HITMAN 3 Transcript

Agent 47 and Diana Burnwood are the world’s top assassins working for the ICA

Unknowingly, they have been hired by a Shadow Client to target a number of operatives of Providence, a secret organization working in the highest echelons of power.

Providence’s controller, The Constant, approaches Diana and makes her a deal:

Eliminate the Shadow Client and learn about 47’s past.

But when 47 discovers that the Shadow Client is Lucas Grey, his lost childhood friend, he and Diana switch sides to fulfil an old pact:

Destroy Providence.

Together, they manage to capture The Constant, forcing him to reveal the identities of the three Providence Partners.

Eliminate them, and the war would be over.

However, The Constant has an ace up his sleeve…

Prologue BEST-LAID PLANS

[Lucas Grey arrives on a ship in port.]

Lucas Grey: (offscreen) Look closer. In the shadows. Behind the everyday world. Beyond the headlines and the seats of power.

[He gets in the car. Mr. Forty Seven’s bald head glistens. He’s in the passenger seat.]

Lucas Grey: (offscreen) A hidden hand. A kind of company, known as… Providence.

[The car drives down a dusty, deserted road into a gorge.]

Lucas Grey: (offscreen) To it, we were just assets. To use and throw away. To do the unthinkable - the unforgivable - and it never gave us a second thought, until now.

[Night. Forty Seven and Lucas Grey arrive in Saudi Arabia. In the distance you can see a sign with the name of the country in Arabic and English.]

Lucas Grey: (offscreen) After decades in the shadows, we are fighting back. Me and 47. Much has been lost. But we are closer than ever. We trapped the Constant, Providence’s Chief Controller, and finally learnt the names of its three partners.

[Forty Seven and Lucas Grey walk across the sand dunes toward the airfield.]

Lucas Grey: (offscreen) In their downfall, we lay the past to rest. And just maybe, look towards the future…

[Wearing special gear, they stand in the cargo hold of the plane, holding onto the railing.]

Lucas Grey: 47.

Forty Seven: It’s time.

[The hatch of the cargo plane opens. In the distance, the spire of a huge building pierces the sky.]

[Forty Seven and Lucas Grey jump out of the plane, talking over the radio.]

Lucas Grey: (via radio) The Partners are down there. You know, I never planned this far ahead.

Forty Seven: You never do.

Lucas Grey: (via radio) I see someone got his memory back. Wait, is that a beacon—

[A helicopter flies next to them, nearly hitting them both.]

Lucas Grey: (via radio) What the hell? Base. Alexa Carlisle’s helicopter just took off. Confirm target locations, over.

Forty Seven: Diana, what’s the status?

Diana Burnwood: (via radio) Right. We have a situation. Carlisle has left the building… And I think I know why. The Constant has escaped. He persuaded one of the sailors into setting him free and since then he’s been seizing control of Providence assets and resources. I can only assume Carlisle is rushing to contain the damage.

Forty Seven: If she slips away again…

Diana Burnwood: (via radio) We’ll keep track of her. Make sure she doesn’t. Meanwhile, the plan stays the same. Your destination is The Sceptre; the world’s tallest building where the Partners are laying low, courtesy of their host sheikh Omar al-Ghazali. Marcus Stuyvesant is fifth generation old money. His family made its fortune in real estate and banking and were at one point the chief landowners in New York. Carl Ingram is a powerful Washington kingmaker whose family grew rich selling gunpowder during the American Civil War and later established a globe-spanning empire in oil, coal and steel. Both families long since retreated from public view but their quiet dominance endures to this day. Now, the Partners likely suspect that we’re coming. So Mr. Grey will infiltrate building controls and disable all electronic doors and elevators. Stuyvesant and Ingram are about to find they have nowhere left to run.

Lucas Grey: (via radio) Right. This is our moment, 47. Providence ruined our lives with the flick of a pen. Today… We return the favor. Happy hunting.

ON TOP OF THE WORLD/DUBAI

TARGET: CARL INGRAM
The Ingram family is of Scandinavian origin.
Their earliest known ancestors were blacksmiths in Norway but in the early 19th century, they migrated to America and became cattle ranchers. They eventually made a fortune selling gunpowder during the American revolutionary war and later established an empire in OIL, COAL and STEEL.
By the 20th century, the Ingrams had become one of the world’s biggest fossil energy providers and began expanding their business empire into fields such as agriculture, pharmaceuticals, and consumer goods. In fact, some of the family’s biggest sources of revenue come from the Thwack beverage company and a global empire of chain stores.
Key Providence assets such Hamsun Oil, Blue Seed Agriculture, and the Pax Mundus Foundation (geo-political think tank) are all largely controlled by the Ingram family. However, it is their political clout - a benefit of controlling the vital oil and coal markets - that makes them truly powerful.
The Ingrams are responsible for most of the Providence operatives positioned in governments and state institutions around the world, including senators, cabinet secretaries, generals and even a high-ranking papal advisor, and they enjoy a close relationship to Middle Eastern and Latin American power players such as the AlGhazali family in Saudi Arabia and the Moreno drug cartel in Mexico.
CARL INGRAM (66) is the current head of family and the second-most senior Providence Partner.
Carl is brash, direct and a cowboy at heart. Despite their immense wealth and privilege, the family has always cultivated a Protestant work ethic and Carl feels most at home at his Kansas ranch or touring his oil fields which, incidentally, is also where he brings his business partners and political acolytes to size them up.
Carl is a lion of a man with a quiet air of dominance and a steel handshake. He is also highly intelligent, perceptive and an astute judge of character.
As a youth, Carl enlisted in the army and completed a tour of duty in Vietnam shortly before the fall of Saigon. Returning home to finish his studies, Carl decided that while the logic behind the Domino Theory had been sound, military campaigns were archaic and ineffective. Wars should be fought, not with boots on the ground, but through the dual channels of Machiavellian tradecraft and the slow power of corporate influence.
Carl studied military intelligence and became a foreign policy advisor to the White House by the tender age of 32. When by 40, he inherited control of the Ingram estate from his father Douglas, Carl had both the political savvy and the corporate muscle to set himself up as a behind-the-scenes "kingmaker" whose endorsement is guaranteed to make or break campaigns and indeed, careers-on both sides of the political divide, And yet Carl, like his family name, remains virtually unknown to the general public, always preferring the subtle back-room machinations over the spectacle and limelight. He finally replaced his father Douglas as Providence Partner in 1994.
Carl Ingram comes across as a libertarian, but in truth his pragmatism transcends political boxes. He views himself-and Providence-as the vanguard of global stability and status quo and this balancing act requires a highly-flexible mind. For instance, Carl has spend billions undermining the climate agenda, while simultaneously investing heavily in climate change counter-measures. However, this is all for the good of society. Carl believes that only the steady hand of Providence can lead the world into a more sustainable age without the otherwise inevitable descent into disruption, upheaval and revolution.
Carl was married twice, with two sons from his first marriage and an adopted son from his second. None of his heirs know about Providence yet but Carl leans towards appointing his adopted son, whom he sees as having the greatest potential, as his successor.Unsentimental and a staunch meritocrat, Carl takes his power very seriously but is unapologetic about it, believing that only the capable has a right and duty to rule and that, to the best and brightest, power and leadership is no privilege. It is an obligation.
However, like his associate Marcus Stuyvesant, Carl’s pride has blinded him to the threat of Arthur Edwards and now it may be too late to pass on the torch.

TARGET: MARCUS STUYVESANT
The Stuyvesant family is of Dutch-German origin.
Their earliest known ancestors were violin-builders in 18th century Rotterdam. Moving to Bavaria where they became successful merchants, they eventually settled in New York and established an empire in REAL ESTATE and BANKING. At one point, they owned 15% of all property on Manhattan, competing with the Astor family as the "landlords of New York." They also cultivated an image as patrons of the arts and sciences, donating museum and university wings all over New England.
During their heyday in the late 19th and early 20th century, the Stuyvesants were counted among the five richest families in the world and, like most powerful clans in the age of rogue capitalism that followed the industrial revolution, they were essentially robber barons. They made a fortune off King Leopold II’s atrocities in the Congo, cynically exploited the fallout of the great depression (which they managed to dodge) and maintained lucrative trade deals with despots throughout the 20th century, such as Pinochet in Chile and Jin Po in Khadanyang.
To this day, their intricate network of banks frequently and indiscriminately launder money for white-collar criminals, organized crime syndicates, terrorist groups and despots all around the world.
Ever since the end of WW2 and the creation of Providence, the Stuyvesants have retreated from public view and few today recognize the name. The family is still immensely wealthy but their true currency is influence. Their assets and investments are deliberately scattered and obscured, hidden behind funds and shell companies. But the Stuyvesant estate is involved in a wide and diverse arrange of industries such as real estate, banking and finance, insurance, and legal services, as well as the arts, sports and entertainment.
Important Providence assets such as Milton-Fitzpatrick (investment bank); Danziger Ltd. (Insurance); Morgan, Yates & Kohn (law firm); and Monumental Pictures are old, Stuyvesant property, in which they still own a controlling share.
MARCUS STUYVESANT (51), the current head of the family, is the youngest of the Providence Partners. He is divorced from Penelope Huxley-Stuyvesant with whom he has a single daughter, Cornelia who runs the Stuyvesant art foundation.
A strong proponent of order, diligence and pertinence, Marcus tends to come across as officious and high-strung. Before Alexa Carlisle, Marcus’s late father Eckhart used to sit at the head of the table, and Marcus is doggedly determined to prove himself his father’s equal.
An introvert and dyslexic, Marcus dragged himself through college on the wings of his family name and generous campus contributions. He landed a job at the prestigious law firm Morgan, Yates & Kohn although his grades were hardly in the top ten percent, Diligent and determined, he was on partner track when Eckhart died abruptly of a stroke and Marcus was approached for the first time by Arthur Edwards (the 2nd Constant) who revealed the Stuyvesant family’s true legacy. Partnership on a whole different scale. Marcus later learned that Eckhart had long considered appointing Milton-Fitzpatrick CEO Eugene Cobbinstead of his pedestrian son, but he died before he could finalize his decision. This humiliating feeling of being a temp or runner-up, haunts Marcus to this day.
Marcus adores his daughter Cornelia and determined to be a more supportive father than Eckhart, insists that she should one day succeed him as Partner. But Cornelia, ironically, shows little sign that she would be even remotely interested in running a globe-spanning power cabal. And now, Marcus is waking up to the harsh realization that not only is it too late to shape Cornelia in his own image.

[Forty Seven flies to a luxurious building where he is to find his two new targets. Diana instructs Forty Seven through the radio in his helmet.]

Diana Burnwood: (briefing) Welcome to Dubai, 47. Today is the inauguration of The Sceptre and the ceremony is well underway. You will find Marcus Stuyvesant near the building’s signature art installation, while a paranoid Carl Ingram has ensconced himself in his penthouse suite, security on highest alert. Mr. Grey is already in position and ready to assist. Good luck, 47.

[Forty Seven descends upon the massive skeleton of the giant building and begins to move in.]

Lucas Grey: (via radio) 47? Come in 47 do you copy?

Forty Seven: I’m here.

Lucas Grey: (via radio) Are you in position?

Forty Seven: I’m heading towards the point of entry.

Lucas Grey: (via radio) Good. Get back to me when you’re there.

[Walking across the massive metal skeleton of the building, Forty Seven jumps into the window washers’ credle.]

Lucas Grey: (via radio) Hm, locked. 47, use your camera and scan the lock, will you? I think I can override the window’s controls from here.

[Forty Seven scans the lock and opens the window that leads him into the vent shaft.]

Forty Seven: I’m in position.

Lucas Grey: (via radio) 47, the inauguration is taking place close by. Once you’ve infiltrated it, get your bearings. I’m sure there must be floor plans somewhere.

