Undertow - 4.0 - The Last Step
The line that cannot be uncrossed
EPISODE CREDITS:
Luke Alphonso as Waylon Grant
Abigail Turner as Jonny
Alexander Doddy as Nick Ballard
Sarah Ruth Thomas as Jillian Hart
James Holyoake as Martin Angle
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Dan Boud as the Narrator
Written by Damian Szydlo
Direction by Amanda Hufford
Sound Design by Chris Henry
Script Editing by Jupiter Sanders
Show theme by Doug Maxwell
TRANSCRIPT
[FADE IN]
NARRATOR
For every merc there were days in the business like this one. Where it might seem like the city itself might have turned to focus a very deep and concentrated sort of attention… to watch with bated breath while all the pieces began to fall into place. The feeling was undeniable; it hung heavy in the air, an oppressive tension that had no other outlet than to give release to a most sullen, permeating rain. The kind that held the promise of a cleansing downpour just as soon as some invisible dam had finally given way. Only then, once the moment had passed, would the city be permitted to breathe freely again.
Gathered together under a semi-collapsing overhang off the northernmost boardwalk before ‘civilized’ Arcadia might be classified as ‘The Zone’... Mr. Ballard and Mr. Grant were both acutely aware of the proverbial dominos that had been tenuously set up. Nevermind to mention how easy it would be to set them into motion ahead of schedule. This meeting was supposed to feel casual despite the fact that all involved knew it was anything but. Taking a drag of his cigarette; Waylon could, for all his empathic ability, only wonder if the man who stood with them realized what was at play here. If he did then he was doing an incredible job masking it behind the sort of comfortable, welcoming smile that a man wore around friends. Something they most certainly were not.
[Martin chuckles in response to an ongoing conversation, it’s the sort of laugh one gives when they’re about to cut them in on some information or other.]
MARTIN
“That’s fair, Nick. More than fair. You should know, things have gotten… complicated with our merry little band of misfits. Jill hardly comes up for air these days, much less for a social. I on the other hand will take every opportunity presented to relish the distraction. It’s not everyday I get the pleasure of catching up with someone from the old country.”
NICK
“Let’s be honest, ‘things’ have always been complicated with you lot. You’re difficult to know.”
MARTIN
“Ahh, but it’s been a different sort of complicated this time, entirely. I’m sure she’ll fill you in herself but… to put it bluntly something’s upset the big golden squid and that’s not good for anyone right now. Shades of ’67 all over again. Someone out there’s shaking the pillars, I think.”
WAYLON
“2067. Blackout Day. Dark Fathom… You’re preparing for war.”
MARTIN
“Not quite, friend. Despite the fact that tongues keep waggin’ on about the good ol’ days, truth of it is that a conflict with Kraken ‘today’ would turn out very differently than it did back then… and not for the better, I’d wager. Not without a significant advantage. Leverage, as it is. We had that back then, not so sure what we have now. Hold on, [pauses for a moment] spotters got sight on someone. Female, in a long coat, alone and on foot.”
NICK
[sarcastic as the rain finally bursts into a downpour]
“That’s our Jonny, punctual as always. Just in time to enjoy the weather, too.”
MARTIN
[on comms to the spotter]
“Let her through. She’s got an invitation to the ball.”
[let scene breathe for a moment as Jonny approaches]
JONNY
“Well, look at this sorry bunch. Afraid of a bit of rain, are you?”
NICK
“Just bein’ proactive. Figured we’d need to find a good, dry spot of land to camp the night if we’d be required to wait on the likes of Just Jonny to drag herself out of bed.”
JONNY
“What can I say, I’d have been a terrible shift worker. Not that I want to jinx my luck at all but is Bell not coming to this little meeting?”
WAYLON
“Nick thought it best to leave her out of the preliminaries.”
MARTIN
“Much appreciated. Bringing that creature around ’d be a particularly unwelcome gesture if I were to say. Never trusted assassins, more so since Howel.”
NICK
“Almost forgot about that old dog. I thought the two of you jackals traveled in a pack.”
MARTIN
[solemnly]
“Howel lives in the past tense, now. I’m sorry to say that the Gentleman took Howel about a year back. He didn’t let the bastard away without paying a toll, though. Gave him a belly full of buckshot that ended up taking the Gentleman to hell along with him.”
NICK
“I’m sorry to hear that. Truly. I’d heard about Indri but hadn’t realized that it’d been Howel who’d done the job.”
MARTIN
“We like to keep things close to the chest. Losing a man like Howel’s a bad enough spot of news for the resistance… making it public only exposes a weak spot, so the commander says anyway. Shall we then? She’s ready to see you lot now.”
