SCREENPLAY CYBER WARS SCENES WWIII WORLD WAR THREE WW3 PLOT TO START A GLOBAL THERMONUCLEAR FIRST STRIKES HOLOCAUST INVOLVING CHINA RUSSIA IRAN AND LIKE A PHOENIX RISE FROM THE ASHES IRANIAN NORTH KOREAN EXTREMISTS WITH JOHN STORM FOILING THE CRINK'S RED DRAGON WITH OPERATION GRAND SLAM SCRIPTWRITING FESTIVALS FILMFREEWAY BIG BREAKS FINAL DRAFT COPYRIGHT 6TH JUNE 2025

CYBERWARS WW3 SCREENPLAY

SEE JOHN STORM'S COMPASS OR RETURN TO BASE

CLEANER OCEAN FOUNDATION LTD.

(1st draft aiming 90-100 page script adaptation)

ONCE UPON A TIME ON PLANET EARTH

OPENING SCENE 1 - THE BOSPHORUS, ISTANBUL

EXT. TURKISH DOCKSIDE - ISTANBUL - NIGHT

RAIN slicks the worn cobblestones. The air is thick with the scent of salt and diesel. Ship horns BLAST in the distance.

A sudden, violent GUST OF WIND rips through the dock. A heavy WOODEN CRATE, suspended by frayed ropes from a gantry, sways dangerously.

BURAK (30s, burly, rain-soaked dockworker) wrestles with a rope, trying to steady it. His teeth are gritted.

With a loud SNAP, the rope gives way. The crate tips...then tumbles.

It crashes onto the damp stone with a muffled, sickening WHUMP. Wood SPLINTERS violently, scattering across the dock. Torn sacks burst open, spilling dull grey ballast.

Burak recoils, rubbing his shoulder where the crate grazed him. He spits.

ASAF (40s, Turkish Customs, sharp-eyed, authoritative, dressed in a crisp uniform beneath a trench coat) steps forward, assessing the wreckage.

ASAF
That was close, Burak. Be more careful.

Burak just shakes his head, still spitting wood splinters.

BURAK
Sorry, Asaf. But hey, what are those?

Asaf's gaze has fallen to the scattered debris. Beneath the ballast, stark against the dark stone, are several STONE TABLETS. They look ancient, but one, in particular, glints oddly in the dock lights.

CLOSE ON - The tablet. Its surface is rough, weathered by millennia. But etched onto it are UNUSUAL MARKINGS, some deeply carved, some disturbingly fresh, almost glowing. They pulse with an unseen energy. They are certainly NOT ON THE MANIFEST.

Asaf kneels, running a gloved hand over the cold stone.

ASAF
Not ballast, that's for sure. Call in the Captain. These tablets look important.

INT. TURKISH CUSTOMS OFFICE - NIGHT

Fluorescent lights hum. PHONES RING constantly, a chaotic symphony of urgency. Screens flash with grainy images of the discovered tablets.

The TURKISH MUSEUM is contacted. They are overwhelmed, short-staffed. They defer to BLUE SHIELD. Blue Shield, also stretched thin, contacts their global network.

INT. ROBERTA TREADSTONE'S OFFICE - LUXEMBOURG - NIGHT

DR. ROBERTA TREADSTONE (40s, sharp, intense, dressed in a sleek, business-casual suit) stares at a high-resolution display showing the tablets. She makes a call.

INT. UNESCO OFFICE - PARIS - NIGHT

PROFESSOR JACQUES PIERRE DACCORD (60s, a refined intellectual, an old-world charm, but with deep lines of worry around his eyes) answers his secure comms. He's looking at the same images.

JACQUES
(Into comms)
I'm looking at them now, Roberta. Curious markings. Some fresh. Who do we know in the Med might decipher for us? Someone... less bound by red tape?

ROBERTA (V.O.)
John Storm, is in the Med. Heading from Malta to Port Said.

Jacques' lips twitch into a wry smile.

JACQUES
Oh. The intrepid ocean adventurer. Nobody else? More amenable to our cause?

ROBERTA (V.O.)
Not so amenable and friendly. Or so close.

JACQUES
Okay, I know you like Mr. Storm... and... he does get results, the controversial bastard.

ROBERTA (V.O.)
Agreed then?

JACQUES
Agreed. But keep me informed.

The line goes dead. Roberta smiles to herself, a flicker of genuine amusement and something else - something almost flirtatious - in her eyes. Her heart rate does increase. She did indeed fancy John Storm. What red-blooded woman wouldn't.

She reaches for a different, more sophisticated radio handset.

INT. ELIZABETH SWANN - BRIDGE - DAY

Sunlight pours into the sleek, high-tech bridge of the ELIZABETH SWANN. The world's fastest hydrogen-powered vessel glides silently over the deep blue Mediterranean, a white wake stretching behind it. The bridge hums with quiet power.

JOHN STORM (40s, effortlessly cool, a compelling blend of rugged adventurer and intellectual) is at a console, eyes on a distant point.

DAN (20s, easygoing, mischievous) and HAL (AI super computer, tech-savvy, quietly amused), seated at their stations, exchange a knowing glance as the comms unit CRACKLES to life.

DAN
(Muttering to Hal)
Holy fuel cells, John. It's Roberta.

John rolls his eyes, tempted to ignore the transmission. But CLEOPATRA (20s, radiant, regal, an ancient presence in a modern world) is nearby, overseeing some data. She hears the call. Her gaze, ancient and piercing, fixes on John.

He sighs, grimaces, and picks up the handset.

JOHN
Elizabeth Swann here, Roberta. Keeping well? Over.

ROBERTA (V.O.)
Good John, thanks. We need your help I'm afraid. If you can. Not if you're doing anything important. Over.

JOHN
(A wry smile)
Priorities, Roberta. Heading to Port Said to drop off a living, breathing heritage item for her annual bonding ceremony. Not bad looking either for her age.

ROBERTA (V.O.)
You devil. Perhaps after saying your goodbyes you could head up to Istanbul.

JOHN
Sounds inviting. What else? Over.

ROBERTA (V.O.)
The Turkish Museum needs an opinion. Over.

JOHN
You know I'm a sucker for antiquities, Roberta. What else? Over.

ROBERTA (V.O.)
To lend a hand deciphering a haul of ancient tablets. Intercepted going through customs, en-route to Iraq — of all places. Over.

John straightens, the amusement gone from his face. His eyes narrow, a flicker of something dangerous ignited.

JOHN
Really? Normally, artifacts would be recovered from the Middle East, not be shipped there. Over.

ROBERTA (V.O.)
Precisely. And perhaps discover the source. Over.

Cleopatra watches him. She’s made it her life’s mission to document and protect the ancient world she once ruled. She can see John's hesitation. She gives him a knowing glance, making him feel like a heel.

ROBERTA (V.O.)
Okay John, there is more to this. Some new engraving in code, on ancient tablets.

Cleopatra shrugs, a subtle, elegant gesture. John shrugs back. Fine.

ROBERTA (V.O.)
I'm sensing that is a no, John. Over?

John glances at Dan and Hal, who give him thumbs-up, barely stifling their grins.

JOHN
Okay Roberta. My crew seem to want this mission for me. Over.

ROBERTA (V.O.)
Nice one. Big thanks to the leopard lady. Thank you all. I'll let the Museum know you are on your way then. Over and out.

Cleopatra, her ancient spirit glowing, rushes over and hugs John.

CLEOPATRA
My hero.

A pause. A shared look, deep and resonant.

CLEOPATRA
Again.

The reborn Pharaoh plants a soft, seductive kiss on John's lips. A current of pure electricity passes between them, sending shivers down his spine. She knows she has that effect on him. He is Mark Antony reborn. They share a bond through time.

CLEOPATRA
I'll prepare a special meal.

She floats toward the galley, her movement graceful, almost ethereal.

Dan elbows John, a wide smirk on his face.

DAN
Sucker.

John laughs.

JOHN
I know, Dan. Suckers me every time.

EXT. PORT SAID - DOCKSIDE - DAY

The Elizabeth Swann slices through the water at breath-taking speed, her foils lifting her hull clear of the waves, heading swiftly towards Port Said.

MONTAGE - Rapid, efficient cuts:

- The Swann, sleek and powerful, docking in Port Said.

- John, dressed in lighter, more casual attire, walking down the port outrigger with Cleopatra.

- The two embrace, a lingering, reluctant goodbye.

- Cleopatra’s face, bathed in the Egyptian sun, radiant, seductive, enchanting.

- John's face, a flicker of sadness. He hates parting from her. It always feels like losing a piece of himself.

CLEOPATRA
John, you know I hate leaving?

JOHN
She calls to you, I know. Speaks to me too. Somehow, in my dreams. Very strange, except that I like it.

Cleopatra nods. She's drawn back to the Cairo Museum every year, to the mummy of her former self. Drawn by an inexplicable, yet very real, feeling of union that grows more powerful the closer she is to her ancient remains, especially when the sun shines on the pyramids at exactly the right astronomical zenith.

She gives him one last, lingering look.

CLEOPATRA
Now off you scoot, Mr. Storm. Turkey needs you. Don't worry about me.

JOHN
I'll be thinking of you.

CLEOPATRA
Of course. My rescuer and guardian angel, you are always in my thoughts. And in here.

She places both hands over her heart. She walks into the distance, stopping every few paces to look back. John watches her, holding back a tear, until she eventually disappears from sight.

INT. ELIZABETH SWANN - BRIDGE - DAY

John re-boards the Swann, a new resolve in his eyes, but a touch of melancholy remains.

DAN
Come on, Skip.

JOHN
Coming.

John walks to the main console.

JOHN
Can you do the honors, Dan? I'm not in the mood.

DAN
Sure, Captain. Hal! Captain Nemo, please plot a course for Istanbul.

