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We PAN slowly across the peacefully recumbent countenances ofthree attractive thirty-something men -- left to right: SCOTTDUNCAN, JACK MUNROE, KEVIN GARRETT.

INT. MEAT LOCKER

...maybe not so peaceful. The three men are strapped to metalfolding chairs amidst frozen animal carcasses hanging fromhooks. They are facing a chrome cutting table which holds abutcher knife and a wireless speaker box

It takes a minute...but Jack finally comes to with a violentstart. Immediately he registers that hes not exactly in ahotel.

JACK..holy...!

He reels, overwhelmed by vertigo.

Scott and Kevin also start to come to, and stiffly shake offthe lingering concussion, groaning.

KEVINOkay...lets not do that again.

JACKJesus H Christ...what did she hit

me with, an anvil?

Apparently realizing hes not alone, Jack pauses and looksback and forth in surprise between the other two men.

JACK (CONTD)...hey. How did you...

(Looking at Kevin)Kevin?

(looking at Scott)Scott? What are you guys doing hereI thought you were --

SCOTTYeah, Im pretty sure thats what

most of us were thinking when wewoke up in the meat freezer next tothe other dumbass.

Kevin squirms, trying unsuccessfully to undo his bonds.Frustrated, he gives up. He's strapped in tight. Not goinganywhere anytime soon.

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KEVINFuck.

A disapproving FEMALE VOICE with a slight British liltaddresses them from the speaker boxs direction.

THE SPEAKER BOXYour language, Mr. Garrett.

Kevins eyes snap to the speaker phone on the chrome cuttingtable in front of him -- startled. Did it just...? Heeyeballs it.

There is a brief, icy silence, then the speaker phone speaks:

THE SPEAKER BOXNo, dear hearts, you're not hearingthings. Or seeing things. I'mneither a recording nor a

hallucination. To put this inwords you can all easilyunderstand, I know all your shit,Misters Garret, Munroe and Duncan.

Theres a uncomfortable silence. The men give each otherwere in deep shit glances.

THE SPEAKER BOXTwo weeks ago you three gentlemen,freshly graduated from the New YorkPolice Academy, congratulations, bythe way, were recruited by one

Alistair Hawking to do morerespectable work than takingtickets and maneuvering traffic, amI right?

The men stare at the machine, agog. Only Jack slowly,hesitantly, nods.

THE SPEAKER BOX (CONTD)Your most recent assignment fromMr. Hawking found you followingthree young ladies across EasternEurope -- Jane Dalton, Anna Paigeand Elizabeth Jourdan. Tell me whatyou know about them.

The men glances between each other.

THE SPEAKER BOX (CONTD)And please...tell me the truth.

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That last word -- "truth", held the vague, emphasized verbalunderscored toned of a threat. Kevin grits his jaw. Jackshifts uncomfortably. Scott glances around, his eyes dartingto and from the speaker box -- he knows theyre being

watched.

KEVINYou want the truth? Youre atalking box that sounds likes abitch. Not sure why I should tellyou diddly squat.

Scott and Jack eye Kevin -- not confident he should becalling the bluff of a disembodied voice.

A pause. Long enough to make the three men more unsettledthan they already are...

The box speaks:

THE SPEAKER BOXOnce upon a time, Mr.Garrett...there were three littleboys who went to the policeacademy. And they were assignedvery hazardous duties. These threelittle boys, Mr. Garrett, got intoa lot of trouble. And no one couldhelp them. Not the police. Not thegovernment. Not even Mr. AlistairHawking, who knew verywell whatsort of mischief the three sweet

little boys were getting into. Thethree little boys were about tofind out what hell looked like. Butthen, three angels rescued them andbrought them to me. And I savedthem from hell. And ever after, thethree little boys worked for me.And my name is Charlie.

THE BEGINNING...

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