Name Joe Murkijanian
Address
Phone 323-253-6402
THE BLACK LIST
FADE IN:
EXT. CITY — NIGHT — AERIAL
A predator’s glide. The city below is a circuit board —
orange veins, glass towers humming. The camera floats like a
secret no one can hold.
INTERCUT — MICRO-
MONTAGE:
—Rain pebbles a casket lid.
—A hotel key slips into a storm drain.
—A noose creaks in an empty cell.
—A red kayak turns lazily on black water.
—A gloved hand wipes a hard drive with a solvent-soaked rag.
—A ledger page closes; a thumb smears ink.
—A camera lens catches a fourteen-year-old’s reflection. She
smiles because she was told to.
DANA (V.O.)
They called them coincidences.
Twenty-two of them. Coincidence is
what you call choreography when you
missed rehearsals.
The drone dips toward a courthouse dome, skirts the rotunda,
then knifes down into—
—a black seam between buildings. City noise mutes. Only the
rotor’s breath.
DANA (V.O.)
You don’t have to believe me. You
just have to follow the bodies.
Smash to—
Genres:
["Thriller","Mystery"]
Ratings
Scene
2 -
The Cost of Truth
INT. METRO DIGITAL — NEWSROOM — NIGHT
Not quite dead, not quite alive. Post-it obits of a once-
great paper now living online. Old awards, new coffee stains.
Fluorescents buzz like mosquitos.
DANA ROURKE, 38 — built like a long fight with gravity and
the world. Eyes that count exits.
Two monitors:
—Spreadsheet: NAMES / DATES / “CAUSES.”
—Graph: nodes base-jumping into a black sun labeled THE
BENEFACTOR.
A dog-eared notebook open to a sticky tab: “BLACK
LEDGER??—urban myth?” circled twice.
MASON CHO, 50s, editor, ex-war reporter with a limp that only
shows when he forgets to hide it, plants a takeout coffee on
her desk.
MASON
You’re building a nuke in a garage.
DANA
I’m building a mirror. People only
hate those when they’re accurate.
MASON
Word is, there’s a book. Not a book-
book. A ledger. Names, numbers.
Scorecard for kings. You won’t find
it.
DANA
I’ve found everything else they
said wasn’t there.
He clocks the board, the string, the absence of joy.
MASON
You publish half of this, every
lawyer in town practices on your
bones. Best case.
DANA
What’s worst?
MASON
You don’t get a case.
Dana clicks a node cluster: LANE / PATRICK / RICKERS / ROMAN.
A hollow in the center.
DANA
There’s a hole the size of a god
right here.
MASON
Plug it with cautions, not faith.
REPORTER #1 (O.S.)
Don’t stand too close to Rourke’s
desk if you like your kneecaps.
REPORTER #2 (O.S.)
HR said they don’t cover
“mysterious circumstances.”
Mason throws them a look; they look away.
MASON
You’re radioactive. Choose your
radius.
He walks. She watches him go, uncertain who she’s protecting.
Dana hovers over UPLOAD. Doesn’t click.
A small yellow sticky at the monitor’s edge: “CALL MOM —
SUNDAY”.
She peels it off. Sticks it onto the notebook: BLACK LEDGER??
CUT TO:
Genres:
["Mystery","Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
3 -
Secrets in the Shadows
EXT. CORNER COFFEE — DAY
A storefront with dusty windows and judgmental muffins.
Reflections of traffic make everyone look haunted.
ELI SANTANA, 42 — ex-cop, now private eyes and private sins.
Hands never quite still. He takes the corner booth without
asking.
Between them, a scratched USB like a found bullet.
ELI
Three of them, I knew. Decent
people. Or decent adjacent. Now
they’re alumni.
DANA
Define “they.”
ELI
The organized kind of nobody.
DANA
You’re here to be useful or
dramatic?
He cracks a smile that used to impress Internal Affairs.
ELI
Useful: audio files. A name that
keeps walking across the tape like
a bad chorus. B. L. Kerrick.
Private intel. International
contracts. The guy companies hire
when they want the dirt cleaned and
the shovel hidden.
DANA
Dirt never disappears. It just
becomes someone else’s yard.
ELI
You talk like a sermon and drink
like a cop.
She flips the USB with a fingernail.
DANA
Where’d you get this?
ELI
A guy I owe money to. He owes me a
life. That makes us even.
DANA
You owe everyone, don’t you?
ELI
I’m Catholic about it.
She studies him — the watchful exhaustion.
DANA
Why me?
ELI
Because when you set yourself on
fire, people notice. And because
you kept a promise once.
DANA
Which one?
ELI
To Paula.
(beat)
She called you “Rook.” Said you
were the only one who didn’t treat
her like a pawn.
Dana blinks — almost nothing, but the quake is there.
DANA
Only she called me that.
ELI
She’s dead. So now two people do.
He sips, eyes on the window. Across the street, a camera
glint. When Dana looks — a mirror only.
DANA
Who’s tailing you?
ELI
Everybody. That’s how you know
you’re interesting.
DANA
What’s the confession?
ELI
I used to be one of them.
DANA
Wolf-head patch?
He doesn’t answer. That’s the answer.
CUT TO:
Genres:
["Mystery","Thriller","Crime"]
Ratings
Scene
4 -
Paranoia in the Shadows
INT. DANA’S APARTMENT — NIGHT
Rent-controlled by either blackmail or mercy. Wall-to-wall
case mosaic — faces, dates, arrows, unanswered prayers.
She hits REC on her phone. The new memo app fills the room
with a soft red dot.
DANA (INTO PHONE)
Rourke. Night three hundred and
something.
Virginia Lane — forty-one, hung on paper, murdered in
practice. Leigh Patrick — twenty-nine, pills that had to be
arranged. Joe Rickers — fifty, “brief illness,” which is how
cops die when paperwork needs a nap.
(re: the wall)
They orbit a man with a black hole where his heart should be.
He “killed himself,” they said. He outsourced it, more
likely.
She pins a new photo to the wall: a blurred man at a party —
tux, hand mid-gesture, face turned just enough to be a ghost.
DANA (INTO PHONE) (CONT'D)
There’s a rumor of a ledger. The
kind that makes kings sweat. If it
exists, it’s not a book. It’s a
bomb with binding.
She pockets the phone. A soft KNOCK at the door.
She freezes. Checks the peephole — empty hallway. Down the
corridor: the exit sign pulses red; in that heartbeat, a lens
glints and is gone.
She sets the chain anyway. Stares at it like it’s faith.
Genres:
["Thriller","Mystery"]
Ratings
Scene
5 -
Shadows of the Past
FLASHBACK — INT. GARAGE — NIGHT (YEARS AGO)
Young Dana (16) hears her father on a landline phone, voice
low.
DANA’S FATHER (O.S.)
We’ll move the girl tonight. Safer
that way.
A shoebox of papers sits open on the workbench — columns of
names and numbers written like a priest’s hand.
Young Dana reaches — the garage light snaps on. Father’s
shadow eclipses her.
BACK TO PRESENT.
Dana rips open a drawer. No shoebox. Only duct tape and a
Glock she never admits to owning.
She kills the lights. The apartment inhales the dark with
her.
CUT TO:
Genres:
["Thriller","Mystery","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
6 -
Whispers of the Past
EXT. HOSPICE — DAY
Plastic geraniums plant cheer in real dirt. A wind chime lies
about the weather.
STEVEN HOLLEN, 70s, silk gone to sandpaper, eyes like old
glass. Oxygen cannula bites his nostrils.
Dana sits bedside. Her recorder is half-hidden under a crease
in her coat.
DANA
You worked with him. Before he
became a tabloid ghost.
HOLLEN
I worked with money. He was good at
making it… and making it make
people do things.
