HOTEL SUITE – NIGHT
Steve sorts through a pile of photocopied pictures of Leslie
and Sarah. A Cozumel map sits open on
the desk with hotel names and locations crossed off with red marker. The sheets on the bed are still fresh with
mint candies on the pillows.
Steve reaches in the nightstand drawer and pulls out one of
Leslie’s shirts. He crumples the shirt
and inhales it.
EXT. PRESIDENTE SUITES PARKING LOT – DAY
Steve approaches Ambrose from the main lobby entrance. The sun is blinding.
I got your
We found the
Ambrose strolls toward a damaged rental Jeep. A crack in the windshield distends from one
end to the other. Both headlights are
The police towed it here an
hour ago. Found it abandoned
near the Puntas
Cozumel’s southern tip. About
kilometers from the main road.
Steve circles the Jeep and inspects the gravel embedded in
the knobby tires. He checks the floor
mats and finds a burned match.
this was hers?
Ambrose glances at his clipboard.
wife signed the rental
agreement two days ago.
with her besides my
indication where she went?
Ambrose looks over the rental agreement.
No, but the
from leaving the island.
someone ferry a rental
off the island?
to, but it
Steve wipes his hands across the seats, searching the fabric
and the space around the sandy floor mats.
He taps the gas can strapped to the tail gate; it rings HOLLOW. He touches the severely scratched hood.
vehicle’s been through hell
Most of this
island is uninhabited.
unpaved roads and rocky shorelines,
environment takes its toll on our
didn’t damage this hood.
Ambrose’s beeper goes off.
He takes it from his belt and reads the number.
I have a
pick-up at the airport.
need me, you can page me
Steve watches Ambrose walk away.
What do you
know about the
at Puntas Molas?
Ambrose turns. He
cups his hand on his forehead to shield the sun.
much. It’s been closed for
repairs since last summer.
anyone go there to swim or
crazy if they did.
The waters on
that side of
island are very rough.
a strong rip tide and
rocky shoreline that claims
least one boat a year.
Steve checks his watch and nods.
INT. LOBBY, PRESIDENTE SUITES – DAY
Steve approaches the front desk and spots Randy pushing a
luggage cart toward the elevator. Randy makes
eye contact with Steve, then looks down at the floor and shakes his head.
INT. CHAMBERS’ HOTEL SUITE – NIGHT
Steve packs a duffel bag with crackers, water, and a map of
Cozumel. A knock at the door prompts
Steve to open it.
Steve discovers an empty hallway. He
jogs toward the stairwell and looks over the open landing. When he returns to the room, he finds a note
on the floor outside his door.
INSERT – STEVE READS
Midnight – Pier 3 –
SAN MIGUEL, PIER 3 – NIGHT
Live music carries across the street from the seaside
promenade where Steve loiters among the masses dwarfed by the towering cruise
Steve proceeds along the pier to a vacant kiosk. A payphone rings. He grabs the handset on the third ring.
The line is silent.
Then a man’s voice come on.
MAN’s VOICE (VO)
Who is this?
MAN’s VOICE (VO)
Bar off Adolfo Rosado
Be there in ten minutes.
INT. EL LOCO’s BAR – NIGHT
Patrons whisper when Steve enters the dirt floor
establishment. Murals of ocean scenery
cover the stucco walls. Mariachi music
plays from a radio behind the bar.
Steve approaches a back room table where FBI Agents Dale
Smythe and Wendy Riker sit beneath the smoky glow of a naked light bulb. Smythe motions toward Steve.
Who the hell
Agent Riker displays her badge. Her gravel voice is thick and husky, yet
almost sultry at the same time.
Agent Riker with the
FBI. My partner, Special Agent
Agent Smythe leans forward on the bench seat, exposing his
considerable girth and his 9mm Glock holstered beneath his Hawaiian shirt. He nudges the top of his dark-rimmed glasses
that sit high on the edge of his bulbous nose.
cloak and dagger act?