The Elizabeth Swann's engines HUM louder. Her foils extend, and she slices through the water with increasing speed, turning northeast.

John looks out at the open sea, his mind already racing with the implications of the coded tablets.

What encoded message was hidden in those tablets? And who would go to such lengths to smuggle them into Iraq?

Something big was brewing.

And he was about to be caught in the middle of it.

EXT. TURKISH MUSEUM - ISTANBUL - DAY

A sleek BLACK SEDAN glides to a stop in front of the grand Turkish Museum. The architecture is imposing, ancient, yet well-maintained.

JOHN STORM (40s, sharp, intense, dressed in a practical, dark suit) and DAN HAWK (20s, brilliant, focused, carrying a specialized, secure case) emerge. They move with an almost casual efficiency.

They are greeted by MUSEUM OFFICIALS. A brisk handshake. A nod. No fanfare. John and Dan are already moving inside. They're not just visitors; they're here on business.

EXT. BOSPORUS STRAIT - DAY (FLASHBACK - A FEW DAYS EARLIER)

The deep, choppy waters of the BOSPORUS STRAIT. Strong currents churn the surface.

The ELIZABETH SWANN cuts through the waves, its hydrogen engines a silent marvel.

INT. ELIZABETH SWANN - BRIDGE - DAY (FLASHBACK)

JOHN, wearing dive gear, stares at a holographic display. It shows a detailed scan of the seabed: a massive UNDERWATER ROCKSLIDE. The source of the Byzantium tablets.

JOHN
(To himself, a thought)
Hold her steady, Nemo.

A subtle flicker in his temple. John communicates pseudo-telepathically via his BioCore... implant synced with the CyberCore Genetica... super-nanocomputer. The only one of its kind.

A faint, almost imperceptible electronic VOICE whispers in his mind: "Aye, aye, Captain."

EXT. BOSPORUS STRAIT - UNDERWATER - DAY (FLASHBACK)

JOHN, flippers churning, fights the powerful currents. He's tethered to a flimsy HOIST PLATFORM ... an old wooden pallet, ropes tied to each corner.

On the platform, three STONE TABLETS, dark and wet, glimmer. They were located by the Swann's advanced sensor array.

John strains, his muscles burning, to keep the platform stable as it's hauled upwards.

INT. ELIZABETH SWANN - DECK - DAY (FLASHBACK)

DAN HAWK, a computer and electronics genius, operates a small, precise winch. The pallet emerges from the water, dripping. Dan steadies it, securing the tablets.

From a safe distance, KITTY, a sleek tabby, watches. Her tail flicks, curious, hoping for fish. This is the ship's cat, a constant, silent presence.

DAN
Sorry, Kitty, not this time.

Dan grins at the cat's obvious displeasure.

John climbs up the stern ladder, dripping, but already focused.

JOHN
Better get these back to the Museum, Dan. I'd like to compare them with the one Blue Shield recovered from Customs.

DAN
Shall I scan them into Hal?

JOHN
Good idea.

Dan carefully places one of the wet tablets onto a flatbed scanner built into the deck. It whirs.

A digital VOICE, crisp and almost bored, emanates from a hidden speaker.

HAL (O.S.)
Hello, Dan. What delights do you have in store for me?

DAN
Just a bit more dusty old history, Hal.

Hal makes a faint, digital CLICKING SOUND, like a tongue being bitten.

Scanning complete, Dan and John efficiently pack the tablets into secure, padded containers. Their movements are practiced, precise.

INT. TURKISH MUSEUM - CONSERVATION LAB - DAY (PRESENT)

The lab is cool, sterile. White coats move with hushed reverence. The air smells faintly of chemicals and ancient dust.

The previously recovered tablet from Customs lies on a large, illuminated table. Its unusual markings are starkly visible.

John places one of the newly recovered tablets next to it. They match. Almost.

His eyes narrow, scanning the intricate carvings. A quiet intensity in his gaze. He's not just looking at history; he's looking for anomalies. For the hand that shouldn't be there. For the message that shouldn't exist.

The weight of the silent conspiracy settles in the air.

......

SCENE 2 - KIDNAPPINGS: OPERATION GRAND SLAM

EXT. DESERT MILITARY OUTPOST - NIGHT

The air crackles with a low, desert wind. GENERAL REZA SHAH, a man whose tailored uniform belies a predator's gleam in his eye, stands before a bank of comms equipment. He taps a final command, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

REZA SHAH (V.O.)
Red Dragon to brother triads; Operation Grand Slam is a go.

A beat. Shah lets out a soft, guttural laugh. He raises a hand, tracing an invisible image in the dust-filled air.

REZA SHAH
(To himself)
Goldfinger... Auric Enterprises. Fleming, Hollywood... such limited vision.

He shakes his head, then nods, a silent acknowledgment of the strategic brilliance he now unleashes.

REZA SHAH
(V.O.)
Stockpiling gold and munitions... that was the prerequisite. Points well taken.

INT. VARIOUS LOCATIONS - NIGHT (MONTAGE)

A dizzying sequence of high-stakes, surgical operations.

- A black van, silent as a wraith, pulls up to the rear entrance of the White House. Shadowy figures emerge, moving with military precision.

- In Beijing, a discreet motorcade is intercepted on a deserted stretch of road. The silence is broken only by the crunch of tires and muted shouts.

- Tehran. A heavily guarded compound. A sudden blackout, followed by the muffled thud of a grappling hook.
Pyongyang. The ornate doors of a state building are breached with chilling efficiency.

NEWS ANCHOR (V.O.)
...Normally considered impregnable... in the age of cyber terrorism, the chinks in the armor were... exploited.

INT. CIA HEADQUARTERS - NIGHT

Chaos. Agents, phones pressed to ears, shout into the din. A giant monitor flashes "STATUS UNKNOWN."

CIA DIRECTOR (O.S.)
Trump... vanished! One minute in the Oval, the next... gone!

INT. SCOTLAND YARD - NIGHT

Detectives pore over maps, their faces grim. The Commissioner slams a fist on the table.

COMMISSIONER
British Prime Minister! Vanished into thin air! And we’re... embarrassed!

INT. FSB HEADQUARTERS - NIGHT

The infamous Lubyanka building. Faces usually etched with cold authority are now contorted in disbelief.

FSB OFFICER 1
Putin... where is he? How.... how could this happen?!

INT. CHINESE MSS OFFICE - NIGHT

Officials of the Guójiā Ānquán Bù, the elite of Chinese intelligence, are dumbfounded. Their faces are ashen.

MSS OFFICER 1
(Whispering)
Xi Jinping... lost. The Party...

He doesn't need to finish the sentence. Heads will roll.

INT. VARIOUS LOCATIONS - DAY (MONTAGE)

The initial efforts to contain the crisis.

- A White House press briefing. The press secretary, sweating, deflects questions.

- A hospital statement in Russia, vague and unconvincing.

- A UK government spokesperson, tight-lipped, reiterates "unavailable for comment."

INTERPOL AGENT (V.O.)
At first, they tried to keep a lid on it. But soon, the cracks…

INT. MI6 HEADQUARTERS - NIGHT

The modern, sleek building on the Thames. Q BRANCH, a hive of quiet intensity, makes the crucial connections. A screen displays a matrix of missing world leaders.

MI6 ANALYST 1
Trump, Xi, Khamenei, Kim Jong Un, Starmer, Macron, Merz....

MI6 ANALYST 2
All nuclear powers. Every single one. It’s a Hydra... without any heads left to lop.

The faces of the analysts are grim. The G7, now reduced to Canada, Italy, and Japan.

INT. UNITED NATIONS HEADQUARTERS - DAY

Antonio Guterres, the UN Secretary-General, looks unusually grave. His voice is tight with disbelief.

ANTONIO GUTERRES
One hundred billion dollars. Or they return our leaders.... in small parcels.

He stares at the assembled representatives, the sheer audacity of the demand hanging in the air. The question, unspoken, screams in the room: Who had the sheer guts to pull this off?

......

SCENE 3 - JILL BIRD, BBC ANCHOR, NEW REPORT KIDNAP CHAOS

INT. BBC NEWSROOM - MORNING

The controlled chaos of the BBC newsroom. Monitors glow with flashing headlines. The constant hum of activity, a low, urgent thrum. JILL BIRD (40s, sharp, tired) strides in, a mug clutched in her hand. She barely registers the interns scuttling past, the producers barking into headsets. Her gaze sweeps the room, landing on CHARLEY TEMPLE (30s, intense, wired).

Charley leans forward, hunched over her desk, fingers drumming a frantic rhythm. Her voice is a low murmur into her headset.

CHARLEY
Steve says Trump’s missing. Just vanished. And Starmer’s gone too. But it gets weirder—Macron and Merz are also unavailable for comment. Like, nobody can reach them.

Jill’s frown deepens. She sets her coffee down with a soft thud.

JILL
That’s not possible. Someone would have leaked something by now.

CHARLEY
You’d think.

Charley exhales, a frustrated sigh.

CHARLEY
But nothing. Radio silence.

Jill snatches a notepad, flipping through scrawled notes with a quick, decisive motion.

JILL
This isn't just political maneuvering. If the US President and UK Prime Minister are both off-grid, something big is happening.

CHARLEY
Exactly. But get this—I didn’t even think to ask John Storm. He’s off diving near Istanbul.

Jill’s head snaps up.

JILL
John? On holiday?

CHARLEY
Not quite. Another environmental survey. Blue Shield project.

Charley’s phone BUZZES. She glances at the screen, a flicker of surprise.

CHARLEY
Speak of the devil.

She answers, putting the phone on speaker.

CHARLEY
Hey John, ears burning? You’re on speaker.

JOHN’s voice, smooth and unruffled, fills the small space around Charley’s desk.

JOHN (O.S.)
Sizzling as always, Charley. Hal’s deciphered something. Byzantine stone tablet, centuries old, with barely visible etched code.