DANA
They say there’s a ledger.
He laughs — a cough in a tux.
HOLLEN
They say a lot. Some of it’s true
even when it isn’t.
(leans in)
We taped. That was the product.
Insurance is the only honest
business. The ledger was the index
— who, how much, for what. A
library card for hell.
DANA
Who owns it now?
HOLLEN
Ownership is for amateurs. Custody
is what kills.
He looks past her — the way men look when they see something
in the corner you can’t.
HOLLEN (CONT'D)
Your father had decent hands. Good
at cards. Bad at keeping them.
Dana flinches, then smothers it.
DANA
You knew my father?
HOLLEN
Everyone knew everyone. That’s why
we pretended we didn’t.
DANA
Tell me where the ledger is.
HOLLEN
I’ll tell you where it isn’t. It
isn’t where you think.
(wets lips)
Cold places keep hot secrets. Old
places, too.
A NURSE enters; his attention fractures.
HOLLEN (CONT'D)
He was the storefront. The real
owners don’t sell to the public.
DANA
Names.
He smiles, brittle.
HOLLEN
When you find it, you’ll wish you
hadn’t.
A monitor beeps. A line between them goes taut.
CUT TO:
Genres:
["Thriller","Mystery","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
7 -
Shadows of Surveillance
INT. STATE PRISON — VISIT ROOM — DAY
Walls that teach resignation. A corner camera unplugged with
a polite sign: “Maintenance.”
GILLIAN MARKS, 63 — convicted madam; bones like a dowager
queen. State-issue cotton can’t smother the spine.
She sits. Dana sits opposite, no glass, only table.
MARKS
You look better on the podcast.
DANA
You look worse everywhere.
Marks’s smile respects the punch.
DANA (CONT'D)
You were transferred to a minimum
with no cameras. Optics say
“oversight.” Outcomes say
“prelude.”
MARKS
I don’t read tea leaves. I make
them.
Dana slides a Polaroid across the table: Dana’s silhouette
through her bedroom window. Taken from outside. The glass
minted last night.
Marks studies it — interest, not pity.
MARKS (CONT'D)
Then they’ve already found you.
(beat)
Most women are found long before
they realize they’re lost.
DANA
Who’s running the shop now?
MARKS
Shops get new managers. The mall
stays the mall.
Dana clocks a guard’s tablet over Marks’s shoulder — a paused
frame of a cocktail party feed: the blurred man from her
wall, younger, sharper, profile not quite shown. The wolf-
head lapel pin catches the light.
DANA
Who is he?
MARKS
The kind of man who never shows up
in your photos unless he wants to.
Two GUARDS arrive like punctuation.
GUARD
Visit’s over.
MARKS
You sell stories. I sold girls. We
both dressed our product up and
pretended we were saving someone.
(leans in)
The difference is I don’t pretend
anymore.
They take her. Dana watches the unplugged camera not watch
her back.
CUT TO:
Genres:
["Thriller","Mystery","Crime"]
Ratings
Scene
8 -
Echoes of Absence
EXT. CAFE — AFTERNOON
Dana sits at an outdoor table, two coffees cooling. She
checks her watch. Checks the street. Checks her phone.
TEXT FROM “MARTY REYES”: Running five minutes late. Don’t
move.
A second text: Actually, make it ten.
A black sedan idles across the street. The driver doesn’t
look at her.
PUSH ALERT: Martin “Marty” Reyes, 51, found dead in his
apartment. Apparent suicide.
Dana’s throat closes. She turns, sees the cafe window. In the
reflection, a man with a stillness you can’t buy. Face not
clear. Posture that matches the blurred man on her wall.
When she pivots — nothing but her coffee and the chair
opposite, empty forever.
She opens a laptop. The REYES INTERVIEW folder is empty. Her
cursor trembles.
DANA (V.O.)
They don’t erase you. They sand you
down. Memory first. Then records.
Then whatever’s left.
She deletes the empty folder, a small funeral.
CUT TO:
Genres:
["Mystery","Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
9 -
Narrow Escape
INT. STORAGE FACILITY — NIGHT
Corridors of metal doors, the hum of fluorescent lights
telling the truth badly. Dana’s breath ghosts in the cold.
Eli picks a lock with hands that remember. The door rolls up.
Dust. Old money.
Boxes labeled: PAYOUTS / BANKS / LOANS / GUESTS.
A law book — hollow. A flash drive wrapped in wax paper like
contraband.
Footfalls echo down the corridor — two men in tactical black,
faces that never make the news. No insignia… until they’re
close enough for Dana to clock the wolf-head in the weave of
a sleeve.
ELI
We’re late to our own party.
They kill their flashlights. Slip out the rear service door,
hugging shadow like it owes them rent. A headlight smears the
corridor. The door sighs shut behind them.
Genres:
["Thriller","Mystery"]
Ratings
Scene
10 -
Echoes of Paranoia
INT. ROT-MOTEL — SAFE ROOM — LATER
Old carpet, older crimes. A TV bolted to the wall plays
static like a hymn.
Dana plugs the flash drive into a burner. A directory opens:
/AUDIO/LEVERAGE/, /VIDEO/GUESTS/. She clicks AUDIO.
A man’s voice — trembling, wealthy — under a white-noise bed
like a tiny waterfall.
MAN (FILTERED; AUDIO)
This stays between us. I have…
obligations. My wife… my donors—
SECOND VOICE (FILTERED; AUDIO)
You’ll be taken care of. As always.
Dana scrubs. The background hum isn’t random — she’s heard
this pitch before.
DANA
Wellness retreat. Glendale. Their
MRI suite leaks like a cheap
speaker.
ELI
You hear geography. I hear
blackmail that keeps itself
evergreen.
She calls up metatags — timestamps after The Benefactor’s
death.
DANA
It franchised.
ELI
Or it never closed.
He palms two pills from a bottle, hesitates. Pockets them.
She notices. Files it. Stays on task.
DANA
Who is Kerrick to you?
Eli keeps his eyes on the waveform.
ELI
Recruiter. Handler. Sinner. In that
order.
DANA
And to you now?
ELI
A man I owe a favor or a bullet.
I’m trying to decide which pays
better.
The doorframe pops softly — building settling or someone
leaning. They both draw breath in and listen. Nothing.
DANA (V.O.)
Paranoia is a skill set. Learn it
or lose.
CUT TO:
Genres:
["Thriller","Mystery","Crime"]
Ratings
Scene
11 -
Secrets in the Shadows
EXT. TRAIN YARD — DUSK
Dead engines sleeping like dinosaurs. Dana meets ROOK, 30s,
grease-knuckle philosopher.
He kicks a ’97 Cherokee like it’s a dog that might bite or
love.
ROOK
No GPS. No OnStar. No snitchiness.
She starts if you curse first.
ROOK
If anyone asks, I never met you. If
no one asks, I still never met you.
DANA
You’re a poet.
ROOK
I’m tired.
She peels out with a wave that says nothing and everything.
CUT TO:
Genres:
["Mystery","Thriller","Crime"]
Ratings
Scene
12 -
Betrayal in the Shadows
INT. RAIL YARD OFFICE — NIGHT
Fluorescent buzz. A wolf-head contact in shadow. Eli hands
over a folded slip.
CONTACT
We’ve got her location now.
Eli nods — unreadable. Dana in the doorway, clocking angle,
exits, windows, ghosts. She says nothing. She won’t forget.
Outside—
EXT. RAIL YARD — CONTINUOUS
Cold star breath.
DANA
I should shoot you here.
ELI
You could. You wouldn’t get past
the next mile marker.
DANA
You just sold me, didn’t you?
ELI
I rented you back to them.
Difference is in the paperwork.
