Endless Circle
by
Minx Trinket
Disclaimer: Do I apologize to Corday, Abrams, or Fleming and Broccoli for this one?
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Eight years after the events of "Long Shot." Chloë goes all Sydney Bristow. Brady goes all James Bond. Three guesses who the bad guy is, and the first two don't count.
Song Notes: Only three numbers this time, one from AR, one from Nadia, and one from Kyle.
Let's open with Antigonë Rising's "She Lived Here." Why? 'Cause I lurve them. And it fits. It does!
"Endless Circle," is a tune by the band November Project (R.I.P., *sniff*). Lyrics are copyright 1999 by Julie Flanders and Emil Adler, used completely and totally without permission. Hey, free publicity, guys!
And let's end with a Kyle cover of "Everlong" again, the plugged version this time.
MUSIC OVER: "She Lived Here."
FADE IN:
Aerial shots of NIGHT in NEW YORK CITY (2010):
Overview of Manhattan Island
Lincoln Center
Teeming traffic
Broadway
Packed crowds
The Empire State Building
Crunch Fitness
A room full of muscleheads working out, and finally
INT. KICKBOXING ROOM - CRUNCH FITNESS - NIGHT
CHLOË LANE, 26 years old, is alone. Dressed in black sports bra and shorts, hair back in a tight bun, wearing practice gloves, she's beating the hell out of a heavy bag to the beat of some internal soundtrack (which just happens to match our own). She's been at this a while and is sweating hard. She punches, kicks, punches again. There's something more than cardio fitness at stake here.
HALLWAY
A MAN watches her through the plate glass window. We only see him from behind. He's wearing a trench coat, has salt-and-pepper hair slightly favoring the salt, and leans on an elaborately carved cane.
IN THE ROOM
Chloë continues as MUSIC FADES (END MOS). We can hear her grunts now, her panting.
The man enters. She doesn't notice. We follow from behind as he approaches her. When he speaks, we discover that he is an --
ENGLISHMAN
Excuse me, Mrs. Black?
Chloë stops, startled, and notices him. She scowls.
CHLOË
Lane.
ENGLISHMAN
Pardon?
CHLOË
It's "Ms. Lane" now, on and
off stage.
ENGLISHMAN
(thrown)
Oh...oh, I see. My apologies.
The scowl disappears, replaced by Meet-the-Fans face.
CHLOË
That's okay. Can I help you?
ENGLISHMAN
Yes, I...well, first of all, I must
say what an honor it is to meet you.
I've been a fan of yours for many
years. I have all of your albums.
I've seen you perform several times.
Your CioCio-San, I saw it at the
Edinburgh Festival years ago. Just
stunning, really.
CHLOË
Thanks. That's always been my
favorite part, actually.
ENGLISHMAN
It's obvious why.
CHLOË
Listen, I...uh, I don't mean to
be rude, but I'm kind of in the
middle of my workout here. Gotta
keep the heart rate up, you know.
But I'd be happy to talk after I'm
done if you want to wait. Or if
you just want an autograph you
can leave me your card and --
ENGLISHMAN
Oh, no, Mrs. -- er, Ms. Lane, I
am a fan, but I'm not here as a
fan. I'm here on business, in fact.
Rather serious business.
CHLOË
Really? Well, then, how can
I help you, Mister...uh...?
ENGLISHMAN
Oh, how rude of me!
He fishes in the breast pocket of his coat and brings out an I.D. He holds it up to Chloë.
ANGLE ON his face. It's --
SHANE
Shane Donovan. ISA.
INT./EXT. SHANE'S LIMOUSINE - NIGHT
The black stretch limo edges its way through the city streets.
Inside, Chloë (in street clothes -- white blouse and jeans) sits beside Shane, but she looks out the window at passing buildings, occasionally glancing up at a billboard or sign. Shane looks uncomfortable. He clears his throat.
SHANE
If you don't mind my asking,
your divorce from Brady Black.
I understand it's final.
She looks at him skeptically.
SHANE (CONT'D)
I don't mean to intrude. It's
just --
CHLOË
That's all right. I don't suppose
you'll be telling the tabloids
anything, huh? Yes. It's final. A year
ago now.
SHANE
I see....Do you mind if I ask
what really happened between you?
CHLOË
Short version?
(beat)
We came to New York. I went
to school. I got a recording contract.
So I quit school. We got married. We
got divorced. That's pretty much it.
(beat)
We were too young. When things
got tough, we didn't....
She shrugs. She goes back to the window.
SHANE
How long has it been since you've
seen or spoken with him?
CHLOË
I don't know....I guess it's almost
two years now. The divorce was mostly
paperwork, formalities. Why?
SHANE
Morbid curiosity. I'm terribly sorry.
