A BABY’S SOCK flutters to a stop in front of Derrick’s Jeep.
He grips the wheel. Knuckles white. Breath held.
He’s out of the car, running.
Heat shimmering.
Rear door crumpled shut.
Through a crack: the Baby, upside down, wailing.
WIFE
Please!
Derrick yanks the handle. Nothing. Again. Nothing.
A GOOD SAMARITAN rushes up, TIRE IRON in hand.
GOOD SAMARITAN
Here!
The door creaks open.
FIRE licks the hood.
Derrick feels for the latch. Stuck.
Secondary release. CLICK.
He wrenches the BABY SEAT free, threads it through the gap.
The Good Samaritan pulls from the other side.
DERRICK
Back! Fifty feet. Go!
The man runs with the baby.
WIFE
(choking)
My husband...
Through the spiderweb glass: Driver slumped, flames crawling
the dash.
Derrick rips at the door. Fingers numb. Useless.
A HIGHWAY PATROL OFFICER races up with an EXTINGUISHER.
OFFICER
Back up!
Foam floods the engine bay.
Another OFFICER pulls Derrick clear.
OFFICER #2
Sir... let us work.
Sirens swarm. Above, a chopper hovers, lens locked.
INT. NEWS HELICOPTER – CONTINUOUS
A CAMERAMAN tracks the carnage. A REPORTER leans into her
headset.
REPORTER
Rollover at the 405 and Howard
Hughes. One infant pulled clear by
bystander.
EXT. 405 FREEWAY – CONTINUOUS
Derrick staggers back. PARAMEDICS swarm.
The baby cries.
Behind him, his Jeep sits crooked. The GIFT glints in the
sun.
His PHONE DINGS.
EMILY (TEXT)
Where are you?
He types... deletes.
EXT. CRASH SITE – MOMENTS LATER
Traffic frozen. Yellow tape flaps. A CORONER’S VAN idles.
An EMT dabs Derrick’s temple. Blood freckles his sleeve.
He stares at a charred bumper sticker: a FAMILY STICK FIGURE
DECAL, the father’s shape half burned.
Derrick looks down. The gift is crushed.
His phone BUZZES: unknown number.
He doesn’t answer.
EXT. 405 FREEWAY – CONTINUOUS
Tow trucks groan. Traffic creeps.
The freeway exhales.
The TV Reporter interviews witness.
TV REPORTER
Can you tell us what happened?
WITNESS
A black jeep cut off that mustang.
Then BANG! It was crazy. Did the
baby make it?
Reporter hesitates.
WITNESS (CONT’D)
Damn.
Derrick sits motionless on the curb.
Soot smudging the bow on the crushed gift.
Taillights streak past.
An L.A. COUNTY MORGUE VAN waits behind the tape.
The morgue van doors swing shut.
Chrome catches light.
Derrick’s face ghosted beside the baby’s sock.
Genres:
["Drama","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
4 -
Fractured Homecoming
EXT. SANDERS’ HOUSE - NIGHT
Upper-middle suburbia. Manicured lawns. A porch light burns
late.
Derrick’s Jeep rolls in. Windshield pitted with glass dust.
Derrick climbs out. Temple taped, knuckles scraped, shirt
smoke-smudged.
MARY (30s), athletic, all business in athleisure, storms out.
She freezes.
MARY
Where the... Jesus, Derrick. What
the hell happened to you?
DERRICK
Where’s Emily?
MARY
She waited for you... again.
Derrick’s shoulders sag.
Mary’s eyes drift to the SMALL WRAPPED GIFT on the passenger
seat — “EMILY 10” — bow soot smudged.
A flicker of softness. Then, steel again.
MARY (CONT’D)
She’s upset. You’re taking her to
school tomorrow.
DERRICK
Yeah.
He doesn’t meet her eyes.
MARY
Do I need to call your sponsor?
DERRICK
Goodnight, Mary.
He reaches into the Jeep, hand hovers over the gift. Pulls
back. Shuts the door.
Slides behind the wheel.
The Jeep eases off the curb. Disappears down the street.
Across the street, a parked SUV idles. A faint glow inside.
Genres:
["Drama","Family"]
Ratings
Scene
5 -
Morning Dynamics
EXT. SANDERS’ HOUSE - MORNING
Derrick pulls up. Emily, AirPods in, all attitude, climbs in.
Mary, in a pantsuit, leans into the window.
MARY
Are you coming too?
DERRICK
Wouldn’t miss it.
MARY
I’ll believe it when I see it. Wish
me luck.
EMILY
Good luck, Mom.
Derrick pulls away.
INT. DERRICK’S JEEP - MOVING - CONTINUOUS
A crushed GIFT rides in the footwell.
DERRICK
Hey, Ems.
Emily stares out the window.
DERRICK (CONT’D)
How’s school?
EMILY
It’s fine. Just boring.
DERRICK
Still calling you Silent Giant?
EMILY
Yeah. I call them extras.
Derrick chuckles. Emily smirks.
Genres:
["Drama","Family"]
Ratings
Scene
6 -
Viral Drop-Off Drama
EXT. SCHOOL DROP-OFF - MOMENTS LATER
Derrick pulls to the curb. Emily shoulders her backpack.
She hops out, shuts the door.
A DROP-OFF MONITOR, huge, humorless, waves Derrick forward.
DROP-OFF MONITOR
Keep moving, sir.
Derrick waves him off, eyes on Emily wading through students.
DERRICK
One second.
DROP-OFF MONITOR
Let’s go.
Derrick’s door flies open. He steps out fast, closing
distance.
He steps into the Monitor’s space; his fist tightens.
Unclenches.
DERRICK
She clears, I roll.
Phones rise in unison - faster than help. A few KIDS stare; a
tiny red REC dot blinks.
Whispers from the crowd.
PARENT
That’s the pilot from TikTok.
Derrick clocks Emily looking back. Cheeks flush. Shoulders
slump.
She disappears into the crowd.
The fuse dies. He swallows it.
DERRICK
You’re right. I’m moving.
(to Emily, softer)
Have a good day, Em.
She puts in her AirPods. Turns away.
EXT. SCHOOL DROP-OFF — PARENT PHONE — LIVE
A tiny red REC dot pulses over Derrick standing outside the
Jeep.
ON SCREEN — SHORT-VIDEO UI
SUPER: #DropOffDad
COMMENTS cascade: “Unhinged.” “Pilot AGAIN?” “Context
matters.” “He’s protecting his kid.”
A VIEW COUNTER ratchets up.
#DropOffDad climbs beside #FlightFreakout. Comment wars.
Duets. Stitches. The clip gets memed.
PR DIRECTOR (TEXT)
Stand down. No statements, no
posts. This is spiraling.
END MONTAGE.
Genres:
["Drama","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
7 -
Flight Clearance
INT. DERRICK’S APARTMENT - LIVING ROOM - DUSK
Derrick sits on an old couch. Photos of Emily and his
squadron on the coffee table.
He picks up the picture of his daughter. A quiet smile.
He puts down the frame. Picks up another: he’s centered among
officers.
A pill bottle and divorce papers on his coffee table.
He shakes out two pills into the palm of his hand.
On the bottle — “DO NOT OPERATE HEAVY MACHINERY. WILL CAUSE
DROWSINESS.”
A beat.
Shoves the pills back into the bottle.
A record player and stack of records sit on a table.
He takes out a record and places it on the player.
A lonely ballad hums through the static.
The wall clock reads 6:00 p.m.
He closes his eyes.
FADE TO:
The same clock — 8:00 p.m.
The record’s needle scratches.
The phone RINGS.
He jumps up and answers.
DERRICK
Hello?
INT. CHIEF PILOT’S HOUSE - KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS
The Chief Pilot trembles, collar damp, phone to his ear.
A gun pressed to his back.
CHIEF PILOT
Corporate approved the override.
You’re cleared for Flight 129 out,
128 back.
DERRICK (O.S.)
Of course. Didn’t think you’d call
me so soon.
INT. DERRICK’S APARTMENT - CONTINUOUS
Derrick paces. Trying to process.
DERRICK
(phone to ear)
Thanks, boss.
ON DERRICK’S PHONE — NEW EMAIL
Subject: AUTHORIZATION: OVERRIDE CODE 39F — CAPT D. SANDERS
INTERCUT — CHIEF PILOT’S PHONE: From: [email protected]. He
taps SEND on the same subject line.
CHIEF PILOT (V.O.)
Yeah, well... welcome back.
He looks up at the clock — 8:00 p.m.
Click. Derrick hangs up.
DERRICK
Shit.
He looks back at the divorce papers... glances at Emily’s
photo, bolts out the door.
Papers fan across the floor.
Door slams behind him.
INT. CHIEF PILOT’S HOUSE - KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS
The Chief Pilot’s hands shake.
CHIEF PILOT
We good?
BANG.
Black.
Genres:
["Drama","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
8 -
A Bittersweet Birthday
EXT. SANDERS’ HOUSE - BACKYARD - EVENING
Giant pine trees line the yard. String lights. Green grass. A
DOZEN GIRLS and MOMS mill about.
Birthday decorations and craft tables scatter the space.
At a table, Emily paints a ceramic dog. She keeps glancing at
the side gate. Her brush slows.
A hopeful beat. Nothing. She sighs, dabs more paint.
Mary enters with a cake shaped like a dog.
The group sings “Happy Birthday.”
Mary steals a look at the gate. Nothing. She pastes on a
smile, adjusts the cake in her hands to steady herself.
BUSTER THE DOG jumps into Emily’s lap.
MARY
Make a wish.
Emily sits back, thinking.
She closes her eyes. Silence. She opens them.
EMILY
I did.
She studies the flickering candles. Party noise fades. A
beat. She blows them out, face unreadable.
MARY
Ok. Let’s open some presents.
Mary leans in, whispering-
MARY (CONT’D)
Maybe he got stuck in traffic?
Emily rips paper. Freezes. Concert tickets.
She reads the band name — Taylor Swift. Her breath catches —
a silent gasp. Joy floods her face.
EMILY
No way.
Emily throws her arms around Mary, bouncing.
EMILY (CONT’D)
You remembered.
MARY
It’s this weekend!
Squeals. Emily towers quietly in the middle.
EXT. SANDERS’ HOUSE - FRONT YARD - CONTINUOUS
MS. CARMICHAEL (30s) hugs Mary. Emily flashes the tickets to
her BEST FRIEND.
MS. CARMICHAEL
Come with us this weekend. Lots of
wine. The girls can roam. Phones
don’t have reception.
MARY
Thank you. Next time.
Emily tugs her Best Friend’s arm.
EMILY
Want to see my secret hideout?
MS. CARMICHAEL
Come on, hon. We need to pack.
Best Friend peels off toward her mom. They wave.
Emily’s chin trembles.
Genres:
["Drama","Family"]
Ratings
Scene
9 -
A Birthday Missed
INT. DERRICK’S JEEP - NIGHT(MOVING)
Derrick weaves through traffic. Phone on speaker. He redials.
Again. No answer. Again.
DERRICK
I’m on my way — be there in five.
He runs a red light, swerves back into his lane, brakes at
the next light.
Up ahead, a car squats in the right lane. No blinker. No
movement.
He leans on the horn.
DERRICK (CONT’D)
Come on — move it!
INT. SANDERS’ HOUSE - EMILY’S ROOM - NIGHT
Mary steps in. Emily sobs, stuffed animals scattered.
Mary slides into bed, curls around her.
MARY
You okay?
EMILY
I’m fine.
She shrugs, avoids eye contact.
MARY
I’m sure it was an emergency.
EMILY
It’s always something.
Mary forces calm into her voice.
MARY
He’s going through a lot. We should
give him some space.
EMILY
How much time does he need?
MARY
I don’t know, baby. I hope not
long. He still has to finish the
spare room.
EMILY
He can’t touch my hideout!
MARY
He won’t.
Emily clutches the tickets.
Mary exhales. Brushes hair from Emily’s tear-streaked face.
Buster lets out a low growl. Then one sharp bark toward the
window.
EXT. SANDERS’ HOUSE - CURB - CONTINUOUS
Derrick pulls to the curb. Quiet street. Parked cars. The
porch light burns.
A barking dog in the distance.
He checks his watch: 8:30 p.m.
The house is mostly dark.
EXT. SANDERS’ HOUSE - FRONT DOOR - CONTINUOUS
Gift clutched, Derrick climbs the steps. He dials. Voicemail.
DERRICK
Mary... I’m sorry. I messed up.
He kills the call.
Through the window: a half-eaten cake. A pile of unopened
presents.
His grip tightens around the gift.
He opens the screen door. A crayon drawing slips out — three
figures, all smiles: Derrick, Mary, Emily.
He picks it up. Traces it with a thumb. A long breath.
He sets the gift behind the screen.
DERRICK (CONT’D)
Happy birthday, kiddo.
He lingers a second too long. Nothing.
He turns away.
INT. DERRICK’S JEEP - SANDERS’ HOUSE - CURB - CONTINUOUS
He sits, exhales.
Across the street, a dark SUV idles. A faint LED blinks.
INT. SANDERS’ HOUSE - EMILY’S ROOM - CONTINUOUS
Mary strokes Emily’s hair. They curl together on the bed.