Forty Seven: Understood.

Lucas Grey: (via radio) We need absolute focus on this one. If Ingram and Stuyvesant are alerted to our presence, we may lose them for good. We are so close, 47.

Forty Seven: Don’t worry. They’re not going anywhere.

[Forty Seven enters a luxurious building in a stark, light gray tuxedo. He tries not to stand out and behaves like an ordinary guest. From afar, a speech read by Omar al-Ghazali himself can be heard.]

Omar al-Ghazali: (from afar) How lovely to see so many friendly and familiar faces here todayю This has been a dream of mine for a great many years. And as all of you know, I am from one of the less privileged sides of the respectful Al-Ghazali family, but with a small loan from my father, I soon built up a construction empire that was worthy of the great Al-Ghazali legacy. So, I would like to thank my cousins-without whose friendship and influence, this achievement might not have been possible. Thank you. I’m proud to yet again immortalize our great family name.

[Forty Seven goes up to the second floor to listen to the speech.]

Omar al-Ghazali: But most importantly - this building is for all the people of Dubai… which is to date, the tallest building in the world. A feat I’m very proud to have achieved here in my humble homeland. So I’m humbly proud to open… The Burj Al-Ghazali!

[He cuts the ribbon.]

Omar al-Ghazali: Or if you don’t like that, the Sceptre, if you find the other name too… vain. Now please. Be my guests and celebrate. And thank you.

[Forty Seven goes to the opening party of the assignment and, as usual, eavesdrops quietly.]

Guest: Cornelia Stuyvesant! You are here! How wonderful! You know I didn’t think you would come after your tragic loss.

Cornelia Stuyvesant: Thank you, Lucy. I would love to chat, but—

Lucy Phillips: Marcus Stuyvesant was a god to us struggling artists - his… and your generosity, helped so many!

Cornelia Stuyvesant: That’s kind of you, but I have a meeting.

Lucy Phillips: Oh, with who? Can I come?

Cornelia Stuyvesant: No, Lucy. This is a private matter. (sighs) Besides, this is your big day. You should… mingle… have fun.

Lucy Phillips: Don’t worry about that. My art speaks for itself…

Cornelia Stuyvesant: Well, I have to go. I’ll call when I get back to New York. (leaves)

Lucy’s Assistant: Lucy… You are needed at the inauguration. And there are some other issues I’d like to run by you…

Lucy Phillips: Oh, that can wait. Cornelia! Don’t go!

[She goes to the bar. Forty Seven follows her.]

Lucy Phillips: Get me drink. A strong one.

Bartender: Yes, of course miss. Any preference?

Lucy Phillips: It doesn’t matter.

Lucy’s Assistant: Sorry, Lucy… But there is more, there seems to be an issue with the Sun installation…

Lucy Phillips: Oh, I’m sure you can handle it. That’s what I pay you for.

Lucy’s Assistant: I know… but this could be a serious problem…

Lucy Phillips: Darling. You know how it works - we’ve gone over this a thousand times. See what you can do and if everything fails, then you get me. This is my day. And I pay you, to make sure I can enjoy it. Understood?

Lucy’s Assistant: Yes, Lucy.

Lucy Phillips: Good. Now off you go! I have important things to take care of. (leaves)

Lucy’s Assistant: What a cow.

INTEL: The Artist
Lucy Phillips mentioned that the only way to get her to leave would be if there was a technical problem with her latest masterpiece. But she is certain her assistant will send someone to let her know if that should ever happen.

[Lucy finds Cornelia again and strikes up a conversation with her. Forty Seven watches them from the second floor.]

Lucy Phillips: It’s just a drink. You don’t mind, do you? I really think you are putting on a brave face… You shouldn’t be hiding back here… you should be out there, celebrating life! Oh no, that reminds me… I’m supposed to talk to Richard Voltaire… You know, I’m really frightened of him-his review on the "Senses Exhibition" was brutal… But I’d rather be here supporting you.

Cornelia Stuyvesant: Thank you… But it’s really not necessary. I have…

Lucy Phillips: As long as you know I’m here for you. As I said, it’s only if something goes wrong and it’s only if something goes wrong or that dreadful critic insists on speaking to me now, that I’ll be kept away from my friend, Cornelia Stuyvesant… Everything is going fabulously out there. I really want to say how much I appreciate all you have done for me. Without you, I wouldn’t be here… Not to sound arrogant - You have such a good eye for talent…

Cornelia Stuyvesant: Lucy. Seriously-could you please just give me a half an hour, alone? I need to think.

Lucy Phillips: You know Cornelia, I really worry about you. Oh wow. Do you see that? Just a sec. Look!

INTEL: Slow on the Uptake
Lucy Phillips seems to be slow on the uptake. Cornelia Stuyvesant is desperately trying to make her leave quietly, but she is not taking the hint.

(In)Security

[On the second floor, where Forty Seven is located, there is also a security room. From behind the ajar door, voices can be heard.]

Guard 1: Any news on the new Guard assigned to Codename: Pinky?

Guard 2: I got word that he entered the building but he hasn’t reported for duty yet. Probably still down at the depot.

[Forty Seven finds the gaping servant and knocks him out with a chokehold, then changes into his clothes. He climbs out the window and descends several floors below.]

Servant: (on the phone) I cannot believe James called in sick today. Of all days! His Highness has everyone working triple shifts. There’s so much going on here I’ve had four staff update meetings already. And now that crazy manager called us in to another meeting. So now we’ve got to memorize new lists of guest names, new passwords for the terminals and new special dietary needs. I mean, there’s an actual limit to the amount of information the human brain can contain and I’m pretty sure I’ve hit it! And to top it off, they just told us we wouldn’t be getting overtime payment because we’re just expected to be here. Can you believe it? God! Could this day get any worse?

[He goes out for a smoke and is thrown down by Forty Seven hanging from the ledge. He then makes his way into the kitchen and from there into the dressing room, where a guard dressed only in white underpants tries to flirt with the maid. The new guard, by a lucky coincidence, turns out to be bald and similar in build to Forty Seven. For starters, our bald assassin steals his orders.]

INTEL: The New Recruit’s Orders
Papers detailing the new recruit’s prior bodyguard assignments and duties and orders to appear at the Tower. His past experience includes working for Dawood Rangan, a recently deceased Bollywood film producer and some obscure mentions of his cutlery-related boy scout badges.

Guard: This is gonna make me look really bad.

Maid: I’m sure it’s around here somewhere-don’t you worry. A colleague is also out there, looking…

Guard: But this is awful. I mean, I’m in my boxers and you are a woman… it’s just so embarrassing.

Maid: It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.

Guard: But you don’t understand! I’m military! We military men are used to punctuality! I was supposed to be ready and present my papers half an hour ago!

Maid: Yes, you men in the army with your papers - super punctual. I get it.

Guard: Are you make fun of me? That’s so cruel. Do you know what a man is without his gun?

Maid: A man in his boxers… crying like a baby…

Guard: You women will never understand…

Maid: And I don’t think we ever will…

[To avoid an unpleasant encounter in the future, Forty Seven patiently waits for the guard to step aside, distracts the maid and knocks the guard out with a chokehold, steals his guard’s uniform and makes his way into the control room.]

Forty Seven: Reporting for duty.

Officer: Well about time. Our client has been going out of his mind, waiting for you. Do you have the papers?

Forty Seven: Yes.

Officer: Good, I’ll call him now.

Forty Seven: How should I address him?

Officer: It’s classified. So, you don’t call him anything. But officially, he’s just known as "Codename: Pinky." (to the radio) Sir. This is Security. Just calling to let you know that your new guard has finally arrived. Yes sir. See you soon. (to 47) Okay. Wait here. He’ll be here shortly. (to the other officer) Mumbai -oh, I heard that was a shit storm.

[A minute later, Mr. Pinky enters the control room.]

Codename Pinky (Marcus): Okay. You must be my new escort. I have very high standards and trust you will do your duty. You have your credentials on you? Let me see here… yes, it looks good. Oh, I like it. A "cutlery expert" no less… I have no idea what that means… But your CV is very impressive… This looks perfect. C’mon, let’s walk. Need to tell you a bit about what I expect from you. I expect you to be by my side 24/7, unless I say otherwise. Bathroom breaks are of course permitted, but only when I say so. I have a very important and delicate meeting today at which I expect you to keep your ears closed, but your eyes wide open. Understood? Now… Your papers were indeed impressive… but I need to see what you can do with my own eyes. My father used to take me hunting. He was an avid Hunter. I personally hated it but always admired his skill with a knife and grew to appreciate what it takes to gut an animal. Have you ever tried… to gut an animal?

Forty Seven: Yes…

Codename Pinky: Good. Then you know it’s not so easy as it looks. Like trying to stab a rubber ball. It bounces back, if you don’t stabit correctly… We are almost here. You have to understand. I didn’t get where I am by blind faith. Okay, we are almost there. You see the shooting targets? Any fool can shoot a target. But with a knife? Now, that’s where the talent lies. My father always used to say: "If you are good with a knife, you are even better with a gun." I want to see your skills… I don’t know why, but I’ve always trusted a man who could throw a knife… I’m sure a psychiatrist would have a field day with that statement. So, show me what you got! Do well and you work for me. Fail? You get out of here and I never want to see your face again. Let’s just hope he is half as good as you were.

Codename Pinky’s Guard: Only time will tell. But I doubt it…

Codename Pinky: You cocky idiot. (first target is hit) Oh, spot on! (second target is hit) Look at that! Not bad at all! (the last target os hit) That was a magnificent performance. I like you. I think we will get along just fine.

Lucas Grey: (via radio) You’ve gained his trust. What to do with all that power?

Pinky: …and take the rest of the day off. You deserve it.

Pinky’s Guard: Thank you, sir. It was an honor.

[The guard leaves, leaving Marcus alone with Forty Seven. Marcus stands nonchalantly at the edge of the building’s balcony. Despite the perfect timing for a murder that could be seen as an accident, Forty Seven takes his time killing Marcus.]

Pinky: (to 47) You impressed me. You really did. But let’s get to work. Some things you should know about me and this is very much on a need to know basis. I’m here incognito. So I want you to stay close, but not too close — especially when we are out in public. If you see a man with a bodyguard, it draws attention. Understood? Yeah, of course you do. C’mon, follow me.

Bird of Prey

[After getting some free time, Forty Seven continues to explore and sees a man trying to break into a guarded part of the building.]

Assistant: Look, it’s just a precaution.

Man in Glasses: I’ve been personally invited by the royal highness, Omar Al-Ghazali. I should have clearance. The name is Zana Kazem.

Guard: Sir, I understand, but you can’t enter without being searched. It’s standard procedure.

Zana Kazem: This is ridiculous…

MISSION STORY: Bird Of Prey
Join the meeting with Carl Ingram
(voice of Lucas Grey) Zana Kazem, aka "The Vulture." One of the top agents working for Crystal Dawn, the PanAfrican terrorist organization. I almost hired him myself once but chose The Maelstrom instead. Now, what is his business here?

Assistant: Well, that’s how it is… Think about it and come back if you want. I’ll be waiting upstairs in the reception. Understood?

Zana Kazem: Crystal.

[Forty Seven quietly follows Zana.]

Lucas Grey: (via radio) Listen, I want to talk to the partners directly, make them understand why all of this is happening. And that terminal gives me an idea. There’s a server room near the Sheikh’s personal reception. If you can gain access to it, we might be able to recover useful intel from it. We’ll have to work together to hack the system, but it’s our best shot.

[Forty Seven breaks Zana Kazem’s neck and takes his clothes and documents, after which he goes through the search procedure and enters a restricted area.]

Assistant: Oh, Mr. Kazem. I’m glad you changed your mind.