We wanted to
be sure you weren’t
Agent Smythe points to the opposite bench seat.
following my family
we landed in Cozumel.
Agent Smythe lights a cigarette and blows smoke out the
corner of his mouth. Riker leans
forward, exposing cleavage from her V-neck blouse.
do you know about my wife
We’re investigating the disappearance
of nine people at various Caribbean
resorts. All are wealthy. And all
tapped their bank accounts before they
What are you
Agent Riker fans the cigarette smoke.
We suspect a
piracy ring is involved.
common than you think.
usually not in Caribbean
contacted you about
seen anyone suspicious
Steve glances around the room.
working with the local
aware of our investigation
our partnership with the Mexican
remains tenuous at best.
The Mexican Government doesn’t
Uncle Sam throwing
Especially when we suspect that
their own is involved.
know for certain. What
we do know is
at 0800, a Coast Guard sonar pinged
a sunken vessel in 300 feet of
water outside Aruba. The wreckage
suspect it might be a British
last scene in that general
the boat’s been missing
three days – along with its
owner and his mistress.
And you think pirates did this?
So what’s the connection to
We don’t know, yet.
Then why are you wasting
Agent Smythe glances
at his partner, then back to Steve.
pulled your naval records.
done everything from
scrubbing hulls to underwater
demolition. We need you to dive
to this sunken ship and identify it.
If it’s the yacht we’re looking for,
it might provide us with a lead.
Something tangible we can work from.
a job for a Coast
Guard needs four days
assemble a team. We can’t
We can have
you on site by 0600.
Three hundred feet is serious depth.
mixed gas. Heated suits.
top-side crew that’s worth their
Guard has equipment on
board. What they need is someone
qualified to use it. Right now,
you’re the only option we’ve got.
about my wife and daughter?
searching for them when I’m
undercover agents investigating
family’s disappearance as we speak.
people are good at what they do.
sooner we act on this, the better
our chances of finding your family.
Steve wipes his hand through his close-cropped hair. Agent Smythe drops his cigarette on the dirt
floor and crushes it under his shoe.
Time is our enemy.
Steve shakes his head.
I spoke with
the Deputy Consulate
assured you his people are
everything they can, right?
Do you know
how many people
in Mexico City every day?
We’re not debating what the Deputy
is: do you believe him?
EXT. SEA-NOTE BOW – DAY
Victor stands on deck with a 12-gauge pump-action
Browning. He blasts two clay pigeons
from the sky. Pulverized fragments fall
toward the water.
Damon pulls a rope attached to a spring-loaded launcher.
Three clay targets hurl through the air.
In one fluid motion, Victor brings the shotgun to his shoulder,
aims across the length of the barrel, fires, pumps, and fires again. 3-inch magnum cartridges litter the
deck. Smoke trails from the heated
Damon hands him a box of shells.
Damon launches three more targets. Before Victor can load the last shell and
fire, Damon draws his .357 Magnum and blasts the clay disks. Large chunks of broken clay fall to the
A 36-foot, twin-engine Donzi approaches from the distance
and slows alongside the longer yacht.
Victor steps across the Sea-Note’s gunwale to tie off.
Carajo! Donde has estado?
A bearded CUBAN BUYER in a straw hat, khaki Chinos, and a
silver briefcase boards the Sea-Note.
Two body guards armed with UZIs remain on board the Donzi.
The Cuban Buyer throws a glance at Victor. VICTOR LEAVES THE SCENE AND VENTURES TOWARD
INSIDE THE SEA-NOTE’s STARBOARD CABIN
Spread eagle on her back, Leslie stares up at the cabin
ceiling. Her eyes dart back and forth at
the sound of men’s voices. Her wrists
and ankles are tied with ropes that extend beyond the corners of the
mattress. She strains to free herself.
BACK TO THE SEA-NOTE MAIN SALON
The Cuban Buyer opens the silver briefcase and reveals
several $10,000 bundles of used bills.
The deal was
This is not
the boat I wanted.
