M I L L E N N I U M IT... HAS... BEGUN... NOTHING IS FORSAKEN... Virtual Season Episode #411. "Rapture" (1/2) written by: Dan Owen TEASER EXT. BALTIMORE-WASHINGTON INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT - NIGHT A large PASSENGER JET is seen slowly gliding into the night sky, with a ROAR of turbine engines. Legend INDICATES: Baltimore-Washington International Airport 10:45 PM In front of the building, a small bus (like a prison bus) SCREECHES up into a parking space, and the ENGINE cuts quickly. Inside, a lot of people can be seen sitting, but not in great detail. INT. DEPARTURE LOUNGE - AIRPORT - NIGHT Dozens of PEOPLE fill the entire area; most waiting for flights, some asleep in chairs, others talking to airport STAFF, etc. Our attention is drawn to one man in particular, RICHARD GRAVES - late-30's, graying hair, small glasses, wearing a suit and carrying a black briefcase. Graves is standing, reading the 'Departure Timetable Board' which shows the nightly flight listings. He reads one line in particular: 'WASHINGTON D.C. - NEW YORK CITY FLIGHT 320 - NOW DEPARTING - GATE 6' He checks his watch's time, and hurries away down the lounge. EXT. GEORGE WASHINGTON UNIVERSITY HOSPITAL - NIGHT An AMBULANCE is parked outside, and a few members of the public are seen walking in and out of the building. Legend INDICATES: George Washington University Hospital Washington, D.C. 10:57 PM INT. MATERNITY WARD - GEORGE WASHINGTON UNIVERSITY HOSPITAL - NIGHT A NURSE enters with a new-born baby, wrapped in a cloth, and places it gently inside a crib. She considers the child a second, smiling, before walking away. We PULL BACK to reveal there are six babies in cribs, all neatly spaced out in rows. Fast asleep. EXT. BALTIMORE-WASHINGTON INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT - NIGHT The small bus is parked in the car lot, lights off and the DRIVER not visible. The passengers are no longer inside. INT. SMALL BUS - NIGHT The Driver is seen from the back, as he raises his arm and glances at his watch. The time reads: '10:56'. INT. PASSENGER JET - NIGHT PEOPLE are now boarding the plane, all looking like middle-aged businessmen, judging from the amount of suits and ties. A few FLIGHT ATTENDANTS casually weave through the crowd, putting people at ease and being asked questions. Richard Graves is already sitting at a window seat, his briefcase on his lap. He's nervously glancing around, watching the commotion. EXT. BALTIMORE-WASHINGTON INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT - NIGHT The huge passenger jet is being directed down the runway by a MAN waving two luminous batons. INT. PASSENGER JET - NIGHT Graves is looking out the window, visible beads of sweat around his face. FEMALE VOICE (O.C.) First time, sir? Graves turns to see a Flight Attendant, JANE HYAMS, smiling at him from the aisle. GRAVES Uh, yes. Kind of. JANE There's really nothing to worry about nowadays, it's-- GRAVES --safer than crossing the street. Yes, I've heard. JANE (smiles) I know it's a cliché, but who cares so long as it's true, right? Graves nods, forcing a smile. JANE (CONT'D) (smiles again) Just get some rest, it's not a long flight anyway. You'll be there before you know it. GRAVES "In the twinkling of an eye?" JANE (laughs) Almost. She smiles once more, before moving off down the aisle. Graves watches her go, then stares down at his briefcase. EXT. BALTIMORE-WASHINGTON INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT - NIGHT Flight 320 THUNDERS into the air, soaring up into the clouds. INT. GEORGE WASHINGTON UNIVERSITY HOSPITAL - NIGHT The Nurse is chaperoning a smiling mother (MRS.. DRAKE) see her sleeping child. NURSE #2 They're absolutely adorable when they're asleep. INT. PASSENGER JET - NIGHT (LATER) It's much quieter here, too. People have relaxed, some even asleep. Legend INDICATES: 11:13 PM Graves has his eyes closed, and his head resting backward in his reclined seat. But not asleep. He takes a deep breath and turns to see a PASSENGER parallel to him. The passenger smiles nervously, and Graves smiles back. Jane walks past him carrying a half-eaten tray of food. She disappears behind a red curtain. INT. CREW CABIN - NIGHT Jane is tipping a tray's uneaten food into a waste disposal unit, and puts the dirty tray next to a small sink. JANE Another meal wasted. And when I think of the starving kids in Africa... A male Flight Attendant, MICHAEL, enters the cabin. He's overheard Jane: MICHAEL Maybe if in-flight food didn't taste like crap, they'd eat it. Jane CHUCKLES to herself, then checks the time on her watch. INT. COCKPIT - NIGHT The PILOT, CO-PILOT and COMMUNICATIONS OFFICER are all seated inside, working. The large windshield at the nose of the plane is pure black in color, except for stars. The cockpit door opens and Jane enters with three trays of food, stacked expertly. JANE Hi! COMM OFFICER Hey, right on time. The Comm Officer is given his tray, which he places on a space at his workstation. Jane heads to the front with the remaining trays. The Pilot puts the plane on autopilot and turns to accept his supper. PILOT Thanks, Jane. JANE How's it going up here? CO-PILOT You know, same old thing. PILOT There's the threat of a localized storm up ahead; shouldn't be a problem, though. JANE Right, I'll warn some of the passengers to expect some turbulence - you know how they get when the shakes start. CO-PILOT (chuckles) Okay. As Jane turns to leave -- FLASH! -- the whole cockpit is bathed in a bright, blue-white light for a split-second. INT. MATERNITY WARD - NIGHT HOLD ON the rows of baby cribs. Suddenly, the fluorescent lights in the room BLINK off, plunging the room into total darkness. INT. COCKPIT - NIGHT The Pilot is steadily driving, craning to see out his window. CO-PILOT That storm must have rolled in closer than we thought. PILOT (to Jane, smiles) Nothin' to worry about. INT. CREW CABIN - NIGHT Michael is washing up the plastic trays, oblivious to the flash of light due to there being now windows. Jane re-enters from the cockpit. JANE We may get some turbulence soon. A storm's coming. MICHAEL Huh! What's new? Jane heads back to the passenger section. INT. PASSENGER JET - NIGHT The red curtains SWISH open and Jane enters the passenger area. Her readied look of professional chirpiness vanishes, as she stops in her tracks. Stunned, eyes wide in disbelief. JANE Oh... Oh, my God... The passenger section is empty! Everyone has vanished! All there is to see are row upon row of empty seats. Jane rushes up the aisle, glancing behind the seats. JANE Michael! Michael, quick! Come here! EXT. HOSPITAL CORRIDOR - NIGHT Darkness for a second, before the fluorescent lights in the corridor blind back on. The Nurse leads Mrs. Drake up to the glass partition in the wall. The sound of a low THUNDERSTORM outside. NURSE Hmm, storm must have knocked out the lights. They both stare into pure darkness through the glass. MRS. DRAKE Is this the right room? NURSE Uh... perhaps a bulb went. Wait here. The Nurse opens the door to the dark room and steps inside. INT. DARKENED ROOM - NIGHT Using the light from the corridor, the Nurse reaches for the light switch and tries it. To her surprise the fluorescent lights BLINK on again. Perfectly normally. The Nurse glances at Mrs. Drake through the glass; and is surprised to see her mouth wide open. NURSE (concerned) Mrs. Drake? Mrs. Drake snaps a confused stare to her. The Nurse turns to see the cribs. They're all empty! She rushes up the small aisles, glancing in each crib. Nothing. INT. PASSENGER JET - NIGHT As Jane SHOUTS, Michael