DANA
You speak fluent betrayal.
ELI
I speak survival. Translation: I
just bought us ten minutes of not-
dying.
Headlights sweep. A black SUV idles. Eli casually lifts his
jacket hem; the wolf-head patch winks. The SUV rolls away,
like a cat bored with live prey.
Dana stares holes through him.
ELI (CONT'D)
Tell me I’m not useful.
She walks past him to the Cherokee. He follows, a man who
doesn’t deserve to and knows it.
CUT TO:
Genres:
["Thriller","Mystery","Crime"]
Ratings
Scene
13 -
Secrets in the Shadows
INT. NEWS CONSORTIUM — BASEMENT — NIGHT
Whiteboards. World map with tacks. SERA AVELLA, 40s, head of
a scrappy consortium of journalists who like the taste of
their own fear.
Dana slides over the hard key and a burner.
SERA
Provenance. Redundancy. If I die,
my lawyer releases. If you die,
your ghost haunts me.
DANA
You don’t believe in ghosts.
SERA
I believe in backups.
On a monitor, a pipeline begins — hashing files, scrubbing
metadata. A separate window coughs up a Cease & Desist —
Prior Restraint from a firm with its own skyscraper.
Sera drags it to ARCHIVE like spam.
SERA (CONT'D)
One file scares me. Not what’s in
it. Where it wants to go.
She taps a blinking IP tag: GOV_NET_OMEGA.
SERA (CONT'D)
A network that doesn’t exist,
politely trying to mirror your
evidence.
DANA
Define “doesn’t exist.”
SERA
If I define it, it does.
A still image flickers in the preview: an overhead of a
leather-bound book — crisp edges, embossed spine. File path:
LEDGER/ORIG/MASTER.
Sera leans in.
SERA (CONT'D)
Scripture.
CUT TO:
Genres:
["Thriller","Mystery","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
14 -
The Watchful Eye
EXT. HEALTH & LONGEVITY CENTER — DAY
Frosted glass, succulents in rows, a water wall that forgives
rich sins. Dana across the boulevard, camera in a tote.
Black SUVs idle like patient sharks. Men in tasteful polos.
On each sleeve, the wolf-head — modest to the point of
arrogance.
A SENATOR exits with a paper bag of supplements. Kerrick —
only a suggestion of him — walks the Senator to his car like
a valet who’s read Machiavelli in the original.
Through the long lens, Dana sees profile + posture that match
the blurred man from her wall. He turns, scanning the street;
for one breath the lens points straight at us.
Dana lowers the camera. Counts five. Looks again.
He’s gone. Or he wants her to think so.
DANA (V.O.)
Why shoot the king when the doctor
makes kings bleed?
CUT TO:
Genres:
["Thriller","Mystery","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
15 -
Whispers in the Graveyard
EXT. GRAVEYARD — NIGHT
Marble teeth in moonlight. Dana kneels at Virginia Lane’s
stone. A laminated note under a rock: “You were telling the
truth.” The ink has run like mascara.
Dana tucks a flash drive into the soil under the stone. Dead
drop for a dead. She palms the dirt back flat.
A WOMAN (30s) in a hoodie watches from the path — jittery,
haunted.
WOMAN
You’re Dana Rourke.
DANA
No. I’m just late.
WOMAN
He filmed me. Said I’d be a movie
star. I was fourteen. If I talk,
I’m that age again.
Beat. Dana stands, not too close. Never too close.
DANA
Talking makes you the age you are.
Silence keeps you where they left
you.
The woman nods, a tiny bow to a terrible priest. She leaves.
A floodlight snaps on in the distance; Dana is shadow again
before it finishes warming.
CUT TO:
Genres:
["Mystery","Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
16 -
Escape Under the Underpass
EXT. FREEWAY UNDERPASS — NIGHT
The Cherokee coasts, lights off. The city above forgets.
A box truck yawns into the lane ahead, blocking the
underpass. An SUV drifts in behind, blocking the exit.
ELI
We saying nice things?
DANA
We’re making new roads.
She slams into reverse, drops a tire onto the dirt
embankment, rides the slope, sprays gravel. The SUV
overcommits, clips a pillar; plastic screams. The box truck
pivots too slow.
They punch through a chain-link fence, sparks in a brief
galaxy. The Cherokee coughs, forgives them, runs.
Eli looks at her like a man remembering why he wanted to
live.
ELI
You drive like you owe someone
money.
DANA
I owe everyone everything.
Genres:
["Thriller","Action","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
17 -
Flickering Shadows
INT. DANA’S APARTMENT — BATHROOM — LATE NIGHT
Fluorescent confession. Dana scrubs blood freckles off her
cheek with dish soap. The mirror is a cracked witness.
She picks up her phone. MOM.
Her thumb hovers. Presses.
MOM (V.O.)
Honey? You okay?
DANA
Yeah. I… just wanted to check in.
MOM (V.O.)
You sound tired.
DANA
Long day. But I’m fine.
She’s not. Her eyes spill but her voice does not.
MOM (V.O.)
I’m making peach cobbler Sunday.
DANA
I’ll be there. Promise.
She ends the call, sits on the tub edge. The ledger rumor
sits in her head like a siren.
She opens her notebook. Adds a line under BLACK LEDGER?? —
“Makes kings sweat.” — Hollen. Circles it. Twice.
The bathroom light flickers. She laughs once — a dare at the
dark.
CUT TO:
Genres:
["Thriller","Mystery","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
18 -
Into the Shadows
EXT. LITTLE ROCK — ARCHIVE ROOM — NIGHT
A municipal office out of time. Dana watches security footage
of Mark Maddox’s property the night he “killed himself
twice.”
Two masked figures slip through the gate. Freeze. Zoom. The
shoulder patch is a wolf-head rendered by someone with taste.
She snaps a still. Emails it to herself and to Sera and to a
burner she hides in a friend’s mailbox across town.
DANA (V.O.)
Brands are forever. Kill squads
have logos now.
EXT. NORTH ROAD — PRE-DAWN
The world is charcoal sketch. The listening station rises on
the horizon — dead antennas against a paling sky.
Dana kills the engine at the ridge. Shoulders a ruck:
flashlight, crowbar, tape, sat puck, spare burner, thermite
in a heat-proof pouch.
She hands Eli a cheap Glock wrapped in a sock.
ELI
You trust me with this?
DANA
I trust consequences. They keep
score.
They start down the slope — two shadows headed into a mouth
that breathes cold.
Dana stops. Looks back at the city. At the light.
DANA (V.O.)
If there’s a ledger, it’s not a
book. It’s a mirror. And I’m in it
now.
She walks on.
FADE OUT.
FADE IN:
Genres:
["Thriller","Mystery"]
Ratings
Scene
19 -
Covert Investigation at Glendale Retreat
EXT. GLENDALE WELLNESS RETREAT — DAY
Pristine lawns. A water feature that whispers money. Dana
parks two blocks away, walks past the gate in jogging gear,
earbuds in.
DANA (V.O.)
Background hum in the file wasn’t
static. It was resonance. MRI suite
in this place leaks a frequency you
can’t hear unless you’re looking
for it.
She jogs the perimeter, clocking cameras, blind spots, and
the black SUVs lined up by the staff entrance.
Through tinted glass: a glimpse of a well-dressed man in an
MRI chair, attendants in scrubs. One attendant wears a wolf-
head lapel pin.
INT. GLENDALE WELLNESS RETREAT — SERVICE CORRIDOR — DAY
Dana, now in a staff coat stolen from an unlocked laundry
cart, pushes a hamper down the hall.
She pauses outside the MRI suite. Through a cracked door: a
man’s muffled voice — the same trembling voice from the audio
file.
