"X Tracers" Screenplay written by Peter Layton

FADE IN

EXT. LAKE BASIN - DAY
Behind "No Trespassing US Military" signs on an electric fence, a desert salt
pan stretches off into forever. Distant buildings shimmer on the horizon.

EXT. BUILDING - DAY
A dozen Army Jeeps slam to a stop in front of a small, dusty building.
Heavily armed, flak-jacketed soldiers leap out and storm inside.

INT. BUILDING - DAY
A burly, tough-looking CAPTAIN leads his troops to an office door marked
"Patrick Tester. Project Head Manager". He raps sharply, shoves the door open.

CAPTAIN
Sir! We're here!

INT. OFFICE - DAY
The Captain frowns down at the expensive shoes poking out from the side of the
office desk that ferret-faced PATRICK TESTER, 40ish, cowers behind.

CAPTAIN
Mister Tester? You okay?

Cautiously, Tester pokes his head up, then jumps to his feet, cell phone in hand.

TESTER
Yes, Captain! Just dropped my cell!
(barking into cell)
Hang tough! I'm coming in with backup!
Don't move until--

The cell suddenly RINGS. It was never on. Tester was barking into dead air.
Grimacing sourly, caught in a lie, Tester gruffly snaps it on.

TESTER
What? Yeah, they just got here. We're
on our way.

INT. HALLWAY - DAY
Tester strides quickly down a hallway with the Captain and soldiers.

TESTER
Are your men Level Five security
cleared, Captain?

CAPTAIN
Yes, sir.

TESTER
Because this is Level Six.

CAPTAIN
Level Six? I've never heard of Level Six.

TESTER
That's right. And you still haven't.

Tester leads the soldiers to a steel-bolted iron door with a sign marked
"Hominid/Ichthyological L-6 Testing".

TESTER
Ignore that sign! Forget that sign!

Placing his hand on a flat electronic fingerprint scanner pad, Tester opens his eyes
wide for a red laser beam that traces his eyeballs.

TESTER
A test subject is trying to escape.

COMPUTER VOICE
Name and today's Alpha Codeș
you have four seconds.

TESTER
Patrick Tester. Omega Delta Beta Five.

Tester's voiceprint of those words freezes on a small screen. A second voiceprint
superimposes itself over the original and matches it.

VOICE
Voice, retina, and fingerprint scans
matched and confirmed.

Three massive steel bolts slam back, unlocking the iron door.

TESTER
Captain, you should know that a
Level Six subject is abnormally—

There's a ROAR of rage from inside, then WHAM! a fist the shakes the iron door.
Tester instantly dives for the floor, then quickly scrambles up in embarrassment.

TESTER
Watch your step! The floor's slippery!

CAPTAIN
Napalm and liquid nitro! Let's go!

A soldier rushes up with a napalm flame-thrower weapon, a second with a liquid
nitrogen tank on his back hooked up to a hose.

TESTER
Good. The fire will hold him back and the
ice will slow him down enough to be tranked.

Slipping an Elephant Sedative needle the length of a railroad spike into a
bazooka sized tranquilizer rifle, Tester nods to the Captain.

TESTER
Brace yourself. This could get weird.

INT. LABORATORY - DAY

The iron lab doors blast open. The flame-thrower shoots an orange stream of fire
through an ice cloud of liquid nitrogen as the soldiers charge in.

CAPTAIN
Cease fire! Cease fire! He's gone, sir!

Leading from the rear, Tester cautiously enters the deserted, trashed lab room.

TESTER
Gone? That's imposs--

Tester stops dead at the sight of the ripped up floor leading down at an exposed
sewage pipe with a hole gouged out on top. The Captain stares down at the thick
stream of foul dark water flowing inside.

CAPTAIN
Sir, that sewage line goes all the way
to the mountains. He's dead for sure.

TESTER
No, Captainșnot for sure.

INT. SEWAGE PIPE - DAY

In the dark pipeline, a monstrous shadowy figure swims rapidly underwater.
Arms extended straight out, his legs whip and thrash together in powerful dolphin
kicks.

EXT. SEWAGE LAKE - DAY
At the edge of a large man-made sewage lake is a very lonely guardhouse.

INT. GUARDHOUSE – DAY
A muttering GUARD sits in a stifling hot guardhouse, sourly scanning a tabloid
newspaper story headlined "Big Foot is Alive claims Elvis Clone".

GUARD
Better story would be 'bout a guard who
goes frigging insane guarding a frigging
lake of crap in the middle of--

RING! A ringing phone startles the guard into quickly answering.

GUARD
Sewage Facility Secu—what? Theș
the sewage pipe, Captain? Yes, sir!

