-Open-
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Langley, Virgina
1994
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We find ourselves in a moderately sized conference room. The shades are closed shut, and there is a desk in the middle of the room. Three men sit around this table, Vega being one of them. He has a shaved head and is wearing a black button down shirt tucked into black slacks. They match his black boots and dark black sun glasses. In the center of the desk lies a projector, not yet turned on. Two large files lay next to it, closer to the two unknown men sitting across the table from Vega. One of these men breaks the silence.
Aren't you even gonna take your glasses off? We're indoors, you idiot.
Vega smiles.
You sit there with your forty dollar suit, twelve dollar jacket, four dollar tie, and a haircut you over payed for no matter what it costs and you somehow think I give a damn about your fashion sense?
You can't speak to me that way!
I believe I can, Agent Fields. I believe what I just did means I can pretty much talk to you any way I damn well please.
Vega diverts his attention to the other man sitting at the table.
That goes for you, too.
Show some respect.
Go to hell, Donovan.
Hey! If you don't start-
Start what!? Behaving? Showing some respect? Bowing down to... or bending over for you two? The way I see it... I can walk around this table, right up to you, and slap the taste out of your pathetic little mouth and there isn't a damn thing you'd be able to do about it.
You'd be locked up so fast-
Yeah!? For what? Homicide? I just killed a man on your orders! Orders that were not part of the original brief. Have fun explaining why the bullet found in the guy's skull matches a CIA issued handgun. A handgun, by the way, that only has your fingerprints on them, and not mine.
The men identified by Vega as Agent Fields and Agent Donovan sit there with stern looks on their faces. Fields eventually picks up one of the files from the desk.
We know more about you than you think...
Bull! You don't even know my real name.
Fields opens up the file and begins reading out loud.
Name: Jason Scott. Birthplace: West Nyack, New York. Father: Thomas Scott, 65. Mother: Dolores Scott, 62, maiden name Cooper. Blood Type, AB. Younger brother, James, deceased at age 24, pancreatic cancer. No other siblings. Graduated with a degree in engineering from Penn State University, attended Columbia University in New York City to get his masters degree, never finished. Missing since 1989. The missing persons case is still open in the NYPD, his whereabouts are still unknown.
Agent Fields slaps the file down in front of Vega as he and Agent Donovan stare him down. Vega's eyes are unreadable by the Agents since his shades keep them hidden. He slowly reaches for the file and looks inside it for himself. He is silent, speechless, as he continues to leaf through the many pages.
But that's not exactly true, is it...?
Vega doesn't say anything.
Jason Scott's whereabouts are no longer unknown, are they... Vega?
Vega's breathing seems to have gotten a bit more rapid, but still he does his best to remain calm.
Shame about your brother. Your parents must miss him dearly. Poor Thomas and Dolores. They lose one son to cancer and just plain lose they're other son? Heartbreaking, no?
How's about we do them a favor and put them out of their misery?
Hell, I know I wouldn't wanna live if my kids were gone like that. They probably just don't have the balls to do it themselves.
Vega removes his sunglasses, slowly. He gently places them on the table and breaks his silence with two simple words...
I'm listening.
We thought you would.
The next target is over seas. Lyon, specifically.
Why France?
Agent Donovan picks up the second file and tosses it over to Vega's side of the desk. He opens it up and his eyes widen slightly. He stares at this page intensely, trying to comprehend the situation.
You can't be serious.
We're the CIA, Scott, we don't joke around.
Vega takes a moment to look Agent Fields and Agent Donovan in the eyes, and speaks with a calm yet confused demeanor.
You want me to infiltrate Interpol Headquarters?
Yes. And in order to complete the mission, you're going to have to do it during the middle of the day.
In broad daylight?
Move with the shadows, Jason... like you always do.
See, this is why we chose you. You see in that first file, we have a strand of your hair and one lone finger print left at a couple of your biggest crime scenes. We believe that was no accident. You planted this evidence.