A SECOND VOICE (FILTERED, calm, assured) responds:
“Your contributions keep the machinery turning. Discretion is
the keystone.”
Dana freezes — the cadence matches the background voice from
the recording. Could it be Kerrick?
She takes out a miniature mic on a keychain, clicks it once —
recording.
A shadow falls over her.
SECURITY GUARD
This hallway’s off limits.
DANA
Got lost looking for the laundry
chute.
He doesn’t buy it, but doesn’t press. As he walks her out,
Dana notices a framed photo on the wall: ribbon-cutting for
the retreat. Kerrick’s in the background, blurred, but
unmistakable in posture.
Genres:
["Thriller","Mystery","Suspense"]
Ratings
Scene
20 -
Secrets Unveiled
EXT. GLENDALE RETREAT — BACK ALLEY — DAY
Dana dumps the laundry cart, strips the staff coat, walks
fast.
Across the street, Eli leans against the Cherokee.
ELI
You’re late.
DANA
I was collecting voices.
ELI
And risking getting yours cut.
They climb in. As they pull away, a black SUV slides out from
the side street and tucks in three cars back.
INT. SAFEHOUSE — NIGHT
Dim lamplight. Dana uploads the keychain recording to Sera.
SERA (PHONE)
Same voice pattern as the Glendale
file. And your guess was right —
secondary voice is Kerrick.
DANA
Then he’s not just cleanup. He’s
ops.
SERA
Ops with a philosophy. You’ll hear
it when you play the long cut.
Dana sits back. The sound of Kerrick’s smooth tone fills the
room:
“The ledger is the spine. Everything else is cartilage. Break
it, the body dies. Guard it, and you’re immortal.”
Dana hits stop. The silence after feels heavier.
CUT TO:
Genres:
["Thriller","Mystery"]
Ratings
Scene
21 -
Unspoken Tensions
EXT. ROADSIDE DINER — NIGHT
Eli and Dana in a back booth. A waitress tops off their
coffee, leaves.
DANA
What was Kerrick to you?
ELI
Recruiter. Taught me three things —
never carry what you can’t burn,
never threaten unless you’re ready
to bury, and…
DANA
…and?
ELI
Never get sentimental.
DANA
You break that last one?
ELI
Maybe. You’re still breathing,
aren’t you?
Dana studies him. Something there she can’t decide to
believe.
CUT TO:
Genres:
["Thriller","Mystery","Crime"]
Ratings
Scene
22 -
Secrets in the Shadows
EXT. STORAGE FACILITY — NIGHT
Dana and Eli approach another unit on Sera’s tip. Eli breaks
the lock like it’s muscle memory.
Inside:
—Boxes labeled with shell company names.
—A VHS tape labeled: GALA – WINTER 2005.
—A safety deposit key taped to the inside wall.
Dana pockets the tape and key.
DANA
This from your wolf-head buddies?
ELI
Everything is from them, one way or
another.
As they leave, a shadow moves at the end of the row. Dana
catches it; Eli pretends not to.
Genres:
["Thriller","Mystery"]
Ratings
Scene
23 -
Unveiling Secrets
INT. SAFEHOUSE — LATER
They play the VHS on an ancient VCR. Footage of a lavish
party, blurred faces, champagne.
Midway through, the camera tilts, catching a moment: Kerrick
with a much younger Dana’s father, laughing, glasses raised.
Dana freezes.
ELI
That your old man?
She doesn’t answer.
FLASHBACK — INT. GARAGE — NIGHT
Her father burns papers in a metal bin. Dana (16) watches
through a crack in the door. Among the pages: the same ledger
formatting Hollen described.
BACK TO PRESENT.
DANA
Yeah. That’s him.
ELI
You knew he was connected?
DANA
I suspected. I never knew to who.
Genres:
["Mystery","Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
24 -
Confrontation in the Shadows
EXT. BACK ROAD — NIGHT
Driving. Dana white-knuckles the wheel.
DANA (V.O.)
Ledger’s not just about the names
in it. It’s about the hands that
wrote them down.
CUT TO:
INT. RAIL YARD — NIGHT
We revisit the wolf-head contact scene — but extended.
Dana, unseen, overhears Eli promise to “deliver her within
forty-eight hours.”
She storms out of hiding.
DANA
Forty-eight hours for what?
ELI
To keep you alive.
DANA
By handing me over?
ELI
By making them think they’ve still
got me. Which means you get a head
start.
She doesn’t thank him.
CUT TO:
Genres:
["Thriller","Mystery"]
Ratings
Scene
25 -
High-Stakes Exchange
EXT. LONGEVITY CENTER — DAY
Sera on her own mission. Inside the archives room, she scans
barcodes — finds Patient: M. REYES in cold storage.
A lab tech appears.
LAB TECH
Restricted area.
SERA
So’s what you’re doing.
She leaves, heart racing, knowing she’s now on their radar.
HALLORAN
Ledger’s not paper anymore. It’s
backed up. But the physical’s still
out there.
DANA
Where?
He scribbles on a napkin: “K-17 – old listening station”.
Before he can finish, a red dot appears on his chest.
GUNSHOT.
Dana and Eli dive for cover as glass shatters. Halloran
slumps, dead.
Dana snatches the napkin and a hard key drive from his pocket
as Eli returns fire.
They escape into the night.
CUT TO:
Genres:
["Thriller","Mystery"]
Ratings
Scene
26 -
Infiltration and Eavesdropping
EXT. DESERT RIDGE — PRE-DAWN
Dana and Eli park above the listening station.
ELI
This where we die?
DANA
Not if we’re lucky.
They descend toward the bunker. The wolf-head logo is spray-
painted on a utility shed — fresh.
INT. LISTENING STATION — ADMIN HALL — DAY
Inside, the air hums with machinery. Dana overhears two
voices ahead — one of them is unmistakably Kerrick.
“Clear the residuals. Priority order.”
They duck into a side room.
DANA
Residuals means…
ELI
People who can still talk.
CUT TO:
Genres:
["Thriller","Mystery"]
Ratings
Scene
27 -
Confrontation in the Server Room
INT. LISTENING STATION — SERVER ROOM — CONTINUOUS
Rows of racks. Dana slots the hard key into a terminal. The
screen populates with directories — including LEDGER/ORIG.
She starts an uplink to Sera via the sat puck. Progress bar:
1%.
Kerrick appears at the far end, flanked by two guards.
KERRICK
And here we are. The trespassers.
Dana keeps working.
KERRICK (CONT'D)
You want to publish? Fine. But
you’ll kill the wrong people along
with the guilty. You ready for
that?
DANA
Truth’s not a scalpel. It’s a
grenade.
KERRICK
Then pray you’re out of the blast
radius.
He leaves, calm as a surgeon.
CUT TO:
Genres:
["Thriller","Mystery"]
Ratings
Scene
28 -
Race Against Time
EXT. SERVER ROOM EXIT — MINUTES LATER
Eli stops Dana.
ELI
He’s not bluffing. You drop this
all at once, you bury innocents
too.
DANA
Collateral damage is their phrase,
not mine.
They move deeper into the bunker. In a locked cabinet, Dana
finds it — the physical ledger, bound in black leather,
heavier than it should be.
CUT TO:
EXT. BUNKER EXIT — DAY
They emerge into sunlight. Dana clutches the ledger. Eli
scans the ridge — two SUVs cresting.
ELI
We’ve got company.
DANA
Then we make our own road again.
They sprint for the Cherokee as the engines roar behind them.
FADE OUT:
FADE IN:
Genres:
["Thriller","Mystery","Action"]
Ratings
Scene
29 -
Desert Escape
EXT. DESERT ROAD / RIM OF THE FLATS — DAY
The Cherokee punches through heat shimmer. In the mirror: two
SUVs crest the ridge — insects with sirens for hearts.