rushes up to her - stopping in his tracks as she did. Stunned. We SLOWLY PAN ACROSS to Richard Graves's window seat - his briefcase resting on the upholstery. HOLD ON the mysterious briefcase, abandoned on Graves's empty seat... FADE OUT. ACT ONE BLACK. "In a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump: for the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed." -- I Corinthians 15:52 FADE IN: INT. FOREST - DAY We're flying over the canopy of a tall and expansive green forest. MALE VOICE (V.O.) Seventeen, thirteen... omega... eight, eleven... gammma. EXT. RYAN'S HOUSE - DAY A quaint suburban home, complete with adjoining garage and well-maintained front lawn. Legend INDICATES: Frost Residence Baltimore, Maryland 8:13 AM A clock alarm breaks the morning silence, RINGING incessantly. INT. RYAN'S BEDROOM - NIGHT A white-walled room, littered with yesterday's clothes. A double-bed dominates the room, and inside sleep TWO FIGURES. The source of the RINGING is an alarm, reading '8:14 AM'. FEMALE VOICE (muffled) Oh, please... please, stop that. A MALE HAND reaches out of the covers and presses the 'SNOOZE' button with a precision gained through practice. RYAN FROST lets out a deep MOAN of annoyance as he heaves himself out of bed, then sit on the edge rubbing his eyes. A morning stubble peppers his chin, and his hair is messy. Behind him, the slender figure of his fiancé - CINDY MILTON, early-30's with sandy-colored hair - is partially visible. CINDY Do you have to go...? RYAN 'Fraid so, they don't pay me for oversleeping. Cindy sits up on her arm, resting on the pillow. Her left hand rubs Ryan's lower-back. CINDY I thought being a private investigator meant you *wouldn't* have to work nine to five. Ryan turns to face Cindy, holding her left hand, then kissing it. RYAN It does. But I want to work. I need the routine, you know that. I'm not much good at sleeping past half eight, anyway. CINDY (flirtatiously) You wouldn't be sleeping. Ryan smiles, but before he can say anything -- the clock alarm starts RINGING again. Ryan stands quicker, and turns it off completely. RYAN See? Even God wants me to work. Cindy collapses back onto her pillow and throws the covers completely over herself. EXT. BALTIMORE-WASHINGTON INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT - DAY Enormous planes slowly taxi along the tarmac, with the huge concrete airport in the b.g. FLIGHT 320 is parked away from the other planes, its landing gantry leading down to a sea of waiting REPORTERS and PHOTOGRAPHERS. They are safely stood behind a metal barrier, guarded by AIRPORT SECURITY GUARDS. A REPORTER is standing, with Flight 320 in the b.g., over his right shoulder. He's giving a monologue to camera: REPORTER This is the scene almost ten hours after Flight 320 to New York City, landed at Washington-Baltimore Airport. MATCH CUT TO: INT. LIVING ROOM - BLACK RESIDENCE - DAY CLOSE ON - A TELEVISION showing the exact same reporter, but now with company logos and a legend in the corner reading: '28 Passengers Vanish From Passenger Flight 320' REPORTER (CONT'D) Flight 320 left the runway with a manifest of thirty-three people. But when it landed... inexplicably, only five people - all crewmembers - disembarked. The question on everyone's lips is "where are all the missing passengers?" And it's a question *nobody* has come forward to answer, not even the FAA. As the Reporter continues talking, we PULL BACK to reveal FRANK BLACK seated on the sofa with JORDAN in his arms, both watching the TV. JORDAN Where d'you think they all went? FRANK I don't know. They'll figure it out, don't worry. Frank smiles as TOM BLACK quickly enters the room, dressed in a suit, and grabs some keys from the coffee table. TOM Don't want to be late. (remembers something) Oh, Frank, you still house-hunting this morning? FRANK I think so, yeah. There are a few houses and apartments in the paper. TOM Okay. Hope you find something. FRANK Me too. TOM (smiles briefly) Bye, Jordan. JORDAN Bye! Tom leaves quickly, closing the door. A moment's silence, before-- JORDAN Apartments? FRANK You never know when we might move again. Jordan GIGGLES. Frank hugs her closer, then his attention is grabbed again by THE TELEVISION which now shows a close-up view of the Forensic Science Unit disembarking the plane. MATCH CUT TO: EXT. BALTIMORE-WASHINGTON INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT - DAY The FSU team reach the bottom of the gantry and begin walking away, their photos being snapped by dozens of PHOTOGRAPHERS. As they walk away, questions are being thrown to them: REPORTER #1 Did you find any bodies? REPORTER #2 Is it true the cabin depressurized during the flight? REPORTER #3 What can you tell the families of the missing people? The FSU team ignore all questions, walking blankly ahead with their equipment. As the cameras continue to FLASH, we notice one man in the crowd - silent, watching. It's BLAYLOCK. He watches the FSU team pass. EXT. BALTIMORE CITY STREET - DAY Ryan Frost's car is driving down the road to an intersection. INT. RYAN'S CAR - DAY The radio is on, which Ryan is listening to as he pulls to a stop at some traffic lights. RADIO ANNOUNCER (V.O.) --a quite unheard of occurrence, Vince. I don't think anything like that has *ever* happened - not that I've heard of anyway. I mean, a whole *plane* full of people just vanish? Who can the police point the finger at? RYAN Try David Copperfield. Ryan puts the car in gear, and drives off. EXT. LIVING ROOM - BLACK RESIDENCE - DAY HELEN BLACK is setting out some toys for CHARLIE to play with on the living room floor. She's "baby talking" to her son, smiling. The television is still on, playing continued coverage of the Flight 320 mystery. Frank enters the room with the morning's mail, leafing through the letters. Helen notices. HELEN Anything for me? FRANK Just bills. HELEN Must be that time of the year. Helen stands up, facing Frank. HELEN (CONT'D) Tom said you were going house-hunting again this morning. FRANK Yeah, I'll take Jordan - see what she thinks. HELEN Good. That's good. I-I don't mean to be rude, and it's not that I want to get rid of you, or anything, but... a little girl like Jordan needs her stability. Make sure this is the last move? FRANK I *hope* it is. I read that moving house is the second most stressful thing in the world. Both smile, but then Frank's smile fades, he turns quiet. FRANK (CONT'D) And we've both already faced number one. Helen falls silent, too, chewing her tongue. HELEN Well, stability's what she needs. I hope you find somewhere nice. Frank feigns a smile, hoping so too. INT. DARKROOM Darkness. A small room, with bare, black-painted walls. Just a table and two chairs for furniture. TWO MEN are seated opposite each other on the chairs. One man, DR. HILTON is seated with a clipboard and pen. The other man - only known as RECEIVER for the moment - is reclined slightly. His eyes are closed in meditation and he breathes slowly, with a pencil in his hand. On the table between them are a stack of blank papers. DR. HILTON Four, nineteen... thirteen... six... beta. RECEIVER Brown, like a, like mud... legs, arms... (grimaces) ... a helmet, tall incline... DR. HILTON Draw it. The Receiver opens his eyes and begins sketching a drawing onto the paper. INT. RYAN'S CAR - DAY Ryan is driving still. His car-phone RINGS, so he presses a button which connects the call through his stereo system. RYAN Ryan Frost. HART'S VOICE Hey, heard the news? RYAN The Knicks win, right? HART'S VOICE All over the national news now. Flight 320? RYAN Oh yeah, the