Damon paces about the cabin.
He stops at the starboard porthole in the galley and peers at the body
guards aboard the Donzi.
The Cuban Buyer
whistles for his men. Victor emerges
from the WHEELHOUSE with a Heckler & Koch MP5 submachine gun.
Perhaps you take me for a fool?
I’ll take you anyway I want.
Victor riddles the
Cuban body guards with two quick bursts from the MP5. Shaking uncontrollably, the Cuban Buyer puts
his arms in the air. His crotch is
stained with urine.
Please… Take the money.
Victor blasts the
Cuban Buyer, knocking him backward as bullets tear his chest apart.
EXT. COAST GUARD
CUTTER – NIGHT
A helicopter hovers above the 110-foot Coast Guard Cutter,
CHINCOTEAGUE. Spot lights flood the
landing pad where Agent Smythe and Agent Riker escort Steve across the deck.
Shielding his eyes from the chopper’s downwash, Coast Guard
CAPTAIN PETERS greets Agent Smythe with a handshake. A slender man with steel blue eyes and a dark
tan, Captain Peters wears a gold academy ring with an emerald stone.
stay away could you?
Agent Smythe turns to Steve.
Steve extends a hand shake to the Captain.
Peters. Good to meet you.
aboard the Chincoteague.
I’m not sure
how much you’ve been
I can bring you
speed. We’ll commence our
sorry about your family. I
this mission helps.
INT. CHINCOTEAGUE SLEEPING QUARTERS – NIGHT
Steve rests on his back, staring wide-eyed at the bunk above
him. An enlisted crew member SNORES
LOUDLY in the rack across from him.
Steve checks his watch.
He rolls over.
STEVE DREAM SEQUENCE – LATER
shake beneath the murky water where he floats above the surface with a scuba
tank on his back, panning an underwater flashlight at the hull of the sunken
ship half buried in a portion of the ocean’s sandy bottom. Ripples in the metal plating on the foredeck
structure reveal rusted patches encrusted with layers of barnacle growth.
Steve breaks a
portal with the butt of his dive knife and aims the light at a school of
silver-gray fish swimming in the ship’s dining room. Lengths of wooden molding float among the
waterlogged rubble in a salt-water grave.
His own exhaust bubbles rumble above his head as he inspects the
grease-pen sketch on the dive slate attached to his scuba vest. The light reflects off the white tablet as he
studies the hand-drawn outline of the ship’s interior.
Employing a steady scissor kick, he swims toward the ship’s
stern. The underwater visibility
He swims inside a gaping hole above the engine room and ties
a guide line to a length of railing. He
swims through floating debris until a figure passes in front of him. Unable to discern the shadows through the
heavy sediment, he swims toward the bloated bodies of Leslie and Sarah. Their faces appear translucent with hollow
Steve spits out his mouthpiece and inhales a lung full of
STEVE’s BUNK – PRESENT DAY
Steve snaps awake.
He’s flat on his back, drenched in sweat. Shoes CLANG on the metal deck until a black
Coast Guard crewman named SEAMAN TATE calls out.
you are, Captain.
EXT. COAST GUARD DECK – DAY
Agent Smythe greets Steve as he makes his way to the diver’s
You up for
A group of enlisted men gather around the coils of hoses
extending from the surface-supplied air
control center. Seaman Tate
unlocks a storage trunk and drags out a canvas bag.
Give me a
hand with this.
Steve watches the men unload the diving equipment. He shakes his head when he sees the Russian
version of an American Mark V dive helmet complete with a metal breast plate
and canvas suit with lead-bottom boots.
Agent Smythe turns to Captain Peters.
Not what you
find that, e-Bay?
It’s old but
it works. And it’s
I wouldn’t put my worst
enemy in one of these.
A lot of
still use them.
Steve examines the dive helmet. Agent Smythe lights a cigarette. Behind the men, a small crane pivots with a
length of steel cable and an air-supplied umbilical cord extending from the
Seaman Tate steps forward.
is Master Chief Chambers.
his ears on this mission.