Inside the cab, Dana drives like the road owes her money. Eli
tightens a makeshift bandage at his hairline.
ELI
Say it.
DANA
Say what?
ELI
That you’re scared.
DANA
I don’t rehearse the obvious.
A HELICOPTER thuds awake beyond the hills. Eli rolls down his
window and flares a smoke curtain into the wash.
The SUVs hesitate. The Cherokee slips into a dry riverbed,
vanishing beneath a skin of smoke.
Genres:
["Thriller","Action"]
Ratings
Scene
30 -
Custody and Fear
EXT. CITY OUTSKIRTS — DUSK
They rattle up to a lonely self-storage with dying signage.
Dana kills the engine. Silence lands like ash.
DANA
We need an hour.
ELI
You’ll get six minutes.
She cracks the ledger on her lap. Names. Amounts. Annotations
in a careful, old-world hand. A note in the margin: “K-17 >
custody only.”
DANA (V.O.)
Custody kills. Hollen said that.
Eli watches the empty road, listening hard.
ELI
You find what you were afraid of?
DANA
I found who taught me to be afraid.
Genres:
["Thriller","Mystery"]
Ratings
Scene
31 -
Proof in the Shadows
INT. SELF-STORAGE — UNIT 117 — DUSK
Corrugated steel, hot breath air.
Dana props the ledger on a storage bin and starts phone-
photographing each page with deliberate rhythm. Click. Click.
Click.
ELI
You trust cloud backup?
DANA
I trust multiplication.
ELI
That’s not the same thing.
Her phone buzzes: SERA — “Mirror stable for now. Legal
incoming. Be quick.”
DANA
We’re running.
ELI
We’re limping.
DANA
We limp fast.
She flips to the back matter. A thin vellum pocket nobody
bothered to open in years.
She slides out a black-and-white contact sheet — gala
candids. In the corner: Kerrick with Dana’s father, younger,
eyes reckless. The caption stamp: “Winter 2005 – Foundation
Ball.”
Dana’s jaw tightens.
ELI
Proof’s a funny drug.
DANA
It’s the only one I take.
Genres:
["Thriller","Mystery"]
Ratings
Scene
32 -
The Lesson of Patience
EXT. STORAGE ROW — CONTINUOUS
A shadow crosses the row mouth. Eli tenses. Dana kills the
light, eases the door down to a slit.
Two men in polos stroll past like a walk after dinner. Wolf-
head patches, understated and smug.
They continue on. Silence.
Eli exhales through his nose.
ELI
They’re teaching us a lesson.
DANA
What’s the lesson?
ELI
That they can wait longer than we
can.
Genres:
["Thriller","Mystery"]
Ratings
Scene
33 -
Tension in the Shadows
INT. MASON’S APARTMENT — NIGHT
Books stacked like sandbags. Mason opens the door to Dana and
Eli, and to trouble.
MASON
I made soup.
DANA
We made fire.
They step in. Dana sets the ledger on the table with the
softness reserved for newborns and bombs.
MASON
Oh good. The thing that gets you
killed faster.
He ladles soup, sets it near Dana. She doesn’t touch it.
MASON (CONT'D)
You look like six kinds of hell.
ELI
We were aiming for five.
MASON
You want a priest or a lawyer?
DANA
Neither prays the way I do.
She pushes her phone across: dozens of ledger photos, contact
sheet, K-17 memo.
Mason flips through. He stops on a name. We don’t see it.
MASON (UNDER HIS BREATH)
Jesus.
DANA
Say it out loud.
MASON
It’s not a name you print first.
It’s one you build toward so your
audience doesn’t choke.
DANA
That’s the editor talking.
MASON
It’s the man who still wants you
alive.
His phone vibrates on the table. Unknown Caller. He silences
it. It vibrates again. He flips it face down.
Dana notices the tremor in his hand.
DANA
Who’s calling?
MASON
Nobody I want to talk to twice.
Genres:
["Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
34 -
Rooftop Revelations
EXT. CITY ROOFTOP — NIGHT
A cheap rooftop with a view of expensive roofs. Sera stands
with her phone, wind bully-hugging her coat.
SERA (PHONE)
We’ve got the ledger pages, but
they’re trying to poison the well —
anonymous dossiers claiming the
files are fabricated. One thing
keeps repeating: “Provenance
compromise: Rourke.”
DANA (PHONE)
They’re putting my fingerprints on
their bombs.
SERA
If I publish now, we get page views
and a funeral. If I wait, we get a
longer article and two funerals.
DANA
You do both. Leak a taste to small
outlets. Hold the spine for the
kill shot.
SERA
Copy. Also—
(swallows)
There’s chatter about a trade.
DANA
What kind of trade?
SERA
You… for a list of women still
alive. A “good faith gesture.”
Wind eats the silence.
DANA
They don’t trade good faith. They
rent despair.
SERA
I’m telling you so you can say no
before someone asks me yes.
DANA
Thank you.
SERA
Don’t make me a liar.
They hang up. Sera stares at the city like it’s a math
problem.
CUT TO:
Genres:
["Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
35 -
Unresolved Tensions
INT. MASON’S APARTMENT — LATER
Dana and Mason alone. Eli’s in the kitchen, sleeves rolled,
washing blood out of his hair. The domesticity is obscene and
necessary.
DANA
You ever cover a story that ate
you?
MASON
Three. I married one. Divorced two.
DANA
My father knew Kerrick. They were…
social.
MASON
I saw. You okay?
DANA
Define okay.
He looks at her long enough to see everything she’d rather
hide.
MASON
You’re not your father.
DANA
I’m his student whether I want to
be or not.
MASON
Then outlearn him.
Eli returns with a first aid kit. He sets it down like a
peace offering.
ELI
You two done sharpening?
DANA
We’re dulling edges. Different
thing.
CUT TO:
Genres:
["Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
36 -
Fractured Ties
EXT. ALLEY BEHIND MASON’S — NIGHT
Dumpster shadows. A cat stalks something that isn’t there. A
car idles a block down — windows smoked.
Eli steps out with garbage, drops the bag, doesn’t drop his
awareness.
He lifts his shirt hem. The wolf-head patch flashes in the
alley’s weak light. The idling car pulls off. He watches it
go.
ELI (V.O.)
You can leave a fraternity. It
doesn’t leave you.
He pockets a small flip phone, types a short text: “48h
shift. Not tonight.” Sends. Crushes the phone in his fist
until it cracks, dumps it in the bin.
CUT TO:
Genres:
["Thriller","Mystery"]
Ratings
Scene
37 -
Whispers of Custody
INT. MASON’S APARTMENT — NIGHT
Dana photographs the contact sheet. A particular frame
catches her: Kerrick whispering to her father at the bar. Her
father’s mouth forms the word “custody.”
FLASHBACK — INT. GARAGE — NIGHT (YEARS AGO)
Young Dana watches her father seal the shoebox with duct
tape. He writes “TAX” on the lid. The word bleeds through a
little from something darker beneath.
DANA’S FATHER (O.S.)
Some things you keep to keep other
things.
BACK TO PRESENT.
DANA (V.O.)
Custody is what kills.
Her phone BUZZES: SERA — “Hand-delivered packets posted. 3
international outlets tied in.”
DANA
They’re out.
MASON
Not the way you want. But out is a
start.
A shiver runs through the building — the elevator stopping on
their floor. Everyone stills.
A polite KNOCK.
Dana’s hand moves to the Glock. Mason shakes his head, goes
to the door.
He opens it on a flower delivery: lilies, obscene in their
beauty.
A white card: “Peach cobbler Sunday.”
Dana’s throat tightens. She takes the card. On the back, in
block print: “Not safe to go home.”
