Toxic Rage Page #8

SENATOR GRAYSON:

I don't give a flying f*** about the media! I care about the fact that we're on the edge of an environmental disaster and a political shitstorm!

MELISSA:

(through clenched teeth)

Holding information back from the public is not just bad optics; it's illegal.

SENATOR GRAYSON:

(fists clenched)

You think I don't know that, Counselor?

He SNATCHES an iPad from PAUL's hands, shoves it back to him.

SENATOR GRAYSON:

(looming over the table)

We've got kids sick, people dying, and our own damn team is falling apart. If we don't get ahead of this, we'll all be behind bars!

PAUL:

(tapping on his iPad)

We could hack the local news sites, buy ourselves some time, but—

SENATOR GRAYSON:

(grabbing PAUL by the collar)

But nothing! Go subterranean, Paul. This is life-and-death!

He releases PAUL, who's visibly shaking now.

NANCY:

(softly, but with gravity)

We need to come clean. It's high time we face the music.

SENATOR GRAYSON:

(pauses, visibly wrestling with the decision)

Alright. Let's get the truth out there. Whatever happens, happens. But we do it right, from this point forward.

INT. ENVIRONMENTAL CONTROL AGENCY HALLWAY - DAY

The team rises, faces flushed. As they exit, GRAYSON slams his fist against the wall, leaving a dent.

EXT. ENVIRONMENTAL CONTROL AGENCY BUILDING - NIGHT

As they step outside, each breathes deeply, as if exhaling their collective sins.

SENATOR GRAYSON:

(pauses at the entrance)

This is the reckoning. We're all in—come hell or high water.

Each disperses into the night, fully aware of the storm that awaits them.

FADE OUT:

INT. SENATOR GRAYSON'S OFFICE - DAY

Senator GRAYSON paces furiously, his Italian leather shoes TAPPING out a staccato rhythm on the hardwood floor. MARK, his Chief of Staff, watches anxiously, as does AMANDA, his Communications Director, and MELISSA, his Legal Advisor.

MARK:

(nervously)

Senator, the press is frothing at the mouth. They're saying the Ohio train derailment happened because of your ties with RegalCorp and their cost-cutting. Social media's already crucifying us.

GRAYSON:

(slamming his fist onto his mahogany desk)

Those bastards at RegalCorp promised those rail upgrades would meet safety standards!

AMANDA:

(through gritted teeth)

The workers are claiming RegalCorp cut corners, and they're saying we knew about it. It's a complete shitshow!

GRAYSON:

(looking out the window, the view of the Capitol blurred by his rage)

So, what's our play here? We going down with the ship or what?

MARK:

(looking at the floor)

Sir, our poll numbers are in freefall. Our 'concerned' constituents are calling for your head on a pike.

AMANDA:

(with an acerbic edge)

We have to go on the offensive. If we don't control the narrative, we're toast.

GRAYSON:

(snarling)

You think this is news to me? I want options, and I want them now. What the hell do we have on RegalCorp? Any skeletons we can rattle?

MELISSA:

(speaking softly, yet sharply)

We could leak documents that show RegalCorp was aware of the risks. It would be illegal, but it might save your career and throw them under the bus.

GRAYSON:

Leak the docs, but make damn sure they can't be traced back to us.

The room falls silent. The atmosphere thickens, every molecule in the room seeming to vibrate with the intensity of their choices.

MELISSA:

(picking up her phone, her fingertips trembling)

I'll get our guy on it.

MARK'S PHONE BUZZES. He checks it, his face draining of color.

MARK:

Senator, RegalCorp's CEO just died under mysterious circumstances. Police are treating it as suspicious.

GRAYSON:

Christ. This complicates everything. If they dig deep enough, they'll unearth our ties, leaked documents or not.

AMANDA:

(biting her lip)

You think it's related? You think they're cleaning house?

GRAYSON:

I don't know. But grab your umbrellas, folks. We're about to step into a shitstorm.

INT. OFFICE BUILDING HALLWAY - NIGHT

The team walks down the hallway. The harsh glare of the fluorescent lights seems to interrogate them as they walk, throwing stark shadows on the walls like ominous omens.

EXT. OFFICE BUILDING - NIGHT

As they step out into the night, a soft drizzle begins to fall. Their hearts POUND in their chests, the night alive with unseen threats.

GRAYSON:

(pausing for a moment)

In that moment, they all knew: the real derailment had only just begun.

They disperse into the blackness, their souls burdened by the weight of their choices.

FADE OUT:

INT. SENATOR GRAYSON'S OFFICE - NIGHT

The room is a pressure cooker, stifling and thick with a tension that makes the air almost too heavy to breathe. The acrid aroma of cold coffee and days-old pizza mix with the sting of artificial air freshener. Grayson's LED monitor displays a breaking news segment, damning headlines about RegalCorp blazing across the screen. The entire room vibrates with the invisible drumbeat of mounting dread.

GRAYSON:

(slamming his fist onto his desk, veins in his neck protruding)

F***ing finally! The world knows what scum RegalCorp is!

AMANDA:

(tasting bile in her throat, face pale as chalk)

Sir, social media's exploding. They think Mia did it. Our plan actually worked, but--

MARK:

(nervously scratching his forearm, sweat dripping from his forehead)

Yeah, and the dark web's buzzing. Hacktivists are planning to leak more sh*t, believing they're helping Mia. This could get ugly, real f***ing ugly.

GRAYSON:

(inhaling sharply, his nose wrinkling)

Do they have anything on us? Do they smell the rat?

MELISSA:

(touching her icy ring finger to her temple, trying to focus amidst the ringing in her ears)

Not yet. Our digital fingerprints are scrubbed clean. But if they dig deeper—

GRAYSON:

(shivering, despite the heat)

If they dig, they'll find we set up Mia. Then we're all going to federal prison, no "ifs" or "buts."

MARK:

F*** me sideways! Our secret source just messaged. RegalCorp's got a hacker group on this. They're ready to wreck Mia's life. Bank accounts, personal emails, medical records—everything.

AMANDA:

(tasting the metallic hint of adrenaline on her lips)

If Mia finds out we framed her, and RegalCorp destroys her, she'll have nothing to lose. She'll bring us down in a flaming nosedive!

GRAYSON:

(feeling the weight of a sinking ship pulling him into an abyss)

What's our move then, geniuses?

MELISSA:

(utterly still, her voice whisper-thin but razor-sharp)

We double down. Leak something on RegalCorp so damaging, so catastrophic, that they won't have time to focus on Mia or us.

AMANDA:

(squinting as if light might emanate from her own head)

I've got it. Leak their "Project Helix" files. Isn't that some bioweapon crap? That'll put 'em in the federal crosshairs!

GRAYSON:

(jaw clenched, feeling the room close in on him)

It's sedition. F***ing treason. Do it.

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