Aye aye Sir.
(to Seaman Tate)
worked a mixed gas rig before?
Seaman Tate looks at the Captain then turns sheepishly to
EXT. CRANE HOISTS STEVE OVERBOARD – DAY
Suspended by the mechanical arm, Steve dangles over the
cerulean blue water before the winch slowly deploys him feet first.
(instructing the crane operator)
We ain’t got
all day. There’s seven
of air in that suit.
What’s the problem?
suit is self contained.
turn on the main air
until he’s fully submerged.
up like the Michelin
INT. SEVERAL FEET BELOW THE SURFACE – DAY
Steve checks his air pressure from the analogue gauge on his
wrist. He sinks quickly with a narrow
field of vision through the oval faceplate.
His voice echoes inside the copper helmet.
200 FEET BELOW THE SURFACE – LATER
Colors fade in the absence of natural sunlight. Underwater visibility diminishes.
SEAMAN TATE (VO)
Steve activates his underwater strobe affixed to a lanyard
on his breast plate. Air bubbles gurgle
from his helmet’s exhaust port. When his
feet touch the surface, he pans the light.
He plods along the sandy bottom.
I don’t see
SEAMAN TATE (VO)
Do you have
Affirmative. Large figure.
make out the details.
Steve reaches the remains of the 50-foot sailing yacht and
finds a jagged opening in the hull. The
mast lays broken in half. Bullet holes
riddle the starboard side. Shards of
broken glass deflect the light beam.
SEAMAN TATE (VO)
Steve cranes his neck when a shadow flashes across his
peripheral vision. He pans the light and
sees nothing but floating sediment. He holds
his breath, then slowly exhales.
AGENT SMYTHE (VO)
You find our
Steve shines the light in front of him and makes his way
around the yacht’s stern. The name
X-T-SEA trails off the damaged transom.
looking for a motor
Static crackles in the dive helmet.
SEAMAN TATE (VO)
Chief… You’re breaking up.
Steve bangs his helmet with the flashlight. For a moment, all is silent except for the
sound of his exhaust bubbles. a
hammerhead shark blasts through a jagged opening in the yacht’s hull, tearing
across Steve’s path. The
flashlight SMACKS the yacht and dies.
Surrounded in darkness, Steve pants inside the helmet.
Tate? Are you with me?
Steve fumbles in the dark for the flashlight.
BACK ON DECK – LATER
A frenzied Seaman Tate shouts at the crane operator.
up! Take him up NOW!
The crane gently lowers Steve on deck. Water drips from the canvas suit. INSIDE
THE SUIT, Steve sweats profusely about the head and neck. He stares out the helmet faceplate as the
ship’s crew members gather to help remove the dive gear.
hot in here.
Seaman Tate takes a pneumatic lug wrench and starts to
unscrew the first of 8 bolts securing the helmet to the breast plate.
breath. I’ll have
you out in a
The pneumatic wrench malfunctions, emitting a rat-tat-tat-tat sound. Seaman Tate taps the wrench against the deck
to revive it but the equipment continues to fail. He grabs a manual wrench and attacks the
second bolt by hand.
Get him out
crack the O2 a notch?
Seaman Tate works frantically to loosen the third bolt.
You know I
can’t do that Chief.
compressor’s dead. We’re
to a back-up unit.
have ten minutes!
Seaman Tate spins the fourth bolt off with his finger and
clamps the wrench on number five. Sweat
pours down his face.
Steve leans forward and falls toward Seaman Tate. Steve’s eyes roll back in his head. His face turns pale.
STEVE DREAM SEQUENCE
Steve sees a ghostly image of Leslie in a dark room, pounding
his chest, yelling at him to wake up.
Leslie puts her lips to his mouth.
BACK TO CHINCOTEAGUE DECK – PRESENT DAY
Agent Riker kneels beside Steve’s body, pinching his nose;
blowing in his mouth.
