Alex

Written by Alex von Campe

Roger slides his car into an open spot on the street. He reaches over into the passenger seat and grabs a rather small black backpack. He steps out of the car. As the car lights die down, his figure is enveloped by the darkness of night. Roger steps to the sidewalk and begins walking. He looks a little weary, and maybe a bit too old to be doing whatever it is he is attempting. He has traveled about three blocks now, and he begins to slow. He kneels down and unzips the backpack, revealing an expensive looking camera. He takes it out, places it around his neck, and begins walking again. He veers right, stepping into the lawn between two houses. He moves cautiously, showing that he is afraid of being caught here. He takes up a position in between two tall shrubs. The camera is now level with his eye. Through the lens, he sees three men inside, talking. Roger zooms in. On the table is a black carrying case. A slight opening reveals what is inside. Drugs. Cocaine most likely. Roger focuses the lens, preparing to take a shot. Click. The camera goes off. So does the flash. The men inside are startled. We see one of them reach for a previously hidden gun and head towards the door. Roger is frightened. He falls backward, dropping the camera. As fast as he can, he picks himself up and begins running down the street, leaving the camera behind. As he runs, the man from inside the house walks up to the bushes where the camera lay. He stomps on it, crushing it, and then picks up its remains and brings them inside.



It’s a new day. Roger is walking around an office. Everyone looks very busy except for him. He sits down at his desk, starts up his computer, and opens up a file. As the computer is booting up, a plaque on his desk reveals his job title. Roger Raynham: Investigative Reporter. The file is now loaded on his screen. Within it are the names of everyone else in the office, their job, and how long they have been working here. Roger peruses the file for ten seconds before clicking on the name Oliver Hunt.



Oliver is at his desk working on some photo editing. He clearly looks disinterested in his work. From around the corner, Roger enters Oliver’s cubicle.

“Hey, Oliver right?”  Oliver spins around in his chair to face his confronter.

“Yea. You’re Mr. Raynham right? From the investigative department?”

“Please, call me Roger. I came over here because I have a job for you.”

<span style="font-size:16px;font-family:Cambria;color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“A job? What kind of job?” Oliver asks, a little over-enthusiastically.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:Cambria;color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Keep your voice down. It’s not exactly an on-the-record assignment. If you wanna help, you’re gonna need to keep it a secret.”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:Cambria;color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“What’s in it for me?”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:Cambria;color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“It’ll be a hell of a lot more exciting than this shit Williams has you working on now. I mean c’mon. You’re not even doing personal interest stories. You’re editing their photos! What kinda bullshit is that? Look. Here’s the deal. I’m on to something big. Something really big. If you helped me open this case up, you would shoot right up the ranks. Williams would have you instantly promoted for such good work. But I can’t crack this by myself, I need help.”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:Cambria;color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Have you tried the police?”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:Cambria;color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“The police wouldn’t be able to handle this right away. They’d mess it up. I need more first. That’s where you come in.”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:Cambria;color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“What do you need me to do that you couldn’t do yourself?”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:Cambria;color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“I need you to take some pictures… some rather incriminating ones…”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:Cambria;color:rgb(255,255,255);white-space:pre-wrap;">Oliver is dressed in dark clothing, sneaking around some bushes. This one is a different house then last time. Oliver keeps lurking, trying to get a better shot. Just as he gets the right angle to take a picture, the front door swings open quickly, slamming against the wall. Two guys come out and make a beeline for Oliver. He drops the camera and starts running as fast as he can down the sidewalk. He runs one block, then two, then he pops out into the street and freezes. He is about to get hit by a car, but then it swerves, colliding head on with another car resulting in a fiery wreck. Cue episode 1.