Grabbing a pair of binoculars, the guard trains them on an exposed pipeline's
metal grille mouth. The bars are mangled, ripped apart.

GUARD
Holy--!

A dark shape shoots up right in front of the binoculars. The guard drops them,
stares at the bullet-headed SHARK MAN, made monsterous by a surgically
grafted thick cartilage exo-skeleton.

INT. OFFICE - DAY

The Captain hands Tester his cell phone.

TESTER
Now, son, listen to me carefullyș

INT. GUARDHOUSE – DAY
Tester's voice comes over the phone now lying on the floorșthe floor that the
guard's kicking feet dangle above.

TESTER'S VOICE
șthis escapee will look very unusual.

Squinting through cold, black eyes, the Shark Man croaks up at the guard.

SHARK MAN
Car keys! Now!

Purpled-faced, the choking guard tosses down his car keys. With one hand, the
ridge-spined Shark Man carries the guard to a chair and drops him into it.

TESTER'S VOICE
He's freakishly strong, hyper-aggressiveș

Ripping a locked shotgun off the wall, the Shark Man twists it like a pretzel
around the guard, pinning him in his chair, and then heads to the door. The guard
bumps a spring loaded desk drawer with his knee, sliding it open. There's a
handgun inside.

TESTER'S VOICE
șand a homicidally insane killer.

Fumbling to lift the gun, the guard drops it. The Shark Man whips around. His
neck gills flare out as he walks towards the trapped, terrified guard.

GUARD
Sorry, I'm sorry! Hey, c'mon, man,
I was just doing my job!

SHARK MAN
Your scientists were just doing their job
when they turned me into a freak. Implants,
transplants, bio-mech grafts, shark DNAș
look what they did to me. Look!

GUARD
Hey, pal, don't take it out on me, I hate
this frigging place too…no need to bite
my head off.

Poor choice of words. The Shark Man lunges forward, his mouth snapping open.

INT. OFFICE – DAY
Ear pressed to the phone, Tester's eyes open wide at the sudden, cut-off scream.
Walking quickly away, he hits a single digit on his own cell and mutters tersely.

TESTER
We need the freak tracer. Find Tom
Sloan.

EXT. RURAL GAS STATION - DAY
At a gas station pay phone out in the country, FBI agent SUSAN HOLME,
busty and feisty, groans into the phone.

SUSAN
Tom Sloan is nuttier than squirrel
poop.

Susan peeks around the corner at a car hitched to a horse trailer. TOM SLOAN,
mid-30's, unshaved, dressed like a bum on Hawaiian holiday, sits in the car
running a blinking metal gadget around its interior.

SUSAN
I think the Bureau gave me this
assignment just to drive me crazy.
Now, what did you dig up on him?

INT. APARTMENT - DAY
A computer NERD hunches over a laptop screen showing US Patent Office info.

NERD
Susan, at first I couldn't find anything.
Taxes, credit cards, social security…
nada…he was the invisible man.

EXT. RURAL GAS STATION - DAY
Susan listens intently to the nerd over the line.

NERD'S VOICE
Then I back-doored a worm hole at
the Patent office.

INT. RENTAL CAR - DAY

Over a tiny ear-piece, the scruffy Tom eavesdrops in on the conversation.

NERD'S VOICE
He has two dozen patents on inventions
all classified top secret. My best guess...
your mister Tom Sloan is some kind of
black op special weapons genius.

EXT. RURAL GAS STATION - DAY
Susan's eyes widen at that news. She sneaks another peek at Tom.

SUSAN
Genius? The guy babbles like an idiot.
Okay, thanks. You sure you won't get
in trouble doing this?

NERD'S VOICE
Naw, only way I'd get caught is if the
government's watching every computer
in the country all the time. Listen, Susan,
where are you?

SUSAN
Oh, about 10 miles from--
The line abruptly goes dead.

INT. RENTAL CAR - DAY
Tom smiles thinly, listening to Susan's voice in his ear-piece.

SUSAN'S VOICE
Hello? Hello?

INT. APARTMENT - DAY
Frowning, tapping his hands-free head-set, the nerd shrugs, then clicks on the exit
symbol on his laptop. Nothing happens. His computer is frozen. The front door
bursts open. A pair of grim-faced government agents march in, guns drawn.

EXT. RURAL GAS STATION - DAY
Behind the wheel, Tom aims a madly beeping device towards a distant barn. As
Susan walks up, Tom hides the device, rolls up the window, and locks the
window.

SUSAN
Tom, I don't care what that thing is.
Now open the door, please.

Rolling the window down a bit, Tom babbles like the Rain Man after an espresso.