missing people. HART'S VOICE Yeah, listen, we're helping the FAA with their enquiries. I think I got some kinda lead here. Can you come in? Ryan thinks, not sure... HART'S VOICE (CONT'D) Hey, c'mon, it's important. RYAN Yeah, yeah, I'll be there. HART'S VOICE It'll be worth it. Ryan nods as Hart hangs up. INT. DEBRIEFING ROOM - BALTIMORE PD - DAY DETECTIVE HART is speaking to a room of eleven POLICE OFFICERS. He's stood in front of a white-board where 29 names have been written in red ink. Stood at the back, arms folded is Ryan. HART These are the missing people. All twenty-nine, but we're having trouble tracking their names down right now. RYAN I don't see the point. The case is closed. Those people vanished at 35,000 feet above land. Now, unless they were all prone to Lemming-like behavior and bailed out through the airlock, I don't know where they've gone. HART Ah, but the interesting thing is this: the only "survivors" of Flight 320 were the cabin crew. Eight of them. *They* all landed safely... (a beat) ... so they're all prime suspects, since we only have their word that these people "disappeared" at all. POLICE OFFICER #1 The pilot informed Washington Control Tower at 11:18 PM. HART Yeah, to report the disappearance. But the plane didn't touch down till 11:32, and emergency services didn't arrive to check the plane till 11:34. RYAN Giving the cabin crew sixteen minutes to somehow transport 29 people off a passenger jet and... go where? HART (shrugs) I dunno. RYAN Why would they want to do that? It makes no sense. POLICE OFFICER #2 Yeah, what they shoulda done was fake a hijacking and flown the plane somewhere remote. Then get rid of the passengers, claim they were taken, and then start sending each relative a ransom note. HART Well, they didn't. Ryan is shaking his head. RYAN It's too ill-conceived. HART Everything has to make sense - people don't just *disappear* into thin air! Ryan walks slowly up to the white-board, reading the names. RYAN Let's get Frank Black in on this. Hart SIGHS deeply. HART What is it with you? Have you taken it upon yourself to resurrect his career? That guy should be sitting at home jiggling grandchildren on his knee, telling them stories about the good ol' Bureau days. We don't need him here. Ryan turns slowly to face Hart. RYAN Trust me, you need him. His career record speaks for itself. HART First thing's first - I want all you guys to try and track down the missing passenger's families, and begin enquiries. See if there's some kind of link. (a beat) I'll be interviewing the cabin crew. That's it. Dismissed. The police officers file out. Ryan lingers behind. RYAN You need him. HART Yeah, like I needed him with that multiple murder case? He found us four dead bodies -- whoopee. Did he find the culprit? No. Just spouted a load of deranged conspiracy babble. Ryan rubs his nose a second, grimacing to himself - then finally looks up at Hart. Hart is staring straight back at Ryan, who realizes it's no use. RYAN Okay, have it your way. Hart remains stoic. Ryan leaves. CAMERA MOVES over the shoulder of Hart and towards the whiteboard where one name comes into focus: Richard Graves INT. LIVING ROOM - DRAKE RESIDENCE - DAY (PRESENT DAY) The Drake family are sitting together; MR. DRAKE, Mrs. Drake, and their teenage daughter ELLIE DRAKE. They're being questioned by EMMA HOLLIS and KEN McGREEVEY. The atmosphere is tense. EMMA I'd just like to let reassure you that everything's being done to safely return your son, Mrs. Drake. MR. DRAKE I thought the hospitals had security measures these days. McGREEVEY They do. You can't enter that wing of the hospital without I.D., and there's always someone on duty at the desk. That should make it very easy to track down the abductor. MRS. DRAKE (to Ellie) I just want my baby back. Now. Uncomfortable silence as the inappropriate comment lingers in the air. EMMA I know. The fact so many babies were taken in such a short space of time is a good clue. It means we're likely looking for more than one person. ELLIE Don't they have, like, security cameras, or something? McGREEVEY (nods) Yes. We're reviewing those right now. We should be able to get detailed descriptions of the felons, so this should all be over within hours - days at the most. MR. DRAKE Thank you. I-I just hope we can put this all behind us soon... and look to the future. (hugs his wife) As a family. Emma gives them a reassuring look. INT. AIRPORT HANGAR #3 - DAY CLOSE ON - GRAVES'S BRIEFCASE which is engraved with a small name-plate; reading Dr. RICHARD GRAVES. The handcuff is still gripped to the handle. WIDER hundreds of personal effects from the missing passengers have been laid out on carpets and marked with tags. AIRPORT STAFF are milling about, as are PHOTOGRAPHERS and POLICE. At the opening of the hangar is a makeshift checkpoint, where two GUARDS are allowing only authorized people in to survey the belongings. Blaylock appears and walks nonchalantly to GUARD #1, and flashes an I.D. badge of some type. He's carrying a similar black briefcase to Graves's. The two men talk for a few seconds, before Blaylock is allowed through. Slowly, Blaylock moves towards the red-carpet area - his eyes wandering over the luggage. He sees Graves's briefcase and crosses over to it. Casually, he bends down as if to tie his shoelace and places his own briefcase on the carpet next to Graves's. As he stands up, he takes Graves's case and casually walks the other way. The switch made. FADE OUT. ACT TWO FADE IN: INT. BRITISH TRENCH - NIGHT A deep, dirty, mud-filled pit running along the Western Front for miles. Curled BARBED WIRE at the top, failing to protect four British Soldiers (MICKEY, DAVID and EDWARD PRINCETON), leaning over with machine-guns aimed across 'No Man's Land'. Legend INDICATES: British Trench The Western Front France, 1916 High in the sky comes the SOUND of falling bombs, while the 'RAT-A-TAT' of gunfire lights the cold French sky. Unearthly SCREAMS rise from the trenches. A scene of Hell on Earth. RAT-A-TAT-A-TAT-A! Mud and debris is blasted into the air as Mickey is struck in the head by a German gunner's bullet! He falls backward and SPLASHES into the mud! DAVID Damn! They got Mickey! EDWARD Keep firin'! The two friends continue FIRING with renewed, savage, vigor. Suddenly a WHISTLING can be heard, getting closer. A falling grenade. Both hear it approaching... EDWARD GET DOWN!!! ... and both dive for cover on the muddy floor. The grenade hits the trench and EXPLODES! Both men are thrown in opposite directions through the air, smacking into the trench walls! Half-silence. Edward comes to his senses, turning round on the floor and crawling to his fallen comrade. He heaves David's body around, revealing the man's silent death-scream; eyes wide, face bloodied, teeth exposed in a grimace. Yet strangely peaceful. Edward starts SOBBING slowly to himself, turning away from the ghastly sight. Then... a white light begins to GROW in front of him. Expecting a bomb, the Soldier shields his face. But nothing. The light continues to grow. Edward uncovers his face and stares up at the light source. A WHITE FIGURE can be seen standing a few feet away. It's very plainly a man, with a serene expression, wearing a suit and glowing slightly. Its appearance is extremely similar to the 'Receiver' from earlier. WHITE FIGURE It's okay, you'll be fine... just keep your head down... Edward is astonished; his mouth wide. The vision disappears instantly, sending the trench back into darkness. SOUND returns louder than ever, as a grenade lands behind him. Edward sees it and begins