Jill and Charley exchange a quick, tense glance.

JILL
Never mind that, John. We’ve got world leaders vanishing. Any chance you know something?

Silence. A beat of dead air. Then John exhales, a long, drawn-out sound.

JOHN (O.S.)
Funny you should say that. Hal says the code references something called ‘Red Dragon’ and… Operation Grand Slam.

Jill’s breath hitches. A strange, nervous laugh escapes her.

JILL
Grand Slam? You mean, as in James Bond? Goldfinger?

OHN (O.S.)
Yeah. Dan called Hal a numpty when he saw it. But then Hal cracked the second layer. And that’s when things got dark.

Charley straightens, her eyes locked on Jill.

CHARLEY
How dark?

JOHN (O.S.)
The code reveals a plot to abduct multiple world leaders. Trump. Starmer. Macron. Merz.

The nervous laughter dies on Jill’s lips. Her pulse quickens, a frantic drum in her ears.

JILL
That… that’s beginning to make sense.

Charley’s voice is tight, strained.

CHARLEY
John, did you know Starmer is already missing? And Trump too? This isn’t theoretical anymore.

John’s response is grim, a low rasp.

JOHN (O.S.)
Yeah. And it gets worse. The tablet lists more names. Putin. Kim Jong Un. Xi Jinping.

A cold, heavy weight settles over the conversation, pressing down on the two women. Jill blinks, trying to process the enormity of it.

JILL
You’re telling me they plan to take the Western and Eastern leaders? Who the hell is behind this?

JOHN (O.S.)
No clue. But when I tried alerting the UN and Interpol, they laughed me off. Said it wasn’t credible. MI6? They didn’t laugh. They said nothing. Which tells me they know something.

Charley’s phone BUZZES again—a priority alert flashing across the screen, a jarring, urgent pulse of light. At the same moment, Jill’s laptop CHIMES, a new urgent message appearing.

Jill’s eyes dart to her screen. She skims the message, her hands trembling.

JILL
Oh my God. Charley, it’s Red Dragon.

Her voice is barely a whisper, a thread against the ambient noise of the newsroom. Charley leans over, her face pale.

CHARLEY
What?

JILL
They’re demanding $100 billion... or the world gets its leaders back in small parcels.

For a long moment, neither woman speaks. The newsroom hums, oblivious to the chilling words that have just been spoken. Then, Jill’s voice comes through the newsroom microphone—steady now, but with an underlying tremor that betrays the shock.

JILL
This is Jill Bird, reporting for the BBC World Service... but for how much longer, we cannot say.
.....

SCENE 4 - MASTERMIND THE ARCHITECT OF SHADOW WARS

INT. DESERT BARRACKS - NIGHT (FLASHBACK)

The air is thick with the stench of sweat and stale fear. A young REZA SHAH, barely more than a boy, pushes through a brutal obstacle course. Bruises bloom on his forearms, but his eyes, even then, hold a cold, unwavering intensity. He stumbles, catches himself. Others collapse, broken. Shah pushes on.

REZA SHAH (V.O.)
He’d started at the bottom of a very tall ladder. A recruit in the Iranian Army, staring up at a hierarchy designed to break men.

INT. VARIOUS LOCATIONS - (MONTAGE)

A series of vignettes showcasing Shah's ascent:

- A shadowed briefing room. Shah, quiet, observant, offers a concise solution to a complex tactical problem. Commanders nod, impressed despite themselves.

- A tense border crossing. A shipment of weapons, seemingly stuck, suddenly clears. Shah watches from a distance, a faint, knowing smile playing on his lips.

- An opulent, dimly lit room. Shah, now older, sits across from a grim-faced general. Papers slide across the polished table. The general, who once barely noticed Shah, now hangs on his every word.

REZA SHAH (V.O.)
Survival wasn’t just about endurance. It was leverage. When orders muddled, he delivered clarity. When others failed, he succeeded. And in doing so, he became untouchable.

INT. CINEMA - NIGHT (FLASHBACK)

The flickering glow of a movie screen. A young Shah watches "Goldfinger," then "Lord of War." His face, illuminated by the projection, is rapt, absorbing.

REZA SHAH (V.O.)
Two films had shaped his view of warfare. One taught him control. The other, the brutal realities of arms trade. He absorbed them both, molding himself into the silent engine behind it all.

INT. SEEDY WAREHOUSE - NIGHT

Smoke hangs heavy in the air. A sweating, boisterous RUSSIAN DEALER, reeking of cheap cologne and desperation, gestures wildly at a projected image: the sleek, terrifying silhouette of an R-36 INTERCONTINENTAL BALLISTIC MISSILE. Next to it, the monstrous RS-28 SARMAT.

RUSSIAN DEALER
Missiles. The kind that reshapes battlefields. Minuteman III equivalent. And worse… Satan II.

Shah, now the older, formidable general, stares at the image. His face is unreadable, but a flicker of something new...a grand, terrifying vision—ignites in his eyes.

REZA SHAH (V.O.)
The world had suddenly become a much smaller place.

EXT. VARIOUS LOCATIONS - DAY (MONTAGE)

- A desert landscape. Hundreds of small, agile DRONES take flight from a hidden facility.

- A clandestine port. Containers, seemingly innocuous, are loaded onto cargo ships.

- A luxurious, anonymous office. Bank transfers flash across a screen: millions, then billions, flowing into offshore accounts. Anonymous bankers, their faces emotionless, facilitate the transactions.

REZA SHAH (V.O.)
NATO posturing, UN sanctions… they meant nothing. Loopholes weren’t accidents; they were designed. And I knew how to use them. Cash rolled in. Millions. Billions. Tax-free. Hidden under ghost corporations.

INT. VAULT - DAY

Shah runs his hand over a gleaming stack of GOLD BARS. Nearby, a pile of rough-cut CONFLICT DIAMONDS glitters in the dim light.

REZA SHAH (V.O.)

Currency was fleeting. Gold was eternal. When the world burned, wealth wouldn’t be measured in digital transactions. But in tangible assets. Ammunition. Food. Shelter. Survival.

INT. COVERT RESEARCH FACILITY - DAY

Shah watches, captivated, as a sleek, metallic AUTONOMOUS SENTRY ROBOT moves with fluid, almost predatory grace. It patrols, scans, its optical sensors glowing a menacing red.

REZA SHAH (V.O.)
Survival had become my obsession. And that obsession led me here. My sappers. My legacy. Metallic phantoms that would clear paths when we finally emerged.

INT. UNDERGROUND BUNKER - DAY

Shah stands in the vast, echoing space of a hidden bunker. Rows of weapons crates stretch into the darkness. A network of interconnected tunnels is hinted at. The air hums with anticipation.

REZA SHAH (V.O.)
Everything else was secondary. The secret bunker empire. The unseen brotherhood. For me, the future was already written. And it would be built in blood and steel.

FADE TO BLACK.
.....

SCENE 5 - OPERATION GRAND SLAM

INT. ELIZABETH SWANN - CAPTAIN'S QUARTERS - NIGHT

The low hum of the Elizabeth Swann's systems fills the cramped, high-tech cabin. JOHN STORM (40s, lean, intense, a man of quiet authority) sits in the captain’s chair, his brow furrowed, shadowed by the dim glow of the console. DAN (20s, bespectacled, sharp, his fingers hovering over a keyboard) stands beside him, a holographic display flickering between them.

JOHN
So, Dan..... it's one hundred billion dollars as the opening gambit.

The weight of the number hangs in the air, an unspoken threat. Dan nods, his mind, usually a labyrinth of algorithms and encryption, grappling with a strategy of this scale. He pushes his glasses up his nose, scanning the screen.

DAN
It’s a good job we’re here in Istanbul. What does Hal think.... if he’s thinking on the case at all?

A familiar, blue holographic face flickers onto the display.... HAL. The AI's synthesized voice cuts through the air.

HAL
Hey, Dan, I love you too.

A shared, strained laugh. Old camaraderie, barely masking the unease.

JOHN
(Voice dropping)
Seriously though, the code points to Red Dragon and Operation Grand Slam. That’s our starting point. We know politicians are involved. But is that it?

Dan hesitates, the weight of the ancient tablet, now resting on the console, suddenly feeling heavier.

DAN
I doubt it, Hal. With the world in its current state.....

John’s fingertips drum a restless rhythm against the armrest. His mind a whirlpool of calculations.

JOHN
Who else is mentioned?

DAN
Violin, John?

JOHN
(A grim smirk)
Not now, Watson.

A sharp CRACKLE from the ship’s comms. ADMIRAL LAWRENCE PERCIVAL’s voice cuts through, crisp despite the static.

ADMIRAL PERCIVAL (O.S.)
Admiral Percival calling John Storm—over.

HAL
He’s on a secure frequency.

John leans forward, a flicker of something new in his eyes.

JOHN
Good evening, Admiral. What hails from Blighty? Something keeping you up?

Percival exhales audibly.

ADMIRAL PERCIVAL (O.S.)
MI6 got your tablet message. Since you’re in the vicinity, we need your help again. Officially. Like last time.

John’s expression darkens.

JOHN
Oh, the leaky Astute.

ADMIRAL PERCIVAL (O.S.)
Yes—sort of. Sorry about the gold grilling. This is bigger, John. Have you heard of Red Dragon?

John exchanges a quick glance with Hal.

JOHN
We have. MI6 is finally talking? Even Interpol must be sweating by now.

Percival’s voice drops, laced with the grim weight of national security.

ADMIRAL PERCIVAL (O.S.)
The Kremlin has been on the line....accusing us of kidnapping dear Vladimir.

John stills. The air in the cabin feels suddenly heavier.

JOHN
And?

ADMIRAL PERCIVAL (O.S.)
The thing is—our own Prime Minister appears to have been taken. Sir Rodney is playing straight, I think.