A phone lights up on the dresser. Silent.
MARY
Did you like the tickets?
EMILY
Yeah.
MARY
I bet we hear from Daddy by
morning. Get some rest.
A NOISE downstairs. Both turn their heads.
EMILY
What was that?
MARY
Probably Buster.
Mary slips off the bed, picks up a SOCCER TROPHY like a bat.
INT. SANDERS’ HOUSE - HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS
Mary creeps down the stairs.
MARY
Buster... Buster...
INT. SANDERS’ HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS
She edges to the front door, peers through the peephole,
cracks the CHAIN LATCH.
Snatches the GIFT and NOTE from the mat.
Shuts, locks, sets the chain.
Genres:
["Drama","Family"]
Ratings
Scene
10 -
A Tense Night in the Sanders' Home
INT. SANDERS’ HOUSE - MASTER BEDROOM - CONTINUOUS
ON THE BED — the gift and Derrick’s note. The bow is smudged
with black soot. The trophy on the dresser.
A wedding photo catches her eye. A fond beat.
She flips it face down.
INT. SANDERS’ HOUSE - EMILY’S ROOM - CONTINUOUS
Mary in the doorway.
EMILY
What was it?
MARY
Your dad left a note and a present.
Emily smiles.
EMILY
Can I open it?
MARY
In the morning.
Emily pouts.
EMILY
Daddy would let me.
Mary exhales, steadies herself.
A FLOORBOARD CREAKS. Another. Mary freezes.
MARY
You’ve got to be kidding me.
She turns toward the sound. Back to Emily.
MARY (CONT’D)
Get to bed. Lights out.
She exits.
Genres:
["Drama","Family"]
Ratings
Scene
11 -
Turbulence in the Cockpit
INT. PLANE - COCKPIT - O’HARE AIRPORT - DAY
Rain freckles the windshield. The APU HUMS. Ramp floodlights
halo the jet bridge as it creeps in.
DERRICK
Parking brake set.
HAYES (30s), wiry, jittery, a too-earnest ‘70s mustache he
hasn’t earned yet, runs his flow.
HAYES
APU on. Engines off. Beacon off.
Shutdown complete.
Derrick’s fingers hover. Steady.
DERRICK
Copy. Blocks in... 06:25 noted.
The CHIME. Jet bridge thunks to the door.
HAYES
I’ll need a coffee.
DERRICK
You need to do better next time.
HAYES
What are you talking about old man?
DERRICK
You’re more worried about your
followers than your job.
Derrick’s face is flush. He rises.
Hayes eyes widen.
HAYES
You’ll miss me when I’m Captain.
Hayes slips out.
Derrick exhales. Jaw unclenches. Fighting the reflex.
Outside, rain taps harder. In the puddled ramp lights, a
shadow crosses the fuselage.
Genres:
["Drama","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
12 -
Pre-Flight Preparations
INT. PLANE - FORWARD GALLEY / L1 DOOR – CONTINUOUS
CONNIE (40s), veteran FA with a bulletproof smile, and RJ
(20s), stylish, sharp-witted, muscle under the vest, prep the
cabin. MIRANDA (20s) sharp, pins on her wings.
HAYES breezes through.
HAYES
Anyone need caffeine?
RJ
I’ll take a latte. And grab Miranda
something extra — future pilot
needs her brain fuel.
MIRANDA
Future pilot, current caffeine
addict. Don’t judge.
Hayes disappears up the jet bridge.
Derrick steps to the cockpit threshold, taking in the
organized chaos.
DERRICK
We doing this again?
CONNIE
Ask me after an on-time push.
She winks just enough to register. RJ drifts past, deadpan to
Connie.
RJ
Please. Think of my delicate heart.
Connie smothers a grin.
CONNIE
You want the pre-departure PA when
we board, Captain, or should I?
DERRICK
You take it. I’ll brief the
departure.
RJ
Copy, Captain. Showtime.
Connie squares to the interphone.
Derrick retreats to the cockpit.
INT. PLANE - COCKPIT - CONTINUOUS
Derrick, back at his seat—hands resting on the yoke.
A breath.
Genres:
["Drama","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
13 -
Preparing for Takeoff
INT. O’HARE AIRPORT TERMINAL - DAY
Concourse rush. Rolling suitcases, coffee lines, bleary eyes.
GATE AGENT (O.S.)
Boarding Flight 129 to Los Angeles,
Gate 32.
INT. PLANE - MAIN CABIN - DAY
CLEANERS sweep. CATERING CARTS clink. RJ, Miranda, and Connie
stage bins.
CONNIE
You’re with me up front today.
MIRANDA
Yes, ma’am. Ready.
CONNIE
You new?
MIRANDA
Yes Ma’am. I’m also taking pilot
lessons.
CONNIE
Interesting. Not sure I ever met a
Flight attendant that turned into a
pilot.
MIRANDA
Ma’am. You don’t turn into a pilot.
You earn it.
CONNIE
Don’t you call me ma’am.
RJ clocks her buzz, amused.
RJ
Deep breaths. Long day.
Genres:
["Drama","Family","Aviation"]
Ratings
Scene
14 -
Turbulence in the Cockpit
INT. PLANE - COCKPIT - CONTINUOUS
Rain freckles the glass. APU hums.
Hayes slips in. Rolls his shoulder. Casual stretch. Drops
into the seat.
DERRICK
You just had abdominal surgery and
you signed up for an out and back?
HAYES
I’m fine.
Derrick doesn’t look up. Flicks a switch.
DERRICK
Brilliant.
Hayes blinks.
HAYES
Doc cleared me. Mostly.
(beat)
Anyway, I’m wingsuiting again... If
I die, clear my browser history.
DERRICK
If you keep talking, you won’t have
to wait.
Hayes forces a laugh. Derrick doesn’t bite.
The hum of instruments fills the silence.
HAYES
I’m heading to the mountains as
soon as we land. Come with me. I’ve
got an extra suit.
DERRICK
Pass.
HAYES
Suit’s in the trunk. Just say the
word, Goose.
Derrick finally glances over. A long, flat look. No smile.
DERRICK
You done?
Hayes lifts a hand. Adjusts a dial.
A faint twinge crosses his face. He hides it.
Derrick clocks it.
DERRICK (CONT’D)
Don’t make me regret this flight
before pushback.
Hayes exhales, eyes forward.
Rain intensifies, drumming against the glass.
Silence.
Genres:
["Drama","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
15 -
Boarding Tensions
INT. PLANE - ENTRANCE - CONTINUOUS
The jet bridge HUMS.
Miranda smiles.
A PACK of ELEMENTARY-AGE BOYS floods on with CHAPERONES. The
LAST DAD avoids eye contact, one hand pressed to his stomach.
A TEEN GIRLS’ VOLLEYBALL TEAM files past, faces lit by
phones.
Connie slides in next to Miranda, already mid-decision.
CONNIE
You’re on First Class today. I’m
trading. Don’t ask.
MIRANDA
Wow! Thank you.
CONNIE
Not a reward. Go.
MIRANDA
Yes Ma— Yes.
An AISLE CHAIR AGENT assists a MAN IN WHEELCHAIR (mid-40s),
olive skin, mask up, eyes fluttering under lids.
As the blanket shifts — a soft click from beneath.
Miranda freezes; RJ, farther down the aisle, clocks the same.
A silent look between them.
MIRANDA (CONT’D)
Good morning, sir. Need anything
before we go?
AISLE CHAIR AGENT
He’s out.
MIRANDA
Poor guy.
The worker exits up the jet bridge.
Miranda retreats to the galley, mechanically pours water into
plastic cups.
TIM (30s) and ALEX (9) arrive.
TIM
First flight for this one.
MIRANDA
What’s your name, cutie?
ALEX
Alex.
MIRANDA
Nice to meet you, Alex. Let’s get
you some wings and a peek at the
cockpit.
She pins wings on his shirt and motions him forward.
Genres:
["Drama","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
16 -
Turbulence in the Cockpit
INT. PLANE - COCKPIT - CONTINUOUS
Miranda eases Alex into the doorway.
MIRANDA
This is Alex. It’s his first time
flying. This is Captain Sanders and
First Officer Hayes.
FIRST OFFICER HAYES
Well hello, Alex. You nervous?
ALEX
A little.
FIRST OFFICER HAYES
Nothing to worry about. We’ll get
you to Los Angeles safe and sound.
Alex peers past Hayes, points at Derrick.
ALEX
Wait... you’re that pilot that
freaked out on TikTok?!
Color flashes hot across Derrick’s face.
Hayes shifts, clears his throat.
Derrick flips a switch, then another, taps his pen too fast
against the checklist.
Miranda hustles Alex out. Door closes.
Derrick stares at the dark phone on his side ledge.
Deep breath. Neck crack.
He dives into the preflight.
INT. PLANE - MAIN CABIN - CONTINUOUS
A YOUNG MAN IN A HOODIE steps on. No bag. No carry-on. He
checks his boarding pass, starts down the aisle.
Miranda glances from the seat map to the aisle, then to the
wheelchair passenger, eyes closed.
MIRANDA
Mind switching?
She shows Man in a Hoodie his boarding pass with a quiet,
practiced smile. A beat. He looks at the seated man, then
back to her.
MAN IN HOODIE
Yeah. Whatever.
He slides into the alternate seat without fuss.
RJ ghosts up beside Miranda as she rechecks her manifest.
RJ
You feel that?
Miranda offers the tiniest shrug.
Genres:
["Drama","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
17 -
Turbulence of the Mind
INT. PLANE - COCKPIT - CONTINUOUS
Hayes grabs the PA handset.
FIRST OFFICER HAYES
(Christopher Walken voice)
Good evening, passengers. This is
your First Officer Lincoln Hayes.
If you’re hearing this...
Derrick’s side-eye is audible.
FIRST OFFICER HAYES (CONT’D)
(Al Pacino voice)
We’ve got Connie in the back,
Miranda up front, and RJ keeping it
fierce in the main cabin - hoo-ah.
DERRICK
You done?
FIRST OFFICER HAYES
Just getting warmed up.
DERRICK
Use that voice to ATC and I’m
grounding you myself.
EXT. PLANE - PUSHBACK/TAXI/TAKEOFF - MORNING
The tug pushes the plane back.
INT. PLANE - COCKPIT - CONTINUOUS
CHYRON: LOS ANGELES ETA - 4hrs 22mins.
Seatbelt sign ON. Door closed. Taxi.
HAYES
Before-takeoff checklist complete.
DERRICK
Runway heading. LNAV/VNAV armed.
Set takeoff thrust.
Nose up. Climb power. Flaps schedule. The city slides beneath
into rain-washed dark.
Derrick slides a photo of Emily from his pocket and tucks it
by the glare shield. Exhales.
A distinctive CHIME pings in the cockpit — two tones. The
COMM panel: COMPANY.
HAYES
Company’s pinging us?
Derrick keys his own selector.
DERRICK
I got it. Company, go ahead.
A filtered voice rides the line.
VOICE (O.S.)
Captain Sanders.
DERRICK (LOW)
Who’s this?
VOICE (O.S.)
What’s left of your mistake.
Derrick’s face drains in three heartbeats. Breath shallows.
The voice unnervingly calm:
VOICE (O.S.) (CONT’D)
When you’re holding the yoke, who’s
flying the plane?
DERRICK
Excuse me?
VOICE (O.S.)
Pilots and fathers love to believe
they’re in control. No calls. No
signals. Keep the line clear. We’re
watching.
The line drops. COMPANY CALL clears. Silence. Just engines
and rain.
Derrick’s fists clench, face flush. He SLAMS his fist on the
glare shield.
The STICK SHAKER BUZZES — airspeed decays as pitch creeps
high.
Hayes barks something swallowed by the alarm.
Derrick snaps back, hands re-centering, eyes ripping to the
tapes. He lowers the nose, adds thrust, trims.
The warning silences; the jet shudders through and settles.
A breath. Auto Pilot engages. Tone.
Hayes watches him, rattled but ready.
FIRST OFFICER HAYES
You good, Cap?
Derrick unclips, stands — pacing one tight step, then another
in the cramped space, fingertips pressed to his chin.
The photo of Emily glows faint in the panel spill. He forces
a breath in, then another.
Derrick jolts upright. Pale. Shaken.
FIRST OFFICER HAYES (CONT’D)
Who was that?
DERRICK
It was my daughter.
FIRST OFFICER HAYES
And?
DERRICK
I left her permission slip in my
Jeep. Weekend program at the nature
center.
FIRST OFFICER HAYES
Field trip... on a Saturday.
Derrick forces a smile.
Outside, the rain thins. Inside, the air is tight.
CHYRON: LOS ANGELES ETA 4hrs 17mins
INT. PLANE - MAIN CABIN - MOMENTS LATER
Miranda picks up the intercom.
MIRANDA
(into handset)
We’ve reached our cruising
altitude. The captain has turned
off the seat belt sign. Please use
caution when moving about the
cabin.
INT. PLANE - COCKPIT - MOMENTS LATER
Derrick stands in a daze, catches himself, keys the
interphone.