scrambling across the muddy trench floor, almost crying, keeping his head down, and PANTING in fear. EXT. BRITISH TRENCH - NIGHT The grenade EXPLODES, showering dirt up into the air and destroying a portion of barbed wire! Comparative silence now... as the distant RAT-A-TAT of gunfire continues unabated. EXT. SUBURBAN HOME - DAY A small house not entirely dissimilar to the Yellow House, but light blue in color and much older. Frank stands hand-in-hand with his daughter, with an ESTATE AGENT behind them. FRANK (down to Jordan) What do you think? JORDAN It's okay, but I don't like the color. FRANK (smiles) You know how to paint, don't you? Jordan smiles slightly, but looks unsure. INT. SUBURBAN HOME - LIVING ROOM - DAY An empty room, with some furniture covered in sheets. There are no carpets and parts of the wall are peeling away. An ESTATE AGENT is showing Frank and Jordan around with eager professionalism. ESTATE AGENT There are three bedrooms, one bathroom, a small study, attic, basement, kitchen, dining room... FRANK It sounds great. Frank kneels next to Jordan. FRANK (whispers into her ear) So...? JORDAN (whispers back) I think a bad thing happened here. Frank is, quite rightly, thrown by her matter-of-fact response. He stands. FRANK (to Jordan) Stay here a sec, okay? Jordan nods, as Frank moves off and talks with the Estate Agent privately. The Agent is smiling, expecting a sell. ESTATE AGENT Questions? FRANK Yeah, uh... what can you tell me about the history? ESTATE AGENT History? Frank nods. The Agent looks flummoxed, then glances at a clipboard. ESTATE AGENT (CONT'D) Um, the whole block was built in 1944, first owned by-- FRANK No, that's not what I meant. Has anyone ever died in this apartment? ESTATE AGENT Died. Frank nods. ESTATE AGENT (CONT'D) Possibly. The house *is* a half a century old and it's only natural that people... decease. FRANK What were the circumstances? The Agent SIGHS, realizing he's fighting a losing battle. ESTATE AGENT There, uh, was an "incident" a few years ago. 1994. An elderly man, uh, committed suicide. In the bath tub. Frank SIGHS, displeased. ESTATE AGENT (hurriedly) But it happened five *years* ago, so-- Frank stops the Agent's banter with a stern look, his mind wrestling for the right phrase to use... FRANK My daughter and I are very... sensitive people. The Agent looks puzzled. Frank is already walking away. FRANK Come on, Jordan. Jordan skips over and takes her father's hand. They both leave the startled Agent standing alone in the room. INT. FRANK'S JEEP - NIGHT Frank is driving, with Jordan in the back. Frank turns the radio on: RADIO ANNOUNCER --in fact 'Missing People' seems to be the "new craze", as it were. Both the Washington and Baltimore Police Departments are reporting an increase in reported cases of 'missing' family members. Although the police *are* believed to think this is just hysteria over last night's Flight 320 incident, and urge people to wait the required 24 hours before lodging a report with them. As Frank drives, listening to the radio: FRANK'S INTERNAL POV -- Flight 320 taking off from the airport. -- Graves's nervous face, sweaty. -- A 'prison bus' SCREECHING into the airport car lot! -- The sound of a lamb BLEATING. -- A blue-white FLASH of light! He SIGHS quietly to himself, forcing his concentration back to the road. INT. INTERROGATION ROOM - BALTIMORE PD - DAY Ryan sits with Hart, both interviewing Jane Hyams (the Attendant from the Teaser). A cassette-machine is recording the interview. Jane looks shaky and bewildered. JANE We checked everywhere, that's what I don't understand! *Twenty-nine* people, detective. Gone. RYAN How long were you out of the passenger section? JANE I went to empty some in-flight meal trays, and give the cockpit crew their dinner. Three or four minutes tops. HART So who was in the passenger section while you were out? JANE It's a domestic flight, late at night, no children there. I know it's not technically by-the-book, but... it's quite usual for there to be no attendants in that section for short periods of time. RYAN Could the passengers have jumped? JANE It takes some skill to open the hatch - which was locked anyway. I-I don't see *why* people would jump out. If they did they'd be committing suicide - freezing to death almost instantly. We *were* 35,000 feet over Virginia, Mr.. Frost. Ryan nods - he knows this, too - and shoots a "told you so" glance to Hart. Hart presses on: HART Could they have... hidden somewhere? Perhaps escaping after the plane had landed. JANE No. No, we checked everywhere. HART Everywhere? The plane had started its descent by this time. Didn't you have to strap yourself in for that? JANE Uh, yes. Yeah we did. HART So you didn't have time to check *everywhere* while in the air? JANE Well... no, I guess not. We didn't check the, uh, cargo holds. That's a big undertaking and almost impossible from the inside. But the airport emergency services checked there when we landed. RYAN Ms. Hyams, I think what Detective Hart is getting at is this: is it at all possible that the passengers *hid* in the cargo hold, then escaped in luggage soon after? Jane scoffs, smiling beside herself. JANE That's impossible! They'd need a key to open the floor panels, not to mention large containers to hide in, or something. RYAN (nods) Okay, thanks for your help. You're free to go. Jane nods to them both in turn, getting up and leaving. HART (into cassette-recorder) Interview with Ms. Jane Hyams ends-- (glances at watch) --at 12:18 PM. Subject has left the room. Ryan switches the recorder off, SIGHING. RYAN I told you. It's just impossible. In under five minutes there's no way in hell these people could have staged any sort of hoax. HART If they did - it's the hoax of the century! RYAN Ms. Hyams gives the best account. Nobody else had much contact with the passengers prior to their disappearance. Hart reclines in his chair, SIGHING deeply. Annoyed. HART Yeah. I'll be damned if I can figure it out. I want to see the plane for myself. RYAN I don't see why you're holding back on this - get Frank Black in. Whatever your opinions are of him, it's a fact he has "hunches" that generally close cases. He's one of the most requested ex-profilers in the last 15 years. Hart rubs his face, knowing he'll never get any peace otherwise. HART Okay, okay, you win. Anything to shut you up. Give him a call and I'll meet you both down the airport. Ryan eagerly gets up and leaves. Hart takes a deep BREATH of fatigue, not relishing this case one bit. EXT. BLACK RESIDENCE - DAY Frank's jeep pulls into the driveway and parks. The ENGINE cuts to a rumble, then silence. INT. FRANK'S JEEP - DAY Frank takes out his ignition key, and picks up a newspaper from the passenger seat. It's opened at a page that lists vacant premises in the area. Three are circled, but two have been crossed over. Frank picks up a pen from the dashboard and crosses the last advert. JORDAN Will Uncle Tom mind us staying longer? FRANK (a beat) No, I don't think so. But we can't stay here forever. We'll find somewhere, don't worry. Jordan nods, undoing her seatbelt. Frank gets out of the car. EXT. BLACK RESIDENCE - DAY Frank opens Jordan's door and she leaps out. Frank's cell phone begins RINGING in his pocket. FRANK (to Jordan) Go inside, I'll be there in a sec. Jordan leaves, and Frank answers his call. FRANK (CONT'D) Frank Black. RYAN'S VOICE Hey, Frank, it's Ryan. FRANK What's up? INT. RYAN'S CAR - DAY Ryan is driving hands-free again, his call being transferred through his stereo-speakers. RYAN Heard the news about the missing people