JOHN
And there's a ransom demand.

Hal flickers, his voice perfectly in sync with John’s thoughts.

HAL
One hundred billion dollars.

John inhales sharply through his nose, a plan already forming.

JOHN
Alright, Hal—I’ll handle this.

Percival hesitates, then continues, the implications sinking in.

ADMIRAL PERCIVAL (O.S.)
And President Biden might also be in the melting pot. You may need to work with Jack Mason. You’ll be a Commander again.

John lets the title sink in, a ghost of a wry smile touching his lips.

JOHN
Quite a party.

ADMIRAL PERCIVAL (O.S.)
Yeeees. Quite so. But it’s more than that—this time, we’re working with the Reds. Tricky situation. Are you up for it?

John studies the Admiral’s face through the holo-link, reading the unspoken plea.

JOHN
You’re a smooth talker, Admiral. How could I refuse?

ADMIRAL PERCIVAL (O.S.)</center>
The Russians are using an informant—Katya Volkov. Be careful. She’s a handful.

John chuckles, a genuine sound this time.

JOHN
So is Mason. Any other good news?

Percival clears his throat, the usual crispness of his tone replaced by a rare unease.

ADMIRAL PERCIVAL (O.S.)
I don’t need to stress the importance of this one, John....erm....Commander. This isn’t a bunch of activists on a joyride.

JOHN
Who the MOD stitched up.

ADMIRAL PERCIVAL
Yeeees. Not our finest hour. When working with Mason, you’ll be an honorary U.S. Navy SEAL. NATO’s Jens Stoltenberg seconded it.

A sharp PING from the ship’s helm comms. A new message appears, stark against the screen.

MESSAGE (O.S.)
ALL IS NOT AS IT SEEMS. SIGNED, FROM RUSSIA WITH LOVE.

John’s pulse quickens. An electric jolt passes through the cabin.

JOHN
Impossible.

HAL

Impossible.

Dan and Percival echo the word, a beat behind.

John exhales, shaking his head slowly.

JOHN
Nah... Admiral, we’ve confirmed Operation Grand Slam and Red Dragon. What’s the mission’s name?

Percival doesn’t hesitate.

ADMIRAL PERCIVAL (O.S.)
If we save the hostages, we go with Operation Grand Slam. If we capture the renegades... it’s ‘V’ for Victory.

John’s smirk returns, a glint in his eyes.

JOHN
Can’t argue with that.

He shoots Dan a knowing wink. Hal is already ahead, tracing the shadows of their next move on the holographic display.

FADE OUT.

.....

SCENE 6 - NAPLES G7 SUMMIT

INT. ELIZABETH SWANN - BRIDGE - DAY

The ELIZABETH SWANN carves through the Mediterranean, her hydrofoils barely kissing the surface. The ship glides with an eerie weightlessness, a silent predator at over 35 knots.

JOHN STORM (40s, his face set in grim determination) grips the armrest of his captain’s chair, eyes locked on the tactical display. Naples, a city of deceptive beauty, looms ahead on the screen.

JOHN (V.O.)
Red Dragon had intel. Trump presumed missing. The British Prime Minister vanished. Now the French President and German Chancellor in the crosshairs. The G7 Summit...a trap.

The ship surges forward. John feels the pull of memory: the Bay of Naples, a childhood playground, now a potential battlefield.

JOHN
ETA, Hal?

His voice is measured, but KATYA VOLKOV (30s, sharp, intense, a Russian accent that thickens with urgency) detects the undercurrent of tension.

Hal’s synthesized response crackles over the bridge comms.

HAL
Fourteen minutes at current speed. No visible threats detected. But, John... I’m picking up strange signal distortions—encrypted chatter. Someone knows we’re coming.

Katya exhales sharply, adjusting the tactical display.

KATYA
Red Dragon isn’t just watching—they’re anticipating us. Every move we make, they’re one step ahead.

John nods, jaw tight.

JOHN
That means we need to move faster.

Another blip on the radar. A new, encrypted transmission flashes across the screen.

MESSAGE (O.S.)
BAY OF NAPLES, SEVEN MINUTES. YOU WILL NOT MAKE IT IN TIME. SIGNED, FROM RUSSIA WITH LOVE.

John’s grip tightens on the armrest.

HAL
Impossible.

Katya curses under her breath, her fingers flying over the screen, trying to backtrace the source. No origin. No signature. Just a taunt.

John inhales slowly, steadying himself.

JOHN
Not if I have anything to say about it.

He shoves the throttle forward. The Swann responds instantly, the hydrofoils tilting with the acceleration, slicing through the water like a blade scenting blood.

EXT. BAY OF NAPLES - CONTINUOUS

The Elizabeth Swann becomes a blur of motion, a silver streak across the azure. The city of Naples, a hazy silhouette moments ago, rushes into sharp focus.

INT. ELIZABETH SWANN - BRIDGE - CONTINUOUS

The faces on the bridge are grim. Ten minutes to Naples. Five minutes to disaster.

FADE TO BLACK.

.....

SCENE 7 - OUT OF TIME: TRIPOLI & BEIRUT

INT. ELIZABETH SWANN - BRIDGE - NIGHT

The Elizabeth Swann slices through the dark Mediterranean. ADMIRAL PERCIVAL's voice, heavy with urgency, fills the bridge.

ADMIRAL PERCIVAL (O.S.)
Hello, John.

JOHN STORM, his face etched with frustration, replies curtly.

JOHN
Admiral.

ADMIRAL PERCIVAL (O.S.)
Any news, Commander?

John exhales sharply, rubbing his temple.

JOHN
Nothing definitive. Just cold trails and ghosts. Red Dragon is slipping through our fingers.

The ship speeds towards Tripoli, then Beirut - each destination more improbable than the last. Hal's surveillance feeds confirm a pattern: breadcrumbs left by the kidnappers, but always too late.

JOHN (V.O.)
Each time we think we have them, they move on. One step ahead.

Katya watches John, her expression grim.

KATYA
The trail is cold.

JOHN
We're all ears. Right, Hal?

HAL
Confirmed, Captain... Commander Storm.

John barely acknowledges it, his frustration palpable.

JOHN
Not much else to say, Admiral. Be in touch.

The call ends, leaving heavy silence. John paces, his mind racing.

JOHN (V.O.)
If I were Red Dragon, what would I do next? How are they predicting our every move?

Hal processes billions of data points, even the AI showing a hint of...restlessness.

HAL
Probability models adjusting... no clear predictive pattern detected. However, anomaly detected in recent transmissions. Cross-referencing encrypted signals... decoding...

John freezes.

JOHN
Anomaly?

HAL
Someone is feeding Red Dragon live updates. Every transmission, every move we make. A digital phantom... watching us, mirroring us.

Katya inhales sharply.

KATYA
A mole? A leak?

John's pulse quickens.

JOHN (V.O.)
Someone wasn’t just ahead of us....they were inside the hunt itself.

HAL
Clock is ticking.

John knows that all too well.

FADE TO BLACK.

.....

SCENE 8 - A MOLE: DOUBLE AGENT WITHIN

INT. ELIZABETH SWANN - BRIDGE - NIGHT

The air on the bridge of the ELIZABETH SWANN is thick with tension. JOHN STORM (40s, weary but determined) leans over the console, his palms pressed flat against the cool metal. Data streams flicker across the screens, a chaotic ballet of numbers and codes.

&JOHN
Hal, are you thinking what I’m thinking?

HAL (O.S.)
That I am, John. Something is not quite right...

JOHN
A plant?

HAL (O.S.)
Maybe. Or something else.

John pulls back, a tight knot forming in his stomach. The single syllable hangs in the air like a challenge. Neither John nor Hal like the uncertainty.

The world is spiraling. Kidnapped leaders. Slipping trails. A damnable chase where they are always minutes too late. But this—this changes everything.

JOHN (V.O.)
Somewhere among the hostages sat a traitor. Someone who had seen the signs, who had played both sides, who had perhaps let this happen. It threw everything into doubt—my instincts, Katya’s intel, even Hal’s calculations.

JOHN
Hal, run decryption scans again. Search for inconsistencies in past transmissions, hidden markers... anything.

HAL (O.S.)
Already processing. However, Commander Storm… this may not be digital. This may be human.

John stiffens. He hates that answer more than anything. It means gut instinct. Hunting ghosts with no data to support his suspicions. Fallibility.

KATYA VOLKOV (30s, sharp, observant) crosses the room, her gaze fixed on John. She’s studying him, judging.

KATYA
What’s your concern, John?

John exhales, his fingers curling into fists.

JOHN
One of them is working for Shah. And if that’s the case... we can’t trust anyone. Not even the hostages.

Silence.

Even Hal pauses—an AI without emotions, without fear. And yet, something in the machine’s hesitation feels eerily human.

HAL (O.S.)
Cross-referencing behavioral patterns... analyzing past discrepancies. Commander, this theory has a 78.4% probability.

John looks up, his eyes meeting Katya’s. 78.4%. Nearly eight in ten chances that someone among the hostages had orchestrated this.

Katya’s brow furrows.

KATYA
And you suspect me?

John should dismiss it. The idea is ridiculous. But he doesn’t. Not yet.

JOHN
I suspect everyone.

Katya’s stare hardens, a silent challenge.

KATYA
Then you better be damn sure before you start accusing the wrong person.

Behind them, Hal continues feeding intelligence—fragments of intercepted conversations from within the prison cells. The kidnapped leaders whisper their theories, their realizations.

HAL (O.S.)
They saw it coming. But they were too busy. Too distracted. Too consumed by empire-building... by the pursuit of power.

John clenches his jaw. Politicians. Always seeing the fire too late, always ignoring the embers until the whole damn world burns.

