Based upon SnickerSnack's awesome illustration. Set in the same world as The Human Quarter, although it isn't necessary to have read that script understand this one.

FADE IN:

EXT. CITY - OVERVIEW - DAY.

The city appears to have been deserted long ago. Most of the buildings are rapidly crumbling, a mere decade away from being classed as ruins.

Only a small cluster of new buildings suggests that there is anyone or anything still living in this once-thriving metropolis.

These buildings are smooth and gray and identical, utterly devoid of character.

INT. VAN - DAY.

A PRISONER - female, early twenties - is being escorted to parts unknown. She looks like she has been to hell and back already: her face and hands are cut and bruised extensively. Heavy-duty handcuffs encircle her wrists.

Seated across from the Prisoner are a MAN and a WOMAN, dressed in plain gray suits. They stare unblinkingly at her. The Prisoner's gaze is fixed onto the floor of the van, greasy hair hanging in her face.

The van JOLTS, startling the Prisoner. They have driven over something in the road, perhaps. The Man and Woman don't react.

The Prisoner turns her head minutely to look up at the small, square window to her right.

WOMAN

Don't get your hopes up.

She looks down at the floor again, hair obscuring her face once more. We close up on her face and see that behind the curtain of hair she is smiling.

SLAM!

The van is hit broadside by something large and heavy.

This time the Man and the Woman have to cling on to the sides of the vehicle to avoid being thrown onto the floor. Their faces remain impassive. None of the anger or fear one would expect to see.

The van careens into something else, knocking it sideways, before coming to an abrupt halt. Ominous HISSING SOUNDS can be heard.

The Woman SLIDES back the partition between front and back. Where we would expect to see a driver, there is instead a computer, currently belching smoke and sparks.

The Man stands up and opens the van door a crack in order to asses the situation. The Prisoner cranes her neck in an attempt to see what, or who, is outside, not troubling to conceal her hopefulness this time.

The Woman STRIKES her close-fisted across the forehead.

The Prisoner sways, clearly dazed by the blow.

EXT. STREET - DAY.

The Man's attention is focused on a van parked in an alleyway close by, engine idling. The Prisoner's rescue party it would seem.

He draws his gun - a weapon unlike anything we have ever seen before - and OPENS FIRE.

INT. VAN.

The RAT-A-TAT, RAT-A-TAT of gunfire is surprisingly loud in here. The Woman watches the Prisoner closely, gauging her reaction.

She gives none.

EXT. STREET - DAY.

The rescue van is absolutely riddled with huge bullet holes. Whatever ammunition the Man's weapon uses, it can rip through solid metal as if it were candy-floss.

He walks up to the vehicle to get a better look at the damage.

No bodies in the wreckage.

He understands, too late, that the van was a decoy.

Behind him we see FOUR PEOPLE emerging. They all look to be armed with weaponry to match his own, despite being clad in torn and dirty clothes.

INT. VAN.

More GUNFIRE can be heard.

The Woman's expression doesn't change, but her movements are agitated -- this isn't how it was supposed to go.

She checks the Prisoner's handcuffs to make sure they are secure. The Prisoner does not react.

Satisfied that her charge isn't going anywhere, the Woman steps outside.

EXT. STREET - CONTINUOUS.

The Man is sprawled on the ground nearby, head blown to bits. Instead of brain and bone there are wires and burned circuits spilling out of what is left of his metal skull.

INT. VAN.

The Prisoner has slipped her handcuffs off with an ease that suggests she's practiced at this. She just needed her escorts to be taken care of first.

EXT. STREET.

She leaps out of the van just in time to see the Woman being BLASTED to kingdom come.

She doesn't stop and she doesn't look back -- she just runs.

Overhead: The WHIRRING of an aerial patrol vehicle closing in on her position.

The pavement EXPLODES behind her as the machine, now directly above her, opens fire.

She charges into one of the alleyways, hitting the wall in her haste, stumbling and very nearly falling to the ground. She recovers her centre of gravity and keeps going, zig-zagging in an effort to throw the machine off.

The aerial vehicle continues to fire at her, but its aim is off now. The Prisoner's evasive maneuvers appear to be working.

VOICE

(distant)

C'MON, C'MON!

She keeps running.

FADE TO BLACK.

END.