Untraceable Page #12

MARSH:

Sh*t!

BECKETT:

Let’s get him!

As everyone rushes out of frame, HOLD ON THE SCREEN.

The Viewer counter reads 7,610,000. The Estimated Time Of

Death is over 5 hours, 25 minutes.

EXT. POLICE HEADQUARTERS HELIPAD -- DUSK.

A Helicopter lands on the roof. Beckett, Box, and Griffin

race toward it. Marsh hesitates with fear. Box grabs her by

the hand. Their eyes lock. He hauls her toward the chopper.

EXT. MARYLAND HIGHWAY -- DUSK.

THREE MARYLAND COUNTY SHERIFF’S CARS race down the highway,

lights flashing, sirens screaming.

.

60.

EXT. SUBURBAN MARYLAND -- SAME -- DUSK.

The helicopter roars over a canopy of trees into the Maryland

suburbs.

INT. HELICOPTER -- SAME -- DUSK

Marsh, strapped in, hands trembling, stares at her computer.

The site is back up. Carver’s gag is back in place. His

head hangs lifeless now, dripping blood from the chin. His

body is a bloody mess.

The Viewer counter is at 8,595,000. The Estimated Time Of

Death is at 3:
43:06. Marsh and Box meet eyes.

EXT. MIDDLE-CLASS HOME -- LATER -- DUSK.

We’ve been here before. SHERIFF’S DEPUTIES wearing body

armor, swarm across the lawn, taking up a perimeter.

Carver’s BMW is no longer parked behind the Cadillac in the

driveway.

INT. MIDDLE-CLASS HOME -- MOMENTS LATER -- DUSK.

The door explodes off its hinges as Sheriff’s Deputies storm

in, weapons drawn. They see no one. They race through the

house, kicking open doors. A DEPUTY with a walkie-talkie to

his ear, screams out-

DEPUTY #1

The basement!

TWO DEPUTIES kick the basement door off its hinges. Guns

drawn, they shine their lights in.

DEPUTY #2

SHERIFF! DOWN ON THE FLOOR! HANDS

WHERE I CAN SEE ‘EM! NOW!

One hits the basement lights.

INT. MIDDLE-CLASS HOME BASEMENT -- CONTINUOUS -- DUSK.

The Two Deputies storm sideways down the stairs, pointing

their weapons. The basement is ordered, tidy, Asiatic. An

exercise bike. A massage bed. A Buddha. Not Owen’s bloody

workshop. A different basement.

.

EXT. MIDDLE-CLASS HOME -- MINUTES LATER -- EVENING.

The helicopter lands in the middle of the blocked-off street.

Marsh, Box, Beckett, and Griffin exit the chopper and head

toward the house. NEIGHBORS have gathered behind a yellow

police cordon. A Deputy hurries out to meet the threesome.

61.

DEPUTY #1

Basement’s clean.

MARSH:

That’s impossible. He’s streaming

live. Are there any other Greenleafs

around here?

DEPUTY #1

Sure, but this is the place all

right.

Marsh doesn’t understand.

INT. MIDDLE-CLASS HOME KITCHEN -- MOMENTS LATER.

Deputy #1 leads everyone in-

DEPUTY:

See?

A laptop computer sits open on the kitchen table. On the

screen, Carver lies dead, his head hanging limply, his nose

and chin dripping blood.

The Viewer counter flies past 13,000,000 and the Estimated

Time Of Death has stopped at 00:00:00.

The text crawl reads: TNXE6...TTKSF...B4N...TNXE6...TTKSF...

B4N...TNXE6...TTKSF..B4N....

MARSH:

Thanks a Million...Trying to Keep a

Straight Face...Bye For Now.

The emoticon waves good-bye. A terrible silence falls over

the group.

.

BECKETT:

(checking his watch)

It took less than six hours.

BOX:

Twice as fast as Miller.

GRIFFIN:

And that’s on a holiday.

MARSH:

(half to herself)

And none of the people who killed

him think they did anything wrong.

(MORE)

62.

MARSH(cont'd)

They just visited a website, like

they do every day...to check the

news...their stocks....

(beat)

Or watch a skateboarder break his

arm. A pedestrian get run over.

Two strangers have sex. An

innocent journalist get beheaded.

Box shakes his head, appalled-

BOX:

When did the world go f***in’

insane? I use my computer to send

mail and get sports scores.

Marsh smiles at Griffin-

MARSH:

He’s been hiding in the field too

long.

Griffin looks meaningfully at Box and points to the laptop-

GRIFFIN:

It’s a jungle in there.

The point lands. Then, slowly, Marsh looks around, thinking,

piecing it together-

MARSH:

Carver gave us this address because

this is where he was captured. He

was moved later, but he didn’t know

it.

EXT. MIDDLE-CLASS HOME -- MINUTES LATER -- NIGHT.

Box strides across the yard, covering his cell phone and

muttering to ONE OF HIS MEN as it’s being cordoned off with

yellow evidence tape.

BOX:

I want this place scrubbed. I don’t

care if it’s f***ing soy sauce. I

want every drop, every fibre I.D.’ed.

And find his god-damn car!

The cop nods and walks off. Box returns to his phone call-

BOX (cont’d)

Ma’am, please try again. Check

every folder.

63.

FIND MARSH, standing on the perimeter of the activity, at the

sidewalk, thinking, looking up and down the block.

Gradually, she sees something that catches her attention.

Across the street sits a Volkswagen bus. She frowns and

starts to walk over to it.

FOLLOW MARSH, getting closer and closer to it, when-

.

BOX (O.S.) (cont’d)

Jennifer!

She turns. There’s Box, pocketing his phone and approaching

with his notebook. She meets him half way.

In the background, we see NEIGHBORS held back by police tape.

Among them is Owen, chatting quietly with neighbors, his eyes

never leaving Marsh.

When Marsh reaches Box-

BOX (cont’d)

Carver’s wife says he was contacted

about the train set through the C-

Span website. In his bio, he

mentions he’s a collector. She’s

trying to find the e-mail.

MARSH:

It’ll trace to a dead server. Who

owns the house?

BOX:

Tom Park...60’s, a widower. Right

now, he’s visiting his mother for

her birthday. In South Korea.

MARSH:

Who would know that?

BOX:

Only a few thousand people. Park

owns a local market. He closes it

down for two weeks every July so he

can make the trip.

.

MARSH:

Our guy must be a customer.

64.

BOX:

We’ll see what Park can tell us.

Meanwhile, we’ll conduct a “neigh

borhood.” Looks like a pretty

close-knit community. Maybe

somebody saw something.

He walks away.

MARSH:

John?

Box stops and turns.

MARSH (cont’d)

Andrew Kinross...a Georgetown

sophomore...died June 2nd. The

Coroner said it was accidental. I

don’t think so. See if he’ll take

a second look.

BOX:

You got it.

A warm beat. He goes back to work. Marsh stands there,

reflecting. Then she remembers. She turns around. The VW

bus has vanished. She isn’t sure what to make of it.

EXT. HIGHWAY -- MORNING.

Cars move in both directions as far as the eye can see.

.

RADIO TALK JOCK (O.S.)

Hey, I just took a look once the

guy was dead. I wanna hear from

one of you sickos who helped kill

the poor bastard!

INT. MARSH’S MOVING SUV -- SAME -- MORNING.

Marsh drives in rush hour, her face unreadable.

RADIO TALK JOCK (O.S.)

Folks, the board just lit up like a

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