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crctv-intelligence · 7 years

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S1, E3: "A Covert Affair"

(Scene 1: British Embassy in Washington D.C.) A man in a black hoodie walks with his back to the camera. When the camera cuts to a side profile shot, we see him walking with a black gate in the background. That black gate is surrounding a massive brick building. As he nears one of the less populated corners, his backpack slips off of his left shoulder and drops to the ground. A guard turns and begins shouting at he man when he sees this. "Hey! Hey you can't leave bags unattended!" the guard yells as he begins to walk in the direction of the man. When the man doesn't stop moving, the guard begins to jog and eventually run. "Hey! Stop! I said stop!" The man just continues to run away. Once the guard reaches the backpack, he contemplates between chasing and checking on the bag. He stops byte backpack and squats down beside it. Very cautiously, he begins to pull open the zipper. The camera cuts to a closeup on his face before the contents can be seen. "Call the bo-" before his sentence can be finished, there's a loud explosion that instantly kills the guard and shreds the gate as if it were made of aluminum foil instead of steel. The building ends up with a big, gaping hole in the corner of it, threatening its structural integrity. The sound of crackling fire, bricks crumbling and sirens in the distance are all that we have as the scene fades to black. (OPENING CREDITS: Created by Candice Cornell) (Scene 2: Hotel Bar) Alexander is seated at the bar, hunched over his bourbon as the businessmen, lobbyists and politicians all come and go around him. "So what brings you here?" a girl suddenly asks him. Not any girl. The camera shifts focus from him the girl sitting a few barstools away. That girl is Mikayla Winters. "Me?" he asks when he looks up. "Yeah, you don't look like a politician or anything. Tourist?" she continues to question. "Uh," Alexander brings a finger to his chin as he ponders. "It's something like that." He tries to go back to his drink, but Mikayla has already closed the gap and taken the empty stool right beside him. "I'm Erica," she says as she offers a cordial smile and a handshake. No ones poker face trumped Mikayla's on the farm and she's proving that right now in the field. "Greg," he says as he offers coy smile of his own in return while granting her the desired handshake. "Can I buy you a drink?" she poses it as a question but her tone makes the offer seem more like a demand. "Shouldn't I be buying you the drink, Miss Erica?" Mikayla scoffs and shakes her head. "In 20th Century Britain, maybe. This is 21st Century America. Welcome to the land of feminism and equality. I'll buy you a damn drink if I want to." Her confidence is risky in the spy game, it could easily scare off assets and targets alike. Fortunately, she analyzed her prey correctly and his alpha male persona is more prone to fight instead of flight. "And if I want to buy you a drink?" Mikayla sighs as she snatches the short, narrow black straw from his glass and begins to play with it. "Normally I would decline but I guess for you, I can make an exception." A brief time lapse occurs until the light coming in from the windows is closer to dusk than afternoon. Alexander is visibly drunk, while Mikayla isn't quite there yet. "Hey," the British man says as he lays his hand on her forearm. "Why don't we get out of here." Mikayla bites down on her bottom lip before nodding a growling lowly. "Okay," she says, making sure she keeps the fish hooked. "I like the sound of that." They exit the hotel bar and approach the elevators. Before they can even get to them, Mikayla is veering off course and pulling Alexander into the men's bathroom. She stumbles backwards and begins to tug at his sweater, their lips clashing in a barrage of frantic kisses. Mikayla yelps as Alexander hoists her up onto the countertop, her legs separating to allow him in-between them. Her eyelashes flutter while her hands work to slide her panties down her legs. "Come on, show me how the Brits do it." Alexander moans quietly as he begins to fidget with his belt. Once his pants lower enough to expose his bare ass, he leans forward into Mikayla and pops his hips once, her eyes widening and a low growl escaping her lips to indicate that what the audience thinks is happening is really happening. She wraps one hand around his neck, the other around his waist as he continues to thrust forward, crafty camerawork making the fake sex appear more real than typical cable TV. "Oh shit, don't stop," she gasps out as her hand works into the back of his pants pocket. She uses that placement to force him into her more, or so it seems. She withdraws her hands quickly and pushes him off. "Oh, god. I think I'm gonna be sick!" She rushes into the bathroom stall and slams the door shut. The room key in her hand causes her to smirk. She tucks it quickly into her bra before dropping to her knees and shoving her fingers into her mouth to induce vomiting. Disgusting, yet effective. "Are you