on the plane? INTERCUT BETWEEN SCENES: Frank looks up suddenly, sensing the onset of his visions: FRANK'S INTERNAL POV -- Flight 320 taking off from a runway. -- A blue-white FLASH of light! -- The sound of a lamb BLEATING. -- Empty passenger seats. Frank remains silent. RYAN'S VOICE Frank? FRANK Yeah, I heard. You want me to get down there? RYAN Meet me in the airport foyer when you can, we got access to the passenger section since the FSU went home empty-handed. FRANK'S VOICE Okay. Bye. Ryan presses a button on his dashboard, disconnecting the call. EXT. THE ELDER'S RESIDENCE - DAY A large and expensive-looking house, situated in a very luxurious road. The residence has a gravel driveway, and a black iron gate. A black LEXUS pulls to a stop outside the gate, and the dark-tinted driver's window rolls down. Blaylock leans out and speaks into a speaker-panel fixed to a gate pillar. BLAYLOCK This is who we are. A light turns GREEN on the panel, and the iron gate begins to pull open automatically. Blaylock winds his window up and the Lexus drives inside. The gates begin to close behind him. ACROSS THE STREET a gray car is parked parallel to The Elder's residence. Inside, only a DARK FIGURE can be seen. Watching the house. This is MR. CAIN. He has a small device in his hand which he's aiming at the house through his window. Small headphones travels up to his ears. He presses a few buttons. CLOSE ON - CAIN'S EAR listening to the headphones: BLAYLOCK'S VOICE (a recording) This is who we are. INT. STUDY - THE ELDER'S RESIDENCE - DAY Blaylock is standing opposite THE ELDER's desk, hands behind his back. The Elder has Graves's briefcase on his desk, which remains unopened. THE ELDER Did you have any problems? BLAYLOCK No. The fake I.D. worked, and the switch was easy enough. THE ELDER And the combination? BLAYLOCK Four-eight-three, nine-six-two. The Elder nods, very pleased. THE ELDER Good. Any more successes like this, and you could be looking at promotion. Blaylock takes pride in himself, but hardly shows it; remaining rigid and obedient. THE ELDER (CONT'D) I assume you haven't opened the case yourself? BLAYLOCK No, sir. THE ELDER (nodding thoughtfully) So rare to have someone I trust so implicitly. Thank you. Be sure to close the door on your way out. Blaylock nods, turns on his heels and marches out of the door. The Elder waits for the THUD of the door, before directing his attention back to the briefcase. THE BRIEFCASE'S LOCKS The Elder's thumb rolls the combination numbers; '4-8-3' and '9-6-2'. CLICK-CLACK! CLICK-CLACK! The briefcase pops ajar. The Elder relishes the moment. EXT. BALTIMORE-WASHINGTON INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT - DAY Frank and Ryan are walking together across the runway. In the b.g., luggage trolleys are being driven by, and MEN IN BOILER SUITS are working. Legend INDICATES: 1:43 PM Frank is shielding his hair from the billowing wind. The sound of plane TURBINE ENGINES in the distance. RYAN They're trying to play down the whole event, but the truth is nobody can figure it out. It all defies rational thinking. FRANK Perhaps just an open mind is needed. They reach Flight 320's landing gantry and begin climbing the metal steps to the main hatch. INT. PASSENGER SECTION - FLIGHT 320 - DAY It's much calmer inside, as Frank and Ryan enter the warm passenger jet. Frank stands, looking around. Some FSU PHOTOGRAPHERS are still present taking snapshots, but a small crowd of people are gathered on the far side of the plane - their backs turned. RYAN Come on. Ryan leads Frank over to the small crowd of men; one of whom turns round to face them - Detective Hart. HART (to Ryan) 'Bout time you showed up. FRANK Detective. Hart eyes Frank quickly, grudgingly. HART Mr.. Black. RYAN Found something? Hart parts, allowing Frank and Ryan to see through. The men are gathered around a circular window, some taking photos. RYAN I don't see anything. HART On the window; some kind of marking drawn on the glass. Frank takes the initiative and steps forward, leaning over the seats towards the window. THE WINDOW GLASS shows a faint outline of an elliptical symbol. Difficult to properly see; it's just been idly drawn by hand. Frank can't discern much - he stands back up. FRANK It seems to have been drawn by hand, using a finger. Very faint. HART Probably nothin', just seemed the *only* out of place thing. Everything else is a hundred percent normal. FSU MAN (O.C.) Detective. Hart turns to see a FSU MAN hand him a sheet of paper on a clipboard. Hart's eyes widen. HART Oh. So that's it. RYAN What? Ryan turns the clipboard round to show Frank and Ryan; it's the familiar "eye hieroglyph" Frank has seen many times before - an ellipse with a circle in the center. Frank looks stunned. It can't be coincidence... FADE OUT. ACT THREE FADE IN: INT. CONFERENCE ROOM - WASHINGTON PD - DAY Emma and McGreevey are reviewing a security tape. A man named JIM CARTER is inserting the cassette into a VCR. Washington Police Department Conference Room 2:18 PM McGREEVEY So who did you find? Jim SIGHS, turning in his seat. JIM Not quite as simple as that. EMMA Disguises? JIM No - see for yourself. Jim PLAYS the cassette. THE MONITOR displays a high-angle view of the hospital corridor, with the glass partition visible on the top-right of the screen. JIM (O.C.) Nothing much happens, but then... The screen goes black. Jim turns to face his colleagues. EMMA The tape ran out? JIM Nope. And the camera was fine. The lights just... went off. Most likely due to that localized storm last night. McGREEVEY Don't hospitals have backup generators to cover that? JIM Yeah, although lights aren't a priority along hallways. Still, the generator kicked in one minute later. But the baby room's light stayed off. Jim fast-forwards the tape, then stops. Immediately, the lights come on in the corridor - but the glass partition has gone black, with no light from inside that room. McGREEVEY I don't get it. The hospital didn't report a glitch in power. Could the abductors steal *all* those babies under cover of darkness? EMMA They couldn't smuggle them past the front desk. Nobody saw anyone go in or out all night, except for authorized medical staff. McGREEVEY Maybe it's a nurse we should be after. Or a doctor. EMMA Maybe. They're quite skilled to be able to knock off the lights to a specific corridor. What could do that? McGREEVEY Are there any sounds on the tape? JIM (shakes his head) It's black-and-white visual only. Palmer chews his tongue, thinking. INT. DARKROOM The small, dark, room has not changed. Dr. Hilton is hunched over the table, sifting through dozens of sheets of paper. The Receiver is no longer reclined in his chair, but drawing feverishly; a well-oiled machine. Dr. Hilton smiles at the artwork his colleague is creating - each piece of paper has various pictures; amongst them: -- A barbed wire fence -- A soldier holding a machine-gun -- A bird's-eye-view of a battle ground -- A beach filled with running soldiers and one image we instantly remember: -- A frighteningly accurate picture of the death-screaming soldier, killed by a grenade earlier (in 1916). The Receiver is continuing his drawings, his fine-tipped pen squeaking across A4 sheets at lightning speed. Like a man possessed. INT. COCKPIT - FLIGHT 320 - DAY Frank's search of the plane has brought him to the nerve-center - the large cockpit, crammed full of equipment. Ryan is right behind him, marveling. RYAN Wow. I remember wanting to be a pilot when I was nine. My granddad had all kinds of aviation memorabilia from the '20s and '30s. The Golden