Clean Sweep172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ87RpDCkKlY
Written by Ntando Dindili
HAVE A FIRST LOOK AT OMNI:CrossBadge now !!!!172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGdmYE1ALym
https://www.facebook.com/share/r/1Ao5stGfHR/172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3rxhew0j0f
Episode 1: "Clean Sweep"
EXT. WASHINGTON D.C. STREETS - NIGHT
A sleek black car races through the misty streets of Washington D.C., its headlights cutting through the fog like a knife.
INT. BLACK CAR - NIGHT
Inside the car, JAMES MELEN sits in the backseat, his face illuminated only by the faint glow of a phone in his hand. He's cold, calculating, his eyes sharp, scanning the information. The name at the top of the document makes his pulse quicken:
"OPERATION CLEAN SWEEP"
His hand grips the phone tightly. This isn't just another mission. This is something far bigger, something that could destroy everything he's worked for, and worse—the lives of the people he's trusted.
The car screeches to a halt in front of an anonymous building, and James steps out into the shadows, disappearing into the night.
FLASHBACK - 24 HOURS EARLIER
INT. LENA'S HOUSE – MORNING
Sunlight filters through the kitchen window. GRACE pours coffee. MIA (10) rushes in with her backpack. LENA is multitasking — burnt toast, phone ringing, work blouse half-buttoned.
GRACE172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡStpPSqWOpN
Sleep in again? You can't keep doing double shifts like this.
LENA (lightly lying)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ22JC3aZMDa
Audit week. You know banks.
MIA172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwdbvkRxAPX
Mom, look! I made this for your desk.
She hands Lena a small DIY craft, like a friendship bracelet she made herself. Lena swallows emotion. She hugs Mia tightly — too tightly.
LENA172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpDiIy96EIw
It's beautiful, Mia. Thank you.
Lena reaches into a small jewellery box on the table and pulls out a delicate necklace with a simple charm—a tiny silver heart. She kneels beside Mia and gently clasps the necklace around her daughter's neck.
LENA172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡInhTbT2o09
This belonged to my mother. Now it's yours. Keep it close, always.
Mia touches the charm, looking up with wide eyes.
MIA172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdrIUQBQSzi
I'll never take it off.
They share a quiet smile, a moment of peace and love.
EXT. STREET – DROP OFF
Lena kisses Mia goodbye at school. Mia waves from the gate. Grace drives off with the car. Lena watches a black sedan slowly pass behind her.
Paranoia? Or something real?
INT. OMNI HEADQUARTERS – MID-MORNING
This is no bank. Lena enters via biometric scan, walks past security into a sleek, sterile hallway. We pass signs like "Logistics – Level 4 Clearance Only" and "Financial Cover Ops – Internal Use."
She works behind a glass-walled office. Spreadsheets. Surveillance funding. Coded expenses. A co-worker whispers: "Did you hear about Oslo? Another one gone." She freezes.
INT. LENA'S OFFICE CUBICLE - DAY
LENA BROOKS, seated in her cubicle, types frantically into her computer. She's an analyst, tasked with sorting through hundreds of reports, tracking down potential threats. But today, there's something off.
As she sifts through data, a series of code words flash on her screen—something no one should be able to access. She leans forward, eyes narrowing. It's a cryptic message that catches her attention. She glances over her shoulder to make sure no one's watching. The words are clear, unmistakable:
"CLEAN SWEEP. TERMINATE ALL ASSETS. NO EXCEPTIONS."
Her heart races. This isn't part of any standard protocol. It's something far darker, a hidden order from the highest echelons of power. She knows what it means—agents, operatives, even allies, are going to be disposed of. And it includes James Melen. She's seen this kind of plan before—when an organization wants to erase its tracks, it cleans up everything. Including the agents who knew too much.
Lena grabs her phone, dialling James' number, voice trembling with urgency as she tries to get through to him, but the line cuts dead. She knows she's running out of time.
INT. SECURE STRATEGIC OPERATIONS ROOM – NIGHT
A vast, dimly lit room buried beneath an undisclosed location. A long metal table dominates the center, lit only by a single overhead strip light. Thick shadows obscure most of the faces.
At the head of the table sits THE COMMANDOR, a looming figure in a black suit. His face is veiled in shadow — unreadable, almost inhuman — backlit by a glowing digital wall map showing global surveillance data.
Around him sit four high-ranking officials:172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUBiYv2YAuT
• VERONICA HALE, CIA Director — calm, steel-eyed, flipping through a thick classified folder with surgical precision.172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡusVsK9JSzP
• SAMUEL RIGGS, FBI Director — posture tight, fingers drumming anxiously on the table.172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnNld517XHf
• NATHAN BACKETT, National Security Advisor — silent, hands folded, eyes fixed on a blinking threat matrix.172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSPSdpotPRM
• GENERAL ABRAM, military commander — arms crossed, unimpressed, his medals catching brief glints of light.