NARRATOR
Letting his umbrella pop open, Martin Angle stepped out into the rain, quickly followed by his curious new guests. This sort of ceremony was not all that uncommon in dealing with what stood as perhaps the Underworld's most distrusted faction. Rogues, even among criminals, the other seats at the Table of Seven had always been wary of Dark Fathom for good reason. Every other faction desired, more than anything, a way to grab power and legitimize themselves not only within Arcadia but in Neo-Atlantis itself… while the seventh seat wanted nothing more than to tear it all down and throw the scraps to the people. This higher calling, this… seeming disregard for advancement made it a wonder the faction had claimed their seat at the table altogether. It might come as little surprise that they rarely joined the others for supper, as it were; reserving it’s vote to often act as a wild card when matters of the Accord came to discussion. Idealists and revolutionaries could make for poor bedfellows at times, but necessary ones all the same.
MARTIN
“Right this way, straight up these stairs to the rooftop. Can’t miss her. She’s been waiting.”
NICK
“You’re not coming with us?”
MARTIN
[raps twice on a metal door before turning back to the group, the sound of a latch unlocking can be heard]
“Afraid not. I’ve some business at Poseidon’s Reach that needs tending. Besides, not much use for a middleman when you’re meeting with Jill herself. Nothing happens within Dark Fathom without her involvement. We’d follow her into hell if we weren’t already there.”
JONNY
“Grim outlook, that. Some might say it was you lot that put us here in the first place.”
MARTIN
“Some might not deny it. A lesson in consequence. Enjoy your night.”
NARRATOR
Martin smiled with a nod before taking his exit from their company who would waste little time in opening the door for a quick reprieve to the rain. The stairwell was narrow and old, clearly having seen a partial collapse and subsequent reinforcement by whatever locals now called this place home. Most of the buildings out this far into the zone were mere husks of what they once were in an Arcadia that had been intended to house the majority of Neo-Atlantis’ residential population… a duty that Attica now provided for verified citizens of the city. Leaky concrete and plasti-steel giants in various states of decay but still good living when compared to how bad things were in the Zone proper; for these buildings at least still enjoyed power from the makeshift solar grids that made Arcadia livable. Every step one took north of this place was one step to a harder life.
[Sound of door opening to rooftop air and rain again.]
WAYLON [Internal]
“If sight itself could paint a portrait, what a work it might create of a scene like this. This was something I could appreciate. The ambiance, an environment that had been curated specifically for us for this meeting. Sombre, sullen… we would emerge from the guts of the struggling streets below; grim and reeking of the sea, soaked and dripping from the rain to see her… the matriarch and figurehead of terrorists and freedom fighters both… a large umbrella sheltering her as she sat, dry, in front of a rickety table. A single lamp resting upon its surface. The only light in this darkness. We would need to seek her grace, the shelter provided by Dark Fathom… or stay out in the rain. I watch as my companions are quick to take her welcoming smile and the casual gesture she greets them with. An offer to join her. It is fortunate for me and my reluctance to this ‘courtesy’ that the Mer are more than comfortable in the rain. My hesitation does not go unnoticed.”
JILLIAN
“Alright. Suit yourself, Waylon. Now, for the rest of you; before we start I want to be clear about something. I don’t fuck around. I have already read comprehensive dossiers on each of you so you’ll excuse me if I forgo introductions or the illusion that I’m surprised at anything you have to say, or by the things you're capable of. It’s not my intention to offend you but I have little use for pleasantries and a great respect for preparation. When you’re speaking with me you’re speaking with all of Dark Fathom, from the smallest street operator all the way to the Voice himself and we don’t have time for games. I’m only here because I believe resolving this situation is of vital importance to the health of the revolution and leaving you to shoot up the city in search of answers is going to leave me with a pile of dead operatives. So before we begin, guns on the table, folks. No bullshit.”
JONNY
“Fair enough. [unholsters her morays and puts them on the table]. I suppose we should just pretend that you don’t have a half dozen snipers out there with us dancing around in their scopes, then?”
[sounds of others placing down their pistols]
JILLIAN
“I couldn’t honestly care less what you tell yourselves. We’re in charge here and we’re not taking any risks. Now, let’s talk.”
NICK BALLARD
“Alright. The floor’s yours, old friend.”
WAYLON
“I’ll get straight to the point. Alex Webb. Kraken abducted her over five years ago. Sometime after that, she fell into your hands. Instead of doing the right thing, Dark Fathom became her new abductor. Is this accurate?”
JILLIAN
“Well, that’s a complicated question, Detective Grant. If I were to tell you that you were right and that she was alive and safe, would that suffice?”
JONNY
“Not fucking likely.”
WAYLON
“Jonny, please.”
[Waylon pauses himself in an attempt to keep his composure]
“Ms. Hart. I am here to negotiate the safe and peaceful return of Alex Webb, as contracted by missing persons report #02893 I am authorized to -
JILLIAN
“I’m sorry, detective but that won’t be happening so you can stop right there. It’s just not possible. You’re friend isn’t… well to put it bluntly Alex isn’t Alex anymore. It isn’t safe to release her to you or to anybody for that matter.”