Forty Seven: Arrogance can be a dangerous trait.

Assistant: Yes indeed, it can. Mr. Ingram has been expecting you. We have a conference room set up for you. Please go in and make yourself comfortable. Mr. Ingram will be with you shortly.

Forty Seven: Thank you.

[He walks into the office and sits on the couch. Soon the second target of the bald assassin, Carl Ingram, enters the office. Along with him enter two bodyguards.]

Carl Ingram: Mr. Kazem, a pleasure to meet you… Omar tells me great things about you. I’ll get straight to the point. I have a… well, let’s call it a dispute, which the Royal Highness tells me you are very capable of taking care of. Now I’ve worked with your organization before… In Morocco I believe, so I’m a little hesitant.

Forty Seven: Don’t be. We do what’s needed.

Carl Ingram: Well, only time will tell. I have two assignments for you. Take care of the first one, and then we can discuss the bigger fish. Now,on to the first: an acute problem has been brought to my attention.

Forty Seven: Keep talking.

Carl Ingram: I’ll be candid with you. No one is supposed to know that I’m here… However, there’s a journalist down at the inauguration… and he’s asking rather intrusive questions about who’s staying up here. And that is a very dangerous problem for me. Now, I want you to silence this little pain. You think you can do that?

Forty Seven: It’s what I do best.

Carl Ingram: I like your bluntness. This is his file. Hans Lucht, Pulitzer winning, freelance journalist. He’s good and won’t give up until he gets the answers he needs. And that can’t happen.

INTEL: The Reporter
A picture of Ingram’s target: Hans Lucht. 47 can eliminate or pacify him and take a picture to ensure he is capable of the assignment.

Forty Seven: Consider it done.

Carl Ingram: Good man. And remember, I want a picture. I want proof so I can sleep tonight.

Forty Seven: Of course.

Carl Ingram: Once this little assignment is completed, come back and talk to Miss To. We can discuss the real cancer that needs to be removed. I’m sure you can see yourself out.

[Forty Seven finds the journalist trying to get the guard to talk.]

Hans Lucht: Hello, I don’t mean to pry, but upstairs, do you by any chance know who is staying there? I hear it’s not just the Royal Highness…

Guard: I’m going to ask you politely to move along. I don’t appreciate your line of questioning.

Hans Lucht: Well, I was just curious, but thanks for your time. Thought this was a lead… maybe not? I’ll keep asking.

Forty Seven: Mr. Lucht? I hear you are looking for information.

Hans Lucht: Oh, really? Okay. You know what is happening upstairs?

Forty Seven: I know more than you could imagine. But we can’t talk here. Follow me.

Hans Lucht: Great! Lead the way! Wait. No. No, no, no, no, no. This… this feels off. I don’t trust you. I’m gonna walk away. No harm done. Okay? Talk to me again if you mean business.

[Forty Seven, however, does not let the journalist leave the room. He quickly breaks his neck and takes a picture.]

Lucas Grey: (via radio) Yes, that’s it. Ingram is now like shooting fish in a barrel.

[Forty Seven returns to Mr. Ingram’s office.]

Miss To: Mr. Kazem, welcome back. So, you have the picture?

Forty Seven: Yes… Here.

Miss To: Good. Our guest will be delighted. Please, follow me. He’s waiting. Mr. Kazem. Please follow me. I hope you have had time to see the art exhibition. His Royal Highness has a keen eye for the arts. If you haven’t yet, I highly recommend it. Have you seen the view yet? It’s quite spectacular. On a clear day you get a wonderful view of the Arabian Desert. It’s a sight to behold… the vastness of it. Back in China this would never be possible, because of all the smog… Mr. Ingram is expecting you.

Carl Ingram: Mr. Kazem! So good to see you. Do you have the picture?

Forty Seven: Yes… Your problem is… fixed.

Carl Ingram: Omar said you were good. Let’s get down to the important business at hand. Okay, people-clear the room. I need to discuss some delicate business with Mr. Kazem.

Lucas Grey: (via radio) Perfect. We have Ingram right where we want him. 47, you know what to do.

Carl Ingram: …Have a drink, see the view - it’s something to behold. Now, where was I? Oh, that’s right… My men here will stay for the meeting. I assume that will not be a problem. Either way, you have no choice in the matter. It’s interesting we haven’t come across each other before, Mr. Kazem… well, maybe not—I usually have my people talk to people like you.

Forty Seven: I can imagine.

Carl Ingram: I don’t know how much Omar… I mean, the Royal Highness, has told you, but my guess is very little. So let me get straight to the point. My organization has been hit by an unpleasant cancer, that can only be removed by cutting it out of the gut, if you get my drift.

Forty Seven: Yes… I do.

Carl Ingram: Good. This little turd is spreading his vile toxic cells and I want him stopped… brutally. Chemo won’t remove him… only the knife. I have his file here: Arthur Edwards, a sly little devil if there ever was one. Me and my… associates, well, we underestimated the little worm… we want revenge.

Forty Seven: I think you and I share a common interest.

Carl Ingram: I doubt that. But I want you to make him suffer. This is not a horse that needs to be put out of its misery. This is a rabid dog that needs to be put down. Am I making myself clear… Mr… Kazem?

Forty Seven: Yes. Consider it done.

Carl Ingram: Good. We are now in business.

Forty Seven: We are.

Carl Ingram: I’ll have Miss To send you anything you need. We’re done here. Oh, one last question… I’m just curious. You’re nicknamed "The Vulture". Why?

Forty Seven: It’s best to wait… for the perfect kill.

Carl Ingram: I think you’ll be perfect for the job. Nice to meet you, Mr. Kazem. I look forward to receiving an update. Safe hunting. Guard!

Guard: Yes, Mr. Ingram?

Carl Ingram: Please show Mr. Kazem out.

Guard: Yes sir. Mr. Kazem? Please follow me. Mr.Kazem. You need to listen to me - follow me and don’t get sidetracked!

How The Mighty Fall

MISSION STORY: How The Mighty Fall
Facilitate Grey’s revenge
(voice of Lucas Grey) Listen, I want to talk to the partners directly, make them understand why all of this is happening. And that terminal gives me an idea. There’s a server room near the Sheikh’s personal reception. If you can gain access to it, we might be able to recover useful intel from it. We’ll have to work together to hack the system, but it’s our best shot.

Lucas Grey: (via radio) You ready for some more fresh air, 47?

[Forty Seven enters the staff room.]

Lucas Grey: (via radio) There’s a keypad lock on the doors to the staff area. One moment. Alright, try this. 4-7-0-6. The server room should be behind one of the doors in this hallway.

[Forty Seven infiltrates the heart of the security complex disguised as one of the officers. He approaches the terminal.]

Lucas Grey: (via radio) Hm, a calendar function. We can use this to summon the Partners to a fake meeting, 47. All right, I’m no hacker like Olivia, but I think you need to pull one of the racks here to gain access to the terminal. Dammit, a silent alarm has been tripped. Security is on its way. Hide, 47!

Guard 1: Everything looks just fine. Damn IT guys and their stupid equipment.

Guard 2 : I’m sick of coming down here…

Lucas Grey: (via radio) Yes… Sorry about that, 47. Let’s try again, shall we? Ah, I think I’ve got it. We’ll need a keycard to gain access. Someone in maintenance should have one we can borrow for a spell.

Maintenance Worker: (on the phone) Hey. It’s me. I thought about what you said… Yeah, I changed my mind. It was an insane idea to start with. Exploding golf ball? I don’t want blood on my hands. I have never taken things to such an extreme before… Yes, I promise I’ll start attending anger management… I know I have issues. Admittance, that’s the first step, right? Anyway, I’ve locked the golf ball up in the maintenance scrub. Not that many of us have keys, and people tend to stay out of that room anyways… so no one will get hurt. I’ll take it home when my shift is over… I love you too. I’ll be home as soon as possible. Bye.

[While she was engrossed in the conversation, Forty Seven knocks out the guard and steals the card.]

Lucas Grey: (via radio) That must have done something. Can you see anything different in the room? Good, we’re in. Now all you need to do is access the terminal and use the calendar option to summon the Providence Partners to a meeting. Good work. The meeting has been booked. The partners should be moving up here shortly. Hm, looks like the lounge can be sealed off for private conversations. Handy. Excellent. I see the Partners moving. You should join their meeting. Time to end this, 47. Building cameras are now disabled.

[Forty Seven goes up to the meeting room.]

Lucas Grey: (via radio) The partners are alone now. I’ll activate the panel controlling the room’s security features. When you’re ready, use it to start the show.

[Forty Seven hides not far from Marcus and Carl, sitting on the couch and talking.]

Carl Ingram: He wouldn’t call us up here without good reason. I trust his people have multiple scenarios ready for us very soon. Which reminds me. We need to discuss Alexa.

Marcus Stuyvesant: (smirks) What’s there to discuss? She left us. At the host critical moment, she abandoned ship. That family has never been trustworthy and Alexa just proved to us that she, and indeed any of her heirs, isn’t up to the task.

Carl Ingram: I agree she displayed extremely poor judgement. I hope Omar is able to step up. At this time in particular we need a solid foundation to rebuild from. And someone to help us hit that traitor Edwards where it hurts.

Marcus Stuyvesant: Oh, he’ll get what’s coming to him.

Carl Ingram: You know, Marcus, my father taught me many things throughout my life. Loyalty. Respect. Dedication. Edwards has betrayed all of those. I look forward to teaching him the most important thing my father ever taught me. The power of fear.

Marcus Stuyvesant: I think it’s safe to say this situation has revealed some structural weaknesses in our organization. We deal with them swiftly and as harshly as we been taught by our predecessors… Now, what’s holding up the Sheikh?

[Forty Seven activates the building’s defenses. The windows are closed by tight steel shutters.]

Marcus Stuyvesant: What’s this? Carl, did you do that?

Carl Ingram: I certainly did not. I have no idea what’s going on.

[A huge TV is turned on in the room. Forty Seven gets closer to the couch where Marcus and Carl are sitting.]

Lucas Grey: (on TV) Gentlemen.

Carl Ingram: What’s the meaning of this?

Marcus Stuyvesant: You! You’re the one responsible for all this. Grey, what do you want?

Lucas Grey: (on TV) Something that has been a long time due. Revenge.

Carl Ingram: Revenge? How banal! YOU killed Cobb, Novikov, Caruso, The Washington Twins, everyone at HAVEN. YOU broke into our bank and YOU outed Providence to the world. Whatever perceived sleight we’ve done to you is insignificant to the amount of damage you’ve caused us. You’ve caused the world!

Marcus Stuyvesant: You’re a murderous terrorist, nothing more. What did we ever do to you anyway?

Lucas Grey: (on TV) You specifically? Nothing. Providence? Everything. Providence made me. And at the flick of a pen, Providence broke me. I’m just returning the favor. Providence has ruined the lives of countless people, expecting and facing no consequence for its actions. You take for yourselves and those who support you, and you burn everyone and everything else to the ground from the comfort of the shadows. No more.

Marcus Stuyvesant: You’re delusional!

Carl Ingram: Exposing us achieved nothing beyond moving a few pieces around on a board much more complicated than you can fathom. The world believes we’re dead. What more do you want?

Lucas Grey: (on TV) Me? Nothing. My friend, however, well… Let’s just say he’s a bit of an expert. I’m just here to watch you die. 47. Finish it.

[Forty Seven sneaks up behind him and throws a knife into Marcus’ neck. He dies so quietly that Karl doesn’t even notice it.]

Carl Ingram: Grey, what do you want? Gotta get out of here! Where the hell is that security panel?!

[Forty Seven distracts Carl by throwing a banana at his head and then stabbing him in the stomach.]