An EMPTY CHAIR sits at the far end of the table. Its absence speaks louder than words.
In the shadows stands AGENT ARMITAGE, the executioner-in-waiting. Near him is AGENT WEST, the cleaner. Focused. Calm. Dangerous.
The Commandor places a gloved hand on the table, silencing the room.
COMMANDOR172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3SKgBtoHfx
We've been compromised.172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9FYNNToy3O
(beat)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVlaAIwYZnT
There's no walking this back. Operation Clean Sweep goes live at midnight. Everyone connected to the project — agents, analysts, handlers — must be neutralized.172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6Q7jG7aAuw
(beat)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVyu6aclwBv
Erase the past. No loose ends.
A moment of stillness. No one speaks, but tension vibrates in the silence. Then:
AGENT WEST172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYEBNN8iJVH
Sir... one complication. Lena Brooks. She's seen the Clean Sweep protocol.
COMMANDOR172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoc67BN1ItR
Handle her. Quietly.172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡROxbo7Te25
(beat)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYjDA3yyr4W
Activate all dormant assets. Every cleaner, every ghost we burned into the system. Bring them online.
OPERATIVE #1 (from the shadows)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfn65po4M4s
Sir... that includes Tier-One analysts. Clearance level red.
COMMANDOR (coldly)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0ZluqeQ5Gu
No exceptions. If they ever saw the plan, they die.
OPERATIVE #2172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvk7UVu4Kx8
Execution protocols, sir?
COMMANDOR172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWaTEj2OO38
Fast. Silent. Final.
GENERAL ABRAM (gruffly)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5NDEzbFATc
This'll raise flags. Washington won't sit quietly.
COMMANDOR172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvZsAz1ZJJ6
They won't even know it happened.
RIGGS172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwSF6tO7KNH
What about the off-grid targets?
COMMANDOR172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTJHZvtIhvz
We've got eyes everywhere. No one's off-grid anymore.
VERONICA HALE (without looking up)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8YMUlWVLcI
We warned them. No attachments. No survivors.
The Commandor leans forward, his voice turning deadly calm.
COMMANDOR172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwHwAonhTaD
History is rewritten by survivors. We make sure no one survives.
The camera lingers on Agent West. His eyes flicker with anticipation. No remorse. Just purpose.
INT. JAMES'S APARTMENT – NIGHT
James paces restlessly, scanning the muted news on TV. City lights bleed in through the window blinds. His instincts are screaming — something's wrong.
He checks his phone again. No new calls. He dials Lena. Straight to voicemail.
He's about to redial when—172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcuW3QfDRIY
BUZZ. INCOMING CALL: LENA BROOKS
He answers instantly.
JAMES (into phone)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYbM28rBLtp
Lena. Where the hell have you been?
LENA (V.O.)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8gQTf9MgUg
James. Listen to me. Something's happening. They've activated Clean Sweep.
James freezes.
JAMES172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzji51gwtLl
Clean Sweep? That's not possible. That protocol was buried years ago.
LENA (V.O.)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLpMA99D8Lz
I thought so too. But it's live. I came across a file—buried deep—hidden behind a ghost redirect in an unrelated intel stream. I wasn't supposed to see it.
JAMES172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGzxrtMaW5L
What kind of file?
LENA (V.O.)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnpM1c7zFrN
An internal directive. Short, redacted. But clear enough. The words "Activate Clean Sweep"... and a list of names.
James stiffens.
JAMES172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdXWSh8lq49
Who signed the order?
LENA (V.O.)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8YLauCLsQF
That's the thing. It wasn't Voss.
JAMES172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡz0pMqVxjuh
What?
LENA (V.O.)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡliaxPxqtGh
The order came from someone called The Commander. No file trail, no ID match. Not even Voss's clearance could override it.
JAMES172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3JziSJMakJ
But Voss runs OMNI. You and I both report to him.
LENA (V.O.)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMPBZ2Sou4v
Exactly. That's what terrifies me. If he didn't issue it, someone above him did. Or outside the chain entirely.
JAMES172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRSODELDtOY
What about you? Are you on the list?
LENA (V.O.)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeQJUpzoXMC
Not as far as I could see. But I don't know how deep the list goes. And I don't know why they're doing this, James.
JAMES172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWRKCeEKsly
Where are you now?
LENA (V.O.)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbDEwZ9eeri
No. Don't come looking. I can't run — I have a family. I've got Mia. Burn everything. Go dark. Now.
A sudden burst of static. A glitch in the signal. James grips the phone tighter.
JAMES172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdLQ8y7Uo3t
Lena?
LENA (V.O.) (voice distorting)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡl0fv8NSgjo
They took control... Trust no one, James. Not even—
CLICK. The line goes dead.