CHLOË
(beat)
So, how long until we get there?
SHANE
Not long now.
The limo slips around a delivery van and onto the West Side Highway, headed north.
INT. SHANE'S OFFICE - ISA MANHATTAN HEADQUARTERS - NIGHT
The room is "posh" in the purest sense of the word, dark wood and old leather, very Shane. Chloë sits, composed on the surface, in a large, wing-backed chair in front of his desk. Shane hobbles over and sets a bone china CUP OF TEA on the table beside her. Then he circles the desk and sits in his own chair with a sigh, rubbing his knee.
SHANE
Well.
CHLOË
Yes. Well.
SHANE
Have you ever, by any chance,
heard the name "Yios O."
CHLOË
(frowns)
It's...Greek? "Brother"?
SHANE
"Son" actually.
CHLOË
That's someone's name? No. I've
never heard of him.
SHANE
I was afraid you'd say that.
CHLOË
Why?
SHANE
Because he has heard of you.
CHLOË
(beat)
Um, will it sound totally narcissistic
if I say that's not that unusual? I
mean, Madonna I ain't, but --
SHANE
I'm afraid it's a bit uglier than that.
He pulls a MANILA FOLDER from a desk drawer. He places it in front of himself and folds his hands across it.
SHANE (CONT'D)
Yios O is the code name used by
one of the most unsavory international
crime bosses I have ever had the
displeasure to encounter, and
that's saying quite a bit I assure
you. He has no national affiliation,
no political agenda, just the pure
accumulation of wealth and power.
He has no moral compass as far
as I can ascertain, and he has
a hand in nearly every disreputable
occupation you could imagine, from
drugs to weapons to slavery.
CHLOË
Charming. And you haven't
arrested him because...?
SHANE
Because we don't know who he is.
(beat)
For going on five years now,
every agent we've sent into
his organization has turned
up dead and empty handed.
We know nearly as little about
him now as we did when he first
emerged on the scene --
CHLOË
Mr. Donovan, this is all very...
well, disturbing, but why are you
telling me this?
SHANE
Because there is one thing we do
know about him. The only thing
Yios O is more interested in
than his own power...is you.
He lets this sink in. Chloë stares at him, gaping. He pushes the folder across the desk to her and opens it. It's full of BLACK-AND-WHITE PHOTOS.
SHANE (CONT'D)
The only agent who has ever
managed to contact us once
inside his organization was a
photographer, whom Yios O
hired to follow you.
Chloë flips slowly through the pictures. They're surveillance photos all right. Chloë walking down 5th Avenue. Chloë in the recording studio. Chloë in the gym. And so on. And so on. Then, at the bottom of the pile, Chloë and BRADY sitting at an outdoor café, looking miserable. She stops at this picture, and just for a second her horror turns to sadness. She collects herself and looks at Shane. Her voice is tight.
CHLOË
So, why are you telling me this?
SHANE
We want to bring you in.
CHLOË
(beat)
In?
SHANE
To the ISA. We'd like you to
work for us, as an agent.
Beat.
Chloë laughs like it's the funniest thing she's heard in years.
SHANE (CONT'D)
Ms. Lane --
CHLOË
I'm sorry, that's just, that's...
This is ridiculous. Is this some
kind of joke?
SHANE
I assure you it's quite serious.
CHLOË
Look, Mr. Donovan, I....
She laughs again, close to losing it. She stands and rushes to the door. She pulls it open and dashes out.
Shane jumps to his feet and limps after her.
INT. HALLWAY - ISA HEADQUARTERS - CONTINUOUS
Chloë tries to leave but is lost. Shane catches up to her.
SHANE
Ms. Lane, please --
CHLOË
Mr. Donovan, I am a singer.
I'm not a spy. I can't do...spy
things. I'm just a singer.
SHANE
We're aware of that. Look, you may
find this hard to believe, but
you wouldn't be the first star to
be recruited by us. Celebrities
have access to places and people
that we so-called common folk
do not. Behind stages, on movie
sets, hobnobbing with royalty.
Where we stand out, you blend
in. It's the perfect cover and one
we've used quite often.
CHLOË
But me? Me? Just because
some criminal mastermind
has a Chloë Lane fixation?
SHANE
To be frank, Ms. Lane, we've
had our eye on you for quite
some time.
CHLOË
You're joking.
SHANE
Quite serious. One of our agents
recommended you years ago.
CHLOË
Who?
MALE VOICE (O.S.)
It sure as hell wasn't me.
Chloë freezes. She turns slowly toward the voice.
He stands casually in a doorway, hands stuffed into his pockets, playing it ultra cool.
BRADY (CONT'D)
Hey, Chlo'.
She blinks at him.
CHLOË
Oh, I am so out of here.