WAYLON
“I am aware… that Kraken did things. Changed her, somehow. I… my memory is returning. I… remember now.
JILLIAN
“Do you? That’s unfortunate. The Yakuza won’t be thrilled to know that, I’ll bet. They spent quite a bit to provide you that peace of mind.”
WAYLON
[Sudden angry mood swing, years of pain boiling through to shake his tenuous calm]
“Peace of mind? Is that what you call it? You think that what you’ve given me is peace of mind? I’ve been tortured with… fragments of her… of the past… of what you’ve done. If you expect me to -”
JILLIAN
“Walk away? I wouldn’t just expect it. I’d advise it. You have no idea what you’re playing with here.”
WAYLON
“Don’t I? I’ve… seen… everything. Through the eyes of Lin Feng Mien.”
JILLIAN
“It’s so hard to keep a good secret these days. You’d think the Yakuza of all people would understand that. Look, detective, cards on the table, I’m going to level with you. Plead with you even, to leave this alone. You honestly have no god damned idea what they did to her. We thought that we were getting some info on our enemy, on Kraken, when we got the lead of a visiting exec down from the core. We picked that girl up, hoping for anything that we could use to turn their own designs against them. Alex was… a miracle. Way more than we bargained for… and the more we dug into it. What they did to her up there… it’s… she’s dangerous. To herself, to the city… to all of us. She’s a living weapon.”
NICK BALLARD
“Should have guessed. Far be it for Dark Fathom to give up a good weapon, am I right?”
JILLIAN
“You’re not wrong. But this time it’s more than just that. She’s a doomsday device waiting to happen. I can’t… god damn it I can’t tell you more. You’re already compromised. You need to just… believe me that Dark Fathom has the best interests of the people in mind here and letting this out… Well, it just can’t happen. What’s it going to take for you to drop this? For you to believe what I’m telling you?”
WAYLON
“I need to see her.”
JILLIAN
“Can’t do it. We can’t let outsiders compromise Poseidon’s Reach. I can offer a holo-feed transmission, so you can see for yourself, best we can do…”
[incoming holo-com to Jillian Hart]
MARTIN
[breathless, injured]
“Jill. We’ve got problems. Ballard’s crew, are they still with you?”
JILLIAN
“They are. I have you on speaker. What’s happened?”
MARTIN
“Seems like your assassin slipped her leash, Nicky-boy. Must have been tailing us the whole time. Followed me to my submersible and put her blade in me. Damn she’s good. Probably halfway to the Reach by now, following auto-nav I’d bet.”
JILLIAN
“Shit. Alright, we’re on our way back now. Get yourself taken care of, stat. We’ll handle Bell.”
MARTIN
“Acknowledged. Wish… wish I could do more.”
JILLIAN
“Did the best you could. Get fixed. We’ll talk later.”
[ends call]
“Looks like the situation’s changed. The three of you are coming with me.”
JONNY
“Oh? Did the assassin stab us in the back and strike out on her own at the first opportunity to do so? Wish someone would have seen that coming. Is this the point where we do the ‘I told you so’s, detective?”
NICK BALLARD
“Probably not the best time for all that, love.”
JONNY
“Oh no, I think it’s the perfect time. And you [regards Jill], funny how your tune changes when there’s an assassin running around your little underwater fortress. You’re so large and in charge, why don’t you handle it yourself?”
JILLIAN
[talking into her holo, ignoring Jonny]
“All operatives, I repeat all operatives, be on high alert. Incoming small vessel en route to the Reach. Destroy vessel on sight but expect resistance. Transmitting file on the identity of the intruder now. This is not a drill, people.”
[ends call]
“Alright, so much for trying to keep this clean. New deal. You’re coming with me to Posiden’s Reach whether I like it or not and you’re going to assist in dealing with your assassin before she gets us all killed. Understand? Then… Maybe you get to see your Alex Webb in person. Deal?”
WAYLON [Internal]
“I more than understood as I stood by silently, nodding. Letting events play out like a dam that had a well known yet still neglected leak. Watching as the situation reached a bursting point. It gives me no joy to admit my part in these events, nor my subterfuge… but I’d counted on this. Every part of this unfolding catastrophe, this building tidal wave, was unfolding according to plan. Ms. Hart’s denial and subsequent rejection to my request had been an anticipated reaction, as was the more than predictable betrayal orchestrated by Derby Bell. There is an old saying that if one wishes to make an omelette then one must inevitably crack a few eggs.
I realize that this is how it happens. How good men go bad. The obsession. The sacrifices. Many lives for one, somehow more valuable life. The lengths one might go to… to see a crime like this… something so wrong finally put right… and all the compromises that lead to that justice. Can one life… her life… be worth all of this? This chaos? Have I gone too far already?
[FADE OUT]