Steve pops his eyes open and coughs. He inhales a shallow breath and stares beyond
Agent Riker helps Steve to an upright position. Seaman Tate looks over her shoulder.
Take a deep
Steve looks around,
dazed and confused from his brush with death.
You just stepped out for a second.
You’re all right.
OFFICER’s QUARTERS – NIGHT
Agent Smythe leans back in a swivel chair bolted to the
floor. Across from him, Agent Riker
holds a brown accordion folder. Steve
enters wearing Navy sweats.
You got a
Steve faces Agent Riker.
wanted that yacht
at the bottom
of the sea.
Guard’s sending a
team. They’ll be here
that leave us?
returns at 0800.
We’ll be in
Cozumel by dawn.
Any word on
Agent Smythe shakes his head.
Agent Riker hands Steve the accordion file. Inside, a butterfly clip holds several black
and white mug shots. Steve thumbs
through the photos.
Our greatest hits collection.
two of the men
those photos have connections
to this man.
Agent Smythe displays a mug shot of Victor Mendoza.
Steve glances at the photo.
Oh my God…
START OF FLASHBACK
Steve recalls Victor’s face during his family’s dive
trip. He recalls the tattooed forearms
of an eagle clutching a trident as Victor slaps Sarah on the shoulder.
BACK TO PRESENT DAY
You all right?
Steve points to Victor’s photo.
I’ve seen this man before.
On the dive boat at the Presidente
day my wife and daughter disappeared.
recognize this man?
Steve shakes his head.
Who is he?
Arellano Mendoza, a Cuban
from Miami. Served four
years as enlisted Navy before
applying for special forces training
with the SEALS. He blew a gasket
during BUDS and killed his drill
instructor. Served two years in
Leavenworth before escaping. He
killed two guards in the process.
That was nine months ago.
an anonymous caller
a Miami Coast Guard patrol
Mendoza’s involvement in a
tracked Mendoza to Curacao and
where a family disappeared
Agent Smythe blows smoke through his nose.
killed a female Agent
time we get close to him he
through our fingers like the wind
INT. FBI APARTMENT, SAN MIGUEL – NIGHT
Steve peers through a window overlooking the Caribbean. His face is drawn; his eyes sunken and
pinched from lack of sleep. Agent Smythe
wasting time. Every minute
here and do nothing puts
wife and daughter in greater jeopardy.
If we go in
with guns blazing and
Mendoza isn’t there, we’ll tip
So now what? We sit here and
sing Kum bi ya?
We’ve had the phone lines tapped.
There’s 24-7 video surveillance
throughout the resort. If Mendoza
or his men were there, we would
have seen them by now.
And what if they’ve already left?
What if they’ve taken my wife and
daughter with them?
Agent Riker enters the room with her cell phone. She nods to Agent Smythe.
got a call from Lieutenant
Mierez. One of his men found
a floater near the northern tip
outside the Puntas Molas lighthouse.
How long ago?
About an hour.
Male or female?
Agent Smythe grabs
his Glock from the table and tucks it down the back of his shorts. Steve wipes his hand through his hair.
This can’t be happening.
Call Mierez back. Tell him we’re
on our way.
INT. WOODEN STORAGE SHED – NIGHT
Sarah stands up and feels along the wall for a light
switch. Confused and disoriented, she
flicks on the single bulb dangling above her and finds Natalie Johnston curled
in a corner.
Who are you?
Natalie pulls away, shielding her face with her hands. Her shirt is soaked in sweat.
Where are we?
Sarah moves to the boarded window hammered shut with
16-penny nails. She touches the nail
heads and looks around the empty storage shed for something to pry with.
We have to get
out of here.
They’ll find us.
Not if I can help it.
INT. POLICE HEADQUARTERS, SAN MIGUEL – NIGHT
Steve follows Lieutenant Mierez along a narrow hallway with
Agent Smythe and Agent Riker at his side.
The four descend a flight of stairs to —
Steve, Smythe, Riker, and Mierez stand over the body on a
gurney covered with a plastic tarp.