alright?" He asks as his knuckles rap on the door. "Yeah," she swipes her nose and mouth with the back of her hand. "I feel a lot better now. Why don't you head back to the bar and order a water and some warm pretzels and I'll meet you there once I get it all ou-" the word 'out' is cut off by another vomiting fit. "Okay... You sure you're alright?" he asks again, his ego clearly affected. "Yeah. I'll meet you at the bar.. just don't go up without me!" she pleads, trying to sound as drunk and needy as possible. Alexander laughs as he heads for the door. "I won't," he tells her before exiting. Once Mikayla hears him leave, she sneaks out herself. Passing the front desk, she snatches four mints from the big glass bowl before slipping into the nearby elevator. Once inside, she runs her phone's camera over the keycard until she has a room number displayed on the screen. She commits it to memory before getting off on the fifth floor. She walks down the hall until she sees 507 and slips the keycard into the slot. Stepping inside, her eyes immediately scan the room. Aside from the bed with the unruly sheets, nothing seems particularly out of place. The television is still on, the channel set to CNN. Random political nonsense is being discussed, as usual, so it doesn't distract Mikayla from her objective. Find something that ties the man from the airport to the attacks. The man that was just between her legs. That can't be a distraction either. Mikayla begins in the bedroom, pulling open the closet door and sorting through each piece of clothing. Nothing. Moving on to the suitcase, the brunette unzips the red bag before flipping through one article at a time. Still, she finds nothing suspicious. She wants to continue looking, but the news anchor on TV diverts her attention. "Breaking News out of Washington DC. Just one day after the deadly shooting on a group of veteran bikers from both the United States and the UK, there has been some kind of explosion outside of the British Embassy. While it is not yet confirmed, early reports and first responders are saying it appears to have been a bomb." The scene cuts to Alexander, seated in the bar with uneaten pretzels and a water, with the same news broadcast on the bar TV. "Oh, fuck," he curses under his breath while the anchors relay the same information to him that Mikayla is receiving upstairs. "Police have confirmed at least three dead, one of them was a security guard who was standing directly next to the source of the blast." Cutting back to Mikayla, her jaw is dropped while the news continues. Her phone rings, and she answers it. "Go for Waters." "Are you seeing this?" Jo asks, a cut scene showing her in her office with her fingers snapping at a nearby tech analyst to turn the TV volume up. "Yeah, I see it." "Where are you right now?" "Uh..." Mikayla sighs as she looks around. "Greg's hotel room?" Jo's eyebrow raises and her mouth opens like she's going to speak, then closes again as she thinks better of it. "We'll discuss how you found your way into there later. Find anything?" Mikayla groans with dissatisfaction. "Not yet, the guy's room looks like any other normal hotel room. No red flags. No-" she stops speaking when she hears a rustle at the door. "Shit," she whistles into the phone. "What?" Mikayla slips into the bathroom where she deems it's safer to speak. "I think he's back from the bar and I have his room key." "Why do you have his room key?" Jo asks inquisitively. "How about we work out an extraction plan now and discuss that later?" "Fine," Jo begins. "Sit tight and hide as best you can, I'll text you with details as I get them. Extraction team has already been dispatched." "Thank you." Mikayla ends the call and keeps her phone in hand while walking into the almost empty closet. It's mostly empty except for one coat. She leans up against the coat, her eyes opening wide when she feels a bulge in it. Her hand slips in and withdraws another cell phone. "Burner phone?" Mikayla asks herself aloud. She hears a keycard being slipping into the slot before a quiet beep accompanies it and the door outside swings open. She keeps the phone pocketed, her phone in the opposite pocket while she prepares for whatever she has to do. Through the narrow crack, she watches as Alexander (the man she thinks is Greg) remove his sweater and toss it onto a nearby chair. The British blonde sighs as the TV reporting continues on, his hands slipping into his back pocket. Just then, the burner phone begins ringing in Mikayla's pocket. There's a closeup on her face, a look of frustration appearing where a look of fear would be on any normal person in her situation. She withdraws the phone and slips it back into the coat pocket before pressing herself up against the opposite wall in the closet. Alexander walks over and cautiously opens the door before reaching in to retrieve it. With his arm inside, Mikayla instinctively grabs onto his forearm and yanks him inward. His forehead smacks off the door that's still closed before he falls to the floor, stunned. Mikayla kicks open the door that's still closed, causing it to hit him in the head again