Why would I do that?
Because you're guilty. You feel guilty for abandoning your parents for this life you live. You have to live in complete anonymity in order to do what you do, so you let your parents think you're missing or dead while you get rich stealing from society's elite? Yeah, I'd feel guilty, too.
So you leave behind clues, knowing the cops are gonna start asking questions. You know you're not clean, Scott. You were arrested for Driving While Intoxicated in 1987. You knew the NYPD had your prints and DNA in the system, so you left clues. You knew the cops would talk to your parents, ask them if they know anything about this... and they wouldn't. But they'd have the hope that their son, Jason Scott, was still alive.
This is why we chose you. You're one of the most skilled thieves we've ever come across. I mean, you get into places that we haven't even known existed yet, and we're the damn CIA for Christ's sake. You're good, maybe the best, and we don't know how or why. But we know somewhere inside you lies a heart with compassion.
People in your line of work... they suffer from compassion. Just like you do, just like you will. You don't want your parents to suffer the same fate as your brother, do you? Deceased.
Vega bites his lips angrily before replying...
Who's the target?
Agent Fields turns on the projector. Vega looks up to the picture. It's someone he's never seen before at this point in his life. Someone he will come to know very well... very soon.
This woman. She works for Interpol, but we believe her to be leaking information to several European terrorist groups, all with plans on attacking US embassies around the world.
Her name is Alexis Escobar.
Vega stares at the picture on the projection screen intensely for a few moments.
Done.
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New York City
Present Day
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So that's how they forced you to infiltrate Interpol HQ.
Vega and Alexis are sitting next to each other on a couch in their living room. The room is large, hard wooden floors and white walls. The floor to ceiling windows show us that we're very high above street level in a tall New York City apartment building. Alexis has a big smile on her face as if she just received some great news, but Vega has a sour look on his face.
Not exactly.
What do you mean?
The CIA didn't exactly force me to do anything.
I don't follow.
They thought they were forcing me, but in reality, I had wanted to break into Interpol headquarters for quite some time... but it was gonna be tough. I figured, with the CIA backing me, it would only make the job easier.
But they found out your identity, they threatened to kill your parents. How can you say they didn't force you?
Vega smiles cynically.
C'mon, kiddo... you know me better than that.
Alexis has a confused look on her face.
Jason Scott...
He laughs to himself while shaking his head. Slowly, Alexis begins to piece together why Vega finds this amusing.
That isn't you're name, either.
Vega simply smiles proudly as Alexis looks a bit deflated.
How'd you do it?
One night I broke into and NYPD precinct. It was difficult because there were still plenty of detectives and personnel on the premises, but it didn't matter. I hacked one of their computers and cross referenced anybody who's DNA and fingerprints were in the system with any missing persons report of a man fitting my description. It returned a couple of results, I stole the files to those cases and followed up on them myself. Six in total... 5 dead, 1 alive. Jason Scott was a bright kid, degree from Penn State, got into Columbia's Masters program... but he developed a cocaine habit. He failed out of Columbia, and instead of returning home a failure, he ran away to California.
When I found him, he was face down on the floor of his apartment.
He was dead?
No. Dying. He was lying in his own vomit, barely breathing. The syringe he used to dope himself up was only inches away from him. I picked up his body-
Alexis has a slightly disturbed look on her face.
-and took him to the hospital... but not before I took some hair samples and his fingerprints. I left him at the hospital and gave a doctor two envelopes. One was for him, the other for Jason.
What was in it?
Checks. I paid off the doctor to treat Jason without reporting it into the system because it would trigger the missing person's data base system.
And the other?
A check for Jason only redeemable in the Cayman Islands. Attached was a letter stating that he was to stay there, and live out the rest of his life on a beautiful island with all the money he'd ever need... and if he'd ever come back... I'd kill him.