James stands frozen, the dial tone buzzing in his ear. For the first time in years, he feels truly alone.
INT. DIMLY LIT ROOM - NIGHT
Agent West and Agent Armitage are preparing a grim task. The DIRECTOR speaks with cold precision.
COMMANDOR172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWpkwgPWr63
James Melen is a liability. He's the one agent who knows too much. We cannot afford a loose end. His death must be public—an accident. Make it convincing. The world must believe he's gone. I'll leave nothing to chance. And Lena—do not underestimate her. She has seen the threat. If she tries to reach him again, terminate her too.
AGENT ARMITAGE172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsgR57zOpVt
Understood, sir.
MONTAGE – CLEAN SWEEP IN MOTION
INT. SUBWAY STATION – NIGHT172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7wWnZAfUXs
A man in a grey suit waits alone on a dim platform. A woman with a stroller passes by. Just as the train screeches in — a gloved hand shoves him onto the tracks. Screams. The killer blends into the panicked crowd.
INT. APARTMENT – WASHINGTON D.C. – NIGHT172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnH04Ity0Uc
A former intelligence analyst in his 50s closes a file drawer, sipping whiskey. The place is modest but neat. Jazz hums from a vintage record player.172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXyr8XOZk5K
A KNOCK at the door. He peers through the peephole—sees a DELIVERY MAN. He opens the door—172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4wq6Ij9p9H
POW. A suppressed shot. Blood spatters the record spinning. The "delivery man" steps in calmly, closes the door behind him.
INT. UNDERGROUND PARKING LOT – SAN FRANCISCO – NIGHT172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFWvzMtcvgf
Dimly lit. A woman in a grey trench coat walks briskly toward her car, heels echoing. She fumbles for her keys.172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrJJSOCUYtV
VOICE (O.S.)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡR8TklsSp4C
You always said they'd come for us.172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzA8ni30hGp
She freezes. Looks behind her. A SHADOW emerges—tall, suited. No badge, no name.172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCD6UY3mDnc
WOMAN172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡt9PDs8hbwB
We did what they asked.172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNJPHOto1dv
MAN172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡr5uRgshPsx
And now they're tying loose ends.172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPCrHzBetUl
TWO SHOTS. She drops. The man walks past, disappears into the shadows.
INT. CAFE – BERLIN – NIGHT172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ26iqkCzBsI
An old man types on a laptop in a corner booth, glancing occasionally out the window. He has that trained awareness. A WAITRESS refills his cup. She's too polite. Too calm. He squints.172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡK2zMbI9cSb
OLD MAN172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIRtfdmCJlY
Langley didn't send you, did they?172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnJHagMLv8w
She leans in, her voice cold:172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvNH3pjwrUx
WAITRESS172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGiNdGzC7uB
No. OMNI did.172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoCnKNez4AY
She stabs him under the table. No scream. Just his cup tipping over, coffee spilling across the table as he slumps.
EXT. MOTEL – ARIZONA DESERT – NIGHT172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwY9kvYDMNm
A dusty parking lot. A man in his 40s, sunglasses at night, checks in at a shady motel. He tosses a duffel on the bed and opens a mini-fridge. The air conditioner hums. Suddenly — the bulb above him flickers and dies.172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6ximEFfHEr
CRASH. The window shatters — two masked figures burst in.172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7wgwK8ramX
MAN (yelling)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsWFoc2iOrL
Wait! I'm not even on the grid anymore!172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtqtDGNOaYs
No answer. They open fire. A quick, brutal exit. Silence.
INT. SUBWAY – LONDON – NIGHT172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRLf4pHKZFf
Crowded. A former field tech clutches a worn briefcase. Looks like just another commuter. Two men in suits board the train at separate doors. They don't acknowledge each other. The tech notices. His eyes dart. Too late. One of the suits brushes past and slips a needle into his side. His eyes roll back. He slumps in his seat — looks like a heart attack. The train keeps moving. The suits exit at the next stop.
EXT. HIGHWAY - NIGHT
A slick, black SUV tails a silver performance sedan at a cautious distance.
INT. SILVER SEDAN (MOVING) - NIGHT
JAMES MELEN drives with quiet intensity, eyes occasionally flicking to the rearview mirror. He notices the SUV behind him. No sudden reaction. Just a subtle tension building. He knew this moment was coming.
James passes a highway sign: "Last Gas for 50 Miles." He veers off.
EXT. ROADSIDE GAS STATION - NIGHT
The SUV parks at a nearby diner across the road. One AGENT stays inside, eyes on James.
James steps out of the car, calm and composed, walking into the gas station convenience store.
INT. GAS STATION STORE – NIGHT
The bell above the door chimes softly as James Melen steps inside. The fluorescent lights hum overhead. A bored CASHIER barely looks up from his phone.