She dashes off. Shane sighs. Brady shrugs at him.
INT. LOBBY - ISA HEADQUARTERS - CONTINUOUS
A panicky Chloë emerges from a stairwell and heads for the heavily guarded front doors.
GUARD
Mrs. Black?
CHLOË
LANE!
GUARD
I'm afraid you're not allowed
out that way.
CHLOË
Well, then, show me the damn
way out!
GUARD
Certainly, ma'am, just a --
He stops, puts a finger to the listening device in his ear. He nods.
GUARD (CONT'D)
Understood.
(to Chloë)
Ma'am, I've been asked to retain
you. Agent Black wants a word.
CHLOË
Oh yeah, well you can tell Agent
Black to take his assignment and
stick it up his --
FEMALE VOICE (O.S.)
Her.
Again, Chloë is struck speechless. She turns slowly.
Special Agent BELLE BLACK stands in the lobby: perfect suit, perfect hair, a blonde Dana Scully. If we didn't love her so much, we'd smack that smart-ass smile right off her face.
BELLE (CONT'D)
"Up her ass," you were going
to say.
CHLOË
(beat)
You've got to be kidding me.
EXT. PETITO'S ITALIAN RESTAURANT - NIGHT
Establishing shot of a converted brownstone.
INT. PRIVATE ROOM - PETITO'S - NIGHT
Belle and Chloë sit at a table for two in the sumptuously furnished but otherwise empty room. Belle looks completely relaxed and smiles openly at the WAITER as he brings in two CAESAR SALADS and places them before the women.
BELLE
(to waiter)
Thanks, Joey.
He nods and departs. Belle picks up her fork and digs in.
BELLE (CONT'D)
Mmm. I know, this thing is like,
cholesterol city, but they make the
best Caesar salads. Seriously.
CHLOË
Belle....
BELLE
Oh, come on. Couple of egg yolks
won't kill you.
CHLOË
Belle --
BELLE
Mmm. I forgot, do you want a
glass of wine or something?
CHLOË
Belle!
(beat; quietly)
How long have you been...a spy?
She shrugs, munching, casual.
BELLE
You don't have to whisper. This
place is as clean as it gets. As
far as we know. Anyway, technically
speaking, I'm not what you'd call a spy.
CHLOË
You're not?
BELLE
I'm a profiler. You know, psych
stuff. A little criminal profiling,
a little recruiting, a little mind
control...
(off Chloë's look)
Kidding! Sheesh, lighten up, Chlo'!
CHLOË
Lighten up?
(louder)
Lighten up?!
BELLE
Not that far up.
CHLOË
Belle, you're a spy! And Brady's
a spy! You're spies! You! And
Brady! And I'm freaking out!
BELLE
Shh, shh, shh, okay. It's okay.
CHLOË
It's really not.
Belle pushes a button on the table. She speaks to an unseen microphone.
BELLE
Joey? Two glasses of the
Montepulciano, when you get
a chance. Thanks.
(to Chloë)
All right. Yell away.
CHLOË
(quietly)
I....What the hell is going on?
Belle sighs. She puts down her fork and looks seriously at Chloë.
BELLE
I was recruited into the ISA straight
out of college. I'm not some Mrs.
Peel super spy. I'm just a government
grunt, a glorified desk cop. One
of my jobs is to identify new talent.
And I identified you. Now, with
this Yios O thing, it seemed like
the time to bring you in.
CHLOË
And Brady? The whole time we
were married, was he --
BELLE
No. I recruited him after you
two split up. He didn't even know
what I did. The whole family thought
I was a social worker....After you...
he came to me, and he was so lost,
I....Sorry.
CHLOË
Go on.
BELLE
He had nothing. No direction.
He didn't know what to do. Maybe
I was blinded by sisterly affection,
but...I filed a recommendation, and
we brought him in.
(beat)
He's hard core. The real deal.
And he's very good at what he does.
CHLOË
Well, I'm...I'm glad he's found
himself. Really. It's great. But it has
nothing to do with me anymore.
BELLE
It does, Chloë. This Yios O guy,
he's bad news. Really bad. We
need your help. We can't get to
him any other way.
CHLOË
There's got to be --
BELLE
If you don't help us, they're
gonna send Brady in instead...
it's a death sentence, Chloë.
CHLOË
You said he's good.
BELLE
So was everyone else we've sent
in there. And they're all dead.
Belle's eyes plead with her. Chloë looks down at her untouched salad. Then she looks up at Belle again, eyes narrowed in determination.
INT. SHANE'S OFFICE - NIGHT
Chloë strides through the door, chin high and defiant. Belle hurries to catch up. Shane looks up at her, surprised.
CHLOË
Okay. What exactly do I have to do?