Toxic Rage Page #7

JOEY:

(angry, whispering)

This was no accidental drug overdose; Jason was murdered.

GREG:

(serious, nodding)

I know. But why? They got that damned document back, didn't they?

Suddenly, a NOISE. Footsteps. Both men tense up, ready to act.

INT. UNDERGROUND MEETING SPOT - CONTINUOUS

Joey reaches for a GUN tucked in his belt. Greg's hand moves towards a SWITCHBLADE in his pocket.

JOEY:

(angry)

What the hell is going on here?

SUDDENLY, a group of MASKED MEN burst into the room, guns drawn.

MASKED MAN #1:

Freeze!

JOEY and GREG exchange a glance, then act in unison. Joey FIRES his gun, hitting Masked Man #1. Greg throws his SWITCHBLADE, hitting another.

INT. UNDERGROUND MEETING SPOT - CONTINUOUS

GREG:

(urgent)

We've got to go, now!

JOEY grabs a BAG full of DOCUMENTS from a hidden compartment on the wall.

JOEY:

(grim)

Not without this. Mia's info is in here.

EXT. UNDERGROUND MEETING SPOT - DUSK

Joey and Greg burst out from the underground, breaking into a RUN.

GREG:

(focused)

Where do we go now?

JOEY:

(determined)

We find Mia. Whatever she knows, it's the key to all this.

A BLACK SUV starts following them. Joey and Greg pick up speed.

EXT. CITY ALLEY - DUSK

JOEY and GREG dart into an alley, barely missing the oncoming FIRE from the SUV.

GREG:

(out of breath)

What's the plan?

JOEY:

(intense)

We have to disappear, lay low until we decode Mia's information. And we have to protect our families.

INT. JOEY'S LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

JILL sits anxiously on the couch, with young BOBBY. JOEY bursts in, locks the door, and then fortifies it with a CHAIR.

JILL:

(worried)

What happened?

JOEY:

(determined)

It's time to go. Pack only what you need. I’ll explain on the way.

EXT. JOEY'S BACKYARD - NIGHT

JOEY, JILL, and BOBBY rush to their CAR, throwing bags in. JOEY takes one last look at his HOME.

JOEY:

(resolute)

They'll pay for this. Every last one of them.

The car speeds off into the night.

FADE OUT:

INT. SECRET MEETING ROOM - NIGHT

The room is dimly lit, the atmosphere heavy with tension and secrecy. A long table dominates the space, its surface covered with scattered documents and electronic devices. At one end sits SENATOR GRAYSON, a man in his late 50s, exuding an air of authority. Surrounding the table are the REGALCORP EXECUTIVES, their expressions a mix of seriousness and apprehension.

SENATOR GRAYSON:

(snarling)

We've got a goddamn mess on our hands. That son of a b*tch, Big Joey, is causing havoc we never anticipated.

EXECUTIVE #1

(nervously)

And Mia's flash drive? What if she's managed to get evidence against us?

SENATOR GRAYSON:

(leaning forward)

That's what's keeping me awake at night. We need to find her, and that flash drive, before she brings the whole operation crashing down.

The room vibrates with tension, the air crackling with a sense of impending doom.

EXECUTIVE #2

(raising his voice)

And what about Jason? He's dead, for f***'s sake!

SENATOR GRAYSON:

(banging his fist on the table)

Don't you think I know that? We can't afford loose ends like him. We need to control this situation, and fast.

The sound of his fist hitting the table reverberates like a gunshot, sending shivers down everyone's spines.

EXECUTIVE #3

(wiping sweat off his brow)

What's the plan, then? How do we neutralize them?

SENATOR GRAYSON:

(fixing his gaze on each of them)

We have connections in law enforcement, in the media. We're going to dig up dirt on each of them, tear down their credibility. Make them look like paranoid fools.

The scent of anxiety fills the room, mingling with the acrid undertones of tension.

EXECUTIVE #1

(bitterly)

And if that doesn't work? What if they manage to expose us?

SENATOR GRAYSON:

(gritting his teeth)

Then we play dirty. Threats, blackmail, whatever it takes to keep them in line. If they won't back down willingly, we'll make them wish they had.

The room is suffused with a chilling aura, the sense of danger palpable in the air.

EXECUTIVE #2

(swearing under his breath)

This is a goddamn nightmare. We never should've gotten involved in this mess.

SENATOR GRAYSON:

(turning his gaze on him)

We're past the point of no return. We either clean up this mess or risk losing everything we've worked for.

The taste of desperation hangs in the air, a bitter reminder of the stakes involved.

EXECUTIVE #3

(voice shaking)

What if they find out about this meeting? About us?

SENATOR GRAYSON:

(leaning back)

They won't. We've covered our tracks well. But we stay vigilant. No loose ends, remember?

The sound of their breathing is heavy, punctuated by the tension in the room.

EXECUTIVE #1

(clenching his fists)

And what if Mia's already given that damn flash drive to someone? What if it's already out there?

SENATOR GRAYSON:

(leaning forward, his eyes cold)

Then we find it. No matter what it takes. We track down that flash drive and destroy anyone who stands in our way.

The room seems to close in, the walls bearing witness to their ominous words.

EXECUTIVE #2

(voice trembling)

What about Big Joey? He's relentless. He won't stop until he brings us down.

SENATOR GRAYSON:

(snarling)

Then we give him a taste of his own medicine. Find his weaknesses, exploit them. Break him if we have to.

The room feels like a pressure cooker, the intensity almost suffocating.

EXECUTIVE #3

(whispering)

What if they come after us, Senator? What if they expose everything?

SENATOR GRAYSON:

(standing up, his voice a low growl)

They won't. And if they even try, we'll bury them so deep they'll wish they were never born.

The room feels electric, charged with an ominous energy that hangs in the air.

As they continue to strategize, their voices escalate, creating a crescendo of tension and fear. The room becomes a pressure cooker of emotions, a place where the balance between control and chaos hangs by a thread.

Dissolve to:

INT. ENVIRONMENTAL CONTROL AGENCY CONFERENCE ROOM - DAY

The room is electric with tension. SENATOR GRAYSON bursts through the door, slamming it behind him so hard it echoes like a gunshot.

SENATOR GRAYSON:

(shouting)

Listen up, you incompetent pricks!

NANCY:

(tightly gripping a dossier)

We've been following the guidelines, Senator. Our team went to East Palestine—

SENATOR GRAYSON:

(slams palms onto table, papers and coffee scatter)

Guidelines? Your damn guidelines have killed a man, Nancy! A government official!

Suddenly, Grayson kicks his chair back and paces around the room, seething.

SENATOR GRAYSON:

(still pacing, livid)

Not to mention the townspeople who are f***ing dropping like flies!

MARK:

(nervously looking at a buzzing smartphone)

We've managed to keep a lid on most of the media, but they're starting to catch a whiff.

Grayson picks up a glass paperweight off a shelf and hurls it across the room, narrowly missing a flatscreen TV showing news tickers about the environmental disaster.

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