James scans the aisles quickly — calm, deliberate. He makes his way down the back row, eyes skimming over dusty shelves until he spots what he needs:172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLMqTnGiYTQ
A folding utility knife in a plastic pack.172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqWEyERheAX
A pair of steel pliers, hanging beside it.172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDrBmXlWf3b
He grabs both without hesitation.
James grabs water and glances at the surveillance camera above. He notices it's unplugged. A chill runs through him.
Then he approaches the front counter, laying the items down.
JAMES (quietly, to the cashier)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTcjPNQMaeP
Mind if I use your bathroom?
The cashier shrugs, uninterested, and jerks a thumb toward the back.
CASHIER172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMrDeB0ePbE
Key's in the door. Just don't break nothing.
James nods. Takes the items, still unpaid, and walks toward the restroom.
EXT. GAS STATION - NIGHT
While James is inside, a second agent steps out of the SUV with a sleek black case. Moving fast. He crouches near the undercarriage of James's car — plants a device. Magnetic. Clean. Military-grade. He taps a remote: "ARMED - GPS TRIGGERED."
INT. SILVER SEDAN - NIGHT
James returns, starts the engine. A beat. He eyes the rearview again. The SUV doesn't move. He drives off.
EXT. MOUNTAIN BRIDGE - NIGHT
James speeds along the isolated bridge. Wind howls. Ocean below.
In the shadowy SUV parked far off-road, the agent taps the remote: "DET - INITIATED."
EXT. BRIDGE - CONTINUOUS
BOOM.
A fiery explosion tears through the bridge. The car flips, flames bursting into the night sky. Wreckage plummets over the edge into the water below.
INT. FBI HEADQUARTERS – BRIEFING ROOM – DAY
A digital map of Washington D.C. glows on the screen. Photos of the car explosion, along with other recent crime scene images, flash in a slideshow. AGENT MAYA JENNINGS (sharp, observant), AGENT TYLER (charming but green), and AGENT DALE (40s, cynical, tired) sit among other agents and analysts.
At the front, a SENIOR ANALYST addresses the room.
SENIOR ANALYST172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡm7FRIZto0s
Early this morning, a vehicle explosion was reported on the outskirts of D.C. The car was registered to James Melen, former D.O.D. intelligence advisor. Wreckage was total—whatever happened, it was fast and violent.172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡw5MtgXZoBT
(on screen: charred remains of the vehicle)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1KtQuYPnIE
We managed to recover a fragment of DNA. Preliminary results point to a positive match—James Melen.
AGENT TYLER (murmuring to Maya)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8ggt2k0YAD
A guy like that dies in a fireball and it's ruled an accident? That's either bad luck or—
AGENT DALE (interrupting)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡB7wE3zJRWv
—or karma. Maybe he pissed off the wrong ex-wife.
Light laughter ripples through the room. The mood remains casual despite the grim details.
SENIOR ANALYST172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIHm2oKLyip
We're logging it as a high-speed crash followed by detonation—likely mechanical failure or road hazard. No foul play… officially.
AGENT MAYA (frowning)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4lENDVLjAU
That's the third "accident" in two weeks. That NSA tech in Baltimore. The contract courier in Virginia. Now this?
AGENT TYLER172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAZmCftHoqi
You think they're connected?
Dale shrugs, already checking his phone, uninterested.
AGENT DALE172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaIXGQceaV6
People die. Sometimes they just die.
Maya isn't convinced. She leans forward, eyes scanning the screen. Behind her, Tyler watches her with interest—partly in her theory, mostly in her.
SENIOR ANALYST172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOmWvsQ5UOq
Anyway, it's done. File it. Move on. Unless someone has any objections?
No one speaks—
INT. LENA'S APARTMENT - DAY
LENA sits in her apartment, her eyes glued to the news on the television. The report comes through, detailing the explosion. The wreckage is so extensive, there's barely any sign that a car ever existed. A body was found, but it was reduced to ash, unrecognizable. The DNA test confirms it: James Melen is dead.
Lena's hand trembles as she reaches for her phone, trying to get in touch with him. There's no response. Her mind races, searching for answers. She knows the truth—they couldn't have gotten to him so easily. There's something off about this entire story. James was always one step ahead, a man who couldn't be taken down by something as simple as a car accident.
But the news is clear. The public believes it, the authorities believe it, even the highest levels of OMNI believe it. James is dead. The organization has erased him, made sure there's no trace of him left to follow.
But Lena, with her keen intuition and intimate knowledge of the agency, won't allow herself to fall into that belief so easily. She runs her hand through her hair, pacing the room. There's a strange sense of urgency creeping into her chest. James wouldn't go down without a fight. But how did they make it so convincing? No body, just ashes...
She feels the weight of the moment settle around her. They killed him, but why? What do they want from her? She tries to push away the sinking feeling in her stomach—if they got to him, could she be next?