MASON (CONT'D)
They know your mother.
DANA
They always did.
She pocket-slices the card with a nail. Tucks it into the
ledger.
CUT TO:
Genres:
["Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
38 -
A Choice of Conscience
EXT. MOM’S HOUSE — NIGHT
A small house on a quiet street. Curtains parted a finger-
width. A woman’s silhouette crosses the living room.
Across the street, a black sedan parks. Lights off. Waits.
The wolf-head glows unobtrusively on a sleeve inside.
INT. CONSORTIUM — BASEMENT — NIGHT
Sera clicks publish on three international partners. The
headlines are restrained but surgical.
Her phone lights: Unknown.
SERA
Make it good.
KERRICK (PHONE)
Ms. Avella. Polite of you to work
late. Let’s buy each other time.
SERA
You buying, I’m selling? Or—
KERRICK
You’ll give me Ms. Rourke. I’ll
give you twenty women not yet dead.
We both look like we believe in
something.
Sera stares at the cursor blinking in a blank email.
SERA
If I believed you, I wouldn’t be
me.
KERRICK
You don’t have to believe. You have
to choose what headline you want on
your conscience.
SERA
I already chose mine.
She ends the call. Hands shaking. Then steadies. Back to
work.
CUT TO:
Genres:
["Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
39 -
Under the Shadows
EXT. RIVERSIDE UNDERPASS — NIGHT
Dana and Eli idle in the dark. The city above is a heartbeat.
DANA
He called Sera. Offered me.
ELI
What’d she say?
DANA
No. And then she put more of us
online.
ELI
Then she knows the rule: if you’re
going to be damned, be loud.
A pair of headlights glide past, hesitate, continue.
ELI (CONT'D)
We need to move your mother.
DANA
We need to move the world.
ELI
Start smaller.
He dials a number from memory, not emotion.
ELI (INTO PHONE) (CONT'D)
Mrs. Rourke? Hi, I’m a friend of
Dana’s. I need you to pack a bag
with nothing you’ll miss, and put
the stove light on, and walk out
the back in three minutes. Don’t
take your car. Right. I’ll be the
one who looks like a mistake.
Dana watches him, the way he adjusts his voice to calm a
stranger without lying.
DANA
You ever think about being decent
full-time?
ELI
I’m temping.
CUT TO:
Genres:
["Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
40 -
Into the Night
INT. MOM’S HOUSE — NIGHT
Dana’s Mom grabs a bag, kills the TV, leaves the stove light
on. She opens the back door — Eli stands there like he said
he would.
DANA’S MOM
You’re the mistake?
ELI
Ma’am, I’m the best kind.
They slip into the night.
CUT TO:
EXT. CHURCH PARKING LOT — NIGHT
A sanctuary that pretends better. Dana hugs her Mom tight;
the hug is a question and an answer.
DANA’S MOM
You’re not eating. You’re not
sleeping. Your father—
DANA
—taught me to hide. I’m done
hiding.
DANA’S MOM
He thought he was protecting us.
DANA
He thought wrong.
DANA’S MOM
He always did.
She cups Dana’s face.
DANA’S MOM (CONT'D)
Be careful. Be mean if you have to.
DANA
I’m good at mean.
She loads her mother into a rideshare driven by a woman in
her fifties who looks like she can win fights. Eli pays cash
to cover the night.
DRIVER
No apps. No names. Where to?
DANA’S MOM
Anywhere my daughter isn’t.
They drive. Dana watches until the red taillights become a
rumor.
EXT. DOWNTOWN — NIGHT
Neon and lies. Dana and Eli walk among the rushing. A
reflection in a storefront: Kerrick behind them, then not.
DANA (V.O.)
Some predators hunt by shadow. Some
by civility.
Genres:
["Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
41 -
The Ultimatum
INT. HOTEL BAR — NIGHT
Polished wood, expensive laughter. Kerrick waits in a dark
corner wearing the kind of suit that never wrinkles. No
guards visible — which means plenty nearby.
Dana slides into the opposite seat. Eli stands at a careful
distance, observing reflections.
KERRICK
Ms. Rourke. You look unafraid.
That’s how you know you should be.
DANA
I don’t like cosplay. You want to
talk, talk.
KERRICK
I want to offer you a job.
DANA
Pass.
KERRICK
Premature. You don’t know the
benefits.
He gestures; a bartender sets down three glasses without
looking at anyone.
KERRICK (CONT'D)
You think power is a castle. It’s a
management problem. You could help
solve it.
DANA
You’re recruiting me to clean your
mess.
KERRICK
No. To design a better drainage
system.
He slides a paper across. A single ledger page — names Dana
recognizes — and one she didn’t expect: MASON CHO — an
annotated donation to a “legal defense fund” that smells like
silence.
Dana stares, then looks up at Kerrick with a lethal
stillness.
KERRICK (CONT'D)
Do you publish him with the rest?
Or do you edit?
DANA
That page is bait.
KERRICK
It’s truth with a purpose. So is
what you do. Don’t dress it up.
DANA
He saved my life.
KERRICK
Then make sure he keeps it.
He pockets the page again — a magician keeping the trick
unfinished.
KERRICK (CONT'D)
Leave the ledger where it is. Walk
away. Write about something
sanitary. Or take my offer.
(MORE)
KERRICK (CONT'D)
Write the future instead of
reporting the past.
DANA
You break people and call it
architecture.
KERRICK
I keep the building from falling on
your head.
He stands. Buttoned. Perfect.
KERRICK (CONT'D)
We don’t erase you all at once, Ms.
Rourke. We offer you promotions.
He leaves. No one notices a thing.
Eli steps in, reads her face, doesn’t ask. They exit out the
kitchen, past a dishwasher singing to drown out his shift.
CUT TO:
Genres:
["Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
42 -
Confronting Truths on the Rooftop
EXT. ROOFTOP GARAGE — NIGHT
Wind. The city below is a soft burn.
DANA
He showed me Mason’s name.
ELI
You believe it?
DANA
I believe they want me to.
ELI
What do you want?
DANA
To hurt him. And not to.
ELI
That’s how they win — when you
start editing the truth to fit your
life.
She stares at him until he looks away. Then he looks back.
ELI (CONT'D)
We’re not saints. We’re janitors.
We clean what we can and don’t
choke on the rest.
DANA
Speak for yourself.
ELI
I just did.
CUT TO:
Genres:
["Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
43 -
Threats in the Dark
INT. NEWS CONSORTIUM — BASEMENT — NIGHT
Sera hits refresh. The international partners’ stories are
trending in countries where lawyers can’t sprint that fast.
Her office door clicks. Two men step in. Polos. Wolf-heads.
Civility.
WOLF #1
Evening.
SERA
We’re closed for prayer.
WOLF #2
We brought confession.
They hold up a thumb drive. No guns. The threat is process.
WOLF #1
Proof your files are fabricated.
Chain-of-custody flaws. Metadata
noise. A friendly tip.
SERA
Leave it.
They do. They also leave a business card. Blank, except for
an embossed wolf-head.
WOLF #2
This was a courtesy. Next time
we’ll be less polite.
They go. Sera locks the door, then laughs — a brittle, brave
sound.
She plugs the drive into an air-gapped box. It loads a PDF —
well-crafted lies. She screenshots them anyway.
SERA (V.O.)
You document even the fakes.
Otherwise they become the only
record.
A police cruiser lights up behind — red-blue gospel. Dana
signals, pulls to the shoulder. The cruiser slides past to
the car behind them instead, pulls it over with performative
authority.
Dana and Eli exchange a look.
ELI
Budget theater.
DANA
Ticket’s still real.
She guns it back into traffic.