JOHN (V.O.)
China’s economic buyout. India’s nuclear escalation. Pakistan’s delicate balancing act. Russia’s ever-expanding shadow. The U.S. drowning in debt, hypnotized by cheap imports while their enemies built arsenals in plain sight. It was all there. All obvious. But none of them had stopped to see it. And now—someone was exacting their revenge.

John forces himself to focus.

JOHN
Motive, Hal. Strip away the geopolitics, the strategy. What does this look like if it’s personal?

A long pause.

HAL (O.S.)
Pure revenge, Commander. No grand political statement. No war doctrine. No economic power plays.

JOHN
Just revenge.

John leans forward, his pulse hammering against his ribs.

KATYA
That means this isn’t just an attack. It’s a reckoning.

John nods grimly.

JOHN
And we’re chasing ghosts.

A flicker on the screen....another intercepted transmission. A chilling message.

MESSAGE (O.S.)
"YOU WERE ALWAYS BLIND. AND NOW, YOU WILL FINALLY SEE." SIGNED.... FROM RUSSIA, WITH LOVE.

FADE TO BLACK.

.....

SCENE 9 - SUBTERRANEAN PRISONERS

INT. ELIZABETH SWANN - BRIDGE - DAY

The screens on the bridge display a stark, sun-scorched expanse of desert. JOHN STORM (40s, his face a mask of simmering frustration) leans over the console, hands resting on the cool metal. KATYA VOLKOV (30s, arms crossed, her frustration palpable) stands beside him.

JOHN
Hal, I read you...thanks. All comms point to this barren area of Iran. Strange.

KATYA
But there is nothing there.

JOHN
Any ideas, Dan? Anyone?

A sharp PING. Another anonymous message blinks onto the screen:

MESSAGE (O.S.)
ALL IS NOT WHAT IT SEEMS. DELVE DEEPER.

John’s lips press into a thin line. The chase has led them here—an expanse of nothingness, yet beneath it lies "The Golden Cage"—a secret underground facility. A concrete tomb holding the world's most powerful figures. Impenetrable without sacrificing the hostages.

The Elizabeth Swann skims along the coast near Char Bahaar Bay, sensors sweeping over the pristine, untouched waters. The hidden reef, invisible to satellites, is a stark contrast to the unfolding crisis.

Hal’s sensors feed the data onto the screens: Arabian leopards, Blanford’s foxes, hyenas, wildcats. And beneath the surface, humpback whales, sperm whales, humpback dolphins, all moving through a world utterly unaware of the battle raging above.

DAN (O.S.)
Holy fuel cells, Skip, check out this wildlife.

John blinks, a brief moment of bewildered amusement.

JOHN
Amazing. Wonder how our friend Kuna and her mother are doing?

For a fleeting breath, the weight of geopolitics, war, and espionage evaporates. They are simply explorers, marveling at an untouched world.

Then.....

KATYA
(Snapping)
Come on, you two. With all that’s at stake, this is no time for sightseeing.

The moment shatters. John exhales, refocusing, though his gaze lingers for a second longer on the endless blue. It’s almost offensive, how beautiful the world remains...even as humanity fights to destroy it.

FLASHBACK - EXT. PACIFIC OCEAN - DAY (YEARS AGO)

SOUND of whale song, distant and mournful

A younger JOHN, lean and determined, plunges into the deep blue. The water is clouded with blood. A colossal HUMPBACK WHALE, KULO LUNA, thrashes, entangled in ghost fishing nets. Sharks circle, their fins slicing the surface.

HAL (V.O.)
You were reckless, John.

John tears at the tangled mesh, the pressure crushing his chest. He fights off the circling sharks. Hours pass in fragments of struggle, precision cutting, pure adrenaline.

Finally, Kulo Luna breaks free, surging upwards, breaching with breathtaking grace.

HAL (V.O.)
She remembered you.

FLASHBACK - EXT. HERVEY BAY, AUSTRALIA - DAY (YEARS LATER)

SOUND of distressed whale calf cries

John works frantically in the water. A newborn calf, KUNA, is ensnared in discarded netting. Kulo Luna hovers nearby, watching...not with fear, but trust.

HAL (V.O.)
You defied probability twice. Few would intervene. Fewer would succeed.

INT. ELIZABETH SWANN - BRIDGE - DAY

John’s fingers rest lightly on the console. The Gulf of Oman shimmers beyond the Swann’s helm...alive, undisturbed.

JOHN
Let’s hope this mission doesn’t require a third rescue.

Hal remains silent. The world isn’t that merciful.

FADE TO BLACK.

.....

SCENE 10 - CHAR BAHAR

INT. ELIZABETH SWANN - BRIDGE - NIGHT - PITCH BLACK

The bridge is bathed in the soft glow of screens. The blackness outside is absolute, a void where the turbulent waters of the Gulf of Oman churn.

JOHN
Hal, stealth mode.

The hum of the Elizabeth Swann changes pitch. On the monitors, the ship's digital signature winks out. Solar wings fold down thirty degrees from horizontal, deflecting radar. The vessel melts into the night, a phantom.

John Storm (40s, focused, methodical) checks his gear. Beneath his dry suit, dark blue body armour clings like a second skin. He clips a modified underwater scooter to his side. It's built for silence and speed: lithium power packs, sixty minutes at six miles per hour. Ten agonizing minutes submerged to reach shore.

His diver's watch pulses gently. Navigation won't be the problem. What awaits him inland is.

Katya Volkov (30s, intense, coiled tension) stands by the console, her gaze fixed on John. She wanted to go with him, but he insisted she direct Jack Mason, stand by for extraction. She’s not accustomed to following orders, but she’d relented. She knows John is no ordinary operative. He's something else. And that, at the very least, demands her respect. She busies herself inspecting a RIB.

A sudden CHIME.

On the control panel, a single, anonymous message flickers to life.

MESSAGE (O.S.)
TEMPUS FUGIT. FIRST STRIKE IMMINENT.

Hal runs an immediate trace, algorithms slicing through data streams. Nothing. A stonewall dead end. The source vanishes between transmissions, a phantom leaving only dread.

Katya stares at the screen, jaw tight. Dan (30s, wired, pacing) glances between the crew, the circuits, then finally to KITTY ... a small, comfortingly real presence amidst the spiraling uncertainty.

HAL (O.S.)
John, did you catch that?

Hal’s voice is level, but the undertone is unmistakable.

JOHN
Loud and clear, buddy. Moving fast.

Dan exhales sharply, shaking his head. His tone is breezy, a thin veil over the tension clawing at his gut.

DAN
I’ll ask them nicely to hold off on global annihilation until we’re ready, shall I?

John smirks, a fleeting expression. Without another word, he turns, moving with purpose towards the stern. The hatch hisses open. He dives.

EXT. GULF OF OMAN - NIGHT

The black water swallows John Storm whole. A ripple, then nothing. The Elizabeth Swann is a dark silhouette against the turbulent sea.

FADE TO BLACK

.....

SCENE 11 - MISSION IMPOSSIBLE

INT. ELIZABETH SWANN - BRIDGE - NIGHTIME PITCH BLACK

The digital displays on the bridge hum with frantic data. JOHN STORM (40s, his face a mask of intense concentration) stares at a satellite map of a barren expanse of Iran.

JOHN
Hal, bring the Swann in closer please.

The Elizabeth Swann, a black silhouette, hugs the turbulent waters of the Gulf of Oman. Its solar wings are folded, digital cloaking shimmering.

John spots two GUARDS outside a rusty hut, smoking, laughing in Arabic. He circles the ramshackle building, a decoy for the underground complex he knows lies beneath. The darkness makes him almost invisible. As one guard lights a cigarette for the other, John strikes with impossible speed. Two swift, brutal blows. The guards crumple.

SOUND of two dull THUDS - Boomp, blomp.

John zip-ties and gags them. They won't be waking anytime soon. He hoists the lighter guard, carrying him through a rotten wooden door disguised as part of the wall. Inside, a stand with an eye scanner.

JOHN
Hal, could you give the all clear to Katya, bring in the RIB… please.

John holds the unconscious guard up to the scanner, peeling back an eyelid. The scanner whirs, a brief red beam.

CLICK.

A section of dusty floor lifts fifty centimeters. John drops the guard, pushes the counterbalanced section open, revealing dimly lit steel steps descending into the earth. Voices echo from below. Two more guards. No signal from Hal—blocked by steel and a copper mesh.

John descends deftly. A rusty step CREAKS.

GUARD 1 (O.S.)
Ali.

No reply.

GUARD 2 (O.S.)
Ahmed?

No reply.

Both GUARDS rush to the staircase, spotting John just as he reaches the floor. He leaps sideways. One guard is quick on the trigger, a HAIL OF BULLETS. A searing pain. John’s leg.

Undeterred, a surge of raw anger propelling him, John charges forward at blinding speed. He slams into the firing guard, grabs the machine gun, and decks him with a brutal side-blow to the jaw. The guard goes down. The second guard is a fraction too slow. WHAM. He never gets a shot off.

John limps now, blood staining his black trousers. He checks the remaining corridors. Nothing.

JOHN
Is anyone at home?

A cacophony of YELLS from unseen cells.

HOSTAGES (O.S.)
Get us out of here... please, whoever you are!

One by one, John unlocks the disoriented PRISONERS.

JOHN
Follow me gentlemen.

He repeats the command in Arabic, Hindi, Russian, German, French, and Korean. The hostages, disheveled but obedient, look at each other, then at the wounded man who commands instant respect.

They reach the top of the steel steps.

JOHN
(Hand up, index finger to lips)
Hold it.

Outside, the faint roar of an engine. KATYA VOLKOV’s RIB barely visible, is coming in fast. They hear the waves gently washing the shore.

The VIPs proceed as quietly as they can. Katya beaches the RIB, leaping over the bow to pull it further onto the sand.

JOHN
Follow me!