DERRICK
(into handset)
Flight deck coming out.
A two-tone chime; the cockpit lock cycles.
Hayes meets his eyes.
Derrick nods, sets the seat belt across the empty captain’s
seat, steps to the door.
Hayes rubs his side, a tiny wince — gone.
INT. PLANE - ENTRANCE - CONTINUOUS
RJ slides the peephole cover.
Miranda gives two knuckle taps.
Clear.
Miranda rolls the beverage cart across as a barrier, glancing
up the aisle.
RJ takes position at the forward galley.
Derrick steps out.
Miranda studies him.
MIRANDA
You all right? You get your rest?
Her words land a half-second late.
He nods once.
DERRICK
All good.
He slips past into the lav.
INT. PLANE - BATHROOM - CONTINUOUS
Derrick grips the sink. White-knuckled.
Sweat beads. The mirror stares back.
Seatbelt chime faintly in the distance.
He yanks paper towels, blots his face.
Collar straightened. Eyes hollow but focused.
He opens the door.
Genres:
["Drama","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
18 -
Turbulence in the Cabin
INT. PLANE - MAIN CABIN - CONTINUOUS
Derrick steps out.
RJ clocks the shake in his hands, the too-bright eyes.
Service ink peeks above his collar.
RJ
Everything all right, sir?
MIRANDA
I had a 24-hour bug once. Felt like
I got hit by a truck.
Derrick squints. Takes a second to read her name badge.
DERRICK
Miranda.
MIRANDA
Captain, if you need anything, say
the word.
DERRICK
I appreciate it.
He moves for the cockpit door.
RJ and Miranda trade a look. File it.
The cabin hums.
Passengers lean into their islands of light: phones,
magazines, snoozing heads.
Flight attendants move with polite efficiency.
Miranda is midway down the aisle, cart locked and calm.
At ROW 14, MRS. CALDWELL (60s), an elegant woman in a
cardigan, hands a clutch, shifts in her seat. She coughs
once, soft.
She grips the armrest, her face folding in sudden pain.
MRS. CALDWELL
ah!
Her lips go white. Her breath becomes shallow, quick.
Genres:
["Drama","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
19 -
Turbulence Ahead
INT. PLANE - COCKPIT - CONTINUOUS
Derrick slips inside. Door seals with a metal click.
He buckles in. Forces a slow exhale.
FIRST OFFICER HAYES
Your radios.
DERRICK
My radios.
He rests a palm on the yoke. Breath in, breath out.
The photo of Emily glows in the panel light.
Rain whispers along the glass.
The engines hum steady.
The cabin phone RINGS.
Hayes grabs it.
FIRST OFFICER HAYES
(into handset)
Cockpit.
(beat)
Copy - sick passenger, row
fourteen.
He hangs up.
DERRICK
Everything okay?
FIRST OFFICER HAYES
I’ll check.
Derrick nods.
Hayes exits. The cockpit lock cycles behind him.
Genres:
["Drama","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
20 -
Medical Emergency in the Skies
INT. PLANE - FRONT GALLEY - CONTINUOUS
Mrs. Caldwell hunches over.
Miranda scurries down the aisle.
MIRANDA
Ma’am? Are you okay?
Mrs. Caldwell’s grips the armrest. Her face folding.
Her chest rises too fast.
She coughs, then vomits a small, startling spray into the
air.
A CHILD starts to cry. A PHONE drops. Someone gasps.
MIRANDA (CONT’D)
Seatbelt on. Everyone stay seated.
A passenger, DR. PARK (40s), scrubby and efficient, rises
from a forward row.
He knives through the aisle with practiced authority.
Miranda steps aside and hands him an oxygen mask.
DR. PARK
Ma’am, I need you to squeeze my
hand if you can. Tell me if
anything hurts.
Mrs. Caldwell tries. Her fingers close once, then stop.
She makes a sound, then goes very still.
DR. PARK (CONT’D)
We need to land.
Dr. Park places the oxygen mask over Mrs. Caldwell’s face.
DR. PARK (CONT’D)
She decompensated fast with no
clear trigger. That’s atypical. I
can’t treat this in the cabin.
A PASSENGER mutters, “What do you mean, atypical?”
MIRANDA
What do you need?
DR. PARK
We need medics waiting at arrival.
Hayes approaches.
Dr. Park keeps working.
HAYES
Anything I can do?
DR. PARK
Keep the cabin calm. We don’t need
a crowd.
Mrs. Caldwell’s breaths grow further apart.
The child continues to cry.
A man in first-class stands, hands trembling.
DR. PARK (CONT’D)
Ma’am. Did you eat anything? Any
meds?
Mrs. Caldwell shakes her head.
MIRANDA
Passenger said she had a tea.
Nothing else.
Hayes turns back to the cabin as Dr. Park’s hands move with a
professional rhythm.
Mrs. Caldwell’s hand goes limp. A slow, small moan escapes a
passenger.
The plane hums on.
Genres:
["Drama","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
21 -
Turbulence of Fate
INT. PLANE - COCKPIT - DAY
Hayes slips inside. Door seals.
He buckles in. Forces a slow exhale.
HAYES
Older female, row fourteen. Looks
like a real one.
DERRICK
We need to land?
HAYES
Doctor on board says yes. Rapid
onset, no clear trigger.
DERRICK
Okay. I’ll talk to ATC.
A SELCAL TWO-TONE sounds; COMM annunciator flashes: COMPANY.
Derrick FREEZES. Hayes sees it now.
DERRICK (CONT’D)
I’ve got it.
Derrick selects the channel.
VOICE (O.S.)
You can’t land the plane.
Derrick’s eyes lift to Hayes.
DERRICK
We have a very sick passenger.
VOICE (O.S.)
I know. She won’t be around much
longer.
(beat)
You try to land... I blow it up.
The line clicks dead.
HAYES
Now what did your daughter forget?
A RING cuts the silence.
Hayes grabs the cabin handset.
HAYES (CONT’D)
(into handset)
Slow down.
(beat)
I’ll be right out.
DERRICK
Now what?
HAYES
She’s dead.
The cockpit hums. Rain snakes the glass.
Derrick stares through the windshield. Clouds, endless.
Hayes exits.
Genres:
["Drama","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
22 -
Crisis in the Aisle
INT. PLANE - FRONT GALLEY - CONTINUOUS
RJ checks the peephole. Miranda gives two knuckle taps.
She rolls the beverage cart across as a barrier. RJ plants at
the bulkhead.
MIRANDA
She’s dead.
HAYES
Ok. Calm down.
Miranda nods.
HAYES (CONT’D)
This happens. We need to get her
the last row. Put a blanket over
her. I’ll help.
MIRANDA
Something’s not right.
Miranda places a blanket over Mrs. Caldwell.
Hayes and RJ pick her up. Walk her down the aisle
nonchalantly.
MAN IN HOODIE
Hey. Is that lady dead?
MIRANDA
Everything is fine.
MAN IN HOODIE
That’s not what I asked. Is she
dead?
Miranda nods ever so slightly.
MAN IN HOODIE (CONT’D)
Get me off of this motherfucking
plane. Now.
MIRANDA
Sir. Please calm down.
MAN IN HOODIE
I ain’t staying on this plane with
a mother fuckin corpse.
Hayes looks back at Miranda.
They settle in Mrs. Caldwell’s body in the last row.
Hayes rushes up.
HAYES
Sir. We are doing everything we
can. We will land as soon as
possible.
MIRANDA
(mouths)
Thank you.
Hayes enters the cockpit.
Genres:
["Drama","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
23 -
Turbulence in the Cockpit
INT. PLANE - COCKPIT - DAY
Hayes slips inside. Door seals.
He buckles in.
HAYES
Where’re we landing.
DERRICK
We can’t.
Hayes puzzled.
HAYES
We can’t? We have a dead passenger
on board.
DERRICK
Something’s going on. We can’t
land.
HAYES
More please?
DERRICK
That wasn’t my daughter. I don’t
know what’s happening but we can't
land the plane or he will blow it
up.
HAYES
Who?
DERRICK
I don’t know.
Hayes picks up the radio.
Derrick slaps it out of his hands.
HAYES
What the fuck bro?
DERRICK
No comms. Lines have to be clear.
HAYES
This is bullshit.
A SELCAL TWO-TONE sounds; COMM annunciator flashes: COMPANY.
Derrick clicks the channel.
DERRICK
This is him. Stay cool.
VOICE (O.S.)
Hello, Captain.
DERRICK
Just tell me what you want.
VOICE (O.S.)
You can’t give me what I want. You
took it.
DERRICK
I think you have me confused buddy.
VOICE (O.S.)
I don’t think so. You have just a
few hours to make things right.
We’re watching.
The line goes. Dead.
HAYES
And?
DERRICK
He said I took something away from
him. I have no clue.
HAYES
How could he blow up the plane?
DERRICK
I don’t know. I’m going to walk the
aisle.
Outside, clouds slide past the wings
CHYRON: LAX ETA 2hr 46mins
Genres:
["Thriller","Mystery","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
24 -
Vigilant Watch
INT. PLANE - FRONT GALLEY - CONTINUOUS
RJ checks the peephole. Miranda gives two knuckle taps.
She rolls the beverage cart across as a barrier. RJ plants at
the bulkhead.
Derrick steps out.
DERRICK
Seatbelt sign stays on. Keep the
aisle clear.
Lights dimmed. Islands of glow from reading lamps.
Soft cabin hum.
RJ heads to the aft.
Miranda preps drinks, eyes on him.
MIRANDA
Feeling better?
DERRICK
Yeah. Fine.
He scans. Faces. Hands. Bags.
INT. PLANE - AISLE - CONTINUOUS
He moves aft at a normal pace.
Hoodie Guy nods to his music, headphones in.
A Wheelchair Passenger sits unmoving, chin tucked, blanket
neat.
14C, a college-kid vibe, thumbs a mobile game.
17D, a woman with a paperback, glasses low, doesn’t look up.
28F, scruffy, typing furiously. Derrick nears, the phone
vanishes to his pocket.
Row 30, three friends whisper in Spanish; a beat of low
laughter.
Last row, NEWLYWEDS, lost in each other.
Derrick keeps moving. Watching. Counting.
Genres:
["Drama","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
25 -
Suspicion in the Aft Galley
INT. PLANE - AFT GALLEY - CONTINUOUS
RJ is mid-whisper with Connie by the coffee pots.
Derrick steps in.
DERRICK
You two have a minute?
Connie straightens; RJ clocks Derrick’s tone.
RJ
Everything alright, Captain?
DERRICK
Anyone reading off? Fidgety. Phone-
heavy.
RJ
28F. Glued to his screen.
DERRICK
Bring him back here. Keep it easy.
RJ
On it.
RJ slips into the aisle.
DERRICK
Connie, cover the forward galley a
few.
CONNIE
Yes, Captain.
Connie heads forward. Derrick is alone with the metal and
hum.
He exhales once, steadying.
In the bathroom sign above - a faint COMM light flickers
green.
RJ stops at 28F — mid-20s, scruffy, hood up, phone in hand.
Thumbs blur. Headphones in.
RJ
Sir.
No response. RJ taps his shoulder.
28F flinches, one earcup sliding off.
PASSENGER 28F
Yeah?
RJ
Captain requests you in the aft
galley.
PASSENGER 28F
I don’t think so.
RJ’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes.
RJ
Privately. Now.
28F catches passengers watching.
He rises. Tense.
PASSENGER 28F
Fine.
RJ falls in beside him, casual but blocking the aisle.
Genres:
["Drama","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
26 -
Turbulence of Suspicion
INT. PLANE - AFT GALLEY – CONTINUOUS
Derrick waits. Composed. Unreadable.
Connie hovers just out of sight.
DERRICK
You’ve been on that phone since
wheels-up. Who are you talking to?
PASSENGER 28F
You really shouldn’t raise your
voice up here, Captain. Makes
people nervous.
Derrick’s face flush, veins ticking in his neck.
He flexes his fingers once — releases them.
DERRICK
Today is your lucky day.
PASSENGER 28F
That’s funny.
DERRICK
I’ve been told I have a bit of an
anger issue. I’m learning to try to
stay calm.
PASSENGER 28F
This is calm?
DERRICK
Trust me you don’t want me to get
angry.
PASSENGER 28F
My girlfriend. She’s pissed I
didn’t call from the terminal.
Derrick studies the darting eyes, the tight shoulders.
His voice stays level.
DERRICK
RJ. Bring his bin down. Everything.
RJ moves off.
28F’s knee stops bouncing.
PASSENGER 28F
This is harassment.
DERRICK
Sit.
28F glares but sinks into the jump seat.
RJ returns with a small backpack, frayed.
RJ
Overhead above 28. Only these.
He sets the backpack on the cart.
A beat.
The zipper is split an inch. The flap gapes.
Inside:
— a flat, matte-black device — wallet-sized
— wires coiled tight, taped in place
— a recessed LED pulsing steady and slow
Connie stiffens in the doorway.
Derrick exhales through his nose, calm and measured.
His eyes flick forward — to the Wheelchair Passenger,
perfectly still.
Derrick glances back at 28F.
PASSENGER 28F
You think I wanted this?