Smythe and Riker cover their mouths with their hands. Mierez pulls a handkerchief from his pocket.
Let’s do it.
Lieutenant Mierez pulls the tarp back to reveal a white,
bloated body with a severed arm and substantial flesh wounds to the torso.
Agent Smythe turns his head and gags. He blows chunks. Intestinal fluids hit the floor with a WET
(mumbling through the handkerchief)
recognize this person?
Steve steps around the body.
Agent Smythe leaves the morgue. Steve follows.
To check on
EXT. PUNTAS MOLAS
LIGHTHOUSE – NIGHT
outside the lighthouse foundation. He
finds an entrance blocked with an iron gate secured with a chain and lock. He shines the light on a wooden plaque
hanging from the chain. Waves SPLASH
against the rocky shoreline.
INSERT – STEVE
READS THE WOODEN PLAQUE
Peligro – No
BACK TO SCENE
Steve backs away
from the locked gate and proceeds around the other side. He stops in his tracks and looks down at his
feet. At his ankles, a nearly invisible
length of fishing twine stretches across the ground, reverberating like a
plucked guitar string. He follows the
line with the flashlight beam. The line
ends at a claymore mine embedded in the ground.
He SLOWLY retreats
and finds another path to follow, one embedded with deep tire tracks in marshy
soil. He pans the flashlight beam along
the ground and discovers a piece of broken plastic partially buried in the
dirt. He inspects the broken plastic and
wipes a clear spot to reveal the remnants of an orange Tic-Tac case.
INT. LIEUTENANT MIEREZ’s OFFICE – NIGHT
Lieutenant Mierez takes a long drag from his cigarette and
blows smoke at an out-of-balance ceiling fan.
Sweat beads on his forehead.
Across the room, Agent Riker scribbles on a notepad.
Any verdict on
the cause of death?
Agent Smythe enters the room and shakes a cigarette from his
soft pack. When his cell phone rings, he
puts it to his ear and frowns.
AFIS came back with a hit on
DOA’s prints. A woman named
Johnston. She took a
eighteen years ago for
an officer at a pro life demonstration.
Smythe puts a
cigarette between his lips.
I’ll check the airlines and the hotel
If the Johnstons came to
Cozumel recently, Mendoza might still
be in town.
I’ll check their bank records for
Lieutenant Mierez paces by his desk.
Let me know
what you find. The life
man’s family may depend
INT. SEA-NOTE STARBOARD CABIN – NIGHT
The whine from an outboard motor fades against the sound of
waves lapping the hull. Leslie pulls on
the ropes around her wrists and creates enough slack in the lines to free one
hand. Her wrists bleed from the effort,
but she manages to untie herself and leave the cabin confines.
OUTSIDE THE CABIN
Leslie presses her ear to the adjacent wall. Hearing nothing, she moves through the
companionway toward —
THE MAIN SALON
Leslie enters —
She sees the outline of an inflatable yacht tender heading
for shore with two men on board. She
reads the navigation chart on the plotting table. Belize is circled in red marker.
She takes the VHF radio from the helm and keys the
mayday mayday! Request
STATIC CRACKLES from the speaker.
COAST GUARD (VO)
This is the
United States Coast
Guard. Please identify…
Leslie keys the mic.
You have to help me. I’ve been
COAST GUARD (VO)
The speaker starts to BUZZ and WHINE as Leslie adjusts the
COAST GUARD (VO)
dinghy circles back, Leslie abandons the radio and rummages through a
toolbox. She retrieves a monkey wrench
and SMASHES the dashboard and navigation monitors. Sparks
fly with pieces of broken glass and plastic.
OUTSIDE THE HELM STATION
A two-cycle outboard drones louder as Leslie creeps along
the gunwale opposite the approaching boat.
She climbs over the bow rail and drops to the water feet first. She side-strokes to —
THE SWIM PLATFORM
She hides underneath, waiting for the men to return.