INT. LENA'S APARTMENT - NIGHT
Despite her panic, Lena tries to calm herself. The news report keeps replaying in her mind. She knows something isn't right. OMNI had killed their own agents before, but this was different. This felt more like a warning.
She thinks about the document she found—Clean Sweep. The order to kill everyone, including James. It was meant to be a quiet purge, but this was something bigger. She shudders as she realizes the depth of the betrayal.
Still, Lena doesn't think they would come for her. Not yet. She hasn't been exposed—no one knows she saw the document. Or at least, she thinks they don't. She's been careful, keeping her head low.
But the nagging feeling in her gut won't go away.
Unaware that her every move is being watched, Lena settles in for the night, but sleep won't come. The echo of James's absence hangs heavy in the air, as does the growing suspicion that the agency will come for her next.
Scene 2: The Poisoned Thread
EXT. SUBURBAN STREET – DAY
Birds chirp in a quiet Washington D.C. suburb. The camera sweeps across a row of townhouses. A lawn sprinkler spins. Somewhere down the block, a neighbour waves.
NEIGHBOR (MRS. KAPLAN)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgM8Dck3iWw
Morning, Lena! That your little sunshine?
LENA BROOKS (smiling, holding Mia's hand)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡB7cXS6kJo2
Sure is. Say hi to Mrs. Kaplan, Mia.
MIA (10)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVBNaNe3eKD
Hi, Mrs. K!
MRS. KAPLAN172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDQT04q5xvd
She's getting so big! You ladies off to the mall?
LENA'S MOTHER (GRACE BROOKS)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqNpoY4o0eQ
Girls' day out. Shopping, then some lunch. Nothing fancy.
MRS. KAPLAN172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ03hg1zlUIx
You deserve it. Haven't seen you smile in a while, Lena.
LENA (pauses, then smiles)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYIAgTbC3dq
Trying to change that.
They walk toward the car. Lena hesitates at the door. She turns and looks back at her house — just a flicker of unease. She shrugs it off.
INT. CIA VAN – MOVING – DAY
Inside a van disguised as a plumbing service vehicle, two men sit quietly. One is young, cold-eyed, holding a syringe laced with poison. The other, an older analyst, sits in front of a laptop connected to satellite surveillance. A headset rests in his ears.
OMNI ANALYST (VIA COMMS)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡW6AUUzZ2pO
Status check?
FIELD AGENT (CODY RENNER)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYxMT2AlRcM
Visual acquired. Target entering shopping plaza with mother and child. Confirmed location: Willow Creek Plaza.
OMNI ANALYST (VOICE ONLY)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡE5zrJMWv43
You sure she didn't sniff you out?
CODY RENNER (chuckles)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDJNpaNPsVB
She's out the game. Civilian now. Orders from Langley?
OMNI ANALYST172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrXLP0FMBA8
Director said clean. No mess. No gunfire. Just... gone.
CODY RENNER172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsxP0bjFZd4
Understood.
INT. WILLOW CREEK PLAZA – CLOTHING STORE – DAY
Mia twirls in front of a mirror in a little pink dress. GRACE sits watching, sipping coffee. LENA walks out of the changing room in jeans and a blazer.
GRACE BROOKS172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1c1Wp7WwWM
Now that's my girl. You used to dress like that in college before you went... wherever you went.
LENA (smirking)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ00oVXcRRbE
Wherever, huh?
MIA172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLXUTxDMpzU
Mommy, you look like the lady from the spy movie!
LENA (laughs nervously)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZtEPIIB5VC
No spies here, baby.
Her eyes flick toward a man outside the store, watching with sunglasses. Just a guy. Or so it seems. She shakes it off.
EXT. WILLOW CREEK RESTAURANT PATIO – LATER
A sunny open-air café. Music plays faintly. Laughter. Waiters rush past tables. CODY RENNER sits two tables away, wearing sunglasses and reading a menu. Lena, Grace, and Mia are seated, halfway through their meal. Cody waits for his moment.
WAITER172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCLPzpXqAmy
Another round of drinks, ladies?
GRACE172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdwMAvo4Jk8
Oh, why not. Celebrating my daughter actually relaxing.
LENA172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmye8Rnu7iX
Make mine light—just soda, please.
CODY (to waiter, calmly)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡryjGJSoH1k
I'll get theirs. Put it on my tab.
WAITER172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0jwzC5xfpo
Very kind of you, sir.
As the waiter walks back, Cody slips something from his sleeve into Lena's drink unnoticed. The OMNI analyst watches via a tiny drone feed.
OMNI ANALYST (V.O.)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzoLSCVB5CY
Done?
CODY RENNER172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDuJe8pBQQo
Delivery successful. T-minus ten minutes.
OMNI ANALYST172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMAPGWjL78c
You're good at this, Cody. You should've been OMNI.
CODY (flat)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAZBia3XFXN
I don't kill friends.