DERRICK
Not a word.
He lifts the device with calm precision. Examines it quickly.
Memorizing weight, feel, wiring.
RJ and Connie’s eyes lock on the device, uneasy.
He slides it inside a galley storage bin.
DERRICK (CONT’D)
Quiet call. Only Hayes.
Connie nods and moves.
One of the NEWLYWEDS phone out pointed at Derrick.
Deep breath.
Derrick looks back at 28F, voice cold.
DERRICK (CONT’D)
We’ll talk after we land.
PASSENGER 28F
You don’t get it. Once it starts...
nobody walks away.
The LED pulses in sync with Derrick’s heartbeat.
DERRICK
Secure him. Strap him in.
RJ moves. Connie reaches for restraints. 28F’s jaw clenches.
A faint vibration under 28F’s sleeve.
He frowns — scratches at it.
His body stiffens.
Eyes roll.
He exhales once. Dead.
Derrick lifts up his sleeve.
A small injection device implanted in his arm.
RJ
What the fuck is going on?
DERRICK
That isn’t from the street.
The hum of the engines swallows the words.
CHYRON: LAX ETA - 2hrs 04mins
Genres:
["Thriller","Mystery","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
27 -
Threatening Shadows
INT. PLANE - COCKPIT - DAY
Sunset glare. A quilt of bright cloud tops races under the
nose.
The cockpit is all hush and hydraulics.
The door bolts.
Derrick slips in hot, breath high, eyes lit with panic.
A SELCAL TWO-TONE sounds; COMM annunciator flashes: COMPANY.
He clicks the channel.
DERRICK
Yeah?
VOICE (V.O.)
Good work, Captain. One down.
(beat)
Now... how many more?
Derrick goes rigid.
VOICE (V.O.)
You checked bags. Smart.
But who checks people?
DERRICK
I don’t know what you think I did
to you but your sadly mistaken.
VOICE (V.O.)
Let’s ask your wife what she
thinks?
MARY
(muffled)
Derrick!!
CLICK. Dead air.
The cockpit hum swallows it.
Genres:
["Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
28 -
Ticking Tension
INT. SANDERS' HOUSE - BASEMENT - DAY
Concrete chill. Fluorescents buzz. The DOLLHOUSE stares from
the corner.
Mary’s head slumps to her chest, bound, gagged, eyes flinty.
A drip somewhere. Slow. Metronomic.
FATU (40s), Polynesian, inked forearms, steps from the
shadows.
Fatu drags a KNIFE down the chair leg — shhhnk... shhhnk... —
never breaking eye contact with Mary.
Fatu motions with two fingers.
FATU
Upstairs. Keep watch.
The HENCHMAN limps up the stairs, boot taped, door creaks
shut.
The TECH’s muted monitors ghost blue across the wall, works
two rugged laptops on a folding table.
One screen shows the airline crew-ops portal and a public
flight-tracking map.
The other: Live ATC tabs queued (CLEARANCE/GROUND), volumes
down, transcripts scrolling idle.
A third phone shows a secure chat: “CHANNELS UP.”
JUNIOR (30s), ex-linebacker turned security chief, all in
black, lingers in the corner, arms folded, unreadable.
Fatu steps in close to Mary.
Fatu rises, slides the KNIFE back and forth across his palm —
testing the edge. He nods at Mary’s gag; Junior yanks it
down.
FATU (CONT’D)
Last time. Where is she?
MARY
(hoarse)
Gone.
She meets his stare. Doesn’t blink.
Fatu studies her. Calm as tide.
He crosses to the DOLLHOUSE, flips the tiny roof with his
thumb. A miniature closet swings open.
FATU
Every house has a hiding place. The
trick is air.
(leans in)
Even brave kids gasp.
Mary’s jaw trembles once. She locks it.
JUNIOR
Upstairs is clean. Attic, garage —
nothing. Back slider was cracked an
inch. Dog’s penned outside. Spare
room’s a mess. Closet track’s off.
Fatu sets the KNIFE point-down in the workbench wood — THOCK
— and twists a cheap KITCHEN TIMER to ten minutes. The tick-
tick fills the space.
FATU
When this dings, I start removing
pieces.
He plucks a SOCCER MEDAL from a pegboard, lets it dangle from
one finger.
FATU (CONT’D)
Ten minutes is generous. Check
return vents and crawlspace. She
didn’t vanish.
TECH
(eyes on feeds)
Looping through dispatch voice
relay. He won’t know we’re
piggybacked unless ops sweeps the
channel.
She toggles a feed; a thumbnail pops: a canted shot of the
cockpit and the aisle.
TECH (CONT’D)
Utility feed is clean. Ops creds
from the breach still good.
Fatu doesn’t look. He watches Mary. The TIMER TICKS.
He takes a family PHOTO off the wall — Mary, Derrick, Emily —
and lays it on the workbench beside the knife.
FATU
Pieces.
MARY
You think hurting me gets you her?
FATU
Hurting you keeps you honest.
The timer ticks.
Mary’s breath trembles.
Fatu’s reflection ripples in the dollhouse glass.
INT. PLANE - COCKPIT - DAY
Derrick looks all around. Cockpit closing in.
DERRICK
They have Mary.
Derrick’s knuckles blanch against the yoke.
HAYES
What does that mean?
Derrick’s fingers twitch. He drops into the seat, rubs his
temple once, hard.
DERRICK
Emily!
HAYES
Listen buddy. Focus.
DERRICK
They have my wife. Maybe my
daughter. He knew we found the bomb
and said to check people.
HAYES
Wait... inside? Jesus, Derrick.
The smallest nod from Derrick.
DERRICK
The bag was bait.
A soft altitude bip as the jet nicks a thermal and settles.
Daylight burns clean across the dash.
INT. SANDERS’ HOUSE - EMILY’S BEDROOM - CONTINUOUS
Emily crawls from under her bed. Freezes. Footsteps in the
hall. She bolts.
INT. SANDERS’ HOUSE - SPARE BEDROOM - CONTINUOUS
Room under construction. Tools, paint cans, plastic sheets.
Emily crawls low through the clutter. A NAIL juts from a
board — she barely misses it.
She slips into the closet, slides the door shut, fingers a
hidden seam.
INT. SANDERS’ HOUSE - SECRET ROOM - CONTINUOUS
She squeezes inside and pulls the panel closed.
She covers her mouth with both hands. Her breath fogs the
dark.
INT. SANDERS’ HOUSE - SPARE BEDROOM - CONTINUOUS
The Henchmen enters.
His boot presses down — CRUNCH.
He winces; a RUSTED NAIL punches the sole. Pain behind the
eyes.
He yanks free, favoring the foot.
He lifts plastic sheets. Nothing. Approaches the closet.
Slides it open...
Shoes. Coats. Nothing.
FATU (O.S.)
You find her?
Henchman turns away, frustrated, exits.
Genres:
["Thriller","Mystery","Suspense"]
Ratings
Scene
29 -
Surveillance Uncovered
INT. PLANE - FORWARD CABIN/GALLEY – NIGHT
Miranda moves up the bright aisle, unease prickling.
She pauses under a slightly crooked NO SMOKING placard.
She steps on an armrest, tilts the plastic.
Behind it: a black PINHOLE LENS, no bigger than a poppy seed.
MIRANDA
Oh my god.
Her stomach knots. Cold sweat prickles her neck.
RJ arrives with a coffee pot, follows her look.
RJ
That’s a camera.
MIRANDA
Someone’s watching.
Miranda smooths the placard back to perfect. Careful. Casual.
RJ lifts the interphone.
RJ
(into handset)
Coffee filter’s cracked. Requesting
galley consult.
INT. PLANE - COCKPIT - CONTINUOUS
Two knocks, beat, one. Peephole. Deadbolt cycles. Miranda and
RJ slide in; the door seals. Derrick and Hayes turn.
MIRANDA
We found something.
RJ’s already sketched the placard on a napkin; a tiny dot
labeled “eye.”
RJ
We’re being streamed from the
forward bulkhead.
DERRICK
That’s makes sense.
MIRANDA
Do we pull it?
DERRICK
No. I’m sure there are more.
He exhales once, the tremor gone. He looks up.
DERRICK (CONT’D)
Let’s give him the show he expects.
Genres:
["Thriller","Mystery"]
Ratings
Scene
30 -
Countdown of Terror
INT. SANDERS' HOUSE - BASEMENT - AFTERNOON
Concrete chill. Fluorescents buzz. The DOLLHOUSE stares from
the corner.
The KITCHEN TIMER on the bench ticks down: 03:12... 03:11...
Mary slumps bound, gagged — eyes flinty.
The Tech’s monitors ghost blue across the wall, silent feeds
scrolling.
Fatu motions with two fingers.
FATU
Upstairs. Keep watch.
The Henchman limps up the stairs. Door creaks shut.
Junior lingers in the corner, arms folded, stone still.
Fatu steps close.
FATU (CONT’D)
Think you can be quiet?
Mary nods once. He rips the tape away in one slow peel.
She drags in air — then spits in his face.
Fatu wipes it with the back of his hand. A small, amused
smile.
FATU (CONT’D)
Next time, I’ll soak you in
gasoline, light the match... then
blow it out right before you die.
His palm flashes — CRACK. Mary’s head whips, then steadies.
He crouches eye level.
FATU (CONT’D)
Where is your daughter?
MARY
(stammering)
She left with a friend. Zoe
Carmichael.
Fatu looks past her.
FATU
(to Junior)
You see the kid leave?
Junior’s chin tips.
JUNIOR
No.
MARY
I can wire you money.
Fatu’s smile fades. Calm, surgical.
FATU
Money won’t change a thing. By the
time this is over... they’ll
believe you were always the
villain.
Mary locks eyes, jaw set.
Fatu presses fresh tape over her mouth — slow, deliberate.
He lets a bead of spit fall onto her cheek. She flinches.
He sets the knife beside the ticking timer: 02:05... 02:04...
FATU (CONT’D)
If she’s lying —
(never looking away)
— take the tongue.
Junior stiffens. Doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink.
The room hums. The timer ticks.
Genres:
["Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
31 -
Hiding in Fear
INT. SANDERS’ HOUSE - HIDDEN ROOM - DAY
Emily crouches in the crawl-space dark, phone cupped, voice
barely a breath.
Outside the panel, Buster WHINES — soft, urgent.
EMILY
No... no... go.
She eases him out through the gap. Pulls back into shadow.
Screen black. Holding her breath.
INT. SANDERS’ HOUSE - UPSTAIRS HALLWAY – DAY
Footfalls. The Henchman stops, head tilted.
HENCHMAN
You hear that?
Junior appears behind him, chewing, casual but sharp-eyed.
JUNIOR
Yeah. From the kid’s room.
Guns low. They move with quiet precision.
INT. SANDERS’ HOUSE - EMILY’S ROOM – CONTINUOUS
Buster paces by the bed, claws clicking.
A low GROWL builds in his chest.
The door opens. The men sweep in.
HENCHMAN
Easy, mutt.
JUNIOR
She’s close. I can feel it.
Buster bares teeth. The Henchman steps, scoops him up.
A muffled YELP.
Silence.
INT. SANDERS’ HOUSE - HIDDEN ROOM – CONTINUOUS
Emily clamps a hand over her mouth. Nails bite her palm. Her
pulse drums in her ears. Tears slick. She doesn’t breathe.
INT. SANDERS’ HOUSE - EMILY’S ROOM – CONTINUOUS
Junior stares.
JUNIOR
What the hell, man?
HENCHMAN
I hate dogs.
Junior turns to the walls, listens to the house breathe.
HENCHMAN (CONT’D)
Hear that, princess? That was
mercy. I’m out of it.
They search: closet, under-bed, vent grates. Nothing.
INT. SANDERS’ HOUSE - HIDDEN ROOM – CONTINUOUS
Emily trembles. A sound fights to climb her throat. She
swallows it, hard. The phone stays dark in her hand.
INT. SANDERS’ HOUSE - EMILY’S ROOM - CONTINUOUS
The Henchman lingers at the closet. Eyes narrow.
A seam. Off. Just a hair.
His jaw tightens. He turns away.
HENCHMAN
Clear.
They back out. The door eases shut.
Genres:
["Thriller","Suspense","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
32 -
Countdown in the Basement
INT. SANDERS' HOUSE - BASEMENT - DAY
The room hums with quiet tension.
Fatu sits alone for a moment, monitors glowing cold.
He opens his wallet.
A photo — his son, his daughter-in-law, the baby — sun in
their faces.
His thumb lingers over the baby’s smile.
His jaw works. Not anger.
The photo folds shut.
On the monitors, Derrick’s plane slices through clouds.
The KITCHEN TIMER ticks: 0:22... 00:21...
The TECH works two rugged laptops; waveforms and a dispatch
portal glow.
Mary sits bound, gagged, head low, eyes hard.
Fatu paces. Junior stands off, arms folded, phone in hand.
FATU
Anything?
JUNIOR
Kid’s got a Zoe Carmichael in her
class.
Punches numbers in the phone.
JUNIOR (CONT’D)
Voicemail.
He clicks off, shakes his head.
FATU
She’s still in this house.