TOM
His spoor is strongest there. Spock
spores and spoors in the straw...
hey, DNA in the hay.

SUSAN
Uh…yeah, whatever. Move over...

Exhaling wearily, Susan fishes the car keys out. Tom aims a tiny wire-coiled
gadget at them and the keys fly out of Susan's hand onto the gadget. Cackling,
Tom plucks the keys off of it.

TOM
Hee hee hee…I'm positive this
won't be negative. We were poles
apart, but still attracted.

Gunning the motor, Tom peels out the car and trailer, just missing a passing truck
and races down the highway in the wrong lane.

SUSAN
Tom! Tom! Stop! Come back!

Susan watches helplessly as Tom makes a sharp turn, plows through a wire fence,
and cuts through a corn field, the trailer behind him bouncing wildly. She whips
out her cell phone, futilely presses the ON button again and again.

SUSAN
Damn this thing! All day long…

Flashing her badge, Susan rushes up to an open-mouthed, astonished gas pump jockey.

SUSAN
FBI agent! I need your vehicle!

The young country bumpkin just stares blankly at Susan.

SUSAN
Hey, farm boy, wake up! How did
you get to work this morning?

Mutely, the gas pump boy points to a rusty, dilapidated three speed push bike.

INT. BARN – DAY
Clucking madly, chickens scatter inside a dark barn when the doors suddenly burst
open. Tom strolls in, holding a beeping, flashing, clicking gadget.

TOM
Fee fi fo fum...for a fee, I find a foe.

Putting his backpack down, Tom aims the gadget into a pile of hay off in a corner.

TOM
Straw man, tin man, don't be a
cowardly lyin' there. Let's go.

From out of the darkened corner, a huge, shadowy GIANT rises out of the hay...
rising higher and higher to almost eight feet tall with huge, bulging muscles.

GIANT
Please, Mister Sloan, don't take me
back...please.

TOM
Out of my hands, got to hand you over.
Hit the trail, into the trailer. Now.

Head down, the Giant begins shuffling unhappily out. Suddenly, a sweating,
huffing Susan throws down a rattle-trap bicycle in the doorway.

SUSAN
Tom, I've had it with--

Eyes snapping wide, Susan suddenly spots the towering giant.

SUSAN
God!

TOM
Nope. Science. Marching on...
two by two, rule of 52, 26 double
helix pairs, serpents entwined.

SUSAN
Enough! Be quiet!
(to giant)
Who are you? What's this about?

GIANT
You don't know? You're not Level Six?

TOM
Okay, Susan, nothing to see here, keep
moving to a daily movement--

SUSAN
Shut up! You're driving me crazy!
(to giant)
I'm Susan Holme, a FBI agent assigned
to assist Mr. Sloan here. I don't know
what he's doing or what--

GIANT
Please help me! He's a freak tracer!

From his backpack, Tom slips out a small device that looks like a mini-cross bow.

GIANT
They're Frankensteining me! Steroids,
human growth hormones, Olympic drugs...
my pituitary gland's as big as a bagel!

Sizing up the giant, Tom rapidly taps a few buttons on the device.

GIANT
Cyber-organic muscles, endorphin and
testosterone pumps, electric stimulators--

CHONK! Tom fires a metal bolt at the barn floor between the giant's legs.
WHAP! WHAP! Twin bars shoot out, slapping ankle locks on the giant,
jerking his legs apart. The center part of the bolt slides back to reveal a balled up
iron fist...directly under the giant's groin.

GIANT
Noooo...

Snick! The middle finger of the iron fist flips up. Then WHUMP! the spring-
loaded iron fist flies up in a nutcracker uppercut, toppling the giant like a
redwood. Tom mumbles over at the stunned Susan.

TOM
He was about to strike. I saw the signs.
So I gave him a strike on two balls.
I saved your life. How about a kiss?
Soft and wet, under my mistletoe…

SUSAN
Get away from me! You're a lunatic!

Susan whips out her gun, gestures at Tom.

SUSAN
Turn around, hands behind you!
You're under arrest for assault and
whatever else I can--

Two long shadows fall on Tom and Susan. Both turn, squinting at the two men
silhouetted against the blinding sunshine. With suits, ties, dark glasses, and ear
pieces, these men have "government agent" stamped all over them.

TOM
Oh God! They found me! How...?
Susan! Jezebel! You betrayed me!

Tom pushes a button on his crossbow weapon. The leg braces unsnap off the
giant's legs, the iron fist retracts, and the metal bolt zips back up into the barrel.

SUSAN
Oh, be quiet. I don't even know
who these people are.