Alexis remains silent for a couple of moments, trying to take in everything she's just learned. Still confused, she continues with another question.
So, since the CIA had nothing on you, why did you want to infiltrate Interpol?
I heard through a source that Interpol was the only agency in the world that has the slightest idea of who I truly am... my true identity. If they have even when ounce of evidence on me, I want it. So I had to find out for myself.
And the hit on me?
Collateral damage. I would have taken out anybody in Interpol to clear my name. Or at least, that was the plan.
Vega thinks to himself about his original intention of killing Alexis before continuing.
What I did with you... that moment of mercy? That was a sign of weakness. It's a side of me I won't let out anymore.
What are you talking about?
I'm talking about me, now. This is all in the past, my priorities are different now. I'm the king of the most dangerous division in the company and I intend to stay king. And a king doesn't stay king by showing mercy... by showing weakness. I took it easy on Jimmy Flynn last time out. No bloodshed, no broken bones. I just put his pathetic body through a table and pinned his shoulders to the mat. He keeps crying about wanting a fair match, no weapons. Why roam in my jungle if you fear all the animals? I don't get it. Jimmy Flynn wants to be Mayhem Champion? If people think the Mayhem Championship will be worn by someone like that, they're sadly mistaken. I'm the best damn champion in the company today. I'll take on Rush, Sam Smith, and "Showtime" all at the same damn time and walk out a winner. Hell I'll even single-handedly take on the winner of the Tag Title Tournament and walk out as Tag Champs. The Mayhem title is around my waist and that makes it the most difficult title to currently obtain in WZCW.
The fact that I'm facing this loser twice in a row is a damn insult to me. At least this time they aren't desecrating my title by having me defend it against him again. Truth be told, I wouldn't care if they did put my title on the line... because I know there is no way in hell that he is walking out with it. The Mayhem Title will not grace the waists of bottom feeding talent any longer. Not while I'm around. That's a promise.
Vega isn't even looking at Alexis anymore, he's just staring off into the distance. She looks at him with a hint of concern...
You're beginning to get obsessed with this title.
He shakes his head in agreement.
I know.
He shrugs.
It's the way I am. When I go in, I go in all the way. I don't ever half ass anything. Not a job, not a con, and definitely not a match. I'm telling you, kiddo... this company has no idea what's in store. They have no idea of the power the lies in they're Mayhem division, and in it's king.
How long until they move you up the ranks?
I don't know, but I'm a patient man. I'm not much of a one punch knockout kind of guy. I enjoy the struggle my victims put up as I slowly but surely cinch in some sweet submission... and the sickening sound of their bones splintering... or the serene silence of their sleep. I love it. It takes patience sometimes, to get to the perfect point... the perfect situation. And when the opportunity presents itself, you grab it, and you squeeze, and you squeeze, and you squeeze until you get what is rightfully yours. I'll happily continue to pile up the names on my hit list. Victims on my way to the top. I laugh as they fall to the wayside... and eventually, I will get what is rightfully mine.
She stares at him... he stares back. Vega waits, knowing she wants to ask another question.
So, what now?
Now? For now I am King of the Mayhem Division. And as far as I'm concerned, the king will stay king.
He gets up off the couch and begins to walk away.
Where are you going?
To the training room.
He keeps walking, but Alexis speaks up just as Vega is about to exit the room.
Hey, Vega.
He stops, and turns around to look at Alexis.
Will I ever learn your real name?
Vega looks into her eyes as a smile slowly begins to creep up onto his face. Alexis looks back, waiting intently for his reply. He begins to slowly walk back towards her and leans in close. She looks up at him, waiting eagerly. Vega gets in real close, right in front of her face... and softly kisses her lips. She closes her eyes and inhales deeply, meanwhile his eyes remain wide open... looking at her. Once they finish kissing, Vega turns back around and slowly heads towards the door again, but before he exits, he says one last word out loud.
Patience.
-Close-