(to Tech) Bring up the company
patch.
The timer BUZZES.
The Tech taps a sequence. A green light blinks: CHANNEL LIVE
Genres:
["Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
33 -
Turbulence in the Cockpit
INT. PLANE - COCKPIT - NIGHT
Cruise. The jet hums like a held breath.
Derrick stares at the manifest, soaked collar clinging to his
neck. His hand trembles, he steadies it against the yoke.
DERRICK
Cabin swept. Bins, lavs, seatbacks
— clean. Lower holds are sealed.
HAYES
Nothing in the galley carts.
Nothing under a seat.
Silence. Derrick lifts his eyes, a terrible clarity.
DERRICK
Not in a bag.
(beat)
In a body.
Hayes goes still, the weight of it settling - slow and
steady.
HAYES
Who?
DERRICK
We need to figure that out. Quick.
The cockpit hums. Outside, the sky burns clean and quiet.
A SELCAL TWO-TONE sounds; the COMM annunciator flashes:
COMPANY CALL.
Derrick flinches, keys the audio — professional, flat.
DERRICK (CONT’D)
Company, go ahead.
FATU (O.S.)
Send your copilot on a cabin check.
Now.
Hayes hears only Derrick’s side. He watches him.
DERRICK
Can you check a galley latch?
HAYES
On it.
The cockpit lock cycles behind him.
FATU (O.S.)
Where’s your daughter?
DERRICK
I don’t know.
FATU (O.S.)
You’re both playing me.
Genres:
["Thriller","Mystery","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
34 -
Twisted Game
INT. SANDERS' HOUSE - BASEMENT - CONTINUOUS
Fatu’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes.
He crosses to a dusty shelf, pulls down a TWISTER box.
He lays it on the bench like an altar, opens it, sets the
SPINNER.
FATU
We’ll play a little game.
He nods at Junior.
Mary’s gag is peeled off.
She pulls air like it hurts.
FATU (CONT’D)
Spin.
Mary holds his stare. Nothing.
FATU (CONT’D)
Captain. Tell your wife to spin.
DERRICK (O.S.)
Mary... do it.
A beat. Mary reaches. The spinner clicks, plastic gunshots in
the small room. Slows... stops: LEFT HAND – BLUE.
Fatu savors it. Looks to the ceiling, to the invisible
cockpit.
FATU
Captain. A number. One to five.
INT. AIRPLANE COCKPIT - CONTINUOUS
Derrick’s fist knuckles white.
DERRICK
Five.
He closes his eyes.
Genres:
["Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
35 -
Silent Defiance
INT. SANDERS' HOUSE - BASEMENT - CONTINUOUS
Fatu lifts Mary’s right hand. Counts, soft.
FATU
One... two... three... four...
five.
He takes her pinky. Breath steady.
The blade comes down — clean. Metal meets wood. Mary bucks
against the chair, a scream torn thin behind the tape.
Fatu presses the timer crown. The ticking dies.
Silence rushes in, heavier than the noise.
He drops the cheap timer into a drawer and slides it shut.
Junior moves — gauze, tape—wrapping what’s left of her
finger.
The Tech doesn’t look up; the green “LIVE” light blinks on.
FATU (CONT’D)
Next time, I won’t be gentle.
DERRICK (O.S.)
What do you want?
FATU
Three dead. Burned into me.
DERRICK (O.S.)
I don’t. I don’t understand.
FATU
You don’t need to understand. I
don’t need your daughter yet. I
will find her.
The drawer slides shut on the dead timer. The green LIVE
light keeps blinking. Mary lifts her chin.
Genres:
["Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
36 -
High-Stakes Ultimatum
INT. AIRPLANE COCKPIT - CONTINUOUS
Derrick folds over the yoke, a hand to his mouth, fighting
sound.
DERRICK
What are you going to do?
FATU (O.S.)
You forgot. I didn’t. I never will.
DERRICK
I will — what?
FATU (O.S.)
Decide. Crash that airplane into
the Pacific... or listen while we
take your family apart, piece by
piece.
Silence. Engine rumble. Derrick shakes.
FATU (O.S.) (CONT’D)
If you don’t decide, both happen.
The COMPANY CALL drops. The cockpit is suddenly too small.
INT. SANDERS' HOUSE - BASEMENT - CONTINUOUS
Mary’s eyes blaze above the fresh bandage.
Fatu wipes the bench with a dish towel like he’s closing a
kitchen.
FATU
Bet he’s earning that paycheck now.
Junior’s mouth twitches — almost a smile.
JUNIOR
He’s gonna do it.
Genres:
["Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
37 -
Turbulence of Threat
INT. AIRPLANE COCKPIT - CONTINUOUS
A coded knock: two, beat, one.
Derrick checks the peephole, flips the deadbolt, cracks the
door.
Hayes stands there with a paper cup. Derrick grips his
sleeve, yanks him inside, throws the latch.
FIRST OFFICER HAYES
What did he say?
DERRICK
They cut off her finger.
Hayes freezes. Processing.
FIRST OFFICER HAYES
Jesus... Who?
DERRICK
I don’t know. He thinks I did
something to him or his family.
Hayes meets his eyes.
He sets the coffee down, steady palm to Derrick’s shoulder.
FIRST OFFICER HAYES
We need to call this in.
Light chop ripples the panel. Both men slide back into their
seats; belts click.
A soft altitude alerter blips as the jet rides the wave and
settles.
DERRICK
No comms. He’s in company channels.
You key that, he thinks we called
for help.
Derrick hesitates, then flips the SEATBELT sign on.
DERRICK (CONT’D)
I have an idea.
Hayes nods.
Derrick’s fingers tight on the yoke, the photo of Emily
watching from the glare shield.
Genres:
["Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
38 -
Tension in the Shadows
INT. SANDERS' HOUSE - SPARE BEDROOM - MORNING
The hidden panel shifts a finger’s width. Emily’s eye. Clear.
She slides out low, cat-crawls through sawdust and streaks of
paint.
Two long nails glint on the drop cloth. She palms them.
INT. SANDERS’ HOUSE - BASEMENT - DAY
A blood-specked gauze unwinds into a trash can.
Fatu stands in the half-light, hands on the PLUSH TURTLE,
eyes never leaving Mary, bound and breathing hard.
FATU
Talk to me.
TECH
Forward lens is still live. Angle
hasn’t changed. They didn’t pull
it.
(glances to the monitor)
Patch is clear. No new company call
since we keyed him. ACARS quiet.
ATC routine. ETA moved up two
minutes — tailwind.
She taps a key. The forward feed shows a FA’s elbow flash
past, then empty aisle again. Fatu clocks everything.
TECH (CONT’D)
Seatbelt sign cycled on, stayed on.
They’re using “light chop” to
justify a sweep. Front to mid.
Nothing loud. No tells on the line.
Fatu turns the SOCCER MEDAL he took from the pegboard, the
ribbon hissing in his fingers.
FATU
The mule?
TECH
Good.
Fatu nods once.
FATU
And the other?
TECH
Stable. No flags since push.
He sets the medal down beside the kitchen knife. He studies
Mary.
FATU
He’s rattled. But flying.
TECH
The second he deviates from
profile, we light him again.
FATU
Not yet.
He picks up the family PHOTO — Mary, Derrick, Emily — places
it back down precisely.
FATU (CONT’D)
“One for one.” He understands that
now.
She scrolls; the cockpit feed stays placid. Coffee service
passes through frame like a metronome.
TECH
You want the house pulled tighter?
I can cold the vents, make her come
up for air.
FATU
No. She’ll surface when the mother
breaks.
Mary’s eyes blaze above the tape. She doesn’t blink.
The Tech’s phone buzzes — silent. She checks a secure line:
“FORWARD HOLD: GREEN.”
TECH
Airport ops just flipped their
arrival flow. He’ll be sequenced
longer.
A small, satisfied exhale from Fatu.
FATU
Good. Let him sit with it.
He straightens, all calm steel.
FATU (CONT’D)
Next call, put it on the wall. Let
her hear every word.
TECH
Copy.
Fatu nods to the forward feed—the tiny pinhole watching,
watched in return.
FATU
Eyes open. Hands steady. No noise
unless I say.
TECH
Understood.
Mary sweats at her hairline, jaw locked.
The green “LIVE” light on the laptop blinks its quiet
metronome.
The room hums.
Genres:
["Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
39 -
A Desperate Rescue
INT. SANDERS’ HOUSE – STAIRCASE – DAY
Wood treads. Emily creeps down.
One palm on the rail, the other ghosts the wall.
Two long nails flash in her fist.
INT. SANDERS’ HOUSE – LIVING ROOM – CONTINUOUS
The Henchman stands sentry at the window. Junior sprawls on
the couch, snacking, a phone held too close.
HENCHMAN
How much longer?
JUNIOR
Not long.
TECH (O.S.)
Signal’s bouncing. I’m checking the
garage antenna.
Emily tucks lower, listening.
INT. SANDERS’ HOUSE – BOTTOM OF STAIRS/HALLWAY – CONTINUOUS
Shadow to shadow. The SMART TV sits dark on the credenza,
Apple TV pulsing a pinprick status light.
ON EMILY’S PHONE — HOME APP
“Living Room Apple TV — Connected.”
She slides the volume all the way up. Thumb hovers. Tap:
Power.
INT. SANDERS’ HOUSE – LIVING ROOM – CONTINUOUS
The TV EXPLODES to life. An old sitcom theme song.
HENCHMAN
What the...?
JUNIOR
You do that?
HENCHMAN
Hell no.
They step to the set. Bickering. Jabbing the remote. The
laugh track whoops.
INT. SANDERS’ HOUSE – HALLWAY/KITCHEN THRESHOLD – CONTINUOUS
Emily ghosts past the couch back, vanishes into...
INT. SANDERS’ HOUSE – KITCHEN – CONTINUOUS
She sinks behind the island. Breath counts. The theme climbs
to its chorus.
INT. SANDERS’ HOUSE – KITCHEN / BASEMENT DOOR - CONTINUOUS
Black-painted door. Cheap latch.
She eases the knob as the theme hits a cymbal crash. The
CREAK swallowed by applause.
She slips a nail to the latch, works it until the catch
kisses free. A soft click.
INT. SANDERS’ HOUSE – BASEMENT – CONTINUOUS
Concrete cold. Tool shadows.
Mary slumps taped to a chair, head low. A rough bandage where
a pinky should be. Her breath whistles, shallow and ragged.
Footsteps thud overhead. Voices drift, muffled. A door shuts
somewhere distant.
Genres:
["Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
40 -
Suspicion in the Skies
INT. PLANE - AISLE - DAY
Cabin dimmed to amber. Seatbelt sign ON. The low, constant
HUM.
RJ cracks the forward curtain just enough; a paper cup
appears in Derrick’s hand. He steps into the aisle, slow,
measured.
DERRICK (V.O.)
Scan. Don’t stare. Build the
picture.
He moves.
ROW 6 — A GRAY HOODIE, head low, earbuds in. Elbows on the
tray. Stays coiled when Derrick passes. No glance, no
courtesy nod.
DERRICK (V.O.)
Tunneled. Either hiding — or high.
ROW 8 — WHEELCHAIR PASSENGER, mask on, hands buried beneath a
blanket. Head pitched slightly forward, eyes half-lidded.
No shoulder rise. Still.
DERRICK (V.O.)
Too still.
ROW 10 — A PRIEST. He dabs a napkin to his collar; a rust-red
fleck stains the white. He frowns, tucks the napkin away,
crosses himself out of habit.
DERRICK (V.O.)
Sauce—or signal?
ROW 12 — “SLEEPER” in mirrored aviators, mouth open,
headphones crooked. The glasses don’t tilt with the plane’s
small shimmy.
No breath in the throat. No chest lift.
DERRICK (V.O.)
Playing possum.
Derrick keeps moving, the cup steady in his hand.
ROW 14 — Alex, cross-legged, drawing. Headphones on.
Beside him, his Father stares straight ahead, knuckles white
on the armrest, sweat stippling at the hairline.
Derrick crouches to Alex’s level, an easy tuck behind the
seatback.
DERRICK
That you? That’s a good plane.
Alex beams, shows the drawing: Alex, Dad, a house... a PLANE
above.
A red crayon streak sits at Dad’s hip — right where a FLASH
OF WHITE SURGICAL TAPE peeks above his waistband.
ALEX
They said don’t touch Daddy’s tape.
Derrick masks it with a warm nod.
DERRICK
Keep coloring for me, co-pilot.
FIRST OFFICER HAYES (O.S.)
(over PA)
We have started our initial
descent.
He rises, neutral. Dad risks a glance; the half-smile dies
before it lands.
DERRICK (V.O.)
Could be...
RJ watches from the galley, reading Derrick’s face without
asking.
Further aft — EXIT ROW. A YOUNG MAN sits very straight, hands
flat on thighs. Calm. Too calm.
His eyes lock on Derrick as he approaches. They hold.
The man smiles — too wide, too fast — then looks away like he
trained it.
Derrick moves past, heart rate steady by will alone. He sips
the prop cup, turns at the bulkhead, scans back the length of
the tube — every seat a story, every story a clock.
DERRICK (V.O.)