As Tom desperately conceals his gadgets in his backpack, Susan shields her eyes
against the sunlight, watching a black helicopter land behind the two men. The
chopper has darkened windows, no markings, and makes little noise.

SUSAN
Let me see some ID.

The two unsmiling agents, FRICK and FRACK, step towards Susan.

FRICK
I'm Frick. He's Frack. This is who
we work for.

Both men flip out their wallets. They're empty. No badges, no ID.

FRACK
Agent Holme, these men don't exist.

FRICK
This incident never happened.

FRACK
If you report this officially, a dozen
co-workers will swear you were on
routine stake-out in another state.

FRICK
And your next drug test will test
positive for cocaine. Do you
understand?

SUSAN
Yeah, yeah…relax. At least just tell
me what the hell this man does.

Susan points at the scruffy, disheveled Tom guarding his backpack. Frick and
Frack take a long look at Tom, then back to Susan.

FRICK
What man?

FRACK
I don't see any man.

Frick and Frack impassively stare Susan down until she leaves, then they march
up to Tom. He backs away, clutching his precious backpack.

FRICK
Relax, Tom, we don't care about your
little gadgets.

FRACK
We just want you on that chopper. You have another assignment.

EXT. MOUNTAIN ROAD - DAY
Siren screaming, lights flashing, a police car chases an Army Jeep down a narrow,
winding mountain road.

INT. POLICE CAR - DAY
Twisting on the steering wheel, a COP speaks tersely into his mouth mike.

COP
Suspect is heading north...suspect
is not stopping...suspect is...

The cop squints, peers ahead intently, frowning.

COP
...wearing a mask, some kind of
disguise.

INT. ARMY JEEP - DAY
Webbed hands gripping the wheel, the Shark Man races the Jeep on the steep
corners and curves. He peers ahead to the river at the bottom of the hill.

EXT. MOUNTAIN ROAD - DAY

The Jeep flies off the road, soars into the air and splashes into the water. The
police car slides to a stop, the cop leaping out, yelling into his mouth mike.

COP
He's 10-50'ed in the water!

The cop dives into the river, swims down to the empty Jeep. He doesn't see a dark
shadow gliding up behind him. On the river surface, the water froths and bubbles,
then the cop suddenly shoots up to the surface, his hands cuffed behind him. The
Shark Man drags him onto the river bank.

SHARK MAN
Don't worry, I'll tell them where
you are.

The Shark Man hops into the police car and roars off.

INT. BUILDING CORRIDOR - DAY
Open-mouthed, Tester watches Tom being escorted by two soldiers down a
corridor. Tom wears a deep frown and nothing else...he's butt-naked.

TESTER
Uh...hello, Tom. Good job on the giant.

TOM
Microscopic fiber optics in polyester
threads, that's how you found me.
Never again. No nudes is good news.

Rolling his eyes, Tester shakes his head. Tom runs his hands over his bare skin.

TOM
Sub-coetaneous tracers...you get under
my skin. I'll be checking all my orifices.
Friends like you, I need enemas.
Sighing, Tester holds a dossier towards Tom.

TESTER
I have another freak tracer job.
Very urgent, top priority.

TOM
Who's my partner? Susan? She's feisty.
I want her like a dog wants a long leg.

TESTER
Ah, no, not Susan. Someone else.
Someone more suited to your...ah...
special needs.

INT. COUNSELOR'S OFFICE - DAY

A little boy sits mutely in an office filled with plush dolls and children's toys.
AMANDA BLAKE, early 20's, slim and attractive, sits patiently across from
the silent child.

AMANDA
Cat got your tongue, John?

Amanda slips her hand into a black cat puppet.

AMANDA
It happens to everybody, see?

The black cat puppet scoots up to Amanda's mouth, grabs her tongue.

AMANDA
Uck, thith tathe ucky!

The little boy snickers, smiles slightly.

AMANDA
Ahh, so...you can--

Her office door suddenly opens. A co-worker quickly takes the boy out as the
stone-faced Frick and Frack march in, flashing official government badges.

FRICK
Amanda Blake? Your country
needs you. If you refuse, you will
be charged with sedition.

FRACK
As will your family, friends, and any
other co-conspirators. Let's go.

AMANDA
But I…but my work--

FRICK
--has been cancelled for a week.

FRACK
Death in the family. Aunt Edna.

AMANDA
I don't have--

Frick snaps an official document in Amanda's face.

FRICK
Here's the death certificate.

FRACK
Our condolences.

AMANDA
But...I can't just leave.

FRACK
You can. Your dogs Huffin and Puffin
have been taken to a kennel.

FRICK
Your dental appointment tomorrow
has been re-scheduled.

FRACK
It was only a cleaning.