before knocking him completely onto his back. This is not standard procedure, but desperate times call for desperate measures. As long as she retrieves the burner phone, she should have enough intel to justify the kill. If she can't take him alive, that is. Mikayla leaps out of the closet and mounts the dazed man, a fist formed and raised above his head. She swings down, but he catches it in his palm. She looks shocked, and when he rolls them over and pins her down with his body, that look remains. "Who are you?" he demands, his voice much deeper than it was in the bar. "I was about to ask you the same question," she says before his forearm comes down across her throat, a more intimidating way of pinning. "I will ask you one more ti-" Mikayla doesn't let him finish. Her legs wrap around his waist and she locks her ankles before squeezing with as much force as she possibly can. Distracted, his forearm withdraws from her throats and she uses it as an opportunity to head butt him off of her. He rolls to the side after the impact, and she staggers to her feet before delivering a swift kick to his stomach, effectively knocking the wind out of him. Or so she thinks. She's about to kick him again when he grabs her ankle and turns his body, forcing her down to the ground roughly. Her face smacks off the carpeting, her nose bleeding instantly. The scuffle continues when there's a knock at the door. "Room service!" A voice calls. "Did you order room service to my room?" he asks as his eyes bare down on her. "Yeah, I snuck into your room to order fucking room service," she whispers back sarcastically. There's the familiar beep of the door with unlocked before it opens and a man in a room service suit enters. "Nobody move, I'm calling the police," he says before removing his phone and dialing three digits. (COMMERCIAL BREAK) (Scene 3: D.C. Police Station) Mikayla is seated at a desk in the police station, hands cuffed in her lap while she's being booked. "Looks like you beat the crap out of him," the female officer says with a slight hint of satisfaction in her voice. "A girl's gotta protect herself, right?" Mikayla responds almost proudly. "So, Miss Walker, would you like to press charges against him?" The officer is going through the motions but she's clearly opted to side with Mikayla, operating as Erica Walker. College student. "I don't think that will be necessary. You saw his nose, I think he's learned his lesson," Mikayla presses her thumb down onto an ink pad before doing the same thing again onto a piece of paper in a binder. The cleaners are going to have a fun time manipulating those. "I heard he's not pressing charges against you either, which is good," the officer says. "Means you'll be out of here within an hour." Mikayla smiles with satisfaction, her fingers being wiped with a wet towel once she's completed her fingerprinting. On the other side of the station, Alexander is undergoing the same process. "So you tried to hit a girl then let her beat your ass? Bet you feel real macho right now," a buff, male officer says while roughly pressing Alexander's thumb into the notepad. "She broke into my hotel room. The girl is clearly dealing with some obsession issues." "You fucked her, didn't you?" the officer asks without any form of filter or segway. "Maybe a little bit..." Alexander admits. The officer just rolls his eyes before shoving Alexander back into his seat. "Stay here. If she's not pressing charges you'll be free to go soon. Don't move. Don't think. Don't even breathe," the officer demands before walking away. Alexander seems irritated with the treatment, albeit the furthest from the worst treatment he's suffered. A time lapse occurs and Mikayla takes her phone and wallet back from someone begins a glass window before exiting out into the sunset. Her phone rings, Jo awaiting an answer on the other end. "Walker," she answers, still using her alias until she gets some distance from the police station. "What the hell happened to you?" Jo asks, her voice somewhere between concerned and furious. "I kind of got arrested, but I'm out now. So." "Please tell me that's a joke..." Mikayla shakes her head and sighs. "Unfortunately not, but the good news is I got something for you," Mikayla says, a smirk on her face as she pats the bulge of the burner phone in her coat pocket. "I'll take that," a voice that is certainly not Jo's says as a hand slips into her pocket. Mikayla spins around to see Alexander smirking and waving the burner phone in his hand. "It's not nice to take things that don't belong to you. Americans need to be taught that again, apparently." "Is that him?" Jo asks quietly. "Uh-huh," Mikayla responds with an unnecessary nod of her head. "Can you handle it or should I send someone in?" "No, I got it." Mikayla ends the call and forces her phone into her back pocket. "So do you want to hand that back or should I just kick your Queen worshipping ass again, pretty boy?" Mikayla places her hands on her hips and stands up as straight as she can, doing everything possible to make her appearance more intimidating. Alexander shakes his head before taking a firm