One of them is carrying it.
He pivots, headed forward, pace unchanged. The cup never
shakes.
Genres:
["Thriller","Mystery","Suspense"]
Ratings
Scene
41 -
Desperate Measures
INT. SANDERS’ HOUSE - BASEMENT - DAY
Cold breath of concrete. Condensation crawls the cinderblock.
A single bulb ticks and buzzes.
Emily edges off the last stair, weight on the rail, careful
as a cat.
Mary, bound and gagged, head bowed. Bruised but breathing.
Her eyes lift. A muffled cry.
EMILY
Mom...
Emily crosses fast on her knees, fingers at the knots.
A loose board murmurs under her sneaker.
She freezes. Holds air.
A shadow glides up the wall behind her.
A hand clamps her ankle and yanks. Emily yelps, scrapes
palms, dragged backwards on concrete.
Fatu steps out of the dark, unhurried. Calm. The kind of
smile that never reaches the eyes.
FATU
You must be Emily.
Mary thrashes, gag-scream ripping under the tape.
Fatu hoists Emily into the second chair opposite Mary. Tape
rips from the roll — RIIIIIP — wrists bound, ankles bound,
quick and neat.
EMILY
Leave my mom alone!
FATU
That depends on your papa.
He crouches until he’s in her breath, measuring her like a
jeweler with a stone.
FATU (CONT’D)
Your papa made a very big mistake.
EMILY
What did you do to him?
FATU
Gave him a choice. One he didn’t
give me.
Emily spits.
Fatu wipes it with a thumb. Still smiling.
FATU (CONT’D)
You are your mother’s daughter.
A POCKET BUZZ. He checks his phone; the smile cools. He turns
to a folding table.
The Tech sits at the monitors; a grainy split-screen shows
the airplane cabin, Derrick ghosting down the aisle.
FATU (CONT’D)
Has he found it?
TECH
Not yet.
Fatu glances at his watch.
FATU
Twenty-eight minutes.
EMILY
You’re sick.
He steps to Mary, gentle as a hairdresser, tucks a strand
behind her ear; Mary flinches but doesn’t look away.
FATU
Don’t worry. You’ll get to watch
everything.
He straightens, already done with them.
He mounts the stairs. The door above closes—
THUNK. A bolt drops home.
Silence rushes in with the damp.
Emily turns to Mary, tears brimming, rage keeping them from
falling.
EMILY
I’m sorry, Mommy.
Mary shakes her head, urgent, eyes cutting left — down. Emily
follows the look:
A RUSTED SCREWDRIVER lies just beyond reach, half under a
shelf.
Mary juts her chin toward it. Emily nods.
The Tech glances... back to the monitors.
She shifts, twists, shoulders burning.
The tape bites.
The two long NAILS in her pocket press crescents into her
palm — she rolls one between bound fingers, angles it like a
tiny saw against the tape.
Mary hooks the edge of the screwdriver with her bare toes,
inching it. Scuff. Inch. Scuff. Closer.
The Tech’s gaze stays glued to the monitors.
Emily stretches, fingers trembling.
The screwdriver’s handle kisses her fingertips —
FOOTSTEPS above. Quick. Heavy. Crossing.
Emily freezes. Hope flickers anyway.
EMILY (CONT’D)
Come on, Dad...
Emily barely scrapes the tape with the NAIL.
Fibers fray, a sting from skin.
Genres:
["Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
42 -
Descent into Danger
INT. PLANE - COCKPIT – DAY
Instrument glow. Light chop. The altimeter unwinds.
ATC (V.O.)
Flight 129, descend and maintain
two zero thousand.
HAYES
Leaving three six zero for two zero
zero, Flight 129.
He selects V/S, eases power. Reaches for the checklist. Sweat
beads at his temple.
DERRICK
You good? You’re pouring.
Hayes forces a shrug. A sharp twist hits his right side. His
breath catches.
HAYES
... Ah — God.
He folds, a hand clamping his hip.
DERRICK
Hayes.
Pale. Clammy. Hayes swallows, lifts his shirt: an adhesive
bandage above the waistband, edges angry.
Derrick peels it. Fresh sutures. Heat rolling off the skin.
FLASHBACK BEGINS
INT. DOCTORS OFFICE - DAY
Low light. The WOMAN’s smile. The room smears. Eyes flutter.
A shadow leans to his ear.
SHADOW (V.O.)
One inside. One outside.
Black.
FLASHBACK ENDS:
Hayes blinks hard, voice low.
HAYES
They used me.
Beat.
HAYES (CONT’D)
I’m a mule.
Derrick absorbs it.
He shrugs out of his jacket. Tosses it to the sidewall; the
fabric lands over a pinhole lens.
DERRICK
There’s another.
Hayes nods, fighting the pain.
Derrick drops to a steel case under his seat, lifts the lid:
a folded black wingsuit.
His hand slips briefly to his chest pocket.fingers brushing
the wallet-sized device, the faint pulse of its LED under the
fabric.
His jaw sets.
HAYES
Don’t die for me.
DERRICK
Not planning to.
He zips the suit to his chest with quick, practiced pulls.
HAYES
The bag in back?
DERRICK
Decoy.
The altitude alerter chirps a crossing. 25... 24...
Derrick keys the interphone, voice even.
DERRICK (INTO INTERPHONE) (CONT’D)
Miranda, Get that Doctor on the
radio and some vodka.
He kills the line, leans in to Hayes.
DERRICK (LOW) (CONT’D)
We get that thing out of you. Keep
it normal. ATC hears normal. Cabin
sees normal. He doesn’t see us.
Hayes nods, jaw tight.
HAYES
If I’m hot — if it’s heat or
movement.
DERRICK
Then we don’t give it either. Stay
still. Stay cool.
A soft knock. Deadbolt cycles.
Miranda’s hand slides in two mini bottles of vodka.
Door clicks shut.
Derrick snaps a pack, layers it over the sutures through
gauze. Hayes exhales, shaky.
HAYES
What’s the play?
Derrick’s eyes hard, calm.
DERRICK
We stage a pressure reset. Belts
on, cabin secure, everyone slumps
for a minute. I move while the room
sleeps.
HAYES
You’re going to jump.
DERRICK
I’m going to extract the carrier.
Nods, once.
Derrick points at Hayes’ throat.
DERRICK (CONT’D)
You’ve practiced my voice enough.
One take — don’t blow it.
CHYRON: LAX ETA 0hrs 26mins
Genres:
["Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
43 -
The Tension of Hope
INT. SANDERS’ HOUSE – BASEMENT – DAY
Monitors gutter, a bar of STATIC crawling left to right.
The room hums with fans and fluorescent buzz.
Fatu leans into the snow of the dead feed.
FATU
What just happened?
The Tech’s fingers flick over keys, calm, clinical.
TECH
Cockpit lens is occluded. Could be
fabric over the eye.
(beat)
Cabin cams are still clean.
Fatu straightens.
He turns to Mary and Emily.
FATU
I used to believe a father would do
anything to save his family.
He lets the thought drift toward Emily.
FATU (CONT’D)
Maybe I was wrong.
EMILY
You are. My dad’s coming.
Fatu crouches to Emily’s level, intrigued rather than
irritated.
FATU
Confidence is flammable.
(leans in, a whisper)
You know what happens when heroes
get clever?
He produces a small REMOTE. Presses once. A meek CONFIRMATION
CHIRP.
A tiny LED blinks red.
FATU (CONT’D)
They forget there’s always someone
watching from below.
He pockets the remote.
FATU (CONT’D)
ETA.
TECH
Twenty-two minutes.
He nods.
FATU
Put them front row.
The Tech taps.
A SECOND MONITOR blooms: grainy CABIN FEED — aisles, heads,
the soft sway of a flying room.
She splits the view: wide and forward galley, side-by-side.
Fatu drags a metal stool between them, perfectly aligned with
the screen.
He sets the stool down softly. PLUSH TURTLE in his hands.
FATU (CONT’D)
Eyes up.
Mary lifts her chin. Emily does too.
On the monitor; PASSENGERS doze; a flight attendant ghosts
past; an EXIT SIGN pulses.
Fatu watches, not blinking. A faint smile grows like a crack.
FATU (CONT’D)
There you are.
Mary’s nails dig into her palms.
The Tech’s green LIVE light winks.
Genres:
["Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
44 -
Emergency Extraction
INT. PLANE - COCKPIT - DAY
Wind whispers along the glass. Hayes lies semi-conscious,
skin ashen, blood dark through his shirt.
Derrick tightens the shoulder harness, cinches it across
Hayes’s chest.
HAYES
Don’t... do this.
DERRICK
You’d do the same.
He keys the interphone.
DERRICK (CONT’D)
(into handset)
Dr. Park, it’s Captain Sanders. You
still with me?
A crackle. Then the faint, calm voice.
DR. PARK (V.O.)
I’m here, Captain. Tell me what you
see.
DERRICK
Left abdomen, just above the belt
line. Device about the size of a
wallet. LED active.
DR. PARK (V.O.)
It’s subcutaneous. Don’t go deep.
Cut parallel to the skin— two
centimeters max.
Find a clean edge and separate the capsule.
DERRICK
Copy.
He sets the handset down.
Pulls a pocket knife from his thigh pocket, sterilizes it
with a mini vodka bottle, flame from a lighter.
Miranda’s voice hammers through the door.
MIRANDA (O.S.)
Captain, what’s happening?
DERRICK
Stay out, Miranda. That’s an order.
Hands trembling, breath steady.
DERRICK (CONT’D)
You with me, brother?
HAYES
Just don’t hit bone.
Derrick exhales once. Cuts.
A wet hiss of pain. Hayes’s hand claws the armrest, white-
knuckled.
Blood wells — Derrick works quick, surgical. Peels back
tissue. A glint of black metal under the muscle.
DR. PARK (V.O.)
That’s it. Slow. Twist and lift—
don’t pull wires.
The device slides free, slick and humming faintly. LED
blinking.
Derrick stares at it — heartbeat for heartbeat.
DERRICK
You’re clear.
Hayes tries to laugh, half-choke.
Derrick palms the device, tucks it into his pocket. Keys the
interphone one last time.
DERRICK (CONT’D)
Dr. Park... appreciate the help.
He kills the line. The cabin hum swells — wind, systems,
breath.
Hayes’s shirt clings wet to his ribs. The wound’s shallow but
wide — a slick crimson smile across his side.
DERRICK (CONT’D)
You’re fine. Just a little patch
work.
He rifles through the first-aid kit: gauze, wipes, a tiny
sewing kit, mini superglue tube from the cockpit toolkit.
Perfect.
He splashes vodka from the mini-bottle over the wound — Hayes
jolts.
He sterilizes the safety pin in lighter flame till it glows
red.
Threads it with dental floss.
HAYES
You sure you’re not just trying to
kill me?
DERRICK
Hold still. One line, sailor
stitch.
He braces Hayes’s ribs with one hand, pushes the pin through
skin and gauze.
Hayes groans through gritted teeth.
Each pull tightens the wound closed.
DERRICK (CONT’D)
Almost there. Breathe.
He finishes the crude seam, pinches the edges, seals with a
strip of gauze and a line of superglue, presses his sleeve
over it.
DERRICK (CONT’D)
(straightening)
That’ll hold till you land. Try not
to laugh.
HAYES
Don’t plan to.
He secures his harness.
Eyes on the door.
Determined.
Hayes clutches his side, pain etched across his face.
Derrick stands over him. Zips the tactical WINGSUIT to his
chest.
DERRICK
Let’s get Miranda up here. She’ll
help stabilize you.
HAYES
What’re you doing?
DERRICK
Putting on a show.
(beat)
I’ll have Connie and RJ walk the
cabin. Make sure everyone’s buckled
in.
HAYES
And then?
DERRICK
Once they’re strapped in we lose
cabin pressure.
Hayes stares. Stunned. Derrick moves to the cockpit door.
DERRICK (CONT’D)
Everyone’ll pass out. Give me two
minutes. That’s all I need.
HAYES
Check.
DERRICK
Once I’m gone, toss the plane hard.
Shake it. That’ll explain why the
cabin cam cuts out.
HAYES
Copy.
DERRICK
Drop to fourteen thousand feet.
Keep us there. They’ll wake up.
(beat)
Get us over the Pacific.
HAYES
Then what?
DERRICK
Then I finish it myself.
HAYES
And ATC?
DERRICK
Tell ’em we hit a pressure valve
issue. Ask to circle once. Buy us
some time.
Derrick and Hayes switch phones.
HAYES
You sure about this?
DERRICK
No choice. You have Find my Phone?
HAYES
Yes, sir.
He opens the cockpit door.
Miranda enters.
DERRICK
Take care of him.
Hayes grabs his arm.
HAYES
Please...
DERRICK
I will. Two minutes once I close
this door. Don’t miss.
HAYES
Derrick takes out a photo of Mary and Emily, studies it once,
slips it into his suit. Disappears down the corridor.
Hayes stares. Heart pounds.
MIRANDA
What is he doing?
HAYES
Everything.
CHYRON: LAX ETA 0hrs 21mins
Genres:
["Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
45 -
Silent Descent
INT. PLANE - FRONT GALLEY – DAY
Derrick crouches low behind the beverage cart. Focused.