Lucas Grey: (via radio) Not a patient man, are you? Finally, Stuyvesant and Ingram are gone. Providence will soon be no more than a bad memory. 47, thank you. I’ll meet you at the rendezvous on the edge of town.

[Forty Seven hides the bodies and quietly leaves the room. Once out on the balcony, he changes his clothes and jumps down, disappearing into the clouds.]

THE MAN BEHIND THE CURTAIN

[Forty Seven meets Lucas in town.]

Lucas Grey: If that’s your winning face, I’d hate to see you lose.

Forty Seven: We underestimated the Constant.

Lucas Grey: He’s a glorified desk clerk.

Forty Seven: He’s not just after the money. He wants it all.

Lucas Grey: We caught him once, we can do it again. And… well… we’re not the ones who let him escape.

Forty Seven: You still don’t trust her.

Lucas Grey: I don’t like executive decision makers. Look… you don’t have to follow her, you know. Soon, this will be over. Maybe it’s time to think about the future. You have to face the possibility that there’s no going back. If the ICA knows what you did…

Forty Seven: She’ll make it right. She always does.

Lucas Grey: We have a fix on Carlisle. Come on. We got a plane to catch. I hope you like the rain, 47.

[Meanwhile, Diana receives an interesting call…]

The Constant: (via phone) Miss Burnwood.

Diana Burnwood: How did you—

The Constant: (via phone) I have everyone’s number. You really ought to know by now.

Diana Burnwood: You planned this. All of it.

The Constant: (via phone) Don’t be silly. I just played the hand I was dealt.

Diana Burnwood: We’ll find you.

The Constant: (via phone) You had me. Where’d that get you?

Diana Burnwood: We handed you an empire.

The Constant: (via phone) It’s for the best. The Partners were complacent. Set in their ways. But power is more than just security. Providence can be an agent of change. Surely, you understand. Or you will… soon enough.

END OF THE LINE

[Forty Seven and Lucas arrive in Dartmoor, England. In the distance, a large family mansion sits in the fog.]

Forty Seven: She came home.

Lucas Grey: Carlisle’s lost an empire. You fall hard enough and you tend to be reminded of what truly matters. So… the end of the line. You’re ready for this?

Forty Seven: Are you? Who will you be without a score to settle?

Lucas Grey: I guess the "world’s most wanted fugitive" will have to do.

Diana Burnwood: (briefing) Alexa Carlisle… is dead. According to the funeral invitation, that is. So, naturally, it caused quite a stir when the late matriarch turned up at the breakfast table, alive and kicking. Carlisle, wisely sensing that her number is up, has emerged from exile to tie up loose ends and secure the Carlisle legacy. She may be a monster, but you have to admire her due diligence. Carlisle descends from an ancient line of warrior aristocrats. Her great-grandfather made a killing in the second opium war and established an empire in shipping, railroads and newspaper publishing. While largely unknown to the public, the family still asserts its quiet dominance over global transport and logistics, media and technology. Most senior of the partners, Alexa Carlisle is cold as ice, tough as nails and sharp as a razor. Incidentally, it was her late father who first brought the three families together after the end of WW2 at this very house. Meaning that this, gentlemen… is the birthplace of Providence.

Lucas Grey: It began here and it ends here. Talk about poetic.

Diana Burnwood: (via radio) One more thing: according to our intel, Carlisle keeps a case file on the Constant. Information that may be helpful in his recapture. So don’t leave the estate without it.

Lucas Grey: Right. Happy hunting, 47. See you on the other side.

DEATH IN THE FAMILY/DARTMOOR

TARGET: ALEXA CARLISLE
The Carlisle family is of ancient English origin.
Their earliest known ancestor was knighted during the War of the Roses, and for centuries, the Carlisles lived a comfortable but quiet existence among the rural nobility, far removed from the halls of power.
This all changed in the 1850s, when the shrewd and enterprising Ichabod Carlisle, turned a fortune in the Second Opium War and subsequently established a global business empire in SHIPPING, RAILROADS and NEWSPAPER PUBLISHING.
They maintained strong ties to the Crown, securing lucrative contracts throughout the yet powerful British empire. During the 20th century, the Carlisles invested heavily in transportation and broadcasting and to this day, the Carlisle Group manages a diverse portfolio of shipping and logistics companies, airlines, newspapers and cable networks such as GNN.
In the aftermath of WW2, Thomas Alexander Carlisle saw an opportunity to take unprecedented control of the flailing global markets. Approaching the heirs to the Stuyvesant and Ingram empires, both college fraternity brothers, Thomas proposed pooling their already vast assets and resources and establishing the corporate superstructure that would henceforth be known as Providence. Ever since, the Carlisles have retreated from public view and few outside the English aristocracy recognize the name. The family is immensely wealthy but their true currency is influence.
In recent decades, the Carlisles have been investing heavily in technology companies, playing a large but unseen role in the rise of social media and the post-truth era. Thus crucial Providence assets such as Ether Corp (biotech), Kronstadt Industries (robotics), Dynasty Global (online retail), and Quantum Leap (consumer tech) are all largely controlled by the Carlisle family.
ALEXA CARLISLE (75), the current head of the family, is the most senior Providence, Partner and the power cabal’s unofficial leader. Cold as ice and sharp as a razor, Alexa is regal, proud, and dignified and displays the kind of blunt rudeness that only people of nobility get away with.
In her youth, Alexa was married to the aristocratic naval officer Lyndon James Wittingworth, with whom she has three adult children: Gregory, Edward, and Rebecca. Lyndon, by then an accomplished alcoholic, died in an automobile accident in 1978 and Alexa never remarried.
A secondborn child, Alexa never expected to become head of family. That responsibility would befall the firstborn son, Alexa’s older brother, Montgomery, Instead, graduating first in class from Cambridge, Alexa made a meteoric rise within the male-dominated shipping industry of the 1970s-determined to succeed by merit alone.
But soon tragedy befell the Carlisle family, changing Alexa’s trajectory forever.
Her older brother Montgomery took a fatal tumble from a balcony at the Carlisle’s ancestral estate and his death hit the youngest sibling, Zachary, hard. Following a mental breakdown and institutionalization, Zachary abandoned his own promising career and shielded himself at Thornbridge Manor, where he has lived quietly as a recluse ever since.
Fresh out of capable male heirs, Thomas Carlisle had no choice but to fast-track Alexa to become the new head of family and - by extension - a future Partner of Providence.
Alexa took to her new apprenticeship with ruthless ambition and an uncanny knack for geo-political manipulations, quickly becoming the key architect behind Providence’s expansion into non-western territories. She played a hand in orchestrating the War of the Falklands in a ploy to dethrone the military junta and along with the first Constant, Janus, she shrewdly played both sides of the Cold War to Providence’s advantage. In the 1960s, her father had backed an obscure Romanian research facility, the "Institute for Human Betterment," which operated a cutting-edge human enhancement program and Alexa was instrumental in turning the Institute into a proper assassination service not to mention the eventual wipe’ of its subjects. A decision which would one day cost her dearly.
As Thomas grew older and slowly succumbed to alzheimers, Alexa gained more and more responsibility. She finally assumed the position as full Providence Partner in 1988.
For more than three decades, she was secretly the most powerful woman on Earth. But now, the tectonic plates of power are shifting. Of the three Partners, only Alexa sees the writing on the wall, realizing with a trademark lack of sentimentality that Providence is lost to the machinations of their top controller, Arthur Edwards.
All that is left now, is to preserve the Carlisle family legacy. And perhaps to die with dignity.

Diana Burnwood: (briefing) Thornbridge Manor. The Carlisle family’s home for countless generations. The revenant Alexa Carlisle and her three adult children, younger brother Zachary, grandson and daughter-in-law are all gathered to conduct Carlisle’s sham funeral. Curiously, Carlisle summoned a famous London Pl soon after arriving this morning, but his purpose at Thornbridge is yet unclear. Now, the target knows that you’re coming and her guard detail is top notch. So Mr. Grey will secure their nearby field HQ and intercept all calls going in and out of the estate. Any appeal for backup is going to fall on very deaf ears. Good luck, gentlemen.

[Forty Seven drives up to the mansion on his motorcycle he goes to the main gate of the gloomy mansion and hides in the bushes. A young man approaches the guard.]

Guard: This is a private area, sir.

Lucas Grey: Phineas Witmer, private investigator, I have an appointment with Madam Carlisle.

Guard: Please wait. Mr. Witmer is here to see Madam Carlisle. You can go right in.

Diana Burnwood: (via radio) That is Phineas Witmer, the famous private investigator hired by Madam Carlisle this morning. I’m curious why he’s here. Maybe you should do some detecting yourself, 47.

Means, Motive and Opportunity

MISSION STORY: Means, Motive And Opportunity
Solve the mystery at Thornbridge Manor
(voice of Diana Burnwood) A famous Private Investigator summoned by Alexa Carlisle, has arrived at Thornbridge Manor. If you take his place, it may be an opportunity to get close to Madam Carlisle…

[The maid lets the detective into the manor.]

Maid: I know I oughtn’t say anything; but, I’m so relieved you’re here! Everything’s just so strange. Preparing for madam’s funeral and then she turns up alive. But then, the awful business with her brother Zachary. And, and all this security. I’ve never seen the place guarded like this - and I dare say I don’t like it at all. This is what I mean. You have to be patted down before you see Madam Carlisle inside. I could just cry.

Guard at the door: Sir, I just need to check.

Phineas Witmer: That’s a bit excessive, I think, considering the fact that I spotted no less than two routes to get inside the house unseen.

Guard at the door: We know what we’re doing, sir. Don’t worry about that.

While the detective is being searched, Forty Seven enters the manor through a window. He hides and waits until the detective is alone before sneaking up on him and killing him. After dressing in his clothes, Forty Seven hides the corpse in a closet and walks out into the foyer, where he meets Alexa Carlisle.

Alexa Carlisle: Mr. Witmer, thank you for coming on such short notice. A great tragedy has fallen upon us and I need a quick resolution handled with absolute discretion.

Forty Seven: Results and discretion are my specialty.

Alexa Carlisle: Very well. I suppose you will want to start at the crime scene.

Forty Seven: In my experience, a thorough examination of a potential crime scene is half the job done.

Alexa Carlisle: Good. Fernsby will take over from here.

Mr. Fernsby: I am Mr. Fernsby, the butler. Madam Carlisle has asked me to assist you in any way possible. Mr. Witmer, I understand that you’ve traveled from London. Would you care for some refreshments or do you prefer to go straight to Mr. Zachary’s sleeping quarters?

Forty Seven: I prefer to get started.

Mr. Fernsby: As you wish. If you’ll follow me, sir.

Woman: (from afar) I think Patrick is giving you a really hard time. You deserve better than that, Lawrence.

Lawrence: (from afar) I’m fine. It’s all part of the job.

Mr. Fernsby: (to 47) I feel obliged to point out that current affairs surrounding Madam Carlisle are of a delicate nature. You may be familiar with the recent announcement of her death? You will probably learn that a staged funeral is scheduled to take place tomorrow. Madam’s children were not informed until this morning that their mother was in fact not dead at all. So please bear with them if they seem affected by the rather unusual situation. I trust I do not need to remind you, that there will be consequences if word gets out that Madam Carlisle is still alive?

Forty Seven: I’ll consider her dead when I leave.

Mr. Fernsby: Before you inspect the crime scene, I will tell you this. The case concerns the death of Mr. Zachary, Madam Carlisle’s younger brother. He was found dead in his bed this morning. The door was locked from the inside and a suicide letter was found in his room. However, Madam Carlisle suspects foul play, and will not accept that he took his own life. I’ve prepared some information for you, so please do come and see me when you’ve finished your investigation of the crime scene. This is Mr. Zachary’s room to my right.

Diana Burnwood: (via radio) A locked-room-murder mystery, 47. I trust you’ll get to the bottom of this.