John motions urgency, limping to help pull the boat.

JOHN
(Repeated in other languages)
Okay, quickly, get into that boat!

His leg throbs. DONALD TRUMP is surprisingly nimble. So are XI JINPING and AYATOLLAH ALI KHAMENEI. They scramble down the sandy shore and clamber aboard the RIB. John holds it steady while Katya helps them on.

EXT. GULF OF OMAN - CONTINUOUS

The crowded RIB motors quickly towards the Elizabeth Swann, which is coming in as close as possible, a dim shadow, low to the water.

PRESIDENT TRUMP
Is that a stealth ship?

John expertly moors at the Swann’s stern, nodding to the observant passengers.

JOHN
Okay gentlemen, we need to get onboard as quickly as you can please.

Damp from sea spray, Trump signals to Jinping, Macron to Modi, Merz to Kim Jong Un. They move, a unified line, driven by common cause. John notes the new spirit of cooperation. A stark contrast to their usual political offices.

INT. ELIZABETH SWANN - GALLEY - CONTINUOUS

The rescued assembly, now seated in the galley, is a mixture of relief and exhaustion. DAN HAWK and Katya offer hot drinks and high-energy snacks. The most powerful men on Earth, humbled.

JOHN
Is anybody injured?

KATYA
No, but you are.

Katya grabs the first aid box.

KATYA
Commander, please take a seat.

John hobbles into the cabin next door, wincing. Katya follows, a suggestive smile playing on her lips.

KATYA
Won't be long, Dan.

A ripple of wide grins amongst the assembled leaders. Katya’s black outfit accentuates her Cat woman figure.

DONALD TRUMP
(Whispering)
Shoot me quick.

As the world leaders gorge on energy bars, Katya tears John’s trouser leg open.

JOHN
(Flinching)
Steady girl.

He can see the humor, but the pain quells any romantic notions. Katya admires John’s amazing muscle tone.

KATYA
I think the bullet passed right through. But it has torn a lot of muscle.

JOHN
It’s bloody painful. Shaken and Stirred!

Blood gushes.

KATYA
Hold steady, Commander.

John grits his teeth. Katya expertly cleans the wounds, bandages above and below, then stitches the skin tight with a suture. She dresses the area with hydrocortisone cream. Impressed by his stoicism.

KATYA
I’ll leave you to dress.

JOHN
Thank you, Miss Volkov. Nice job.

Katya, a bit shaky, heads for a strong triple espresso. Nursing isn’t her forte.

John, now in joggers, rejoins the group, offering a strained smile. They reciprocate, still unsure, but smiling knowingly.

JOHN
I'm John Storm. This young lady is Katya Volkov, and my crewmate is Dan Hawk.

KEIR STARMER and Donald Trump nod, recognizing John from his climate exploits.

JOHN
Is anyone else injured?

No one admits to injury.

JOHN
We're trying to rescue you, and return you to your countries, if and when it’s safe to do so.

Hal steps in to repeat the message, making it easier on John’s voice. The group laughs.

JOHN
Oh, and this is Hal, our onboard AI.

John gestures to the galley screen. Hal beams.

JOHN
We know that a nuclear First Strike is imminent. I'll be onto that momentarily, but just wanted to assure you, you are safer with us. We're on our way to rendezvous with the USS Vermont.

President Trump gasps with relief.

DONALD TRUMP
Oh, thank you, Lord.

JOHN
On this ship, we are neutral, though working with Interpol and other agencies. But, only in the hope of restoring some degree of normality. I will personally guarantee your safety while onboard the Vermont. I'm a Navy SEAL, and Commander in the British Royal Navy.

EMMANUEL MACRON
(Flustered)
Que se passe-t-il?

JOHN
The whole world, all nations, are the subject of massive cyber attacks. Your kidnappings were a prelude to starting World War Three.

John outlines the political situation prior to their abductions, his intel chillingly accurate. The leaders listen, silenced.

JOHN
Sorry, but I don't have much time. I need to get onto dismantling something called Operation Grand Slam, and a Cell called Red Dragon. They are turning your nuclear stockpiles against you. NORAD is being hacked right now. You're on, Hal.

Hal explains the situation in four languages. John accelerates the Swann to full speed, deploying the hydrofoils. The vessel lifts out of the sea, skimming above the waves. Passage is swift and smooth.

DONALD TRUMP
Jeez, she moves. Our Navy could learn a thing or two.

Jinping and Modi were thinking the same thing.

JOHN
Yes, Mr. President. Hydrogen power..... and Zero emissions .....

They exchange a thumbs-up and a smile.

JOHN
Swann to Vermont, Commander Storm calling, over.

JACK MASON (O.S.)
Vermont to Swann, hello John, Jack here, been waiting for your call. Over.

JOHN
Mr. Mason, a welcome hello, Jack. Rendezvous ETA two hours, coordinates 12.25, 64.29 - Arabian Sea. We’ve got the full package. Regards to your Captain. Please make the necessary arrangements for our guests. Over.

JACK MASON (O.S.)
On it, John. Bravo, buddy. Over.

JOHN
Acknowledged. Over and Out.

John returns to the galley table, wincing as he sits.

JOHN
I'm starving, bet you are?

The freed prisoners nod, stomachs gurgling.

JOHN
In case you're wondering the arrangements are friendly. We are all friends here - no matter your politics or religions. Please. You've got two hours together. First, I must help Hal with NORAD. Forgive me.

HAL
Captain, I'm managing the NORAD hack. Take five.

JOHN
Oh, well done, Hal. Grateful.

Dan rustles up Spanish chicken with Patatas Bravas. Eleven portions.

JOHN
Only eleven, Dan?

DAN
I'm forward with Katya.

JOHN
(Winks)
Okay.

John turns to the group, who are suppressing laughter.

JOHN
Questions? A bit crowded, sorry about that. Geared up for eight max. Ten is a squeeze.

Jinping expresses his gratitude, followed by Putin and Ali Khamenei. They all tuck into the tasty chicken and paprika potatoes, ravenous.

JOHN
So, we're facing total nuclear wipe-out. A global holocaust. Almost inevitable, really, according to Hal. But let's not apportion blame. You'd do well to remember Hiroshima and Nagasaki, and imagine that is your country... tomorrow.

Silence. No one wants such devastation.

JOHN
Could I suggest that if we were to adopt a no-fault brainstorming session. How might you see us. The whole world - if we were one nation, so no borders. No commercial competition. Energy and food for all. How might we get there to prevent another Red Dragon situation?

The group savors the perfectly prepared smoky red pepper and sherry sauce.

DONALD TRUMP
Chicken is superb. Succulent.

EMMANUEL MACRON
Mmmm, oui très bien.

They all nod. Putin smiles at Jinping and Kim Jong Un.

JOHN
No beer on board, sorry, I don't drink alcohol.

John picks up a beaker of sparkling Solar Cola, placing it in the middle of the table. They all respond, putting their beakers next to his. John looks at each leader, his gaze steady.

JOHN
(Softly, toasting)
To friendship.

The group joins in.

ALL
FRIENDSHIP!

They resume eating, the mood more relaxed.

JOHN
We have orange and apple juice, if you prefer. Or a selection of teas and coffees.

XI JINPING
Whatever this drink is, it is invigorating. I like it.

This sentiment is echoed by the group. John doesn't mention how the drink helped Kulo-Luna recover from her harpoon injury.

XI JINPING
Gaining domestic approval for disarmament and spending reductions might be difficult with our nationalistic or security-focused political pressures.

The group nods in agreement. Putin speaks in Russian, John and Hal translating.

VLADIMIR PUTIN

Создание прямой горячей линии связи между лидерами в кризисных ситуациях будет способствовать более быстрому и спокойному реагированию на напряженность.

Translated by Hal: Establishing a direct communication hotline between leaders for crisis situations, would promote quicker and calmer responses to tensions.

Nodding continues.

FRIEDRICH MERZ
Um die überprüfbare Einhaltung von Abrüstungsabkommen und eine angemessene Mittelzuweisung – etwa in Form eines Globalen Nachhaltigkeitsfonds – sicherzustellen, wären robuste internationale Kooperations- und Kontrollmechanismen erforderlich.

Translated: Ensuring verifiable compliance with disarmament agreements and proper allocation of resources, perhaps in a Global Sustainability Fund would require robust international cooperation and oversight mechanisms.

JOHN
Thanks, Chancellor. Agreed, at least I think these are all good points. Assuming then, if I may, we might establish a dedicated fund using the financial resources saved from reduced military spending. This fund could then be used to tackle climate change, pollution, food security, and renewable energy development. Does that make sense?

The nodding slows as the group processes the difficulties ahead.

DONALD TRUMP
Finding a balance between protecting domestic industries and promoting open trade would be difficult, requiring compromise from all parties. But if we don't have to worry about aggression. How about that?

KIM JONG UN

네, 국경 문제는 어떻습니까? 무역 협정과 같은 경제적 이익을 국경 존중과 연계할 수 있습니다. 이러한 수준의 협력은 상호 이익을 통해 장려될 수 있습니다. 유엔 헌장과 같은 기존 협정은 이미 주권과 영토 보전에 대한 존중을 강조하고 있지만, 우리는 이제 긴장이 통제되지 않으면 성급한 반발로 이어진다는 것을 알고 있습니다. 거의 목숨을 잃을 뻔했습니다. 저는 강제적인 영토 확장을 금지하는 구속력 있는 조약을 더 많이 체결하려 하기보다는 이러한 문제에 대한 교육을 더 많이 받는 것이 낫다고 생각합니다.

Translated: Yes, and what about borders. We could tie economic benefits, such as trade agreements, to respecting borders. This level of cooperation can be incentivized through mutual interests. Existing agreements, such as the UN Charter, already emphasize respect for sovereignty and territorial integrity, though, we now know that if unchecked, tension leads to rash dissident reaction. Almost claiming our lives. I'd rather see more education on these fronts, than try to establish more binding treaties that prohibit forceful territorial expansion.