Steady. He grabs the intercom handset.
DERRICK (PA)
Ladies and gentlemen, this is your
captain speaking. We’re
experiencing a cabin pressurization
reset. Please remain seated and
buckle your seatbelts. Flight crew,
secure the cabin.
Derrick buzzes the rear galley.
DERRICK (CONT’D)
(on intercom)
Confirm all passengers are buckled.
CONNIE (V.O.)
Yes, Captain.
DERRICK
Strap in. Fast.
He hangs up. Melts into the shadows by the jump seat.
INT. PLANE - COCKPIT - CONTINUOUS
Masks on. Panel glow on their cheeks.
Hayes grits through the pain. A dark bloom soaking through
his shirt. His fingers tremble toward the overhead.
Miranda anchors his wrist.
MIRANDA
You’ve got it.
A guarded cover lifts with a click.
A low SERPENT HISS threads into the cockpit noise.
Indicator lights wink. The air changes. Thinner. Colder.
INT. PLANE - MAIN CABIN - CONTINUOUS
Conversation fades mid-syllable.
A coffee cup lists in a saucer.
Heads tilt.
Chins sink to chests.
One by one, passengers go slack in their belts.
RJ and Connie, strapped in at their jump seats, trade a tight
look.
The jet takes a shallow dip, a gentle, queasy float.
Up front, Derrick slips a hand under the crooked NO SMOKING
placard, pops it free.
The plastic clatters to the carpet, spinning to a stop — its
embedded pinhole now pointed at nothing but aisle wool.
The cabin hums on, a pressurized lullaby, as the last pair of
eyes flutter closed.
CHYRON: LAX ETA: 0hrs 19mins
Genres:
["Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
46 -
Static Tensions
INT. SANDERS’ HOUSE – BASEMENT - DAY
The CABIN FEED is a smear of CARPET and STATIC.
FATU
What is that?
TECH
Placard must’ve gotten jostled.
Camera’s pointed at the floor.
FATU
We lose the cabin?
The Tech nods once.
Static HUMS.
Fatu’s jaw works. He snatches a phone. Dials. Eyes never
leaving the dead monitor.
INT. PLANE - COCKPIT - CONTINUOUS
Hayes fights a wave of pain, thumb mashing SPEAKER.
He drops his voice into Derrick’s cadence—measured, a half-
breath late on every line.
HAYES (AS DERRICK)
Still with you. Plane’s steady...
doing what you asked.
He raps his knuckles against a metal panel for texture.
Miranda meets his eyes over her mask.
MIRANDA
Cabin secured.
Hayes throws in a tiny grunt, sells the turbulence with a
sharp inhale.
Miranda reaches past him. Flips a benign switch. One soft
CHIME leaks into the call.
INTERCUT WITH
BASEMENT:
Fatu listens, head canted.
FATU
You’re sure everything’s under
control?
HAYES (AS DERRICK)
As much as it can be. Running the
reset exactly per your instruction.
FATU
Nineteen minutes. Keep it steady.
Fatu watches STATIC.
He nods to himself, slow.
FATU (CONT’D)
Good. Don’t get clever.
The line clicks dead.
The basement returns to HUM and carpet snow.
Fatu stares.
INT. PLANE - MAIN CABIN - CONTINUOUS
Cabin dimmed to amber. Masks sway like sleepy metronomes.
Bodies slumped, slack-jawed.
The airplane HUM is the only witness.
Derrick moves up the aisle in his oxygen mask, a paper cup in
one hand for cover that no one needs.
Eyes working, not lingering.
DERRICK (V.O.)
Where are you?
ROW 7 — BUSINESSMAN, tie askew, laptop half-shut on a
spreadsheet graveyard.
ROW 9 — SCRUFFY GUY, thumbs stained with ink, a Ziploc of
pistachios spilled in his lap.
ROW 10 — PRIEST, collar smudged red; a napkin tucked away
like secret penance.
ROW 12 — WHEELCHAIR PASSENGER, mask up, blanket pulled high,
too still.
Derrick’s hand hovers over the blanket.
Stops.
Genres:
["Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
47 -
Descent into Chaos
FLASHBACK - INT. AIRPORT CABIN – EARLIER
Derrick crouched beside Alex, who beams over a crayon plane.
ALEX
Me and my dad.
A red crayon streak at Dad’s hip. Alex taps it, earnestly:
ALEX (CONT’D)
They said don’t touch it.
END FLASHBACK
Derrick turns — ROW 14.
Tim’s head tilted. Sweat beaded and dry. Shirt just lifted
where the belt bites.
A flash of white surgical tape peeks from his waistband.
Derrick kneels, body blocking the view from the aisle.
Fingers slip under the hem. Fresh steri-strips, skin angry.
For a half-beat he freezes.
DERRICK
If I’m wrong...
No time. He thumbs Tim’s buckle. CLICK.
Drags him toward the door, efficient, quiet.
Straps a crew harness over Tim’s chest.
DERRICK (CONT’D)
If I’m wrong I’m sorry.
He fishes the worn PHOTO from inside his suit — Mary, Emily,
sun in their eyes.
A breath.
DERRICK (CONT’D)
(softly)
I’m coming.
PHOTO away.
He yanks the handle cover, sets the lever. The DOOR seals
groan.
A sliver of moonlight knifes in as he cracks it.
WIND HOWLS.
A paper cup becomes shrapnel.
An INFANT two rows forward, half-buckled, lolls. One last
clasp slips.
Derrick snatches the baby midair. Shoulder slams the
seatback.
He wedges the child back. Fingers fly. Buckle. Tug.
Tiny chest rising.
He turns into the hurricane, back to the door. The fuselage
shudders. The aisle carpet lifts like a tongue.
He opens the galley storage. Slides the device into his
pocket.
He plants a boot, grabs Tim’s harness points, clips a short
tether from his suit — one clean snap.
DERRICK (CONT’D)
Don’t be wrong.
He pulls Tim’s crew buckle. CLICK.
The wind takes them.
The open door flails.
Only the howl remains.
CHYRON: LAX ETA: 0hrs 17mins
Genres:
["Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
48 -
Free Fall Desperation
EXT. AFTERNOON SKY – CONTINUOUS
Two figures tumble in the sky.
The world becomes WIND.
Far below: the grid of Los Angeles, hazed and sunburnt.
The Pacific behind them, blue and endless, already gone.
Derrick’s short tether WHIPS FREE and sails away.
He flattens. Finds his angle.
A breath.
WHAM!
Tim SMASHES into him. Wild-eyed, punching panic.
TIM
Help me! Please! They’ve got my
family. I didn’t have a choice.
They spin as one, end over end, sky and city swapping places.
Derrick claws for stability —
Tim’s FIST cracks Derrick across the temple.
Lights out.
Derrick goes slack.
Air tears past. The city swells below.
ALTIMETER HUD (Derrick’s wrist):
8,000 FT
7,500...
7,000...
6,000...
4,000...
3,500...
3,000...
Tim pinwheels away, a shrinking scream in the blue.
Derrick’s fingers twitch toward him — too slow. Too far.
Wind hammers his face.
Eyes SNAP OPEN.
2,500...
Hand finds the D-handle.
YANK.
The canopy BLOOMS — violent, lifesaving.
Lines sing. The wingsuit bucks.
CRASH.
Branches SCYTHE past. Fabric rips.
A final SNAP and he’s STUCK mid-canopy, swaying.
Sap stings his nose. Blood beads at his hairline.
Chest heaves.
Alive.
Genres:
["Thriller","Action","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
49 -
Emergency Descent
INT. PLANE - COCKPIT - DAY
Panel glow on skin.
The city a soft smear below.
A sliver of coastline glints ahead — thirty miles and closing
fast.
Hayes clamps a hand to his side.
Blood has seeped through the makeshift dressing. His breath
saws, uneven.
MIRANDA
We’re starting down. You good?
He tries to square in the seat. A wince.
HAYES
I can’t.
He turns his head, meets her eyes.
HAYES (CONT’D)
You can.
MIRANDA
Me?
HAYES
Who else?
The engines murmur.
Miranda slides into the captain's seat.
Her hands tremble once. She plants them on the yoke.
MIRANDA
Okay.
She reaches up.
MIRANDA (CONT’D)
MCP ALTITUDE - set. COURSE - set.
AUTOBRAKE - 2. FLAPS - armed for
approach.
A deep breathe.
MIRANDA (CONT’D)
(into radio, calm)
L.A. Center, Air USA Two Three One
Four leaving flight level two zero
zero, request vectors ILS Two Five
Left.
Hayes lets his head rest back, lids heavy.
HAYES
Atta girl.
His eyes roll; consciousness slips.
His hand falls away from the wound.
Blood pattering softly onto the console.
Miranda clocks his chest rise. The faint flicker at his
throat.
Genres:
["Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
50 -
Race Against Time
EXT. PARK - LOS ANGELES - AFTERNOON
Derrick hangs thirty feet up in a tangle of branches,
bleeding but breathing.
He thumbs the buckles. CLICK. Drops hard into wet grass.
Pain flares, but he forces himself upright.
Shucks the shredded wingsuit, stuffs it under a hedge.
DERRICK
I’m coming, Em.
Phone out. Screen smeared with sap: 9:57 A.M. “No Service.”
He paces, arm raised, willing a bar to appear.
Three bulky SHADOWS stretch across the grass, closing.
One breaks into a jog.
A dented sedan, UBER placard half-peeled, slews to the curb.
URSULA (40s) — tired eyes, coffee stains, and zero hesitation
URSULA
Get in!
Derrick looks from the men to the car — no contest — dives
in.
Tires bark.
The SHADOWS shrink in the rear glass as three JOGGERS skid to
a stop, mouths open, phones half-up.
CHYRON: LAX ETA: 0hrs 12mins
INT. URSULA’S CAR - MOVING - CONTINUOUS
Derrick sags into the seat, adrenaline humming.
DERRICK
Thank you. You’re timing’s insane.
URSULA
Wasn’t sure if you were about to
fly or die.
They blast through a yellow.
Ping. One bar.
Derrick opens FIND MY IPHONE.
A blinking dot settles over a suburban grid.
URSULA (CONT’D)
Where you heading?
DERRICK
Home.
He looks at the clock.
DERRICK (CONT’D)
I’ve got 12 minutes.
Ursula cuts a glance at the map, already downshifting.
URSULA
Seatbelt. We’ll be there is 3.
DERRICK
You don’t have to do this.
Derrick sags into the seat, adrenaline humming.
His hand presses to his chest pocket.
The faint blink of the device LED visible in the dim light.
Ursula clocks it, brow furrowing.
URSULA
What the hell is that? It’s...
blinking.
Derrick doesn’t look at her, eyes locked on his phone’s map.
DERRICK
Something I need to return.
Ursula processes that, swallows, and floors it through a
yellow.
She yanks a U-turn, thread-the-needle through light traffic.
Tires chirp. The city blurs.
CHYRON: LAX ETA - 0hrs 11mins
Genres:
["Action","Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
51 -
Tension in the Basement
INT. SANDERS’ HOUSE – BASEMENT – SAME
Sunlight pierces through a side window, striping the slab.
A monitor locks onto a voice.
HAYES (V.O.)
(As Derrick)
Air USA Flight 2314 requesting
final approach clearance.
Mary and Emily sit back-to-back, wrists mummified in duct
tape.
Emily’s breathing is quick, shallow.
Mary forces hers slow, steady.
EMILY
(hushed)
Dad’s coming.
Mary tips her head, counting the seconds between crackles —
like strides in a race.
Emily pinches her fingers, working at the tape where the edge
curls.
The hidden nail at her fingertip.
She palms it, careful, turns her wrist to hide the movement.
On the wall, the DOLLHOUSE silhouette watches.
HAYES (V.O.) (RADIO)
(as Derrick)
... copy your winds. We’re stable.
Emily glances down. The nail digs. Tiny scrape-scratch under
the tape. Patient. Surgical.
A bead of sweat snakes down her temple.
Mary shifts, subtle, to shield her.
A distant FLOORBOARD moans upstairs.
Both freeze.
The radio crackle fills the space where their hearts would
be.
Genres:
["Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
52 -
Silent Tension
EXT. SANDERS’ HOUSE - NEIGHBOR’S CURB – DAY
Ursula’s sedan coasts to a silent stop behind a hedge. Engine
dies.
Sprinklers hiss. A wind chime tinks once.
Derrick scans his house: blinds angled; back gate ajar; one
downspout dented. A faint shadow flickers across the living
room window.
He checks his watch, then Ursula.
DERRICK
Stay ready. If I’m not out in ten,
call the cops.
Ursula pops the glove box, produces a scuffed Glock, magazine
seated.
URSULA
Wait. Take this.
A beat. Their eyes meet.
URSULA (CONT’D)
A girl’s gotta protect herself.
Derrick nods, racks the slide. Check. Brass glints.
Thumbs the mag. Tucks the pistol low at his back.
Hand on the door.
URSULA (CONT’D)
Captain?
He turns.
URSULA (CONT’D)
Go get those motherfuckers. I’ll
keep the engine warm.