CUT TO:
Genres:
["Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
45 -
Confrontation in the Shadows
INT. MASON’S APARTMENT — NIGHT
Mason at his desk. The ledger photos open on his monitor. He
stares at his own name on the page Dana saw, then at a folder
on his drive labeled “2009—COURT”.
He opens the folder. Court transcripts, doctor’s bills,
mortgage default notices. A wire receipt for a one-time
donation from a “Civic Fund.”
A quiet, furious tear he doesn’t dignify by wiping.
His phone rings: Unknown.
MASON
You get one sentence.
KERRICK (PHONE)
Your page won’t run — if you
convince Ms. Rourke to stand down.
MASON
She won’t listen.
KERRICK
Then make her.
MASON
Or you… what? Remind her what loss
tastes like?
Silence, then the faint sound of Kerrick’s smile.
KERRICK
She already knows.
The call ends. Mason stares at the wall until it becomes a
target.
CUT TO:
Genres:
["Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
46 -
Dawn of Uncertainty
EXT. SAFEHOUSE #2 — DAWN
A different rotten motel. New bedspread. Same ghosts.
Dana sits on the floor with the ledger, the contact sheet,
and the page Kerrick showed (she sketched it from memory).
Eli sleeps sitting up, pistol in hand, veteran of too many
wrong rooms.
DANA (V.O.)
I was taught to keep what keeps
worse things away. Then I learned
worse things don’t care what you
keep.
Her phone buzzes: SERA — “Couriered packets landed. 2 outlets
live. One pulled after legal threat. I kept copies.”
DANA (TEXT)
Keep moving.
SERA (TEXT)
We’re dancing with a pit viper.
Don’t stop the music.
CUT TO:
Genres:
["Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
47 -
Debt and Danger
EXT. WAREHOUSE DISTRICT — MORNING
Dana meets Rook by a stack of pallets. He opens a metal case:
old Canon, two lenses, micro-drones the size of mints.
ROOK
You owe me a carburetor, plus a new
religion.
DANA
Invoice me in hell.
She pockets the micro-drones.
ROOK
You’re gonna get cooked.
DANA
Everyone does.
CUT TO:
Genres:
["Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
48 -
Covert Surveillance: A Risky Encounter
EXT. LONGEVITY CENTER — DAY
Dana and Eli on a parking garage across from the retreat.
Dana flies a micro-drone off the edge like a coin tossed into
fate. It flits across, dips to a fourth-floor window. Live
feed to Dana’s phone: an archive room with boxes labeled
“PATIENT / LEGAL”.
ELI
You sure you want inside that?
DANA
I want inside everything.
She steers the drone along the duct into a back office —
Kerrick at a desk, no jacket, sleeves rolled, writing by hand
in a small black notebook.
DANA (CONT'D)
He keeps a personal ledger.
ELI
Of course he does.
Kerrick looks up right at the vent. The drone feed shivers as
if he can see the lens. He walks over and closes the vent
grate with two fingers.
Feed goes black.
ELI (CONT'D)
He saw you.
DANA
He was waiting.
CUT TO:
Genres:
["Thriller","Mystery"]
Ratings
Scene
49 -
Defiance in the Face of Threats
INT. HOTEL CONFERENCE ROOM — DAY
Sera addresses a roundtable of three small outlet editors.
She lays out printouts, hash checks, timeline boards.
SERA
They will threaten you. They will
offer you friendly corrections and
unfriendly audits. Publish anyway.
Publish with caveats if your lawyer
needs them. Do not bury the names
that can survive the light.
A young editor raises a hand.
YOUNG EDITOR
Do we blur anyone?
SERA
Blur no faces. Blur no facts. Blur
one thing, they’ll claim you
blurred all of it.
Another hand.
OLDER EDITOR
Do we expect… physical risk?
The door clicks. Two men enter — not wolf-heads. City
inspectors with clipboards.
INSPECTOR
Fire code check. Random.
Sera smiles like she’s been waiting for exactly this.
SERA
Perfect. Start with the stairwell.
It’s where the exits are.
She winks at the editors. They grin, terrified and awake.
Genres:
["Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
50 -
Strategic Tensions
INT. SAFEHOUSE #2 — AFTERNOON
Dana storyboards on motel stationary. Two paths: Leak
Everything vs Slow Burn.
ELI
You’re writing your own obit.
DANA
I’m writing my plan.
ELI
Those are synonyms today.
He sits, finally honest tired.
ELI (CONT'D)
Kerrick told me once: “The only
difference between a terrorist and
a tactician is zip code.” He thinks
he’s a tactician. I think he’s zip
codes away from human.
DANA
He offered me a job.
Eli laughs once, then realizes she’s serious.
ELI
You say yes?
DANA
I said pass.
ELI
Good. You’d hate the benefits.
DANA
He showed me a page with Mason’s
name.
Eli flinches.
ELI
They’re trying to salt the field.
Make you choke on your own garden.
DANA
Maybe. Or maybe we’re farming in a
graveyard.
ELI
Then stop planting lies.
DANA
I plant matches.
She pockets the ledger. He watches her like a man who knows
how many exits a room has and still doesn’t feel safe.
Genres:
["Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
51 -
Unsettling Orders
EXT. RESIDENTIAL STREET — SUNSET
A suburban block with perfect lawns. A girl on a scooter
squeals past Eli, who’s on the sidewalk, phone at his ear.
ELI (PHONE)
It’s done. Forty-eight hours come
and gone. You didn’t get her.
VOICE (PHONE)
Orders changed.
ELI
To what?
VOICE
To everything.
Click. Eli pockets the phone, notices the girl’s father on
the porch — wolf-head polo. They lock eyes. The father lifts
his beer, smiles blandly. Eli walks on.
Genres:
["Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
52 -
Echoes of Silence
EXT. PEDESTRIAN BRIDGE — TWILIGHT
Dana stands mid-span, the city arterial below a blur. Mason
joins, cradling paper cups of cheap coffee.
MASON
You gonna push me?
DANA
Tempting. But I need a copy editor.
He hands her a cup. She doesn’t drink.
MASON
You saw my name.
She doesn’t answer.
MASON (CONT'D)
My kid was sick in ’09. My wife
left after ‘10. A “civic fund” paid
a bill nobody else would. I didn’t
ask why. That’s my sin. Not the
money. The silence.
DANA
You tell me because you want
absolution or armor?
MASON
I tell you because they’ll make me
your blind spot. Don’t let them.
DANA
You’re on the page. Pages are for
printing.
MASON
Then print me. Print me right.
He sets the coffee down. The cup skitters, falls through the
gap, annihilated by the freeway below.
MASON (CONT'D)
That’s what happens when you fall.
Nobody sees the part where you were
just… a cup.
He leaves. She watches the cars erase the evidence.
CUT TO:
Genres:
["Drama","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
53 -
The Ledger Trap
INT. LONGEVITY CENTER — NIGHT
Kerrick alone in the archive room, studying a wall of photos:
women, men, money. He places a new index card under DANA
ROURKE: “Tier 1 – Recruitment failed.”
He moves a card labeled ELI SANTANA from “Asset (lapsed)” to
“Asset (volatile).”
He closes the black notebook he writes in and slips it into
his inner pocket like a kept secret.
CUT TO:
EXT. ABANDONED THEATER — NIGHT
Dana and Eli slip inside the rotted palace. Velvet cancer on
the walls. A smell like wet history.
DANA
We’re staging here?
ELI
We’re listening here.
He plants a small directional mic array in the proscenium
mouth. Dana sets the ledger in a pelican case dead center
stage, visible from the mezzanine.
ELI (CONT'D)
Bait.
DANA
Mirror.
They retreat to the shadows. Wait.
FOOTSTEPS. Two wolf-heads ghost in. Then a third — not wolf-
head. Mason.