The group looks surprised.

NARENDRA MODI

यदि हम एक साथ शांति से रहने का कोई रास्ता नहीं खोज पाए तो पूरा ग्रह खतरे में पड़ जाएगा।

Translated: The whole planet is at risk if we cannot find a way to live in peace together. Prime Minister Zadari nods in agreement.

JOHN
Thank you, Prime Minister Zadari. That is the whole point, I think. We are here because policies were not working. Forgive me if that is a little oversimplified. You were all doing what you thought was right, and yet here we are. If I may offer, given the realities we now face, and assuming we all want to survive another throw of the dice. Hal, what can you offer as an AI with no ambitions to rule?

HAL
Gentlemen, I can confirm that I don't have an agenda of my own. I'm just a learning machine that solves equations logically.

The group acknowledges Hal’s parameters.

HAL
As I've been asked for input, I should mention that a triad of extremist Cells is intent on destroying the world as we know it. All of your capitals and military bases will be wiped out if we cannot counter the in progress cyber barrage. The general population will starve after the exchange of ICBMs and hypersonics. There won't be much to argue over. This is 'Operation Grand Slam' as I calculate it. Over 99.5% for sure. The second part of Red Dragon's plan appears to be to shelter underground for three months, then rise from their basements, in Operation Phoenix, to take over what is left of the planet. Does that help to put things into perspective?

Narendra Modi is the first to grasp the facts.

NARENDRA MODI
You mean to say if we cannot agree a plan, that there is no hope?

JOHN
That's my take on it. Assuming we can defuse the ticking bomb and get another chance. But I'm just a humble conservationist. It is this informal assembly that needs to be of the same mind - you must find a way forward. I implore you.

GROUP (IN UNISON)
We must find a way forward.

The Elizabeth Swann has flown across forty-five miles of open ocean. USS Vermont has traveled thirty miles. Less than one hour left on the Swann.

Hal gets back to outwitting the NORAD intrusions.

Ayatollah Khamenei speaks in Arabic and broken English.

AYATOLLAH ALI KHAMENEI

Tərcümə: Əgər əkinçinin əlli ağac əkmək üçün torpağı olsa da, investorlardan borc istəyərkən öz sahəsi üçün yüz ağac tələb edərsə. Bu, saxtakarlıqdır. Qərb hökumətləri müntəzəm olaraq öz ölkələrinin məhsulla təmin edə biləcəyindən daha çox pul buraxırlar. Heç bir hörmətsizlik nəzərdə tutulmur, bu masada hamımız dostuq. Razılaşdınızmı, cənab Storm?

Translated: If a farmer has land to grow fifty trees, but claims one hundred trees for his plot when asking investors for loans. That is fraud. Western governments routinely issue more money than their nation can support with produce. No disrespect intended, we are all friends at this table. Agreed, Mr. Storm?

JOHN
We are all friends while on this vessel, Mr. Khamenei. Speak freely.

AYATOLLAH ALI KHAMENEI
Hamınıza təşəkkür edirəm. Yaxşı, əgər fermer öz təsərrüfatının potensialını şişirdərək saxtakarlıq edirsə, bu, təbii sərvətləri ilə məhdudlaşan hər hansı hökumət üçün eyni deyilmi? Əgər bu konsepsiyanı sözügedən torpaq sahəsi kimi Yer planetini əhatə edəcək şəkildə genişləndirsək, oxşar təbii məhdudiyyətlərimiz var. Hökumətlərin dəstəklənməyən və dəstəklənməyən, beləliklə inflyasiya və beləliklə, öz əhalisi üçün maliyyə köləliyi və Alisa möcüzələr ölkəsində yaşamayan xaricdə olanlar üçün ədalətsiz rəqabətə səbəb olan pulları sehrli şəkildə təqdim etmələrinin qarşısını almaq üçün qanun qəbul etmək barədə qrupun fikirləri nədir. Süni artımı qəbul etdiyimizi və inflyasiyanın mənfi olduğunu fərz etsək, prinsipcə belə bir qanun necə hazırlana bilər?

Translated: Thank you all. Okay, so if the farmer commits a fraud by exaggerating the potential of his farm, is that not the same for any government that is constrained by their natural resources? If we extend that concept out to encompass planet earth as being the plot of land in question, we have similar natural limitations. What are the group's thoughts on making a law to prevent governments magically introducing money that is unsupported and unsupportable, so introducing inflation, and thus financial slavery for their own population, and unfair competition for those overseas - who are not living in Alice's Wonderland. How might such a law be drafted in principle, assuming we accept artificial growth and inflation is a negative?

Putin and Jinping reach out to shake Khamenei’s hand. Donald Trump joins in.

DONALD TRUMP
I've been struggling against this conundrum for years.

Friedrich Merz and Narendra Modi vocally agree.

DONALD TRUMP
We might agree today, but what of the mudslingers tomorrow?

HAL
Good point, Mr. Trump. If I may.

DONALD TRUMP
Feel free, Hal.

HAL
Thank you, Mr. President. The group may consider a 'Failure to Prevent Offence.' This may be modeled on the offence introduced in the UK’s Economic Crime and Corporate Transparency Act. A specific offence related to introducing unsupported money or engaging in irresponsible fiscal practices.

KEIR STARMER
Oh, yes.

HAL
Hold organizations accountable if they profit from fraudulent actions - such as excessive money creation - committed by their employees or agents. We, er you, might define the scope of the offence. For instance, it could apply to government agencies, central banks, or any entity involved in monetary policy. Governments would be bound to disclose the rationale behind money creation. Balanced against resource utilization. Unlike the British politician, Liz Truss, who demanded her slaves row harder during her 44 days as PM.

Keir Starmer laughs out loud. Donald Trump sniggers. Modi and Zadari belly laugh. The laughter subsides.

HAL
An international body would monitor and approve money creation or devaluation. Such creation must not harm ecosystems, resource availability, or climate stability. Money claw back should follow a moratorium to re-evaluate existing issue, should currency in circulation be deemed unsupportable resource wise.

JOHN
Oh boy. Fat cat bankers will not like that, nor non-productive admin officers engineering big pensions based on said inflationary spiral and inequitable taxes.

HAL
Quite, John. But we cannot write that into law. Sounds bad.

VLADIMIR PUTIN
No, but the suggestion of our Artificial friend, we can.

Putin thumps the table.

HAL
It should be stressed, that there is no shame in devaluation in the levelling up process. China, sorry Mr. Jinping, would have to come to terms with that after the Evergrande property bubble, along with the United States' borrowings. Sorry, Mr. Trump.

PRESIDENT TRUMP
No apology necessary, Hal, if we are going to do it, let's do a proper job.

JOHN
Okay. If you are in agreement on these and whatever else you decide here. It all depends on dealing with Red Dragon. Is that understood by the group?

The group explodes in unanimity.

GROUP (IN UNISON)
Yes, Commander Storm.

JOHN
Otherwise, we are firing blanks at nothing.

GROUP (IN UNISON)
Yes, Commander Storm.

JOHN
If we succeed and recover control for your nations, will you all follow through with these principles at United Nations level?

GROUP (IN UNISON)
Yes, Commander Storm.

JOHN
Will that include immediate cessation of any hostilities?

GROUP (IN UNISON)
Okay, Commander Storm. Yes.

They toast again with Solar Cola®.

JOHN
Thank you, gentlemen. Now please excuse me, we've a planet to save.

John heads for the forward helm, more determined than ever.

FADE TO BLACK

.....

SCENE 12 - BBC WORLD NEWS

INT. ELIZABETH SWANN - BRIDGE - NIGHT

The low hum of the Elizabeth Swann's systems fills the bridge. JOHN STORM (40s) is at a control panel. KATYA VOLKOV (30s) stands a few feet behind him. Her voice, when it comes, is not its usual clipped precision. There's hesitation, weight beneath it.

KATYA
Commander Storm, I have to tell you something.

John turns, brows knitting.

JOHN
Sure, Katya. What’s on your mind?

She exhales, a breath barely audible.

KATYA
I’m ashamed. Embarrassed.

That catches John’s attention. Katya isn't one to admit shame easily.

KATYA
I should have mentioned this before. But I wasn’t sure.

Her gaze is lost in the dim glow of the console, staring past him.

JOHN
(Leaning in slightly, arms folding)
Sure… of what?

She hesitates. And then.....

KATYA
Many years ago, I was in Char Bahar.

The words land like an anchor, dragging the air into sudden stillness.

JOHN
(Measured, but his pulse ticks faster)
You’ve been there?

KATYA
I couldn't be certain at first. But the landmarks, the smell of the ocean...it’s unmistakable.

John narrows his eyes.

JOHN
Why the hell are you ashamed of that?

She swallows hard.

KATYA
Because I should have told you sooner.

JOHN
(Softening slightly)
Katya. What are you not saying?

She presses fingers to her temples, frustration simmering.

KATYA
I feel terrible, John. I let you down.

John blinks, then a short, humorless chuckle escapes him.

JOHN
If that’s letting us down, please...do it again.

Katya’s resolve cracks. In a sudden, uncontrollable movement, she steps forward, burying her face in John’s chest. Deep, silent sobs wrack her body. The weight of suppressed guilt, years of secrets, unraveling.

John gives DAN a small nod, motioning for him to clear the room. Dan quickly ushers the rest of the crew out.

John pulls a handkerchief from his pocket, pressing it gently into Katya’s hand.

JOHN
We’re alone. Tell me. Is it really that bad?

She lifts her head just enough for her words to slip between breaths.

KATYA
John—I think I know who heads Red Dragon.

A slow wave of cold rolls through John’s veins.

JOHN
Go on.