Age of Aviation. As Ryan continues to drool over the surroundings, Frank methodically runs his fingers across the equipment - attempting to pick up "vibes". As he reaches the Pilot's chair. FRANK'S INTERNAL POV -- The Pilot putting Flight 320 into autopilot. -- A FLASH of blue-white light through the cockpit's windshield! Frank turns to face Ryan. FRANK Did they run into a storm? RYAN Kind of. One was predicted, but didn't pass into their flight lane. I think they got a few lightning flashes, or something. Frank furrows his brow, turning away from Ryan and thinking. FRANK'S INTERNAL POV -- The 'prison bus' SCREECHING to a halt! -- Graves; sweating nervously. -- A finger drawing on the glass of a window. -- A blue-white FLASH of light! -- The sound of babies CRYING, mixed with BLEATS of a lamb! Frank quickly turns back and rushes past Ryan, who reacts in astonishment. INT. PASSENGER SECTION - DAY The area is almost deserted, save for a few FAA TEAM MEMBERS guarding the hatch, and Detective Hart. Frank marches up to him, and indicates the far-seat with the "eye hieroglyph" on the window. FRANK Did you find out who was sitting in that seat? HART Yeah, here... Hart passes him a clipboard from a nearby seat. It has a thick, fan-folded piece of paper stuffed under the clip: a list of typed names. HART (CONT'D, O.C.) Seat forty-three, row five. Frank's finger scans down to row '5:43', which shows the occupant as: 'DR. GRAVES, RICHARD JAMES' FRANK Dr. Richard Graves drew this on the window during the flight. HART Uh-huh. We're checking his background right now, but I don't-- FRANK He was carrying something valuable inside a briefcase. Hart exchanges a fleeting glance with Ryan - and is surprised to see Ryan acting deadly serious. HART You're both crazy with a capital 'K'. FRANK I know you don't have faith in my ability, detective. That doesn't matter. I'm not seeking your approval, or your gratitude. I just want to solve this. FEMALE VOICE (O.C.) "Behold, I show you a mystery." Only Frank seems to hear the female voice. He turns round to see a BLONDE WOMAN; thin, mid-20's, with piercing blue eyes. She's dressed in casual, light-colored clothes. Behind Frank, Hart and Ryan are watching Frank's strange behavior. Frank regards the Blonde Woman before him. She smiles sweetly at Frank, as he cocks his head to one side, intrigued and enraptured. RYAN Frank? Frank glances to Ryan, then back to the Blonde Woman - but she's vanished. HART (impatient) Mr.. Black! Frank snaps back to Hart, who slams the clipboard into his chest. Frank takes it. HART And you wonder why I lack faith in you? (to himself) Jeez... Hart leaves. Ryan chews his tongue, shaking his head. RYAN It's his way. Just have to ride it out. Frank isn't listening. He stares at the spot where the Blonde Woman appeared, jaw slightly open. Mind working. INT. RYAN'S STUDY - DAY CLOSE ON - COMPUTER MONITOR somebody types 'behold, I show you a mystery' in a search-field on a site called "Biblical Quotes". RYAN (O.C.) Are you sure about this? WIDER Ryan is the one typing, with Frank seated beside him. The room is quite bright and sophisticated. FRANK I recognized the phrase from somewhere. Ryan hits RETURN. RYAN Y'know, it *could* be from a poem, or a play... Frank isn't listening, he urges Ryan to concentrate with a gesture as the page displays a paragraph of biblical text - the words: '98% match' flashing. RYAN Oh, here; Corinthians I, Chapter 15, Verse 54. CLOSE ON - COMPUTER MONITOR the quote is being read aloud, by Frank. FRANK (O.C.) "Behold, I show you a mystery; We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump: for the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed. CINDY (O.C.) The Rapture. WIDER Frank turns to see Ryan's girlfriend, Cindy Milton, in the doorway. She smiles as Frank stands, then leans forward to shake hands. CINDY Hi, I'm Cindy. Cindy Milton. You must be the illustrious Frank Black. Ryan stands too. RYAN Cindy's my, uh-- CINDY Lover. Ryan turns a little embarrassed, while Cindy doesn't bat an eyelid. Frank is just amused. CINDY (CONT'D) (to Frank) Pleased to meet you. FRANK You too. I'm afraid Ryan didn't mention he-- CINDY (interrupting) No. (sarcastically) He likes to keep me secret. FRANK (indicates the monitor) You know this passage? CINDY Oh, sure, I have a photographic memory, actually. Like I said, it's The Rapture: the time when God, uh... removes His Church supernaturally from the Earth. People are meant to disappear, basically. Called up to the clouds to meet with the Lord. Frank is stunned, exchanging a look of shock with Ryan. CINDY (CONT'D) You learn a lot in Sunday school, plus my granddad was a Minister. Why? FRANK We're investigating the missing passengers of Flight 320. CINDY (chuckles) Oh, yeah, the thing on the news. Well, you must be mistaken somehow. This *can't* be The Rapture, because that's prophesized as some *seriously* large-scale event. Christians receiving "resurrection bodies", or something? Anyway, it's a big deal, I know that. RYAN So it wouldn't be localized to just three dozen people on a plane? CINDY (shakes her head) I don't think so, no. Frank SIGHS, turning back to the monitor. EXT. THE ELDER'S RESIDENCE - DAY The Elder is walking to Blaylock's waiting black Lexus, carrying Graves's briefcase. Legend INDICATES: Washington, D.C. 4:12 PM He opens the back-door and hops inside quickly. INT. BLACK LEXUS - DAY The black-tinted partition separates The Elder from the driver's section. The Elder places the briefcase on the seat beside him. THE ELDER The airport, please. The Elder reclines in his seat, weary. His eyes fall on the briefcase again and wanders into deep thought. DRIVER SECTION the Driver, wearing dark gloves, starts the ENGINE and steers the car away. His face never visible. INT. DARKROOM Dr. Hilton has piles of A4 paper neatly placed on the desk, which he is idly leafing through. Impressed. The Receiver is seated in his chair, tired and rubbing his wrist. DR. HILTON Very good, seven-eighteen. The Receiver (now known as 718) doesn't answer. He stands, SCRAPING his chair on the floor. 718 Can I go now, Dr. Hilton? DR. HILTON I think you've given me enough to work through, so... yes. 718's expression clearly shows he hates this "teacher/student" obedience which is expected, and quickly leaves. Dr. Hilton watches him all the way, until the door closes. INT. UNDETERMINED BUILDING - DAY 718 is standing outside the dark room's door. He takes a deep BREATH, very obviously tired from his ordeal. As he walks O.C., a marking on the door is now visible: A flat, metallic image of an "eye hieroglyph", nailed to the wooden door. FADE OUT. ACT FOUR FADE IN: INT. GLASS CONSERVATORY - BLACK RESIDENCE - NIGHT Jordan has Charlie sitting on her knee, playing with some toys. Helen enters the conservatory with a book. HELEN You two okay in here? JORDAN He's still dribbling. HELEN (laughs) I remember you dribbling when you were two years old. JORDAN (smiles) I did not! HELEN I'm sure even your dad did when he was younger. Just ask him. Jordan LAUGHS, and places Charlie to one side. HELEN (CONT'D) Charlie seems to enjoy having a "big sister" to play with. Jordan turns silent and watches Helen sit down in a small chair, opening her book. JORDAN Do you like having us here? Helen puts her book down. HELEN Of course we do! We really enjoy having you here, Jordan. (smiles) You know you're both welcome here for as long as you want. Jordan smiles and continues playing with Charlie. Helen returns to her reading, but her eye wanders back to Jordan and she considers her