Victor and Damon reach the Sea-Note and tie off. They jump aboard the yacht with guns drawn.
Check the cabin.
BENEATH THE SWIM PLATFORM
Leslie quietly leaves the confines of her hiding space and
pulls herself inside the dinghy. She
unties the line and drifts away before she yanks the starter cord.
Damon exits —
He skirts along the gunwale toward the stern.
Damon fires at Leslie in the dark.
BACK AT THE YACHT TENDER
Leslie cranks the handlebar throttle wide open, forcing the
bow to rise abruptly as the small inflatable heads for shore.
Gun shots echo
across the water. The outboard sputters
and dies. Ducking for cover, Leslie
yanks the starter cord repeatedly. When
the motor won’t start, she notices the fuel valve TURNED TO THE OFF POSITION. She adjusts the valve and pulls the starter
cord until the engine comes alive.
Leslie crouches in
the small inflatable, facing forward with one arm bracing an oar lock. The boat dips sharply as Victor launches
himself on board like a monster from the deep.
INT. CHAMBERS’ SUITE
A startled maid
screams when Steve enters his hotel suite.
What are you doing?
The maid jumps away
from the dresser. Clothes are strewn
about the floor.
Lo siento, senor. Lo siento.
Habla usted ingles?
His Spanish accent resounds like a
Chinese tenor with a head cold.
The maid keeps her head down and
advances toward the door. Steve blocks her path.
What are you looking for?
He points to Leslie’s clothes.
Dejeme ir, por favor!
maid thrashes when he tries to grab her arms.
Please…Senor…If they find me…
El faro. Bad things happen there.
The house with light.
Are my wife and
The maid shakes her
head and flails her arms. Agitated to
the point of hysteria, she breaks free and bolts for the stairwell outside.
Steve chases her to
the hallway where he hears a loud scream followed by a sickening THUMP. He rounds the corner by the elevators and
finds the maid’s apron caught in the walkway banister.
He leans over the
railing and sees the women’s body lying face down; her arms and legs skewed at
Randy emerges from
Randy peers over
the guardrail as Lieutenant Mierez approaches with two armed officers.
Steve darts inside
the stairwell and runs down. The
officers give chase.
INT. WOODEN STORAGE SHED – NIGHT
Using a flat head screw driver, Sarah pries a nail loose
from the boarded window. She works her
fingers between the plywood and the window.
Shouting erupts from outside the
room. A burly man with a grizzly beard and an UZI
Get away from the window!
Sarah drops the screwdriver.
Natalie runs for the corner.
INT. CARGO VAN – NIGHT
Sarah and Natalie crouch toward the back of the cargo van as
the sliding door SLAMS SHUT. Their hands
are tied. Duct tape covers their mouths.
FURTHER DOWN THE ROAD
The driver steers with one hand on the wheel and the other
holding the UZI. His unfastened shoulder
belt clangs against the door frame.
Branches scrape the van’s roof and side view mirrors as Sarah reaches
for the sliding door. When the driver
glances in the rear view mirror, Sarah withdraws her attempt. Natalie mouths the word no.
INT. FBI APARTMENT, SAN MIGUEL – NIGHT
Agent Smythe lights a match and holds it at the end of his
cigarette. Agent Riker looks on
If you light
up one more time in
you’ll be smoking that
Agent Smythe fans the air with the match to extinguish the
in your Wheaties?
He takes a notepad from his shirt pocket and flips it open.
I pulled the
hotel registry from
the Presidente Suites and found
a record for Marvin and Pamela
They checked out two days ago – with
two adult children.
But we’ve only got one body.
I also checked the Johnston’s bank
records. Two days ago, Pamela
withdrew $800,000 from her
Maybe she wanted to disappear?
husband? A chance for
I’ve seen it
Her husband owns a bank. If she
needed money, she could have
taken it at any time.
think Mendoza’s men
It fits the
Agent Smythe pulls the slide on his Glock and grabs a map
from the table.
and tell him to
Agent Smythe heads for the door.