INT. RESTAURANT – TEN MINUTES LATER
Lena suddenly stops mid-laugh. Her hand trembles around her fork. She tries to smile, tries to speak, but a wave of dizziness crashes down. She leans into the table.
LENA172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwMEiheVxFu
Mom… I—something's wrong…
GRACE BROOKS172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqZ2ZhjfAuW
Lena?
MIA172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiGYsuGCjxk
Mommy?
Lena clutches her chest, gasping. Her glass topples over. Patrons begin to notice. Grace shouts, panicked.
GRACE BROOKS172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqt3kRUL63L
Somebody help! Call an ambulance!
Cody stands, silently slips away in the chaos. No one notices him vanish into the crowd.
INT. HOSPITAL – EMERGENCY ROOM – NIGHT
Machines beep. Lena lies unconscious in the hospital bed, pale and still. Tubes and IVs feed into her arm. Her lips are dry, her breathing shallow. Grace holds Mia in her lap.
GRACE BROOKS (whispering, terrified)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpPJoosEJTt
You're gonna be okay, Lena. You hear me? You have to be…
Mia clutches her mother's hand tightly.
MIA (whispers)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡD3XZT7belB
I love you, Mommy…
INT. CIA OFFICE – PRIVATE ROOM – NIGHT
The OMNI analyst leans back in his chair, watching hospital footage.
OMNI ANALYST (muttering to himself)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdUsjyYTDRF
Didn't finish the job...
A dark figure enters the room silently. The OMNI analyst stiffens.
FIGURE (THE DIRECTOR)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWhlejRuqQl
She can't live. OMNI doesn't leave shadows.
OMNI ANALYST172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡc5cbfjV9Fk
Understood.
Scene 3: The Quiet Goodbye
INT. HOSPITAL – ICU ROOM – NIGHT
Rain hits the windows as machines beep steadily. Monitors glow softly. Lena lies motionless, pale, sweat on her forehead. Her lips twitch. She stirs. Slowly, her eyes flutter open.
She blinks once. Twice.
LENA (weakly)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgShyjHX4ma
Mom…?
Beside her, GRACE BROOKS jerks awake in the chair, clutching Mia, who is curled on her lap.
GRACE BROOKS172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGEmiT3E8FU
Lena! Baby, you're awake!
Mia stirs and sits up, rubbing her eyes.
MIA172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2TDQ8yPf38
Mommy!?
Lena smiles faintly, eyes scanning the room. Her hand trembles as she reaches out. Grace holds it tightly.
INT. HOSPITAL – NURSE'S STATION – SAME TIME
A young NURSE checks Lena's vitals on a monitor. She frowns.
NURSE172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbA9CJa88DU
That's odd… Her heart rate's spiking again.
A male DOCTOR approaches, concerned.
DOCTOR172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwefkybSWo5
Vitals look like a toxin is still active… but we flushed everything.
Just then, the screen glitches. It flickers. Numbers adjust on their own — but subtly. No alarms.
DOCTOR (confused)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeXHCWzuE9l
Are these machines synced? They shouldn't—wait, check the T34 infusion rates on her IV.
NURSE172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpYfkztboEO
Already on it.
INT. CIA BACKROOM – NIGHT
A dark room lit by monitors. The OMNI ANALYST types rapidly, lines of code dancing across his screen. He hacks into the hospital network, overriding a Baxter Sigma Spectrum IV Pump remotely.
OMNI ANALYST (under breath)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFRi5cQnahV
Let's see how long your luck lasts, Lena Brooks.
INT. HOSPITAL – ICU ROOM
Lena's breathing grows heavier. She closes her eyes. The beeping accelerates. Sweat beads her brow again. She opens her eyes suddenly—remembering.
FLASHBACK – CLOTHING STORE – HOURS EARLIER172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡejCo6HTHUN
The man by the sunglasses stand. Black glasses. Slight smirk. A second too long staring.
BACK TO PRESENT
LENA (softly)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡs47KbGrdYp
It was him. They know. They sent him...
GRACE BROOKS172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡS6kKJRpEGY
What are you saying, honey?
LENA172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnh8Ow0R7oK
It was them, Mom.
She squeezes her mother's hand weakly.
LENA (cont'd)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjsK8RdpcAc
They won't stop.
INT. HOSPITAL – HALLWAY – NIGHT
A DOCTOR whispers with a NURSE.
DOCTOR172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLUz62OAPG7
Her condition's declining. Fast. The toxin's synthetic… we can't identify it. It's like her body's shutting down slowly on command.
NURSE172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡivwKZ7gZgG
There's no antidote?
DOCTOR172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdEqrFSv2YS
Not for something we can't even trace.
INT. ICU ROOM – LATER
Lena's voice is soft now, fading, but steady with purpose. She's on the phone, one by one, calling people she loves.