[Pretending to be a detective, Forty Seven investigates the murder scene.]

Diana Burnwood: (via radio) Zachary was shopping for new wellingtons last night. Not exactly what you would expect from someone suicidal.

INTEL: Zachary’s Laptop
A laptop in Zachary Carlisle’s bedroom, showing that Zachary was shopping for Wellington boots last night.

Diana Burnwood: (via radio) Zachary’s suicide note. Also, a sample of handwriting. It could be relevant to compare to other samples to establish its authenticity.

INTEL: Zachary’s Suicide Note
Suicide note found in Zachary Carlisle’s bedroom. It reads: "lam haunted by horrible past choices and their all consuming consequences. Alexa was the raft keeping me afloat. Without her I cannot go on. Goodbye." Signed Zachary.

Diana Burnwood: (via radio) Why don’t you use your camera to scan the dead body, 47?

Forty Seven: Throat markings indicate a rare, short-lived plant poison killed him. Spread shows time of death at around 10 o’clock last night.

Diana Burnwood: (via radio) You do know your poisons, 47.

[Forty Seven examines the decanter of whiskey and then approaches the bookcase. Turning one of the books, he opens a secret passage.]

Forty Seven: A hidden door.

Diana Burnwood: (via radio) It’s a secret passage. This could explain how the door was locked from the inside. Hmm, a photocopy of the floorplans… Somebody’s been researching the secret ins and outs of Thornbridge Manor. I believe you’ve done a thorough search of the crime scene, 47. Maybe it’s time to see the butler. I’m curious about the information he’s prepared for you.

Forty Seven: Mr. Fernsby, I’m done with the crime scene.

Mr. Fernsby: Did you establish a time of death?

Forty Seven: Zachary died around 10 o’clock last night.

Mr. Fernsby: That means the staff were off duty - and Madam Carlisle and her security didn’t arrive until this morning. That leaves madam’s family - and myself as the only persons here when he died. And before you ask, no. I do not have an alibi. I was alone in my office at the time of death. Here’s the material that I’ve prepared for you. It’s a list of the possible suspects and their quarters. Hopefully, that will help you keep track of your findings. Please come and see me when you’ve solved the case, and I will take you to Madam Carlisle.

INTEL: Zachary Carlisle
Zachary Carlisle, Alexa’s younger brother and fellow resident of Thornbridge Manor. Zachary was found dead in his bed this morning, and despite a suicide note and doors locked from the inside, Alexa is convinced he was murdered.

Diana Burnwood: (via radio) So, how does one solve a murder mystery, 47? Motive, means and opportunity, I believe. May I suggest you ask the suspects for alibis? Or perhaps, you prefer searching the manor for clues first?

[Forty Seven goes to question Patrick, Alexa’s grandson, who’s on the phone.]

Patrick Carlisle: Calm down… Yes, I understand - I’m sure we can come to some arrangement. But you really need to talk to Anthony, he’s the man with the papers. Listen you know who I am, who my grandmother is-er, was right? Just relax. It’ll be fine. You’ll get your returns. Don’t worry. Give Anthony a call, okay?

Forty Seven: Patrick Carlisle, can you tell me where you were yesterday evening.

Patrick Carlisle: Shit! It’s that sneaky butler isn’t it? He ratted me out. Elaine, give us some privacy, would you? (to 47) Don’t tell Mother, okay? She’s really tense these days, and the last thing I need is more hassle. …I took that pretty blonde… Rosie? …For an… evening stroll. I mean, how the fuck am I expected to cope for an entire weekend in this shithole. I’m bored out of my mind. If that’s all I think I’ll get back to my slow death by boredom.

Forty Seven: What did you think of Zachary?

Patrick Carlisle: Creepy as hell. No ambition! Imagine deciding to live in a museum? You know, Father says Zachary and Alexa used to be two of a kind. He had a great future ahead of him. Then, suddenly he just gave up everything. What an idiot. Thank God Daddy chose looks and brains over pedigree when he married Mummy. I don’t have to worry about the inbreeding so customary in these circles… So, is that it?

Forty Seven: Did you see anything suspicious last night?

Patrick Carlisle: Nahh… I reckon Zachary topped himself. I know I would’ve. Or perhaps Mr. Fernsby. I don’t like him. He could’ve done it.

[Forty Seven goes to interrogate the next witness and finds Alexa looking at pictures of her relatives.]

Alexa Carlisle: If you only knew what we face. I wonder what you would do. Attack? Regroup? Close the gates and wait it out?

Diana Burnwood: (via radio) That is the door to Rebecca’s room.

[However, the door is closed. Forty Seven gets out and climbs through the open window of Rebecca’s room. He turns the painting around and opens a secret passage and overhears a conversation between Alexa and a bald man through a hole in the wall.]

Alexa Carlisle: Yates better well have a damn good reason for not being here in person. Christ! You really don’t have a clue do you. I’m talking about that weasel Arthur Edwards. Can we get back what he stole from me?

Bald Man: So far it… looks like we can’t. All the transfers of funds and privileges I’ve been through have been bulletproof. He intercepted the arrangements our office worked years to put in place.

Alexa Carlisle: That’s why Don Yates should be here. He made the arrangements - he should bloody well be the one to clean up this whole mess.

Bald Man: I er… I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry?

Alexa Carlisle: Don’t kill the messenger, Alexa. Please, continue your efforts, Mr. Ford.

[Forty Seven goes into Rebecca’s secret room and examines her laptop.]

INTEL: Rebecca’s Laptop
Rebecca Carlisle’s laptop, found in the bedroom in which she is staying. Logs on the laptop reveal that Rebecca was in a conference call for several hours around 10 PM last night.

Diana Burnwood: (via radio) I can see from the log that Rebecca was in a conference call from 9pm to midnight last night.

[Forty Seven scans a stack of documents, then makes his way to Mr. Ford’s office. After knocking out his guard, he knocks out Mr. Ford and sits down at his laptop.]

Diana Burnwood: (via radio) This all confirms that Arthur Edwards stole everything from Madam Carlisle. Perhaps you should let her know how bad it is, 47.

INTEL: The Lawyer’s Files
Files found on the lawyer’s laptop, revealing that Alexa Carlisle has lost control of all of her assets, including Thornbridge Manor.

[Forty Seven disguises himself as Mr. Ford and overhears Alexa and the butler talking.]

Mr. Fernby: I received the Vault Token for the Milton Fitzpatrick London bank. Did I understand correctly that I should give it to Rebecca in case of your death?

Alexa Carlisle: Exactly. She holds the other one. I want her to have the file on Arthur Edwards if I die.

INTEL: A Copy of the Case File
Alexa Carlisle has stored a copy of the case file on Arthur Edwards in a deposit box in the London branch of the Milton-Fitzpatrick bank. The deposit box can be accessed by presenting a set of two tokens, currently held by Alexa’s daughter Rebecca and Mr. Fernsby, the butler.

Mr. Fernby: You’re not fearful she will be in trouble if she knows?

Alexa Carlisle: She will start digging when she realizes things don’t add up inevitably getting her in trouble. I’d rather she knew who she’s up against. She’s clever and resourceful. Who knows maybe she’ll be able to hit him where it hurts. But I don’t want her to get involved prematurely. Hopefully, she’ll never have to get involved at all. You faced great obstacles too, I know. We will persevere.

[Forty Seven approaches Alexa.]

Forty Seven: It is my duty to make that happen. I’ve received more information about your situation.

Alexa Carlisle: Mr. Ford, we can’t talk here. Go back to your office. I will be there shortly. What’s the verdict, Mr. Ford? Undoubtedly some of my assets must be safe.

Forty Seven: No. Everything is gone.

Alexa Carlisle: Not Thornbridge Manor, surely?

Forty Seven: That too.

Alexa Carlisle: But that’s not possible! I’ll kill him, I swear. If it’s the last thing I do. Thank you, Mr.Ford, that will be all.

[Forty Seven disguises himself as a detective again and approaches Emma.]

Forty Seven: Emma Carlisle, can you tell me where you were yesterday evening.

Emma Carlisle: Surely, I’m not a suspect!

Forty Seven: I need to account for everyone.

Emma Carlisle: Well, I spent the evening with my family, but I got an awful migraine and had to take to bed. Everyone can attest to that. I believe I went up when the boys sat down for a drink around 8 O’clock. Is that all?

Forty Seven: How did you feel about Zachary?

Emma Carlisle: I might as well be honest: His presence was always awkward. How do you have a meaningful conversation with a man who only cares about plants? In my opinion, Alexa bears some responsibility for how this ended. She supported his self-limiting behavior by letting him live here. Anything else you want to know?

Forty Seven: Have you noticed anything else out of the ordinary?

Emma Carlisle: Somebody should document this historic moment: Nothing special comes to mind. Except, perhaps, I did get a feeling that Zachary was depressed. Not just sad. I suppose he realized that he had no one with Alexa gone. Even Alexa must feel the pangs of guilt over that one, letting him believe she was dead. Then again, guilt isn’t her strong suit.

[Alexa gathers all her relatives in the living room for an announcement.]

Alexa Carlisle: Right, let’s get started, I want to keep this short. I know you have a lot of questions. Some I will answer now-the rest will have to wait. First: Zachary’s sudden death is a great tragedy but also a great inconvenience as it happened just now. I’m dealing with the situation in a discreet and efficient way and I expect your cooperation in all related matters. Secondly: The arranged funeral event tomorrow will take place as planned. No one can know that I am still alive. I expect you all to act your part. Last: As you all know, I have a lot on my plate and need to focus on sorting everything out. So, please, do not disturb me with your petty concerns. You are all adults and as part of the elite, you will eventually have to deal with difficult situations like this. It comes late for most of you - but this is a chance for you to show what you are made of. That will be all.

[Forty Seven approaches Rebecca to question her.]

Forty Seven: Rebecca Carlisle, can you tell me about yesterday evening.

Rebecca Carlisle: We don’t really see much of each other, my brothers and I… I suppose it takes our mother’s funeral to bring us together and even then, it’s not like we sit on each other’s laps… Now, let’s see… Patrick, Gregory’s son disappeared straight off the dinner… …you know, I think he might be in some sort of trouble… Edward wanted to go as well, but Gregory convinced him to stay for a few drinks before they went off for a pint at the local at a-quarter-to-nine. I swear Gregory enjoys Edward’s discomfort over staying here. I had a conference call with my New York office at nine. So, I spent 3 hours on my laptop in my room and went straight to bed afterwards. I don’t know about Emma. She did act a bit strange… You know… I bet she was making lists for changes needing to be done, once she gets her hands on Thornbridge Manor. Quite the shock she had when Mother arrived during breakfast. Is there anything else you want to ask me?

Forty Seven: Tell me about Zachary? Did he act strange last night?

Rebecca Carlisle: You know, now you mention it. He was a lot more chatty than usual. He wanted to know about my connections in the publishing business. Apparently, a friend of his is writing a book which strikes me as very peculiar. I didn’t think he had any friends… Is that everything, Mr. Witmer? I do have a lot to see to.

Forty Seven: Anything else you feel like mentioning?

Rebecca Carlisle: I may be wrong, but I saw Mr. Fernsby - the butler - leave Zachary’s room early this afternoon. And he seemed a bit startled when he saw me in the hallway. It’s probably nothing. Oh, and one more thing. Please be kind to Edward - he can only take so much.

Gregory Carlisle: Ahh, my perfect mother! Who would have thought? You fucked up, didn’t you? Staging your own death. A major, grandiose cock up, I’d say.

Alexa Carlisle: Be quiet, Gregory.

Gregory Carlisle: Shows you’re only human after all. I never would have guessed.

Forty Seven: Gregory Carlisle, can you tell me where you were yesterday evening.