hold on the phone and moving his face in close to hers. "Or we could just do that thing from the bathroom again. Minus the part where you threw up everywhere." "Who are you? I mean who are you really?" Mikayla asks, her eyes narrowed so her eyelids form narrow slits. "I'm an author. This is the phone I use to get in touch with my publishers," Alexander says, sounding incredibly convincing despite the obvious lie. "Bullshit," Mikayla spits. "No author has a business phone for one. And two all of those incoming calls originated from the U.K. Why are you in America if you're dealing with British publishers?" Alexander appears shocked. The girl is good. "Burner phone, highly trained fighter, decent liar and the ability to get out of jail even after assaulting a college girl in the nation's capital? You've got pull. MI-6? I guess they're calling you SIS now, technically. Am I right?" Mikayla's eyelashes are fluttering not in a flirtatious way but in a 'you know I'm fucking right' kind of way. "Knowledgeable of intelligence gathering agencies, a decent fighter, a girl who dodges questions instead of answering in a lie. CIA rookie?" Crescendoing music plays before another time hop occurs placing Mikayla and Alexander along the reflecting pool where she was at the end of the last episode. "So that's the British way? You just fuck the intel out of your assets?" Mikayla questions. "You'd be surprised how honest people become when the ecstasy kicks in," Alexander whispers into Mikayla's ear. "Didn't work on me, I made myself throw up just to get you off of me," Mikayla scoffs with disgust. "Oh really? Because I'm pretty sure I still got the truth out of you. Sometimes it's extended release of the truth instead of instant gratification." Mikayla's eyes roll before her hands shove at his chest, forcing him to scoot away on the bench. "Such a violent little girl," the Brit notes. "You haven't seen anything yet. I went easy on you," she says confidently. "Had the stupid room service guy not shown up-" "You mean your extraction plant," Alexander corrects her, reminding her of his knowledge of how exactly these things work. "Yeah, him. Had he not shown up, I could've snapped your pretty little neck. No more crumpets for you unless they're through a feeding tube." Alexander rests his arm on the back of the bench behind Mikayla's shoulders. "You know, I've gotta say. I've met a lot of CIA Operatives and none have been as rude as you." A chuckle escapes the brunette's lips, her eyes casting down into her lap. "Yeah. That always was my biggest criticism on the farm." "The farm?" Mikayla grins cheekily. "Well what'd'ya know? Something that mister know-it-all didn't know about. I'm shocked." "We don't train with pigs and cattle where I'm from. It's very dangerous." "Okay, well it's not actually a farm." Mikayla shifts on the bench as she prepares to explain the misconception. "It's old farm land acquired by the government with these massive training facilities built on it. Then there's housing for trainees. It's actually really cool." "So, you went to an over-glorified university on your taxpayers dime. And to think your people rebelled against my people for bad taxation. My how the mighty have fallen." Mikayla, overwhelmed with patriotism, grabs the blonde male by the face and brings him in close to hers. "I've had enough of the comparisons and the put downs. It's been fun, but I've got big kid things to do. So if you want to piss in the sandbox, go back to your double decker busses, giant ass ferris wheel and dusty looking clock tower. If you want to help, have your Director get in touch with mine and maybe we can work something out. Otherwise, nice meeting you." Mikayla wanders off, leaving Alexander alone while the sun set reflects off the pool. (COMMERCIAL BREAK) (Scene 4: CIA Heaquarters) Mikayla enters CIA Headquarters, a smug look on her face. There's confidence in her steps, but her chin-to-the-sky walk is interrupted when Garrett grabs her forearm and pulls her into a tiny hallway off of the main floor. "Jesus, Garrett. What the hell-" "Jo is pissed. Not like oh she's kind of sulking and upset. Like she took my headset and threw it across the room," the intensity in Garrett's eyes indicate that this is no joke. "What? Why?" "Because for some reason she thinks you fucked your target..." Garrett pauses to read Mikayla's reaction. When her eyes divert away from his, his jaw drops. "Because you did fuck him. Oh my God, are you freaking kidding me?" Mikayla's fingertip presses to Garrett's lips. "Okay, Gar, I'm gonna need you to dial it down about ten notches." "You fucked him?" Garrett asks again, his lips moving against Mikayla's finger. "What difference does it make? I found out what I needed to know. He's no longer a person of interest. Let's move on!" Mikayla twirls around and exits the tiny hallway. Garrett stands stunned for a moment before beginning to follow her. "Jo is going to be furious! Mikayla, what the hell were you thinking?" Mikayla swallows hard before stopping in her tracks and turning to face this man she has some kind of history with, a stern look on her