To play a
hunch. I’ll be back
INT. CARGO VAN – NIGHT
Gravel PINGS inside the van’s wheel wells as the rusted
Dodge 250 starts down a gravel road.
When the driver’s cell phone rings, he pulls the phone from his shirt
pocket and answers.
Sarah glances at Natalie.
Natalie inches closer to the sliding door.
Sarah lunges for the handle and pulls it down. The door slides open to reveal an endless
wall of jungle brush whirring by in a blur.
The driver taps the brakes and waves the UZI at the girls who both jump
out and bounce violently like a pair of crash test dummies.
Up ahead, brake lights illuminate the darkness before the
back-up lights engage and the van accelerates in reverse.
The driver jumps out and surveys the landscape. He plunges toward the jungle, spraying the
UZI in the girls’ direction. The clamor
of RAPID GUNFIRE echoes through the trees.
A flock of blue warblers SQUAWK in
CHINCOTEAGUE WHEELHOUSE – NIGHT
glow illuminates from the radar screen where Captain Peters stands at the helm
beside the radio officer. A torrential
downpour pounds the glass in front of him.
A constant hum reverberates in the background.
Any word from our mayday caller?
Keep at it. I want to know the minute
we pinpoint the signal’s location.
EXT. PIER AT
PRESIDENTE SUITES – NIGHT
Agent Smythe creeps through the bushes along the deserted
path leading to the Divers’ Paradise.
Top 40 music plays from the tiki bar.
A young couple strolls hand in hand on the beach, oblivious to Smythe’s
INSIDE THE DIVERS’ PARADISE
Smythe shines his pen light in the cabin and climbs —
He finds a pump-out head and a locked storage compartment.
He picks the lock and opens the lid to find a broken spear gun and several life
jackets. A hidden panel
reveals a machete.
Smythe squirts the blade with Luminal and observes the lime green color
indicating the presence of blood.
He wraps the machete in a rag and climbs —
A shadowy figure jumps him from behind.
EXT. FBI APARTMENT, SAN MIGUEL – NIGHT
Steve arrives to find the door unlocked. He enters.
He moves toward
the back of the room and hears the clack-clack-clack from a length of spinning
audiotape slapping the empty spool on a reel-to-reel recorder. A video monitor shows the image of his Jeep
parked outside. A wisp
of steam rises from the contents of a Styrofoam cup.
Agent Smythe? Agent Riker?
He follows the hallway to the darkened bedroom where the
emerald eyes of a cube-shaped alarm clock flash the time at 5:15 a.m. A cockroach scampers up the wall. The bathroom faucet drips.
Standing over an open suitcase on the bed, he pokes at the
folded shirts and women’s underwear packed beside a romance novel and a .22
caliber semi-auto Beretta Bobcat. He
palms the tiny gun as Agent Riker appears.
you’re looking for?
I found this
at Puntas Molas…
Steve presents the orange Tic-Tac case. Agent Riker steps toward him and cocks her
What is it?
I found this
container at the Puntas
lighthouse. My wife eats these
get in here?
The door was
Steve moves away from the suitcase toward the light seeping
in from the hall.
He went out
for a smoke.
It looks like
we may have
wife and daughter.
Steve blinks. He clears his throat before he speaks.
an hour ago.
Are they all
They’ve been detained.
Steve glances at the video surveillance camera and sees
Victor drive up in a Nissan taxi with a gold chain license plate cover. Steve points the Beretta at Agent Riker.
fuck is going on?
think you know the answer
Riker pulls her Glock from her hip holster and aims at
Put it down.
Riker advances. Steve
pulls the trigger twice and hears CLICK CLICK as the Bobcat’s firing pin
strikes an empty chamber.
Riker nods her head toward the door when Victor enters the
have let you die on
Why didn’t you?
EXT. SEA-NOTE BOW –
Victor pours gasoline on the bow as the Cuban’s Donzi
approaches from the watery horizon.