LENA (on phone)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkY9nKLneIO
Dad… I'm sorry I left the way I did. I just wanted to protect you. I love you. Always have.172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6XhSn3SXDq
(beat)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRKXzRuVISd
Tell Ryan… tell him to raise his boys bold.
Next call.
LENA (on phone)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLxaF6aD1B6
Angela… my best friend. I wish I'd told you what I really did. You always knew, didn't you? Always said I had secrets. I did. But you… you were my anchor.
She ends the call and turns to her daughter, barely holding her eyes open. Mia holds her mother's hand, sobbing.
MIA172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGwS5LjOqkJ
You're gonna be okay, right? You said you'd take me to the beach… remember? Just us. Who's gonna take care of me if you go?
LENA (smiling through tears)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPdJuQwgqZj
Grandma will… and I'll always be here with you, baby. Always.
Mia sniffles hard, burying her face into her mom's shoulder.
LENA (whispering)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡU7GdGdMcmQ
Don't worry... someone will watch over you.
FLASHBACK – LENA'S MEMORY: "THE BREAK ROOM"
INT. CIA BLACKSITE – BREAK ROOM – NIGHT
Dim, sterile lighting. A clock ticks. Vending machines hum. The kind of place that never feels fully alive — even when people are in it.
A group of tired field workers — a mix of analysts and ops — sit around a metal table. LENA BROOKS (early 30s) sips bad coffee, legs crossed on the chair. AGENT PATEL, QUINN, and MCNALLY eat quietly from takeout boxes.
There's laughter, but it's hollow — the kind people use to mask the exhaustion.
PATEL172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkH7EaV5v1n
You know what's crazy? One of these missions — boom. We don't come back. Just like that.
QUINN172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlklNOAP1U5
Yeah. "Service acknowledged. Flag folded. Move on."
MCNALLY (scoffing)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbx33MLZ3DO
I don't even have anyone to give the flag to.
LENA (low, honest)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJxnlMf3jTu
I think about it all the time. (leaves swirl in her coffee) Not the dying part. But… leaving people behind. My mom. My sister. What would they even be told?
They all go quiet.
QUINN (quietly)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmBqlUngmjL
What about you, Lena? What scares you most?
Lena leans back. Takes a breath.
LENA172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9RbZrbknig
Not being able to say goodbye.172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHMqVwazeZw
(beat)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxaCiPrjj7D
Not knowing what they'll remember. If they'll even understand why I did all this.
She looks over — across the room, near the vending machines. JAMES MELEN (late 30s) sits alone, cleaning a sidearm, quietly listening. He's not part of the group — but he's always there. Like a shadow that can bleed.
LENA (calling out)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdK8jQMsIsd
What about you, James?
He doesn't respond.
LENA (CONT'D)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡw5kKiMXml2
You scared of dying?
The group turns to look at him. He pauses, finishing what he's doing.
Finally:
JAMES172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcxmMQlO5NU
Death's not a surprise to people like us. It doesn't knock. It waits. Every room. Every breath.
The room is completely still.
JAMES (CONT'D)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwpm8WXfbMy
I don't think about fear anymore. Just... the day it comes. Like it always will.
He holsters the weapon, stands.
LENA (softly)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0tkUOgVGY7
That sounds… lonely.
JAMES172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCUNfWUpD1G
Maybe it is.
He walks out. No anger. No drama. Just silence trailing him like a ghost.
The others stare after him. No one speaks.
FLASHBACK ENDS.
INT. HOSPITAL – NIGHTFALL
Hours pass. The room grows quieter. Beeping slows. Grace clutches Lena's hand. Mia sleeps at the foot of the bed, arms around her mom's leg.
GRACE BROOKS (tearful prayer)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3w93iUl4Sk
Please, God. Don't take her. Not like this.
A NURSE enters slowly, eyes cast down. The DOCTOR follows, clipboard in hand.
DOCTOR (softly)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPc49fHiogV
We did everything we could.
The heart monitor flatlines. One long tone echoes through the room.
GRACE BROOKS (sobbing)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxBbGCcQwZn
No... no, please...
Mia wakes up, sensing the shift. She looks at her mom. Then at the monitor.
MIA (crying hard)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhUXRZr1nPP
No! Mommy! Wake up! Mommy, don't go! Don't go!
GRACE (holding her close)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3AMc5zOgku
Shhh… shhh, baby… I'm here. I'm here.
INT. CIA MONITOR ROOM – SAME TIME
The OMNI ANALYST leans back as the feed goes dark. He presses a key, encrypting the log and wipes the trace.
OMNI ANALYST172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcWbrfrO9lR
She's off the board.
Scene 4: The Funeral
EXT. CEMETERY – MIDDAY – CLOUDY
A cold breeze whispers through the oak trees. The sky is grey but holding back rain. Rows of people dressed in black gather quietly. Chairs set before a fresh grave. The casket sits in place, draped in white lilies and a framed photo of LENA BROOKS, smiling brightly — alive, strong, unaware of her fate.