Gregory Carlisle: You’re wondering about my alibi, Mr. Detective? Well I left Thombridge around half-eight for a pint with Edward. I wish I hadn’t: Quiz night at the inn. On the other hand, staying here with Zachary, my obnoxious sister and the wife sporting another one of her "headaches" would have been a fate worse than death. The short of it, Zachary was very much alive when we left. I stayed for the last shout and I was back here just before midnight. Anything else you want to pry from my intricate intellect?

Forty Seven: Tell me about Zachary.

Gregory Carlisle: Zach? Such a sad, old sod. A bit heavy on the bottle. But who would blame him? Only company he had was his rare plants and Mother who travels more than she stays here. Honestly, I can’t say which is the bigger bore. He’s better off dead. Is that all? Not very thorough, are you?

Forty Seven: Anything else you’d like to tell me?

Gregory Carlisle: Nothing, really. I’m just enjoying the show Our perfect mother obviously fucked up, didn’t she? Faking her own death.
You know, she’s explained nothing to us. I think she’s scared to own up to her own mistake.

[Next, Forty Seven goes to interrogate Edward, who is drinking in the piano room. You can tell from his face and voice that he is on the verge of a nervous breakdown.]

Forty Seven: Professor Edward Carlisle, can you tell me your whereabouts for last night?

Edward Carlisle: Oh yes, this dreadful business with Zachary. I stay at the local inn. You see, I prefer not to spend the night here at Thornbridge Manor. My brother Gregory came along for a nightcap. He’ll never admit it, but I think he understands that I find this whole thing upsetting, and wanted to provide some comfort… I believe we went to the Staggs Head around half-past-eight. Anything else I can do to help?

Forty Seven: Can you tell me about Zachary’s behavior last night?

Edward Carlisle: I certainly didn’t expect him to commit suicide. Sure, he was upset by Mother’s supposed death - we all were - but he seemed more engaged than usual. You should ask Rebecca; they had a long talk. Did you know that he hadn’t left Thornbridge Manor in nearly 50 years? His plants, Mother and the staff were all the company he had. If that’s all? I have a speech to write…

Forty Seven: Did you notice anything else out of the ordinary?

Edward Carlisle: You mean apart from the fact that we came here to bury our mother, and she shows up alive and kicking? Zachary found dead in his bed this morning? Or perhaps that the planned funeral is still taking place and I have to do the eulogy. And Mother will surely have a strong opinion on it afterwards… I… I can’t breathe. Excuse me… (practicing his speech) You always led by example rather than by words and meaningless gestures… Like hugs, encouragement. Just a single spontaneous caress, what a difference that would have made. Right. I clearly remember when I was 5. I climbed a tree and could not make my way down. I was scared and called out for help. Of all people you heard me and when you saw me you climbed the tree. I was relieved that help had finally arrived. But you went down immediately and said:

Mr. Fernsby: Can I help you in any way, Mr. Edward?

Edward Carlisle: Fernsby, thank you, no. I’m afraid not.

Mr. Fernsby: Some fresh air may do you good?

Edward Carlisle: It might. But I need to finish Mother’s eulogy for tomorrow. She doesn’t think I can do it, does she? Did she say anything to you?

Mr. Fernsby: Mr. Edward, your mother has very high standards. I’m under the impression they’re rarely met by anyone but herself.

Edward Carlisle: Oh, God. She expects me to fail.

Mr. Fernsby: Tomorrow will soon be over, and then you can put all this behind you. I’m sure you’ll do splendidly, just wait and see.

Edward Carlisle: I don’t know… I hope so.

[Forty Seven continues to explore the manor.]

Diana Burnwood: (via radio) That is the door to Mr.Fernsby’s office.

[Forty Seven goes into the servants’ room to hear what they think about what’s going on.]

Maid: Rosie, you need to forget about Patrick. No good’s gonna come of it. Stick to your own kind.

Rosie: You mean like Chris? He treated me like shit! All he wanted to do was play his stupid video games. Never any romance. I deserve romance.

Servant 1: Did all the groceries arrive? I heard some of the delivery people were unhappy with the security at the gate? But all that is sale with Ethel. She never misses a step. Gossiping and work both.

Servant 2: Fake funeral tomorrow, Zachary found dead upstairs today, Death is everywhere! I never thought of it that way. Oh, God. It’s such a big responsibility having a baby. I have to protect it, right? How do you even do that? I can’t do that.

Mr. Fernsby: How are things coming along outside? Will everything be ready for the funeral event tomorrow.

Servant 3: I would say so, Mr.Fernsby. As long as the birds don’t make too much of a mess.

Servant 4: May I add that the undertaker, Mr. Parsons, is not happy about putting on a pretend funeral. He’s worried about his reputation if it gets out.

Mr. Fernsby: Yes, I expected as much.

Servant 3: These certainly are strange days… I suppose we will never get an explanation.

Mr. Fernsby: It’s not our place to question Madam Carlisle.

Servant 3: No, I know. Can’t help but wonder…

[Mr. Fernsby leaves.]

Servant 2: I’m getting a headache from all the decisions. I mean pram or stroller? Comforter or not? Should I ask her to marry me? What if she says no? And then this big funeral-thing tomorrow. Last thing I need.

Servant 3: I remember how it was with the first one. The ones that come after certainly are a lot less of a worry.

[Forty Seven decides to question the maid, Rosie.]

Forty Seven: Rosie, tell me what you did last night.

Rosie: I’m in trouble, aren’t I? I… I spent the evening with Patrick. We met after dinner and I went home at 1 in the morning. He said he needed someone real to talk to. When he looks at you it makes you feel like the center of the universe. Like a real princess.

Maid: But now he just ignores her…

Rosie: He’s under a lot of pressure…

Maid: He’s an idiot, that’s what he is…

Forty Seven: Did you notice anything out of the ordinary? Any strangers outside the house?

Rosie: No, no, we saw no one outside… except Patrick’s mother, Emma. We were sitting on the bench behind the greenhouse talking when she came out and we had to hide. You won’t tell her about me and Patrick will you. She’d insist Madam Carlisle fire me. I’m sure of it.

Maid: Too right she will! She’s always going on about how things will change once she’s in charge of Thornbridge Manor.

[Forty Seven exits the servants’ room and looks for the next member of the Carlisle family to interrogate, eavesdropping on conversations along the way.]

Servant 2: How are things coming along inside? Is everything ready for tomorrow?

Servant 3: I can’t deal with all this pretend funeral stuff just now. I know I have to, but Amy thinks she might be pregnant. I’m gonna be a dad.

Servant 2: Amy is a great less. You love her, she loves you. And now a wee one on the way! I’d say you’re one lucky bastard.

[Forty Seven goes outside.]

Maid: Did Alice tell you what Emma did when she arrived?

Fruit Delivery Man: What is it now?

Maid: She turned up and demanded to be put up in Madam Carlisle’s bedroom. "We’re the new head of the family after all, it is only fitting," she said. Well… Gregory put a stop to that, which was a surprise; he normally accepts his wife’s outrageous behavior without batting an eyelid.

[Forty Seven finds Zachary’s office and breaks down the door with a crowbar. He searches the room.]

INTEL: Zachary’s Suicide Note
Suicide note found in Zachary Carlisle’s bedroom. It reads: "I am haunted by horrible past choices and their all consuming consequences. Alexa was the raft keeping me afloat. Without her I cannot go on. Goodbye." Signed Zachary.
Curiously, the handwriting does not match Zachary’s diary.

Diana Burnwood: (via radio) Zachary’s diary. This is big. He was about to confess to the world that he and Alexa murdered their older brother Montgomery 46 years ago. And apparently, Mr. Fernsby helped make the murder look like an accident. And, 47, the handwriting doesn’t match the suicide letter in his room, proving he didn’t write it himself.

Forty Seven: Painkillers. Lethal if you use enough of them.

Diana Burnwood: (via radio) But not the poison used to kill Zachary. Of course, Madam Carlisle doesn’t know that. Are you considering to frame the butler, 47? Mr. Fernsby clearly didn’t commit the murder, but I think you have enough evidence to convince Madam Carlisle he did. Maybe you should tell him you are ready to present your findings. Unless, of course, you want to do some more detecting, 47.

[Forty Seven decides to investigate further.]

Diana Burnwood: (via radio) That door leads to Emma and Gregory’s room.

[Forty Seven finds a key on the floor.]

Diana Burnwood: (via radio) A keychain pendant for the greenhouse. What’s that doing in Emma and Gregory’s room, I wonder. And why is the key missing?

INTEL: The Greenhouse
The greenhouse in which Zachary Carlisle grew exotic plants. The greenhouse is located in the rear end of the garden, behind the mansion.

INTEL: Letter From Emma’s Mother
A letter from Emma’s mother, found in the room in which Emma and Gregory Carlisle are staying. The letter details that Emma’s father was the late Montgomery Carlisle, Alexa and Zachary’s older brother, and that the two younger siblings murdered him. Apparently, the two murderers were unaware that Emma’s mother was expecting his child.

Diana Burnwood: (via radio) Now this is interesting, 47. A letter from Emma’s mother stating that Emma is the illegitimate child of Alexa’s late older brother Montgomery. And listen to this: she claims to have witnessed Alexa and Zachary murder him. The plot thickens.

[Forty Seven scans Emma’s shoes and goes outside looking for the footprints.]

A Day To Remember

[Forty Seven notices the maid talking to the photographer who has arrived to take a family photo for Madame Carlisle.]

Maid: Bad news, I’m afraid. We don’t have any extra fuses. Ethel looked everywhere.

Photographer: You’ve got to be kidding me! No power, no portrait.

Maid: Oh, Madam Carlisle will be furious. She expects the family photo to be done any moment now.

Photographer: I need this shoot to happen, okay? And I need it to be perfect. Can’t… Can’t we just take a fuse from another fuse box?

MISSION STORY: A Day To Remember
Take the role of the photographer
(voice of Diana Burnwood) So, Madam Carlisle wants a picture taken. If you were to assist with the missing fuse, I’m sure it would be one for the ages.

Maid: Er… I— I guess we could do that.

Photographer: Good. Look, I’ll finish setting up and then we’ll grab the fuse just before you call down the family.

Maid: Good… Yeah, that’s a good plan.

[Forty Seven visits the greenhouse, the key to which he recently found.]

Diana Burnwood: (via radio) Emma Carlisle in the greenhouse. How curious.

[Emma stands at the table and does something suspicious with flasks and beakers.]

Emma Carlisle: Damn it, I need this to work. Uh! You startled me! …I was just. I don’t know… thinking about Zachary. He spend most of his life in here. With… these plants. Not much of a life, is it? Well, anyway, I’ll be outside, if you need me. If you’d excuse me.

[She runs out of the greenhouse.]

Diana Burnwood: (via radio) Broken lab equipment. It looks like it was recently used, though.

INTEL: Poison Dosage Table
An encyclopedia of plant poisons found in the greenhouse. The book is opened to a table of lethal doses of a particular plant poison.

Forty Seven: This is a table showing lethal dosages for the poison used to kill Zachary.

Diana Burnwood: (via radio) Something is circled, 47. "Female, age 65-79, 60-64 kg." I’d say Madam Carlisle is next in line for a poisoning. You have uncovered enough evidence to tell Madam Carlisle that Emma is the murderer. Quite the detective, 47. I’m impressed. I suggest you go tell Mr. Fernsby. Unless you think there are more secrets to uncover.

[Forty Seven decides to visit the unperturbed butler and tell him what he has learned.]

Mr. Fernsby: (to a servant) So, forty-one guests will attend the funeral tomorrow. There’s still a lot to see to, but we’re in good time, I think.

Forty Seven: I’m ready to present my conclusion to Madame Carlisle.

