reveals a small folded note, he picks it up looks at the 7 numbers written in ink and crumples it up and puts it in his mouth and chews it. The crowd on the screen cheer as the speaker finishes. The MAN takes a sip and swallows the note, sets the tea cup back on the saucer. He closes one eye.
POV. Man - With one eye, we focus in on the Politician’s head.
POLITICIAN (CONT’D) We must become a Nation of
participants, not observers. We must stop being idle. Those amongst us that complain about their lives. Rise up. Make a difference. One who does nothing has no right to complain. We must LIVE. Live for ourselves. Live for one another...
Pew! The man barely whispers the sound of a gun shot O.S.
BACK ON THE SCREEN the image again flickers to show “ILLEGAL BROADCAST DETECTED. PLEASE STANDBY”.
EXT. TEA HOUSE - NIGHT
As the MAN exits, rain is drizzling and the adorning wall behind him is filled with political propaganda.
His rugged features are expressionless, Hawk-like; his obsidian eyes scan the surrounding street scene for signs of danger; his lean, well-muscled frame ready to spring into action at the slightest provocation.
The man is AXON REY, code name CONDOR, a government secret agent, an elite member of the sanction division of SATO (state anti-terrorist organization) a clandestine collective of assassins under the direct control of SIN (state intelligence network) otherwise known as “The State”.
He crosses the street, passes a LONG HAIRED MAN in a similar suit, another operative, code name CRONUS.
CRONUS slips a room key into Condor's hand as he passes. They don’t even look at one another.
Condor sticks the key in his pocket without looking at it.
He heads across the street where there are people sprawled onto the street staring at their transparent leaf like Ipads waiting in line to get into the Hotel International. There is no human interaction anymore, they all live in a social media world.
reveals a small folded note, he picks it up looks at the 7 numbers written in ink and crumples it up and puts it in his mouth and chews it. The crowd on the screen cheer as the speaker finishes. The MAN takes a sip and swallows the note, sets the tea cup back on the saucer. He closes one eye.POV. Man - With one eye, we focus in on the Politician’s head.POLITICIAN (CONT’D) We must become a Nation ofparticipants, not observers. We must stop being idle. Those amongst us that complain about their lives. Rise up. Make a difference. One who does nothing has no right to complain. We must LIVE. Live for ourselves. Live for one another...Pew! The man barely whispers the sound of a gun shot O.S.BACK ON THE SCREEN the image again flickers to show “ILLEGAL BROADCAST DETECTED. PLEASE STANDBY”.EXT. TEA HOUSE - NIGHTAs the MAN exits, rain is drizzling and the adorning wall behind him is filled with political propaganda.His rugged features are expressionless, Hawk-like; his obsidian eyes scan the surrounding street scene for signs of danger; his lean, well-muscled frame ready to spring into action at the slightest provocation.The man is AXON REY, code name CONDOR, a government secret agent, an elite member of the sanction division of SATO (state anti-terrorist organization) a clandestine collective of assassins under the direct control of SIN (state intelligence network) otherwise known as “The State”.He crosses the street, passes a LONG HAIRED MAN in a similar suit, another operative, code name CRONUS.CRONUS slips a room key into Condor's hand as he passes. They don’t even look at one another.Condor sticks the key in his pocket without looking at it.He heads across the street where there are people sprawled onto the street staring at their transparent leaf like Ipads waiting in line to get into the Hotel International. There is no human interaction anymore, they all live in a social media world.
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