Muted murmurs float around the crowd. Some hold tissues. Others lean on one another.
NEIGHBOUR #1 (MRS. K, early 60s)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡONzzcYw8O5
Such a sweet girl… always helped me with my groceries.
NEIGHBOUR #2172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMPUS1XhTBn
And her little one... poor thing. Buried her mother before her first school dance.
PRIEST (V.O.) (gently)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvxwKkawGni
We are gathered here today to lay to rest our beloved Lena Brooks — a daughter, a mother, a friend. Gone too soon, but never forgotten.
INT. FUNERAL CROWD – AMONG THE MOURNERS
GRACE BROOKS stands by her granddaughter, MIA, tightly holding her hand. Her jaw clenched. Her eyes tired.
Murmurs rise as a man walks in quietly, standing near the back.
MRS. K (whispering to Grace)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpw5VrinlFt
Is that… her father?
Grace stiffens. Her eyes follow the man — ROBERT BROOKS, mid-50s, leather coat, sunglasses, clean-shaven but aged from years of silence. Grace's lips press into a thin, bitter line.
GRACE BROOKS (cold)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiW7ve9ByMN
He has no right to be here.
Robert steps forward. Nods politely to someone. A friend of Lena's — ANGELA, a woman in her 30s — approaches him cautiously.
ANGELA (soft)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZRjr5K4n88
You're Lena's dad?
ROBERT (measured, unreadable)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9F0U4Bqq3R
I am. Robert. I… didn't know until it was too late.
ANGELA172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡURkxwK5yz5
She called me that night. Said she had secrets... sounded scared. Then this.
ROBERT (quietly, dismissive)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFuymmqxnqJ
Some things are better left buried.
Angela frowns. Grace watches them, protective.
EXT. FUNERAL SERVICE – LATER
The priest steps aside. People begin stepping forward to place flowers by the casket. Angela. Mrs. K. A quiet line of friends.
Then two men, lingering on the edges — in plain black suits. Not mourning. Watching.
INT. A FEW FEET AWAY – WHISPERED CONVERSATION
CIA ANALYST (WOMAN, mid-30s)(Amara)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkVIdFlVs3W
Why are we even here? She was just a mother, right?, what did she do?
OMNI ANALYST (cruel, smug)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8JKB3insYv
She was a liability.
CIA ANALYST172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKi3LkXxYS5
and you killed her?
OMNI ANALYST (with finality)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnwS20rPyf8
Clean sweep.
CIA ANALYST (curious)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9cCUWYE44C
Clean sweep for what? who are you people?
He looks at her. Sharp. Cold.
OMNI ANALYST172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYocPdx4zCw
It's best you stop asking questions. You won't like the answers.
She falls silent. Swallows hard.
EXT. CEMETERY – AFTER SERVICE
Mia is standing near the casket, eyes distant. She tugs at Grace's hand.
MIA172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpKcweAMKh7
Grandma… who is that?
Grace follows her gaze. Far off, beyond the others, stands a figure in black clothes, black sunglasses, and a long coat. Still. Watching the funeral. But distant. Unmoving.
GRACE BROOKS (squinting)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1CITtoRJH4
Where?
Mia points again — but the figure is gone.
MIA172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcfX83v3YmZ
He was there... watching. Why didn't he come close?
GRACE BROOKS (kneeling, gently wiping her tears)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYolMfuGIIk
Sometimes… our hearts make us see things we want, baby. Your mommy's gone. You're just missing her.
MIA (quietly)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡohjEuI4TyS
No. I saw him.
EXT. CEMETERY – LATER THAT EVENING
Everyone has gone. The wind has picked up. Fallen petals scatter on the ground. The casket now buried, earth fresh over the grave.
A shadow steps forward from behind a tree.
The same black coat.172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeQk3VY2xiK
Same sunglasses.172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuONyZQD7Lv
Hands trembling slightly, holding a single white flower.
He kneels before the tombstone:
LENA BROOKS172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5PuTmts12t
1989 – 2025172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxgudK6TQUa
Beloved Daughter, Brave Mother, Fierce Soul
The man places the flower gently on the grave.
MAN (softly)172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZejNxDcv9o
It didn't have to be like this, Lena…172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡV2cy9kV7i1
I'm sorry.
As he stands and turns to leave, the camera slowly pulls in on the back of his neck, where the collar dips — revealing a distinctive tattoo: a hawk and blade, the same ink we saw on James Melen in the opening scene. Personal. Marked. Unmistakable. …
JAMES MELEN.
He disappears into the woods beyond the graveyard.
[END OF EPISODE 1]
ns216.73.216.208da2
and then Add to home screen.