Mr. Fernsby: Very well. If you’ll follow me, sir.

[Forty Seven follows the butler.]

Mr. Fernsby: This is Madam Carlisle’s office, please step inside.

Diana Burnwood: (via radio) Your detective skills have gained you access to the lion’s den, 47. Now, go claim your reward.

Alexa Carlisle: So, Mr. Witmer, you’ve reached a conclusion? Take a seat. Please go ahead.

Forty Seven: Your niece Emma Carlisle murdered your brother Zachary.

Alexa Carlisle: My niece? Emma is not my niece! She’s my daughter-in-law.

Forty Seven: And your niece. Emma is the illegitimate child of your late older brother Montgomery who you and Zachary killed 46 years ago.

Alexa Carlisle: That’s preposterous!

Forty Seven: You asked me to find out what happened to Zachary. Would you rather not know?

Alexa Carlisle: No. No, go on.

Forty Seven: I found a letter from Emma’s mother Jane - who was the fiance of your older brother at the time of his death. She witnessed how you and Zachary pushed him off the balcony. She believed you did it to steal the Carlisle empire from her and her unborn child - and she raised Emma to reclaim what she lost, marry your heir Gregory, get revenge and secure the Carlisle empire for her bloodline generations to come.

Alexa Carlisle: Emma is the daughter of Montgomery and that local girl - Jane.

Forty Seven: She is.

Alexa Carlisle: Well, the girl got it wrong. I didn’t steal anything. I did what was necessary to protect the future of the Carlisles. Montgomery wasn’t cut out to take over from Father. All heart and no balls.

Forty Seven: Emma used the funeral gathering to speed up her installment as the lady of the house, seizing the opportunity to stage Zachary’s suicide. She did her homework, used a poison made from one of Zachary’s rare plants - found old floorplans from Thornbridge Manor to gain access to his room through a secret passage.

Alexa Carlisle: That scheming bitch.

Forty Seven: More than you think. I found proof that she will try to poison you next.

Alexa Carlisle: Well, I’ll have to take care of that. Thank you, Mr. Witmer, you have not disappointed. I promised you I would reward you generously, if you solved the case. So, what do you suggest?

Forty Seven: I want the file you have on Arthur Edwards.

Alexa Carlisle: Edwards - the Constant? But how’d you… ahhh. I see. I expected you might show up, but to kill me, not help me. But I have been wrong on so many things lately, so why not this one… I will give you the file on Edwards - you’ve earned it. I don’t suppose I could convince you to deal with my daughter-in-law now you’re here? I would like to see her dead. No? What a shame. I’ll have to see to it some other way then. The file you want is in the safe. God, I hope you get Edwards and make him hurt. I need some privacy… Thank you.

INTEL: Case File on Arthur Edwards
The case file Alexa Carlisle has compiled on Arthur Edwards.

Diana Burnwood: (via radio) Good work, 47. That’s the file on Arthur Edwards secured. Time to take care of Madam Carlisle.

Emma Carlisle: Gregory don’t say more to that weird detective than you need to.

Gregory Carlisle: I was just having a laugh, dear. Must admit he’s pretty good!

Emma Carlisle: What if he believes we had something to do with Zachary’s death?

Gregory Carlisle: Oh, please…

Emma Carlisle: He’s circling us. I don’t see him snooping around your sister. I bet Alexa said something.

Gregory Carlisle: If I could be bothered, I’d be worried about your mental health, Emma. But, sorry, I’m having too much fun enjoying the circus.

Emma Carlisle: Augh…

[Forty Seven goes outside and eliminates the guards guarding the photographer.]

Rebecca Carlisle: (from afar) I’ll never get how the rich do things. All this fuss for a pretend funeral - and why not do a photoshoot because we are all gathered. Talk about messed up multi-tasking! And who’s carrying the lond. I’ll tell you who: us!

Edward Carlisle: …I can feel that pressure too.

[Forty Seven sneaks up on the photographer standing by the fuse box.]

Photographer: Ugh. This seriously needs to step into this century. It’s not safe at all. If - If this was back home, it would be a lawsuit waiting to happen.

[Forty Seven kills him and changes into his clothes. After replacing the fuse not far from the camera, he returns to the maid.]

Maid: Oop. Sounds like the power’s back up. Why don’t you take a picture to test it?

[Forty Seven takes a test shot.]

Forty Seven: It works. I’m ready for the shoot.

Maid: Perfect. I’ll call the family down now then.

Diana Burnwood: (via radio) Excellent 47. Madam Carlisle is on her way down for the family photo shoot. Let’s see if any memorable moments will play out in front of the camera.

[The Carlisle family begins to gather for a photo shoot.]

Gregory Carlisle: How’re you doing, Patrick?

Patrick Carlisle: Can’t wait for this weekend to end.

Gregory Carlisle: You know you’re witnessing something quite special.

Emma Carlisle: Hi. Good afternoon.

Gregory Carlisle: …Your grandmother putting on such a show!

Patrick Carlisle: How exciting. Wish I didn’t have to perform. It’s such a joke with the whole fake funeral tomorrow.

Gregory Carlisle: It is, isn’t it? It won’t last though. My mother will have things back in order in no time. That’s what she does, create precise order in all her affairs.

Emma Carlisle: I’m the youngest. Guess I just flew under the radar when it came to her attention.

Maid: Down by the fountain.

Edward Carlisle: I don’t think so. She really respects you.

Rebecca Carlisle: If you just stopped craving her approval… You’re nearly 50, Edward!

Edward Carlisle: I know. I’m such a loser.

Rebecca Carlisle: But you’re not! You’re a professor, you’re artistic, you’ve got your music. I mean that’s really something.

Edward Carlisle: It’s not exactly expanding the Carlisle empire though… But thanks, that does help a little.

Patrick Carlisle: I wish she’d hurry up. This place is sucking the life out of me.

Gregory Carlisle: It won’t hurt you to relax for a bit.

Maid: Right ahead, please.

Alexa Carlisle: (to 47) I expect you to be efficient. I have a lot to see to today.

Forty Seven: I’ll do my best.

Alexa Carlisle: Right, get in position, and let’s get this over with. There’s a puddle of water here. Well, never mind. Let’s just get this done, shall we.

[The whole family stands by the fountain. Alexa sits on the chair in the center.]

Gregory Carlisle: Chin up, Edward. No one wants to look at that long face.

Rebecca Carlisle: You’re such an idiot, Gregory.

Edward Carlisle: I’m fine, Rebecca.

Gregory Carlisle: Fine? You look like a nervous wreck.

Alexa Carlisle: Stop bickering, for Chrissake.

Gregory Carlisle: Well, Mother, you certainly know how to lighten the mood.

[Forty Seven takes a picture… and Alexa is electrocuted. While the whole family is shocked by what has happened, Forty Seven quietly walks away.]

Diana Burnwood: (via radio) Mission complete. Well done, 47. Now head towards an exit.

[Once out on the pier, Forty Seven gets in the boat and sails away.]

YOU OWE HIM NOTHING

Lucas Grey: (via radio) 47… don’t respond, just listen. Diana can’t help you now. You need to find Olivia. She’ll know what to do. I wish there’d been more time.

The Constant: (via phone) And then there were none. Thank you, Miss Burnwood. Now… it’s my turn.

[A man enters Diana’s office. Meanwhile, in the woods, Lucas is sitting by a tree. He has a bullet in his stomach. Two military men approach him.]

Military: Stay down. Boss wants you alive.

Lucas Grey: Yeah? How about now?

[He kills one of the soldiers, but the other one knocks the gun out of his hands. He is approached by another masked soldier with an oddly familiar face.]

Military: Over here, cover me!

Lucas Grey: Walk away.

Military: (smirks) Or what? You’re gonna take us all on?

[A few more military personnel are approaching. Forty Seven prepares to take the fight.]

Lucas Grey: Don’t.

[He snatches the gun from the military man and puts it to his jaw.]

Lucas Grey: Tell the Constant to start running.

[He blows his brains out. Meanwhile, The Constant approaches Diana. He closes her laptop.]

Diana Burnwood: You think you’ve won? 47 is out there. And 47 never misses his mark.

The Constant: Neither do you, Miss Burnwood. That’s what makes you valuable.

Diana Burnwood: You’re delusional. You think I would betray 47?

The Constant: Trust me. You owe him nothing.

[He throws a thick file on the table.]

Diana Burnwood: What is this?

The Constant: I told you we could help each other and I meant it. I look forward to your call.

[The name of the file appears on the screen.]

[47’s CONTRACT TO ASSASSINATE DIANA’S PARENTS]

[Meanwhile, in the woods…]

Forty Seven: (to the radio) Grey is gone. Go to Berlin and stay out of sight. We’re all that’s left now.

APEX PREDATOR/BERLIN

[Some time passes. Dressed in a dark, long coat, Forty Seven walks along the night highway to a gas station. Near the bus stop he finds a strange parked van.]

INTEL: Unmarked Van
Something is off with this van. Why is an unmarked van parked behind the bus stop in the middle of the night?

[Forty Seven looks around and sees a car at the entrance to the forest. The car’s headlights are still on, which means the owner left his vehicle recently. The tracks lead into the woods. There the bald assassin finds the body of an agent and an assault rifle. Forty Seven decides to continue on the forest trail into the thicket. As he approaches a tall tower with "Betreten verboten" (No Trespassing!) written in German, his phone starts ringing. Forty Seven silently picks up the phone.]

Olivia Hall: (via phone) We’ve been compromised. Abort and walk away, now.

Forty Seven: Who?

Olivia Hall: (via phone) ICA… they tracked me here. Don’t know how.

Forty Seven: It’s what they do. How many?

Olivia Hall: (via phone) One prime asset and a whole pack of up-and-comers. They’ve infiltrated the club searching for us. Christ, I think I killed one of them. Get out now, before they spot you.

Forty Seven: No. They found us once. They’ll find us again. Keep your head down. I’ll take care of this.

Agent Price

[Forty Seven walks out along a forest path to an abandoned nuclear power plant. As he gets closer, Forty Seven notices an agent patrolling the area.]

Agent: (to his radio) Do you copy? Shit… Yeah… It’s - it’s terrible reception…

INTEL: Agent Price
An excellent trapper, Agent Price prefers to "hunt" alone. A man of nature and solitude, this is his first assignment with fellow agents, where communication is his greatest foe.

Agent Price: (to his earpiece) Must be the trees. No… no trace of our target yet.

Forty Seven: Agent Price.

Agent Price: (to his earpiece) …Hello? Hello? Crap…

[Sneaking up behind him, Forty Seven breaks his neck. He removes his earpiece. Trying to pretend to be him is pointless, as all the agents know each other by sight.]

INTEL: ICA Earpiece
Standard ICA equipment. Used by the hostile ICA Agents to communicate. Could prove useful to anticipate their next move.

Agent: (via earpiece) This is like looking for a needle in a haystack.

Woman Agent: (via earpiece) Just keep trying, Agent Montgomery. Our client considers Agent 47 and Olivia Hall as a serious threat. You can’t underestimate them.

Agent Montgomery: (via earpiece) I never do, Jiao. We’ll find them. We’re all in position.

Agent Jiao: (via earpiece) Good. Report back to me if there’s anything.

Agent Montgomery: (via earpiece) Don’t worry.

[Forty Seven goes out to a dirty nightclub with a good amount of people lined up. He hears a local drug dealer on the phone.]

Drug Dealer: Hello? Yeah, It’s Heltried! Yeah, I’m outside, but someone seems to have moved my bike… and you know, that’s where I kept our "allergy pills." I’m sorry, but you know me… I— just start talking to people and then I just forget! Don’t worry, I’ll find them. Yeah… yeah, okay. I’ll meet you inside. Bye.

[He notices Forty Seven.]