thoughtfully. INT. STUDY - RYAN'S HOUSE - DAY Cindy is standing behind Frank and Ryan. Ryan still TAPS on his keyboard. RYAN Hmm, the Missing Persons List hasn't changed much. FRANK A full day hasn't passed, so nobody can legally be put on the list yet. We'll have to check back tonight. But if this Rapture theory's true, we can expect a significant rise in missing people. CINDY Local radio keeps mentioning people reporting family members missing. A kind of hysteria. Frank nods. Ryan turns round on his seat to face them both. RYAN I don't buy this "Rapture" idea, Frank. It's too wild. I mean, if *every* Christian is supposed to be transported to Heaven like that-- (clicks fingers) --people would notice. It wouldn't be centered on one plane. FRANK (nods) We need an expert. EXT. COMMUNITY CENTER - DAY A low, but long building, used by the community for various purposes. Today it seems empty, except for one rusted car. A sticker on the rear-window reads: "When The Rapture Comes, Nobody's Driving". INT. COMMUNITY CENTER - DAY GIDEON SAINT, a well-dressed man in his early-40's, is stacking some Bibles in small pigeon-holes by the side of the main door. The front door opens and Frank enters, with Ryan following close behind. Gideon stands to see Frank, then notices Ryan. GIDEON (not looking up) Our session doesn't begin for another half hour. FRANK Gideon Saint? Gideon looks up and smiles when he sees his two new arrivals. GIDEON Yes, that's me. FRANK My name's Frank Black, this is Ryan Frost, we're investigating a case. We were wondering if you could help us both. Gideon looks intrigued. INT. COMMUNITY CENTER - DAY (LATER) Gideon is standing on a low platform with Frank and Ryan, holding a large copy of The Bible at, open at 'Corinthians I'. GIDEON Here we are; the most prominent book on The Rapture - Corinthians I. (to Frank and Ryan) Now, there are opposing views, but the majority of scholars think that we're all living in what's known as the Church Age. The Rapture is believed to end this Age; and begin a seven year period known as the Great Tribulation. The Second Coming of Christ supposedly occurs on the last day of the Tribulation period, and He will then usher in a millennia reign of peace to all mankind. (a beat) The story is peppered throughout The Bible. Apparently *dead* Christians are taken first... He turns the page to Thessalonians I. GIDEON (CONT'D) Thessalonians I, 4:16: "For the Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God: and the dead in Christ shall rise first." (a beat) 4:16 continues with the living's transportation: "Then we which are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air: and so shall we ever be with the Lord." FRANK In the clouds - the air. Gideon closes his Bible. GIDEON The Rapture was promised to the world by Jesus *himself*, just before he was crucified. Therefore, myself and the people I preach to believe it as the truth. Would the Messiah lie to us? RYAN But here's the $65,000 question: do you think it happened last night? Gideon pauses, his beliefs in question. He considers this deeply. GIDEON *If* it did, it wasn't the awe-inspiring and undeniable event I have assumed would take place. However, some say only innocents will be taken, others think just 144,000 people will vanish. It's all open for debate. (a beat) But if the Rapture *has* happened... besides my disappointment... I'm also scared. FRANK Scared? GIDEON If The Rapture is real, then it's only logical the Great Tribulation is real. Which means we have seven years of global unrest to look forward to. Uncomfortable silence for a beat. FRANK (nodding) You've been very helpful, thank you. Gideon nods his acknowledgement to Frank and Ryan as they step down from the altar. Gideon's finger moves to the front cover of his large Bible... and he traces along the cross-shape on its leather cover. GIDEON "In the twinkling of an eye." INT. CONFERENCE ROOM - NIGHT The room is long, spacious and contains minimal decoration; just an oval-shaped table. One man sits at the head - MR. EPSTEIN (mid-50's). Five other people sit around the table, facing him - MR. VICKERS (mid-30's), MR. SMITH (late-30's), MR. JENKINS (mid-40's), MS. CARLTON (mid-30's) and MS. TURCO (early-30's). Everyone looks deadly serious. Sitting in silence. There's a KNOCK at the door. MR. EPSTEIN Come in. The door opens and Dr. Hilton enters with a large, thick, folder under his arm. MR. EPSTEIN Dr. Hilton, thank you for joining us. We're all very eager to hear your results. We could do with some good news after yesterday's losses. Hilton sits in a ready seat; away from Epstein and his cohorts. He opens the folder, ready. MR. EPSTEIN Well, did you bring the results? DR. HILTON Yes, Mr. Epstein, I have. They're all beyond our expectations. MR. EPSTEIN Excellent. Elaborate. DR. HILTON Project Blueflame has been running for just five weeks, but already the results from the seven chosen subjects have been *outstanding*. The sheer *level* of clarity has-- MR. EPSTEIN May we see your findings for ourselves? Hilton nods quickly, instantly standing to dish out his folder's materials - sheets of A4 paper. The gathered committee pass them along until everyone has in their hands at least three varying pictures. The pictures are similar to the ones we saw Receiver drawing earlier. Mr. Epstein smiles as he glances through his papers, admiring the detail of the various scenes: -- A German World War II tank -- A factory building on fire -- A bush fire -- A dead soldier in a Western Front trench -- A Vietnamese jungle scene MR. EPSTEIN Magnificent... DR. HILTON Subject 718 has always been a gifted artist, so his images are clearly the best. MR. EPSTEIN Incredibly vivid. Mr. Jenkins doesn't look impressed. He pushes his own papers to one side. MR. JENKINS I can turn on 'The Discovery Channel' and see this stuff. DR. HILTON Uh, yes, yes you can. This is merely a taster. I have documented information that proves Subject 718 "interacted" with something. MR. EPSTEIN Interacted? DR. HILTON During an "ether trip" he actually made contact with someone he was viewing. MR. EPSTEIN What d'you mean? DR. HILTON A British soldier by the name of Edward Princeton. In France, 1916. The Western Front. MS CARLTON 718 *spoke* to this soldier? DR. HILTON (nods) Yes, and the soldier made eye-contact. Actually saw him. MR. EPSTEIN That's never happened before. DR. HILTON After the session I traced Private Edward Princeton down. It was absolutely amazing. He survived the attack on his trench that 718 witnessed, suffering the loss of his right leg after a grenade attack. He was taken off the front-line and flown back to England, where he lived for a further seven years before emigrating to America in 1924. MR. EPSTEIN So how did you-- DR. HILTON This, sir. Hilton brings out a thick book, entitled "LIFE IN WAR" by G. D. Princeton. He turns the book round to show the author's face on the back cover: a much older-looking Edward, from earlier. The gathered people in the room are now MUTTERING to each other. DR. HILTON A book by Edward Princeton, written in 1955. In it he bases an entire chapter on his vision of an Angel. A "supernatural being" that saved his life by warning him of an incoming grenade. He attributes the loss of his leg as a reminder that God spared his life that day. This "miracle", as he describes it, changed the course of his life. He became a member of the Salvation Army in 1918 and has been involved in charity work ever since. His brief description of this "angelic figure" even matches Subject 718's appearance. MS CARLTON (skeptically) How *could* it be 718? The ether is not a two-way medium. DR. HILTON It seems strong evidence suggests otherwise. Mr. Epstein sits in silence, collecting his thoughts. His gaze rests on the A4 sheets he holds in his hand again. The one of the bush fire - showing tall trees and a field ablaze, with emergency services in the f.g. MATCH CUT TO: CLOSE ON - TELEVISION which shows a forest fire, being battled by emergency services. The woodland and a surrounding field are blazing out of control. WIDER INT. LIVING ROOM - BLACK RESIDENCE - DAY Tom is back from work, and sitting on his sofa with Helen - who has Charlie on her lap. Jordan is on the floor with a drawing book. Tom picks up the remote from the chair-arm and changes the channel. TOM When did Frank say he'll be back? HELEN He didn't. Don't worry, he'll ring. He always does. Tom notices Jordan, drawing. He sits forward. TOM What you doing there? Jordan turns round, looking a little agitated. JORDAN Math. TOM Oh. Need any help? Jordan shakes her head, and turns to her book again. Tom looks a little disappointed, but reclines back in his chair. TOM Well, okay. If you get stuck, you only have to say. Jordan doesn't answer. We ZOOM IN on her work, creeping closer to her drawing book. She's writing numbers on the page - but there's no discernible mathematical connection between each digit: '16 18 8' INT. McCLAREN'S OFFICE - DAY ANDY McCLAREN is speaking with KEN McGREEVEY and EMMA HOLLIS, all acting very concerned. McCLAREN So, basically, what you're saying is it's a dead-end? McGREEVEY At first glance the case seemed strange, yes, but approachable. But all avenues of enquiry have come to nothing, sir. EMMA The babies that were stolen have simply disappeared. Every family of a missing child is in no way dysfunctional; ruling out domestic problems, like a father's vendetta. McCLAREN What about bogus medical staff? McGREEVEY The five nurses who had clearance for that area have all checked out. I don't think it was any of them. They all have their own children and come from stable homes. McClaren takes a long, drawn out, SIGH. McCLAREN So what can we do? EMMA The Millennium Group may be able to help. They have a good track record when it comes to abducted children. McCLAREN (shaking his head) Why would anyone take those babies? *One* I could understand; a grieving mother, jealous father... But *all* of them? Doesn't make sense to me. McGREEVEY It's possible whoever took them plan to sell the babies - to couples unable to legally or physically have children of their own; homosexuals, transsexuals, women with a medical problem... McCLAREN I'll give the Group a call - see what they think. Emma and McGreevey nod their agreement. McCLAREN (CONT'D) Dismissed. McClaren watches the two Agents leave his office. INT. AIRPORT HANGAR #3 - AIRPORT - DAY Hart, Ryan and Frank are gathered in the immense hangar. The passengers of Flight 320's luggage are still on red carpets. Most unclaimed. The three men are walking together. Hart is looking at the drawn "eye hieroglyph" on a sheet of paper. HART Okay, this is our best lead so far? An Egyptian eye hieroglyphic. And you still think that means a possible occult explanation to the disappearances. RYAN We believe the people aboard Flight 320 *knew* they were going to disappear. Staged it somehow. FRANK Faking a Christian event known as The Rapture. HART Yeah, yeah, you said. But, even if you're right, we only know *why* they all disappeared. The *how*, even if we accept it was faked, is still unknown. Frank is growing increasingly annoyed. It seems the case is just too overwhelming and unexplainable. FRANK (tapping the paper) I've seen this before. It's an ancient symbol with many meanings; the most popular being various connotations of a psychic gift; soothsayers, clairvoyants, mind-readers... (bear) Last year, the FBI investigated a case where blonde-haired women were being murdered. Each of them were remote viewers; they had the ability to "see" wherever they wanted to see; unrestricted by space and time. Hart is shaking his head, grimacing and SIGHING. HART Psychics? Do you go out of your way to confuse things, Mr. Black? Hart stops, bends down and picks up a briefcase from the floor - the one Blaylock left. HART (CONT'D) This is it. Dr. Graves's briefcase. FRANK Can you open it for me? Hart sets it down on the floor, and all three kneel around it. HART Ah, damn - combination lock. Frank reaches across and - "click-clack, click-clack" - opens the briefcase's lock. Hart looks confused, but gently opens the briefcase, slowly at first, but then just throws it open. Inside are four bricks. Ryan and Frank are a little surprised, but a cynical smile crosses Hart's face. HART (wryly) *Very* valuable cargo. RYAN It's been switched. What did he have inside that was so important? HART We've checked Graves's background. He was a doctor at the Society of Theosophical Science downtown. RYAN Theosophical Science? Hart shrugs. FRANK What did he discover there that makes him get on a late-night flight to New York? Nobody offers a reply. EXT. WASHINGTON STREET - NIGHT The Elder's black Lexus SPEEDS down the city street. INT. BLACK LEXUS - NIGHT The Elder is silent, leaning back in his seat and thinking. Deep in thought, listening to the DRONE of the car's engine. He checks his watch. THE ELDER We're not making good time. I need to *personally* be at our New York facility. This is very important for us, and the last flight leaves in five minutes. No reply. The Elder looks disgruntled. EXT. WASHINGTON INDUSTRIAL AREA - NIGHT The Lexus leaves a road and heads past a sign reading: WASHINGTON INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT 1 Mile The car heads down a different road. INT. BLACK LEXUS - NIGHT The Elder notices the sign through his window. He sits up and watches it sail past - confirming his suspicion. He taps on the black-tinted screen that separates him from his Driver. THE ELDER You've missed the turnoff! The airport's on the left - back there. No reply. Suddenly the door locks CLICK down - locking him inside. The Elder's face turns fearful. EXT. SECLUDED ROAD - NIGHT The Lexus swings into a secluded, small road and stops. The car's headlights are switched off. Tense silence. INT. BLACK LEXUS - NIGHT The Elder grabs the briefcase and with all the strength he can muster, he tries to smash the glass with its corner. CLUNK! The safety glass prevents damage. CLUNK! A second attempt is futile. The Elder sinks back in his seat, breathing erratically. THE ELDER Who are you?! Who do you work for?! EXT. SECLUDED ROAD - NIGHT An AVERAGE MAN, his features not visible, is walking briskly up the small road to the Lexus. INT. BLACK LEXUS - NIGHT CLOSE ON - A SPEAKERPHONE inside the passenger section of the Lexus crackles into life, and Mr. Cane speaks coolly to The Elder: MR. CAIN Good evening, Mr. Swanson. The Elder's mouth is open - the man knows his real name. MR. CAIN That's right, I know who you are. (a beat) Your time is at an end, I'm afraid. My superiors cannot condone competition in these matters - so your historic crusade must end. Tonight. FZZZZZ! The tinted partition begins to roll down. The Elder presses himself against the back of the chair, Graves's briefcase pressed to his chest. He swallows his fear. The partition has disappeared, revealing Mr. Cain properly. He turns in his seat, and aims a gun at The Elder's forehead. The Elder closes his eyes in fearful prayer, awaiting the inevitable. CUT TO BLACK. The sound of a GUNSHOT reverberates loudly! Legend INDICATES: TO BE CONTINUED... FADE OUT. THE END