Frack points out the window to the silently hovering black helicopter.

FRICK
Chopper's waiting, Miss Bingham.

FRACK
Your country thanks you.

Frick and Frack firmly escort the bewildered Amanda out the door.

EXT. LAKE - DAY
Soldiers guard the stolen police car abandoned on the bank of a large lake.
Powerboats crisscross the waters as an Army helicopter circles above.

INT. POWERBOAT - DAY
In the back of a powerboat, a TECHNICIAN drops a fiber-optic cable into the
water, then huddles over a green TV screen. A red target dot snaps on.

TECHNICIAN
(into mouth mike)
Hard contact! Drop the frogs!

INT. HELICOPTER - DAY
Hovering over the lake, the choppers drops a half-dozen scuba-tanked frogmen.

EXT. UNDERWATER - DAY
The frogmen plunge into the lake, snapping spears guns together, listening to the
technician through ear-pieces.

TECHNICIAN'S VOICE
He's six o'clock, straight below. He
can't hide, not with that transmitter
implanted in his leg.

The scuba divers flipper-kick down into deeper, darker water.

INT. POWERBOAT - DAY
On the technician's screen, six blinking dots move towards the red target dot.

TECHNICIAN
He's laying low on the bottom...
doesn't know we can track him.
Okay, he's moving!

INT. UNDERWATER - DAY
SWISH! SWISH! Explosive-tipped spears cut through the water, just missing the
twisting, thrashing Shark Man. The scuba divers speed after him in hot pursuit.

INT. POWERBOAT - DAY
Eyes glued to the TV monitor, the technician speaks tensely.

TECHNICIAN
Coming up fast, close to my position...
very close! He must be under--

CHUNK! CHUNK! CHUNK! Three spears rip into the powerboat, exploding
holes in the boat, splintering the hull near the technician's feet.

TECHNICIAN
Stop shooting! Stop shooting! He's
using the boat as--

The Shark Man shoots up to the surface right beside the stunned technician, stares
at the TV monitor for a second, then dives back down.

EXT. UNDERWATER - DAY
The Shark Man cuts through the water, following the fiber optic cable to a sonar
device at its end. CHOMP! One bite from his powerful jaws severs it.

INT. POWERBOAT - DAY
The TV monitor goes instantly dead black.

TECHNICIAN
Lost the signal, we're blind! Dive team
out! Chopper, ready the harpoon!

INT. HELICOPTER - DAY
The chopper crew unlocks and rolls a high tech torpedo to the edge.

TECHNICIAN'S VOICE
Divers are out! Squish the fish!

EXT. UNDERWATER - DAY
With a tremendous splash, the torpedo hits the water. Fins pop out and a rear
motor revs up. An antenna on the warhead tip swivels about, tracking.

INT. POWERBOAT - DAY
Watching the torpedo race through lake waters, the technician yells triumphantly.

TECHNICIAN
It's locked onto his transmitter!
Nothing can stop it now!

The technician's joy fades as the torpedo's wake slowly turns towards the boat.

TECHNICIAN
Hey, hey, hey! What the hell's--

The Shark Man suddenly pops up, tosses a small blood-stained radio receiver into
the boat, then mockingly salutes the technician before diving down.

TECHNICIAN
(to boat driver)
Jump! Jump!

Both technician and driver leap into the water an instant before the torpedo rips
into the powerboat in a giant fiery EXPLOSION.

EXT. LAKE SHORE - AFTERNOON - LATER
Distant choppers hover over the boat burning in the middle of the lake as the
Shark Man limps painfully into the shoreline woods, clutching a bleeding leg.

INT. OFFICE - AFTERNOON
Watching Amanda come down the hallway on a surveillance camera monitor,
Tester combs his hair, practices a smile. There's a sharp rap on the office door.

TESTER
Enter!

Amanda comes into the office. Tester rises to his feet with a fixed smile that fades
when he realizes Amanda is taller than him. He sits quickly.

TESTER
Please, have a seat. I'm Patrick Tester.
How was your flight here, Amanda?

AMANDA
Uh, where is here? Where am I?

Ignoring her questions, Tester opens up a dossier with intelligence reports and
long distance tele-photo lens shots of her at work and play.

TESTER
You have a degree in abnormal child
psychology...you work with autistic kids,
children with Tourettes syndrome, you're
single, attractive...you're perfect. Come
with me, please.

Patrick gets to his feet, standing very straight, almost on tip-toe.

INT. HALLWAY - AFTERNOON
Tester leads Amanda past rows of locked lab doors and drawn curtains.

TESTER
We do research on genetic disorders
here. Occasionally some patients
refuse our treatments and leave