DERRICK
Five stars for sure.
Derrick breathes. Drops low. Slides out of sight.
He ghosts toward his yard. Vanishes into the hedge line.
Boots silent on wet mulch.
CHYRON: LAX ETA - 0hrs 6mins
Genres:
["Action","Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
53 -
Urgent Confrontations
INT. SANDERS’ HOUSE - BASEMENT - CONTINUOUS
Emily’s nail saws a fraction deeper.
Mary presses her wrists back into Emily’s hands, giving her
the angle she needs.
Upstairs: a door shuts. Footsteps change direction.
Emily keeps going.
The tech plays back the video of the 405 accident.
TECH
Shit. We got the wrong guy.
(beat)
Boss. You need to see this!
EXT. SANDERS’ HOUSE - BACKYARD - CONTINUOUS
Sprinklers hammer the lawn. A white-noise hiss.
The Henchman stomps out, drenched, kneels at the spigot by
the fence.
From the hedge a shadow uncoils.
Derrick explodes, driving him into the soaked turf.
An elbow cracks Derrick’s cheek — stars.
The Glock flies into the mud.
Derrick snatches a rusted porch-swing chain hanging off the
arbor.
Whips it across the man’s throat and hauls.
Boots gouge mud as water needles their faces.
The struggle jerks, shortens... goes slack.
The body limp.
Derrick listens. House quiet under the sprinkler hiss.
He drags the body into hedge shade. Eyes the windows, the
patio door.
DERRICK
One down.
CHYRON: LAX ETA - 0hrs 5mins
Genres:
["Action","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
54 -
Tension in the Shadows
INT. SANDERS’ HOUSE – LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS
A shadow moves. Junior lurks between the couch and the
hallway, phone half-raised.
From the kitchen.
CRASH. A plate shatters.
Junior turns.
Derrick explodes out of the entry, low and fast.
They collide. Fists. Elbows. A pistol skitters across
hardwood, clattering under the coffee table.
They slam into the wall.
Tear a picture frame down.
Stagger, over the arm of the couch, flipping cushions.
Junior drives Derrick into the bookcase.
Wood splinters.
Both men grunt, breath hot and close.
They hit a rolling toolbox. It yawns open. Steel bites and
bits spill like teeth.
Junior snatches for a hammer.
Derrick traps the wrist.
Headbutts.
Junior snarls, shoves, reaches for Derrick’s throat.
Derrick’s hand finds a corded power drill.
He squeezes. The motor whines.
A savage shove.
THUNK.
Junior’s cry dies in his chest. Legs give. Folds to the
floor.
The drill whirs down to silence.
Derrick staggers, sucking air, cheek blooming purple. He
kicks the loose pistol farther under the table with the toe
of his boot.
The hallway darkens — a presence.
Fatu steps into the doorway, unreadable, eyes tracking the
room.
He kneels, calmly fishes the pistol from the shadows, stands
with it loose in his hand.
They regard each other.
No words.
Only the hum of the sprinkler outside. The quiet before a
storm.
Genres:
["Action","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
55 -
Desperate Escape
INT. SANDERS’ HOUSE – BASEMENT - CONTINUOUS
The Tech at the laptops. Green LEDs blink.
Mary and Emily sit back-to-back. Wrists cocooned in tape.
Eyes on the stairwell.
Faint thuds echo.
Emily wriggles a nail free from her pocket.
She presses it into Mary’s palm, quick and quiet.
Mary bends her head, sawing at the tape.
Steady, steady. The fibers whine with every stroke.
Upstairs: a doors shuts. Footsteps shift directions.
The Tech’s eyes flick. She pushes back her chair.
TECH
Don’t.
The tape gives. A soft rip.
The Tech lunges.
Mary rolls with the shove, hand snatching a heavy maglite off
a low shelf.
She pops up. CRACKS the Tech across the temple.
The woman reels. Dazed.
Mary drives the NAIL hard into the notch behind her ear and
twists.
MARY
That’s for my pinky.
The Tech collapses, groaning.
Mary rips free the rest of her bindings, tears at Emily’s
tape.
EMILY
Mom.
MARY
Go. Now.
The last tape falls.
They sprint for the stairs, slipping into the shadowed edge.
Upstairs the house goes very quiet.
CHYRON: LAX ETA - 0hrs 4mins
Genres:
["Thriller","Action","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
56 -
Hostage Tensions
INT. SANDERS’ HOUSE - LIVING ROOM – DAY
The room is chaos — chairs overturned, glass shattered.
Derrick and Fatu slam into the counters, fists and elbows
brutal and close.
The device in Derrick’s chest pocket pulses under his shirt
as they crash into the island.
A BANG — the back door swings open.
Mary and Emily burst in, breathless, terror in their eyes.
For half a second, Derrick locks on them — alive. Safe. The
relief is sharp and dangerous.
Fatu clocks the flicker of distraction, snarls, and drives
Derrick into the wall.
As they grapple, Derrick’s hand slides to his chest pocket —
palming the wallet-sized device.
A brutal shove, a tangle of limbs — and in the blur of
motion, he slips the device deep into Fatu’s jacket pocket.
Smooth. Unnoticed.
The detonator clatters to the floor.
Derrick scoops it up, quiet, fast.
He regains his feet — but Fatu pivots like a predator.
He lunges, yanks Emily tight against him, the barrel of his
gun at her head.
Mary freezes, trembling.
FATU
Backyard. Now.
Derrick’s chest rises, steady despite the storm inside.
His eyes meet Emily’s — wide, wet, terrified — and soften for
a beat.
DERRICK
Let her go.
Fatu smirks, forcing them all toward the back door.
CHYRON: LAX ETA 0hrs 1min
Genres:
["Action","Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
57 -
Final Approach
INT. PLANE - COCKPIT – MOMENTS LATER
Miranda’s breath fogs.
Hands steady on the yoke.
Hayes slumps, barely conscious, an oxygen mask fogging and
clearing.
ATC (V.O.)
Air USA Two Three One Four, change
of plans — expect runway Two-Four
Right instead of Two-Five Left.
MIRANDA
Roger, Two-Four Right, Air USA Two
Three One Four.
Her thumb works the MCP with muscle memory: LOC. APP.
Autobrake 3.
She arms the speed brake.
Eyes flick — VREF set, flaps rising through the arc.
MIRANDA (SOFT, TO HERSELF) (CONT’D)
Gear...
She drops the handle. A thunk, then the rhythm of three
greens.
MIRANDA (CONT’D)
Flaps fifteen... flaps thirty.
She scans: needles centered, glidepath alive, sinks into the
harness.
CHYRON: LAX ETA 0hrs 3min
INT. PLANE - MAIN CABIN – CONTINUOUS
RJ and Connie are buckled in jump seats. Masks still swing
above drowsy faces.
A few passengers blink awake, uncomprehending.
Connie grips the straps, whispers without sound: please.
INT. PLANE - COCKPIT – CONTINUOUS
The city lifts to the windshield — L.A. Light up like
christmas.
PAPI lights split red/white.
The radio altimeter ticks down.
One Thousand feet.
MIRANDA
Stable. Landing.
She clicks off the autopilot. The yoke hums alive in her
hands.
Five Hundred feet.
Runway centerline threads dead ahead.
Genres:
["Action","Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
58 -
The Tense Negotiation
EXT. SANDERS’ HOUSE - BACKYARD – MOMENTS LATER
Sprinklers spit a mist across the grass.
Fatu storms out first, dragging Emily tight against his
chest, gun to her temple. PLUSH TURTLE in his other hand.
Mary stumbles behind them, terrified.
Derrick steps out. Battered, Bloodied.
His hand rests at his side, the detonator hidden in his fist.
FATU
One for one, Captain.
Fatu studies him, suspicion in his eyes.
DERRICK
Are you looking for this?
FATU
I’ll slice her.
DERRICK
Trade.
The sprinkler hiss fills the quiet.
Fatu’s free hand dips to his back pocket.
He pulls out the creased photo — his son, his daughter-in-
law, the baby.
A beat. His jaw tightens. Resolve, not mercy.
FATU
Deal.
He let’s Emily go. She stumbles to Mary.
Mary catches her — both of them crying, clutching each other
like they’ll never let go.
Derrick walks forward, slow, calm, eyes locked on Fatu.
FATU (CONT’D)
I push the button, Captain...
...they all burn.
Derrick takes a step closer.
DERRICK
You have the wrong guy. Walk away.
Confusion flickers.
FATU
Too late.
CLICK.
Fatu pats his jacket — feels the small device, blinking
steady and slow.
Realization slams into him like a freight train.
The PLUSH TURTLE drops to a puddle.
Mary, clutching Emily, backs farther toward the hedge line.
A deafening WHUMP — white light, a rush of air.
The yard erupts: dirt, water, and flame swallowed in a dull
roar.
Silence.
Sprinklers hiss, drenching scorched grass. Smoke curls upward
into the summer air.
Derrick stands. Chest heaves. Remote dangles in his hand.
Mary and Emily rush to him, clinging, sobbing.
He pulls them tight. Deep exhale.
DERRICK
It’s over.
From the fence line, Ursula vaults over, breathless, eyes
wide.
URSULA
Jesus, Captain.
Derrick smiles. Pulls Mary and Emily tighter.
DERRICK
Mary, this is Ursula. She...
URSULA
Just an Uber driver.
Mary huffs a stunned laugh through tears.
The sprinklers surge again.
Washing the blood and dirt.
They collapse together, holding on.
Genres:
["Action","Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
59 -
Emergency Landing at LAX
EXT. LAX RUNWAY – DAY
MIRANDA
Runway in sight. Landing.
Her jaw sets. Tiny inputs. A breath.
MIRANDA (CONT’D)
Steady... just like you taught me.
Fifty... Forty... Thirty... Twenty... Ten.
The 737 kisses asphalt. A brief shriek of tires. SPOILERS
BLOOM across the wings.
INT. PLANE - COCKPIT – CONTINUOUS
Miranda’s hand finds the reversers, eases them up.
MIRANDA
Speed brake up... reversers normal.
The nose stays true. Blue strobes of emergency trucks pace
the windows.
MIRANDA (CONT’D)
Manual braking.
She feathers the tops of the pedals.
Reversers stow.
The howl fades to a growl, then to the steady whir of rolling
rubber.
The jet settles into itself, centered, obedient.
EXT. LAX RUNWAY – CONTINUOUS
Sparks drift off the brakes.
The aircraft decelerates under an arch of flashing red and
white.
INT. PLANE - COCKPIT – MOMENTS LATER
The airplane rolls to a firm, quiet stop.
Miranda’s hands are still on the yoke. Knuckles white.
Loosen.
She exhales once, long.
MIRANDA
(into handheld)
Air USA Two-Three-One-Four stopped
on Two-Five Left. Request emergency
services and a tow to the gate.
She glances to Hayes. His chest rises.
Still here.
Miranda touches the panel.
MIRANDA (CONT’D)
We made it.
EXT. LAX TARMAC – NIGHT
Stairs hit the tarmac. Emergency strobes spin.
Hayes ashen, unconscious, is wheeled toward an ambulance.
A PARAMEDIC works frantically, holding a sealed biohazard
canister.
PARAMEDIC
We’ve got him stable for transport.
Miranda steps out under the floods. Composed.
An AIRLINE REP hustles up.
AIRLINE REP
Are you the pilot?
MIRANDA
No... Today? Yeah.
The rep nods.
Miranda clocks Connie among the deplaning. A grateful nod
passed between them.
She looks up at the quiet sky, breath catching.
Rushes to the ambulance, climbing in beside Hayes.
The doors slam. Sirens wail.
The ambulance peels off, disappearing into the blur of
flashing red and white.
Genres:
["Action","Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
60 -
A New Beginning
EXT. OPEN FIELD – DAY
A DRONE hums steady in the sky.
Derrick guides the controller. Emily stands at his side.
Mary pulls up in a “Sanders Interior Designs” van, picnic
basket and blanket under her arm.
She spreads it.
EMILY
Can I try?
DERRICK
Steady hands. Eyes ahead. Don’t
chase the wind.
She takes the sticks.
A UNIFORMED GENERAL (50s) approaches.
MARY
Looks like someone’s here to see
you.
GENERAL
Morning, Captain. I’m General
Adams. Miranda’s my daughter.
DERRICK
How is she? She saved a lot of
lives.
GENERAL
She says the same about you.
(beat)
There’s work only a man like you
could do. Quiet. Necessary.
Derrick glances to Mary and Emily.
The drone hums above them.
DERRICK
I’ve got a mission already.
GENERAL
Understood. When you’re ready.
They shake. The General peels off.
Derrick drops to the blanket, wraps Mary from behind, kisses
her cheek.
He fishes the creased family photo from his pocket, smiles,
and tucks it into the basket.
MARY
Who was that?
DERRICK
A second chance.
MARY
You going to take it?
DERRICK
Not today.
Mary pats the basket, opens it.
A PUPPY springs out. Tail a metronome.
Emily laughs, scoops it up.
EMILY
Buster Junior.
Emily takes a selfie. Derrick and Mary in the background. All
smiles.
Types in her phone - #Bestdadever, #Memories
FADE OUT.