face. "Garrett, thank you for your assistance on this op but from now on I think I'm going to work with a different analyst." "Mik, come on," Garrett begins to whine. To no avail. Mikayla continues to walk into the main office. Begin firestorm. "Waters! My office. Now." Every analyst and operative in the room instantly silence their conversations to cast their eyes on the rookie in the room. Mikayla looks down at the floor as she hurries into Joanne's office, the door slamming shut behind her. "What in God's name were you thinking?! Hooking up with a potentially dangerous target in a hotel bathroom? Are you stupid or insane? No, no. Don't answer that. You must be completely out of your fucking mind. In all my years overseeing this division I have NEVER encountered someone so reckless, especially this early into their career." Mikayla just bites her lip and keeps her head down while the shouting continues. "I mean what. Were you just horny or did you actually think this was a good idea?" "You know what, Jo, I did," Mikayla's head suddenly snaps up and her quick and unexpected response stuns Jo into silence. "It worked. I got his key card. I got into his room. I found the burner phone. Was he who we thought he was? No. Good. Now we can focus our attention on someone else that is actually worth our time instead of wasting it targeting and tracking foreign operatives who are on our side." Mikayla takes a deep breath after that mouthful, her chest visibly rising and falling. "You done?" Jo asks. Mikayla simply nods. "Then keep your pussy in your pants. Taxpayers aren't paying you to get laid, they're paying you to protect them. Get the hell out of my office." Mikayla turns and begins to exit. "And Waters," Jo starts, causing Mikayla to stop moving once more. "If this ever happens again, I will have you transferred to a desk job at Homeland so fast they won't even have time to take the plastic off of your fancy new swivel chair." Mikayla nods once more before finally exiting the room. All eyes are on her once more. "What the hell are you all looking at? There's terrorists targeting us and you're all worried about me? Do your fucking job," a few scoff, others laugh and yet some smile in admiration at the feisty side that just came out of their new coworker. "So, are you fired?" Garrett asks, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. "What are you, a ninja?" Mikayla asks. "Stealth tactics was the one thing I excelled at on the farm, remember?" This actually manages to get the brunette girl to smile and laugh. "Yeah, I remember." "So, are we still working on this together?" he asks, his voice half pleading and half hopeful. Mikayla sighs. "Fine. You have one day to find me a new lead otherwise I'm hopping on a plane and doing this on my own. Got it?" GARRETT gives an acute nod of his head. "Understood, your majesty." Mikayla cringes. "Oh, God. And please no British references. I'm nauseous enough already." Mikayla walks in front of the camera before disappearing out of frame. Garrett hums. "Really? I think you kind of like him," the buff nerd smirks as he exits off screen behind her. (Scene 5: MI-6 Headquarters) Amelia pokes the swinging pendulum on her desk with her pen, uninterested with the daily news report up on the screen. A knock on her office door causes her to toss the pen carelessly before sitting back in her seat. "Come in!" she shouts. Alexander enters, a smug look on his face. "Someone either got laid or got intel," she sings happily in a high pitched voice. "Eh, you know. A little bit of this and a little bit of that." Amelia leans forward in her chair, her hands folding on the desk. "So, what did you find out about her?" There's an eagerness to her posture now, her fingertips tapping the backs of her hands. "Well, she's pretty flexible." Amelia narrows her eyes. "Not Waters, Joanne." Dramatic music as the camera zooms in on Alexander's face. "Nothing yet," he confesses. The camera cuts back to a medium shot on Amelia as she props her feet up onto her desk. "Well then I guess you better fuck her again, huh?" CREDITS..... Mikayla Waters ... Izzy Montoya Alexander Fairborn ... Asher Valentine Garrett Parker ... Benjamin Perry Joanne Jones ... Candice Cornell Amelia Roberts ... Xanetia Petrova Voiceover: "Next week on INTELLIGENCE." Mikayla and Garrett are staring at the television screen while the news anchor speaks over an image of the British Embassy. "It has now been confirmed that the explosion at the British Embassy was in fact the result of a bomb. We are now getting reports that a similar explosion has happened at the British and American Embassy's in Budapest." Garrett swivels in his chair. "Looks like you're going to Budapest." We cut to a scene of Mikayla walking along the streets of Budapest, a man disguised in a black hoodie trailing behind her. After trying to dodge him down an alley, she ends up trapped in a dead end. The man, with his head downcast so he can't be seen, begins to lift the hood when the red text "INTELLIGENCE" cuts in over a black background and ultimately ends the preview.

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