Dana blinks fury and grief.
MASON (CALLING LIGHTLY)
You left your book in a church,
Rourke.
Dana steps out, gun low.
DANA
You brought friends.
MASON
I brought witnesses. I don’t meet
ghosts alone.
WOLF #1
Ledger. Now.
ELI
Shoot either of us and this whole
place burns proof that you were
here.
He points to a tripwire Dana rigged — a theater trick with
real consequences. The wolves hesitate.
MASON
No one shoots. No one plays hero.
We talk.
DANA
You first.
MASON
Print me. Print the page. But you
don’t print it without the
paragraph that says why. We don’t
let them own the narrative about
the people they broke.
WOLF #2
This is tiresome.
He reaches for the pelican case. The tripwire sings. A small
thermite pop blossoms under the stage — not destructive, just
dramatic — a flash that says we see you.
The wolves back off. Kerrick appears in the aisle, slow-
clapping once, because he hates theater but respects
competent blocking.
KERRICK
Finally. Honesty.
DANA
You want the book? Come get
baptized.
KERRICK
No. Take it and keep it. I came to
watch you choose.
He studies Mason.
KERRICK (CONT'D)
Are you her blind spot, Mr. Cho?
MASON
Not today.
KERRICK
We’ll see.
He turns, leaves, wolves following. The theater exhales.
ELI
They’re not scared of fire.
DANA
They’re scared of being seen
running from it.
She closes the pelican. Looks at Mason. Doesn’t thank him.
CUT TO:
Genres:
["Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
54 -
Determined Resolve
EXT. CITY — NIGHT — AERIAL
Rising from the streets, lifting above the grid. Headlines
flicker on LED facades in three languages — small outlets
carrying pieces of the ledger. The big networks run “ALLEGED”
banners like wallpaper.
DANA (V.O.)
You don’t win with truth. You win
with persistence.
CUT TO:
INT. SAFEHOUSE #3 — NIGHT
Dana sits at a rickety table with the ledger, her sketched
page of Mason’s entry, and a new draft: “The Book That Owns
the World.”
She writes: “Editors Note: One of our own appears in these
records. Here’s why we’re printing his name — and his
context.”
ELI watches from the bed, eyes heavy, pistol under his hand.
ELI
You’re going to hate yourself
later.
DANA
I can live with that.
ELI
Can he?
DANA
He asked me to.
She keeps writing.
CUT TO:
Genres:
["Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
55 -
Peach of Defiance
EXT. MOM’S NEW PLACE — NIGHT
A basement unit with bars and a dog that doesn’t bark. Dana’s
Mom waters a plant that won’t grow.
The driver from earlier sits in a kitchen chair, reading a
paperback. A radio murmurs old Armenian music.
A note on the fridge: “Be mean if you have to.”
CUT TO:
INT. NEWS CONSORTIUM — NIGHT
Sera hits SEND on the full feature to the International Five.
Her hand shakes. She clamps it still on the desk.
The office lights flicker. The building hums like it just got
thirsty.
She steps into the hallway. No one. Back at her desk, a
single peach sits where there wasn’t one.
She smiles despite fear.
SERA (V.O.)
They think apples are the original
sin. I prefer peaches.
She takes a bite. Juice down her wrist. She licks it with
defiance.
CUT TO:
Genres:
["Drama","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
56 -
Choosing a Side
EXT. FREEWAY OVERLOOK — PRE-DAWN
Dana and Eli sit on the hood of the Cherokee, city a bruise
about to bloom.
ELI
When this publishes, there’s no
after. There’s just “still.”
DANA
Still is better than gone.
ELI
Not always.
He pulls a small velvet box from his pocket. Not a ring. A
dog tag with his name ground off.
ELI (CONT'D)
Proof I used to be someone else.
He drops it into her palm.
DANA
You’re still someone else.
ELI
Today.
He stands. The air changes.
He looks past her, to the access road below — three SUVs
pause, then continue. He relaxes. Something like relief;
something like regret.
ELI (CONT'D)
If I die today, don’t make me
brave. Make me useful.
DANA
I don’t do eulogies.
ELI
Good.
He walks to the edge and throws the pistol into the brush.
She stares.
DANA
What are you doing?
ELI
Choosing a side.
CUT TO:
Genres:
["Drama","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
57 -
Strategic Evasion
INT. LONGEVITY CENTER — WAR ROOM — DAWN
Kerrick watches a bank of screens: small outlets, angry
panels, legal filings crawling like vines. He sips tea.
OPERATIVE
Do we escalate?
KERRICK
No. Let them climb. People fall on
their own.
He opens his black pocket notebook. Writes: “Rourke:
inevitable. Not containable.” He draws a small box around her
name. Not a coffin. A frame.
CUT TO:
EXT. NEWS CONSORTIUM — MORNING
Sera exits with a messenger bag. A wolf-head car slides up.
The two men from before step out.
WOLF #1
Ms. Avella. Let’s ride.
Sera smiles like she has a better punchline.
SERA
No.
WOLF #2
We insist.
A bus screeches in. A crowd pours off — union folks heading
to a rally. Sera melts into them. The wolves hesitate, then
vanish as a bike cop rounds the corner.
Sera doesn’t look back.
CUT TO:
Genres:
["Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
58 -
The Power of Footnotes
INT. MASON’S APARTMENT — MORNING
Mason prints the final draft Dana sent. He marks with a red
pen like a surgeon and a sinner.
A shadow falls in his doorway. He doesn’t turn.
MASON
Door was locked.
KERRICK (O.S.)
Locks make you feel better.
Mason turns. Kerrick stands there. No gun visible.
KERRICK (CONT'D)
This is your chance to be a
paragraph, not a headline.
MASON
I already chose. I’m a note at the
bottom.
KERRICK
Footnotes get cut.
MASON
Not this one.
He steps closer to Kerrick than a wise man would.
MASON (CONT'D)
You won’t kill me today. Not
because you can’t. Because you want
her to do it on paper.
Kerrick considers, then smiles like a teacher who found a
clever student.
KERRICK
You understand the game. Pity you
don’t enjoy it.
He leaves without a sound. Mason sags against the table, then
stands, angry at himself for sagging.
CUT TO:
Genres:
["Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
59 -
Under Watchful Eyes
EXT. NEWS KIOSK — DAY
Headlines in three languages: LEDGER LINKS ELITES TO GLOBAL
BLACKMAIL. WHISTLEBLOWERS FEAR FOR LIVES. WHO WATCHES THE
WATCHERS?
A hand slaps down cash. The vendor looks up to Dana. He
offers a bag. She shakes her head, tucks the paper under her
arm like contraband.
VENDOR
You write this?
DANA
Something like it.
VENDOR
Be careful.
DANA
Being loud is safer.
She walks on. A man in a dark coat watches from across the
street. He doesn’t follow. Yet.
Genres:
["Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
60 -
Scars of Survival
INT. SAFEHOUSE #3 — AFTERNOON
Dana prints the last ledger photo and lays it with the
others. She pulls out a metal tray, pours in rubbing alcohol,
and lays a single page down: a name that matters to her in a
way we understand without hearing it.
She strikes a match. Holds it above the tray.
ELI
You sure?
DANA
No.
She touches flame to alcohol. The page buckles, edges
blackening. She pulls it free before the name is gone. A scar
spirals across it.
DANA (CONT'D)
Scars prove survival.
She tacks the burn-scarred page to the wall.
EXT. CITY — SUNSET — AERIAL (SIGNATURE ENDING WIDEN)
We rise above the grid again. The city looks almost honest
from up here.
DANA (V.O.)
They don’t erase you all at once.
They make you disappear in pieces.
So you learn to write yourself
louder than they can rub you out.
The camera keeps climbing until the city is text on a page.