Heltried: Hello? Uhm… excuse me. I was wondering if you could help me find my bike? I have lost my allergy pills,"If you know what I mean… I can got you in for free if you help me.

[Forty Seven searches the area and returns to Heltried.]

Heltried: I know you’re busy, but you didn’t happen to find my bike… with-with my “allergy pills”?

Forty Seven: I found them.

Heltried: You are a life saver! Thank you. Hey, look, if you wanna get into the club, I can get you in for free. You know you look like a man who needs to let off a little steam.

Forty Seven: I accept.

Heltried: Oh, you are a little stiff! You really need to come inside. I promise you, my allergy pills can remove some of that tension. Follow me.

[Before entering the club, Forty Seven hides his gun, knife, and other deadly toys. Heltried approaches the two bouncers.]

Heltried: Hey, I should be on the list. The name is Helfried Ziegler. And this gentleman, is my plus one.

Bouncer: Alright. Go right in.

[Forty Seven enters the club. This place seems to have a very sophisticated entertainment scene. He is greeted by a girl in a balaclava behind the cash register.]

Receptionist Girl: You have to put this sticker on your phone. No photos allowed. Even when you’re on the guest list. Now move along.

INTEL: Small Camera Stickers
Small stickers to put on your phone’s camera. What happens in Hölle stays in Hölle.

[Forty Seven is searched and he enters the club.]

Heltried: C’mon, follow me… I can show you around, if you want. Oh, this place is fantastic. It’s hard to get here, but it’s the best party… anywhere! Oh, and thanks for your help, by the way. Now, If you wanna warm up first… there is a chillout area, where you can relax…. And… oh, don’t forget the juice bar. Oh, the juice is famous here. Makes all your allergies go away, if you know what I mean…

[Without paying much attention to Heltried, Forty Seven breaks down the door leading outside and retrieves his equipment. He then returns to the club.]

Agent Swan

[Forty Seven notices a man talking through the earpiece.]

Agent: (via earpiece) Swan here. All quiet so far.

Agent Jiao: (via earpiece) He’s here, he has to be. Don’t get comfortable.

INTEL: Agent Swan
A seasoned ICA operative. Serious and professional, Swan has a diverse resume. The "go-to-guy," for less sensitive assignments. Known to use the bow when hunting.

Forty Seven: Agent Swan.

[He lures the agent behind the rusty tanks and shoots him in the head, then dumps the corpse into the water.]

Agent Jiao: (via earpiece) Agent Swan! Are you still there? That’s a second agent down. Are you all sleeping out there? We could not have stacked the deck more in our favor, and still—

Agent Davenport

Agent: (via earpiece) This is Davenport. No sign of target.

Agent Jiao: (via earpiece) Stay alert, we don’t need to give him an opportunity to strike.

Forty Seven: Agent Davenport.

INTEL: Agent Davenport
Ex-military and the newest member of this bespoke ICA hit squad. He’s impatient due to lack of experience but makes up for it by being an excellent shot. He works well in a team.

[The bald killer follows his new victim. He tries not to draw attention to himself and waits until he is alone with his victim before breaking the agent’s neck. Since the agent’s costume includes a balaclava, Forty Seven disguises himself in it and hides his body in a box. Using his new disguise, Forty Seven manages to infiltrate the technical rooms of the club. There he finds a new victim!]

Agent Banner

Agent: (via earpiece) Command. It’s Agent Banner. No sign of Target.

Agent Jiao: (via earpiece) Stop talking, focus on finding him.

Forty Seven: Agent Banner.

[To get close to his target, Forty Seven has to eliminate the technical staff of the club.]

Drug Dealer: This should keep you going.

Tech: Thanks. You’re a sweetheart. I’m just so exhausted. Need a pick me up, if you know what I mean…

Drug Dealer: Darling, that’s what I’m here for. Even overheard one of the bouncers calling me the "House Supplier"!

Tech: Well, you got the best gear. Anyways, I better get back to work.

Drug Dealer: No problem, I aim to please, my dear. I’ll see you later.

INTEL: Drug Dealer
The Drug Dealer is apparently supplying to some of the staff and security in the club. This could be an opportunity to lure some of them to a more secluded part of the club… if needed.

Agent Montgomery

[Forty Seven notices another agent, already known to us Montgomery.]

INTEL: Agent Montgomery
The leader of the group. Ex-Navy Seal, Montgomery is a true professional and one of the ICA’s top agents. He never doubts and always executes. Highly self-assure - some might call him arrogant - he knows that he is the one man who can catch the legendary Agent 47.

Agent Montgomery: (to the earpiece) Montgomery here. Everyone in position? Confirm. Okay.

[Forty Seven decides to arrange an accident for the agent - he is electrocuted by an accidentally fallen electric cable in a puddle.]

Agent Jiao: (via earpiece) Montgomery! I need a report! Montgomery! No! He got Montgomery! I told that bastard not to get so cocky… Damn it! He’s anticipating every move we make… He might be listening in. There’s no other explanation for it. Go silent, we can’t risk it.

Agent Thames

[The next agent proves difficult to locate, but he finds Forty Seven on his own. While he is in the locker room, he hears the agent talking to the bouncer.]

Agent: Hey. I’m looking for a man. Regular height, bald, Caucasian…

Bouncer: Are you a cop?

Agent: No. He’s a friend. Was supposed to meet him in the chill out room, but he hasn’t turned up… thought he might have dropped by…

Bouncer: It’s a pretty vague description you gave. You kind of described every man here.

Agent: I suppose… but he also has this big tattoo…

Bouncer: Who doesn’t? Sorry, man, you’re on your own. Besides, I don’t talk to cops.

Agent: I’m not a cop.

Bouncer: Yeah, right. I haven’t seen your friend, okay? Go look elsewhere.

Agent: When this job is done, I will be back and I’ll beat some respect into you.

[Forty Seven follows him.]

Agent: (to the earpiece) Command. Reporting in. No updates… yet.

Agent Jiao: (via earpiece) Understood. Stay watchful, it’s only a matter of time now.

[Forty Seven infiltrates a secured area in pursuit of the agent.]

Agent: (to the earpiece) Hey. Thames calling in. Only got visual on stoned idiots… no sign of target.

Agent Jiao: (via earpiece) He’s here, he has to be. Don’t get comfortable.

INTEL: Agent Thames
Highly professional. Thames’ only weakness is his tendency to be distracted, something he is well aware of, making him prone to being quite venomous when caught in a civilian conversation.

[Agent Thames notices two other agents loitering and smoking.]

Agent Thames: Hey, you! What are you doing? Get back to work.

Forty Seven: Agent Thames.

Agent: Are you talking to me?

Agent Thames: Yeah. Who else should he be talking to?

Agent: I am working.

Agent Thames: Doesn’t look like it. Listen here, you 2 apes. I’ll let you in on a little secret. I’ve been sent from the head chapter - undercover - because they believe some of Rolf’s crew, meaning you morons, are being a little light-fingered.

Agent: That’s bullshit.

Agent Thames: Is it? Either way, I can just blame you two. They’ve cut people’s balls off for less. Ask Rolf if you don’t believe me.

Agent: Hey, man. I’m sorry. No offense meant. Just do what you do. I mean, we’re innocent.

Agent Thames: Yeah, right.

[He leaves. Forty Seven follows him. Hiding in the bushes, he shoots at the cable holding the concrete ring and it flattens Agent Thames.]

Agent Jiao: (via earpiece) How the hell did he— We’re done. Get out. I’m not losing any more of you.

Agent: (via earpiece) Confirmed.

[Forty Seven leaves the clubhouse through a hole in the fence. He returns to the gas station.]

Forty Seven: (to his phone) We’re clear.

Olivia Hall: (via phone) You killed all of them?

Forty Seven: They got my message. Where are you?

Olivia Hall: (via phone) Diner. Up the main road.

Forty Seven: On my way.

AGENT OF CHANGE

[Forty Seven finds Olivia in an abandoned diner. She is sitting on the floor, leaning against a vending machine.]

Forty Seven: You’re hurt.

Olivia Hall: You should see the other guy. I never killed nobody before. What you did back there… You really are all Grey said you’d be. 47… he didn’t suffer, did he?

Forty Seven: He made it count.

[Meanwhile, the scene changes to a snow-covered hut in the middle of the woods. A snowstorm is howling outside, and the fireplace is burning inside. Diana is sitting with a glass of wine in one hand and her phone in the other.]

The Constant: (via phone) Bruised but not broken. I’m glad. It’s time we start afresh, you and me.

Diana Burnwood: Get to the point.

The Constant: (via phone) You and your friends pulled off the impossible. You stormed the heavens, took down the untouchables, and yet, here we are. Status quo. It just goes to show: you can’t fight power, Miss Burnwood. Power never dies, it only changes hands. The best you can do is claim it.

Diana Burnwood: I never cared about power.

The Constant: (via phone) Power is a tool, Miss Burnwood. It’s the thing that gets you to the thing. As the next Constant, you could be the agent of change.

Diana Burnwood: Transform the system from the inside… or be transformed by it.

The Constant: (via phone) No risk, no reward.

Diana Burnwood: I’ll need to think about it.

The Constant: (via phone) No, you won’t. The real question is, what will you bring to the table?

PATH OF LEAST RESISTANCE

[Olivia sits at her computer and checks the files given to her by Forty Seven.]

Forty Seven: Look closer.

Olivia Hall: I’m telling you, the file is trash. The Constant doesn’t so much burn his bridges as blow them up. Arthur Edwards, whoever he was, don’t exist anymore. His personal data somehow deletes itself from any system that records him. Way beyond advanced. The Partners spared no expense to make sure their controller would be untraceable.

Forty Seven: How untraceable?

Olivia Hall: Look, I did what you asked. But Grey’s gone and I’m no Diana. I’m not who you need right now. (her laptop screen flashes red) You gotta be kidding me!

Forty Seven: ICA?

Olivia Hall: I used every encryption known to man. Who are these guys?

Forty Seven: The best. It’s only a matter of time before they get lucky. We need to take them down.

Olivia Hall: You and which army?

Forty Seven: I know where the agency stores its files. Mission reports. Client data. If we leak it to the public…

Olivia Hall: You wanna whistleblow the ICA?

Forty Seven: It’s the path of least resistance. Turns out you are who I need right now, Olivia.

Olivia Hall: I do this, and I’m out. So, what are we breaking in to?

Forty Seven: Data facility in Chongqing, China, Run by a man called "Hush."

Olivia Hall: Of course.

Olivia Hall: (briefing) The ICA site in Chongqing houses the agency’s data storage and analyst division. Needless to say, security is daunting. The state-of-the-art server vault is biometrically wired to the facility’s two overseers; Imogen Royce, behavioral analysis pioneer, and Hush, a data security guru with a taste for fringe transhuman experimentation.

Forty Seven: Tell me about Hush.

Olivia Hall: A former cyberterrorist for the Ministry of State Security in Khadanyang who fled his country after one of the Poregime’s periodic purges. He made a career doing cybersecurity for dark web deplorables. Human traffickers. Organ harvesters. Scum like him, with no code or conscience. ICA sure can pick them. No offense.

Forty Seven: Can you disable security?

Olivia Hall: A dual authentication protocol ensures that any handling of data must be directly authorized by Hush and Royce, the proverbial human factor devised to make the system impenetrable. Luckily, I found a loophole. If both overseers should unexpectedly die within a short space of time, the system reverts to a temporary failsafe protocol, which I can bypass. Take them off the board, and you’ll have free access to the data core. And I’ll handle the rest.

Forty Seven: And you’re sure it’ll work.

Olivia Hall: Look, I know Hush. If I’m wrong, we won’t live long enough to regret it.

Forty Seven: All right. I will… leave you to prepare.

END OF AN ERA/CHONGQING