-Open-
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Lyon, France
Interpol Headquarters
1994
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The scene opens up with a tight shot of an Interpol credentials badge. The picture on the badge is familiar, Vega, with a shaved head. The name, however, is new and foreign. It reads "Agent Andrew Post" along with some other information such as Date of Birth and Date of Employment which we can safely assume are completely false as well. The camera pans back slowly to reveal the credentials pinned onto the outer pocket of his suit jacket. There stands Vega, in broad daylight, right in front of Interpol Headquarters. He's wearing a plain black suit, white shirt, and black tie to match his black sunglasses. In his right hand he holds a black leather briefcase. After a deep and calm breath, he begins walking.
Are you in yet?
Vega puts his free hand to his ear and speaks softly.
I'd appreciate it if you kept the chatter to a minimum. I'm infiltrating one of the highest security locations in the entire world with nothing more than a 9 millimeter pistol. A pistol, by the way, that I'm only allowed to use on one person-
And only as a last resort.
Yeah, we don't need an unsilenced gun going off in a building full of Interpol Agents.
So why didn't you give me a silencer?
Security would know immediately that something was up if they see an Interpol Agent carrying a silenced firearm.
Regardless, the last thing I need is you two idiots constantly talking in my ear. If you want this to go down cleanly and without a hitch, do yourselves a favor and shut the hell up.
Fine, just remember. Don't kill anyone except for Agent Alexis Escobar, and preferably silently so as to not alert fellow agents.
You'd be a sitting duck in there if anyone heard your gun go off.
Yeah, no shit. Seriously, do you realize who you're talking to? ust shut up, I'm approaching the front doors.
Good, good. Now walk up to the desk and-
Shut. The hell. Up.
Hey! This is our investigation here, dammit. If you don't-
Vega reaches into his ear and pulls out a tiny nano machine that he was using to communicate with Agent Fields and Agent Donovan of the CIA. He looks annoyed at it, but slowly a small smile creeps up across his face. He looks up at the tall building, Interpol Headquarters, and then back down to his ear piece.
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Langley, Virginia
C.I.A. Headquarters
1994
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Agent Fields and Agent Donovan are sitting across from each other in a moderately sized conference room. Various papers and open files lay across the table. Agent Donovan is chewing on a piece of gum, it makes a smacking noise in his mouth every now and then. They're both wearing head sets with microphones attached to them, that is, until a sound barely audible to us coming from said head sets forces both Agents to quickly remove them. Fields goes as far as to throw his head set down onto the table as he angrily stands up in obvious frustration. Donovan shakes his head, sharing in Agent Fields' frustration as he just looks at him.
Dammit!
What do you think happened, Fields? Interpol blocked the transmission?
No way, Donovan. That son of a bitch just purposefully cut off communication with us!
He tossed his ear piece?
Agent Fields paces back and forth with his hands at his hips while shaking his head. For a few moments we only hear Agent Donovan chewing his gum as he waits for Fields to respond.
Nah, couldn't have. We'd still pick up sound. That damn distortion means the nano is broken. He must've stomped it out.
Stomped it out?
Now it's Agent Donovan who shakes his head in disagreement.
And leave C.I.A. technology lying on Interpol property? No way, he isn't that stupid. He must've destroyed the nano some other way.
How? It's too strong to crush in your hand.
Agent Fields ponders his own question for a moment, and furrows his eyebrows as he thinks of another method. He stares at Donovan, who stares back at him, just chewing on his gum.
Maybe not his hand.
Fields' keeps looking at Agent Donovan, specifically his mouth, as he keeps chewing away. Donovan's eyes squint in Fields' direction, and after a few seconds, the pace of his chewing begins to slow down.
You mean...
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Lyon, France
Interpol Headquarters
1994
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A close up shot of Vega's face shows him smiling as he chews on something with a closed mouth. He looks around for a bit before swallowing whatever it was that was in his mouth. Vega chuckles to himself, happy to rid himself of the annoyance of Agents Fields and Donovan barking orders into his ear. We find ourselves already inside the Interpol HQ building, the front lobby to be specific. Vega casually begins walking through an array of people, all whom look busy with purpose. He approaches the security desk and holds up his Interpol credentials to an armed guard as he casually tries to engage him in polite conversation.
How ya doin'?
The guard ignores Vega. He checks his credentials visually, and then runs it under a nearby laser scanner. A light on the scanner turns green. The guard gives Vega back his credentials and allows him to enter HQ.
Welcome, Agent Post.
Thanks.
Vega smiles, and-
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New York City
Vega's Penthouse
Present Day
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Whoa, whoa, whoa... so you just walked right in?
Vega and Alexis are sitting across from each other at the dinner table. Vega looks his usual self with his long hair and goatee, unlike in '94. They seem to have wrapped up dinner because all that sits in front of them are a couple of empty plates, but plenty of wine in their glasses. A half-empty bottle of Romanée-Conti '97 red wine is all that's left. Vega reaches for the $1,500 bottle of wine and casually pours some more into his glass all while flashing a sly little smile at Alexis.
No way.
Vega simply reaches out with the bottle of Conti and offers her a refill as well. She begins to smile as she reaches back with her glass. Vega pours the wine as he speaks up.
It was that easy.
He stops pouring. She takes a sip and shakes her head while drinking.
I was expecting some great story about you breaking in through the roof and climbing through vents, maybe even you Jiu-Jitsuing some Interpol Agents or something!
Vega takes a sip of his wine while innocently shrugging his shoulders.
Sorry, kiddo... but it's the truth. It may seem easy, but don't get it wrong. It takes a lot of skill to do what I do. To take something some thought would be impossible, and not only make it possible... but make it look damn easy in the process. You think anybody could have forged an immaculate set of Interpol credentials on their own like I did? What I did, it was a work of art. I took something meaningless, some simple pieces of laminated paper and barcoding, and I made it into a very dangerous tool. It was the work I put behind it that made it look so easy.
Funny, ain't it? The same thing is happening right now. All this work I've put into myself over these years... the fighting, the killing, the lying, the deceit, this life I have lived has bred me to be the deadliest wrestler in the entire company. I am making the Mayhem Championship worthy of glory once again. Simple tools like paper, become tools of chaos... weapons in these hands. I make anything and everything around my targets a dangerous asset.
Everything is a weapon, everything can assist in causing your enemies downfall when in the right hands, and controlled by the right mind. I'm no ordinary man, Alexis. I'm a thief. I'm a conman. I'm a killer... and as far as this world is concerned... I'm a ghost. This makes me a very bad, bad man. Furthermore, and more importantly for my opponents... or victims... that this company puts in front of me, this all makes me a very dangerous/I] man.
I am walking through every opponent this company has put in front of me, and I'm turning heads in the process. People are taking notice. People are beginning to realize that "Vega" is a name they will be hearing for a very, very long time. Slowly, but surely, that name will make every other wrestler scared, nervous, and anxious. Every single solitary wrestler in that locker room should be afraid of when it's their turn to face me. Victim, after victim, after victim. No damn mercy. This is what I was built to do, and this is why I'm making it look easy. Here I am, the most dangerous man in WZCW, and they insert me into the most dangerous division in WZCW... and now?
Vega flashes a huge sinister smile as he leans back in his chair while raising his glass.
Now, I am King.
The New King of Mayhem.
He drinks from his glass as Alexis stares at him, studying him for a couple of moments. She takes a deep breath before speaking.
So... "King of Mayhem, I know what you've done, and I know what you're capable of. I know that company is not ready for what you're about to unleash on them. But I didn't want you to talk to me about what I already know. I want to know what I don't know. That day, once you got into Interpol HQ... what was your plan?
After I got passed security, all I had to do was find what I was looking for... the evidence Interpol had against me. Then I had to head to your office and...
Vega and Alexis share a look, and both share an almost forced smile.
Kill me.
He bites his lips as he slowly, almost begrudgingly, shakes his head in agreement.
Yup.
Alexis looks down into here wine glass. She solemnly stares into the burgundy drink, watching it as it gently ripples back and forth. It soothes her for the moment, providing her a some type of simple solace before speaking again.
Well, before you found me... how did you find the evidence that Interpol allegedly had on you?
I didn't. I knew I didn't have enough time to comb through all of Interpol's database files so I logged onto their system from one of the computers in the White Collar crime division and uploaded a very specific virus. It didn't completely wipe out their files, it only deleted files from the previous couple of years, the only years I had been actively pulling jobs.
So, let me get this straight... a little summation of what I've learned since last time. You planted fake evidence in some of your previous crime scenes so that the C.I.A. would think they head leverage over you and bring you in for questioning.
Right.
They make you work for them instead of putting you in jail just as you knew they would.
Yup.
After training you in the art of killing, they begin sending you out on espionage missions. You go along with it, knowing the pay off was coming, and then it came. They wanted you to infiltrate Interpol Headquarters, which was your plan all along.
Vega nods, as he continues to enjoy his wine.
So you could upload this virus into the system and delete any evidence, any government agency, has ever had about you... ever.
So your plan went off without a hitch.
Alexis raises her glass as she facetiously toasts Vega's accomplishment.
Almost.
Almost?
The plan would have gone off without a hitch... had I completed my mission... and killed you like I was supposed to. The moment I entered your office, my mission... my life, it all changed.
Mine too.
I know. We've never been the same since. We both know what went down in that room, and now-
Vega stops himself before he gets too involved in the past. It's history, so instead he looks around at his luxurious penthouse proudly. He slyly grins before continuing to speak.
Now, we have this.
Alexis looks around and smiles as well.
I think we did pretty good.
I'd say so.
And, just so you know... that day, in my office. I think we both made the right decision. I have no regrets.
Me neither, kiddo.
Me neither.
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Lyon, France
Interpol Headquarters
1994
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We cut back to a clean shaven Vega, now walking down a hallway with his briefcase still in hand. He passes by many other Interpol Agents, most whom pay Vega no attention as he blends in seamlessly amongst the bustle. He turns a corner and approaches a mahogany door. There is a name plate right in the center:
Alexis Escobar
Vega reaches for the door knob and turns it. The door is unlocked. He opens it, and walks right in.
Haven't you ever heard of knocking?
Alexis is there, sitting at her desk. Her hair is black and tied back into a pony tail, a conservative look to match her plain grey pants suit and black shoes she's wearing. Vega closes the door behind him.
Who are you?
He doesn't respond. Vega's back is still turned as he locks the door. Alexis stands up, speaking with authority in her voice.
Why are you here?
Vega suddenly turns around while whipping his 9mm pistol out of his holster underneath his blazer. He walks right up to the desk while pointing the gun directly at Alexis' face. Only the desk is between them. Alexis stands there, motionless.
My name is Vega...
and I'm here to kill you.
-To Be Continued... -