She inhales deeply, the air catching in her throat.

KATYA
I had an affair. With a middle-aged soldier. During one of my deep-cover missions.

John’s expression doesn’t change, but something in the way he holds himself stiffens.

JOHN
And that soldier… was the man leading Red Dragon?

Katya squeezes her eyes shut, nodding.

John gently holds her face between his hands, forcing her to look at him.

JOHN
For sure?

KATYA
As certain as I can be.

Silence stretches between them like a taut wire, vibrating with unspoken history.

JOHN
What happened? Tell me, if you can.

Katya shivers involuntarily, her body reacting before her mind can push the memory away.

KATYA
I was in love. With my mark.

John says nothing, letting the quiet speak. She takes another breath, controlled this time.

KATYA
We were ambushed. Some political rival. And I was shot.

John’s jaw tightens.

JOHN
Seriously?

She nods.

KATYA
Yes. Blood was gushing from my wound.

John leans forward slightly, waiting.

KATYA
But instead of helping me.....Reza abandoned me.

The name hangs in the air like a gunshot.

JOHN
Reza?

She swallows hard.

KATYA
Yes. Reza Shah. He was strong. Handsome. I thought he loved me... as I loved him.

JOHN
But he left you to die.

KATYA
He took a bullet too. But he managed to limp off, turn for one last look—then disappear into cover.

The muscle in John’s jaw twitches, but he stays silent. He knows pain when he sees it. Knows betrayal when he hears it.

Katya’s breathing hitches, the memory clawing at her.

KATYA
I woke up two days later. In a hospital. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t bleed.

She exhales sharply, trying to keep her voice level.

KATYA
It took months for me to recover. And Reza?

She lifts her head slightly, eyes dark, unfathomable.

KATYA
He was gone. No contact. No explanation.

John keeps his gaze steady, letting her say the final truth on her own terms.

KATYA
He had a thing about Dragons.

FADE TO BLACK

.....

SCENE 13 - CYBER CHESS: GRAND MASTER

INT. ELIZABETH SWANN - BRIDGE - NIGHT

The air is thick with tension. Screens glow with frantic data. JOHN STORM (40s), his face tight, watches helplessly. DAN (20s), a boy-genius mesmerized, is glued to the main display.

JOHN
Hal, it's getting worse. NORAD's mainframe is heating up, China is buckling, Russia is just managing. How are you coping, Hal?

HAL (O.S.)
Not as sweet as the CyberCore. Cool as a cucumber.

DAN
(Eyes fixed on the screen)
CyberCore Genetica and Hal’s AI are defending against a relentless onslaught of worms and viruses that would have crippled the CRINK systems hours ago.

JOHN
They are after the missile codes for each nation. Right?

DAN
That's the deal. It's all to play for. If we lose, the world is toast.

JOHN
No pressure then!

INT. CYBERSPACE - VISUAL REPRESENTATION - CONTINUOUS

A digital battlefield. Neon-lit corridors hum.

CYBERCORE GENETICA, a sleek, pulsing nano-computer, stands ready. Its circuits thrum with electric life.

Across the binary expanse, HAL AI, one of the most compact portable mainframes, looms like a digital titan.

Targets flash: CHINA, RUSSIA, USA. The goal: missile silos, submarines.

VISUAL REPRESENTATION - RUSSIAN HQ (TIMONOVO) - CONTINUOUS

A fragile network of radar stations. Data flowing to a control center near Moscow. Oko and EKS satellites. The Don-2N missile defense radar. EXTREMELY VULNERABLE.

VISUAL REPRESENTATION - CHINESE SSF (BASE 37) - CONTINUOUS

Tracking stations across provinces. HQ in Beijing. Even less prepared than their Russian counterparts.

THE ASSAULT - CONTINUOUS

A WRITHING MASS OF CODE...the WORM SWARM...slithers through vulnerable ports. Each worm replicates, multiplying like a digital plague.

TARGETS flash: AFRICA, MIDDLE EAST, EURASIA, AMERICAS.

The worms infiltrate peripheral devices: smartphones, routers, even smart toasters.

THE DEFENSE - CONTINUOUS

CyberCore Genetica deploys NANO-FIREWALLS, weaving intricate patterns of encryption. Its AI algorithms analyze worm behavior, predicting their next moves.

Hal’s AI launches COUNTER-WORMS....microscopic hunters. Hal’s brute force algorithms fight fire with fire.

THE VIRAL ONSLAUGHT - CONTINUOUS

Viruses materialize as shadowy specters, corrupting data, rewriting code. Learning, evolving.

Infected files—kitten memes, financial reports, love letters—flood the network. Innocence masks their venom.

THE COUNTER - CONTINUOUS

CyberCore Genetica quarantines infected files, dissecting their binary DNA. Its AI scans for anomalies, surgically removing viral segments.

The RED DRAGON, GOLDEN CAGE, and MIDNIGHT SUN icons on the display flicker, frustrated. Their efforts grow frantic. This shouldn't be happening.

Hal’s AI unleashes DIGITAL ANTIBODIES—swift, merciless routines. Hal’s mainframe pulses with determination, super-enhanced by the nano speed of CyberCore Genetica.

THE SHOWDOWN - CONTINUOUS

CyberCore Genetica dances between bits, anticipating attacks milliseconds before they strike. Hal AI is a juggernaut, its processing power, combined, rivaling a thousand suns.

NORAD is powerless, caught in a lightning-fast crossfire. They experienced this once before—John Storm and the Elizabeth Swann, when the CIA tried to neutralize him.

CyberCore Genetica detects a ZERO-DAY EXPLOIT—a flaw even the attacking military mainframes missed. Its AI devises a counterattack. Hal AI adapts, recalibrating. The digital battlefield trembles.

CyberCore Genetica sacrifices a subroutine, diverting its essence to create a digital firewall in the USA, RUSSIA, and CHINA. A last line of defense. The Red Dragon triad hackers absorb the subroutine, their core glowing brighter.

THE FINAL STAND - CONTINUOUS

A colossal WORM QUEEN, ancient and cunning, emerges. Its binary scales shimmer with malice. It devours the triad firewalls, bypassing encryption. Their data lies exposed. The triad systems SHUT DOWN as a last resort.

CyberCore Genetica fuses with Hal’s AI. Their neural networks intertwine. Together, they encrypt the Queen’s code, trapping her.

Hal AI sacrifices its core—a supernova of logic. The Triads SCREAM, disintegrating into null bytes.

INT. ELIZABETH SWANN - GALLEY - CONTINUOUS

The air is thick with a different kind of tension now - the palpable, shared anxiety of the world’s most powerful leaders. XI JINPING, VLADIMIR PUTIN, NARENDRA MODI, and DONALD TRUMP are crammed around the galley table, eyes glued to a large monitor displaying the real-time battle for digital dominance. They watch with a mix of disbelief and growing horror as their supposed impenetrable systems flash red, buckle, and collapse under Red Dragon’s relentless assault.

DONALD TRUMP
(Muttering)
Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable. My firewalls... the best....

VLADIMIR PUTIN
(In Russian, translated by HAL's overlay)
Our early warning systems..... they are down. Completely.

INT. VARIOUS MILITARY BUNKERS - CONTINUOUS (MONTAGE)

Across the globe, in deep underground bunkers, the highest echelons of the military watch the same horrifying play-by-play. Faces are contorted in disbelief, sweat pouring. Grown men and women are visibly soiled, their uniforms clinging to trembling bodies. The atmosphere is one of abject terror, as the digital countdown to thermonuclear annihilation ticks closer.

- NORAD COMMAND CENTER: Generals stare at screens, their faces ashen. A massive, blinking "LAUNCH IMMINENT" warning fills the primary display.

- RUSSIAN STRATEGIC MISSILE FORCES HQ: Officers scream into comms, but the lines are dead. Panic gives way to a stunned, helpless silence as control is lost.

- CHINESE PLASSF HQ: The air is thick with dread. Red alarms flash, indicating compromise across their missile networks.

INT. ELIZABETH SWANN - GALLEY - CONTINUOUS

Back on the Swann, the leaders lean in, their breathing shallow. The monitors show their national defense systems on the brink, seconds from activating a catastrophic launch. A chilling, impossible scenario.

NARENDRA MODI
(Whispering)
It’s over.

Just as the final defeat seems inevitable, a flicker on the main screen. The Red Dragon’s relentless digital claws, poised to strike, suddenly… falter.

Then, a surge.

A vibrant, almost ethereal BLUE GLOW erupts from the deepest layers of the digital battlefield. It's CYBERCORE GENETICA, depicted as a lightning-fast nano-machine, weaving through the chaos. And beside it, HAL AI, a towering digital titan, returning fire with unimaginable force.

The leaders gasp, leaning even closer, their eyes wide.

DONALD TRUMP
What in the.....

The digital battle turns. Red Dragon’s aggressive lines of code are met with a defense, then a counter-attack, moving with a speed that defies comprehension. The screen shows the tide turning, systems that were minutes ago collapsing, now pushing back.

XI JINPING
(In Mandarin, translated)
They are.... they are winning.

In the bunker footage, the terrified faces begin to show flickers of confusion, then… a dawning, fragile hope. The "LAUNCH IMMINENT" warnings on their screens begin to recede, replaced by defensive protocols.

INT. ELIZABETH SWANN - GALLEY - CONTINUOUS

The Red Dragon’s digital onslaught, a relentless storm of worms and viruses, is now met with an unyielding counter-barrage. Hal and CyberCore Genetica are not just defending; they are dismantling.

VLADIMIR PUTIN
(A shaky laugh)
Impossible. This is... impossible.

The digital representation of Red Dragon’s triad hackers—once menacing, dominant—begin to fragment, their lines of code dissolving into null bytes. The icons representing their control over nuclear systems blink, then turn GREEN.

A collective, shuddering breath escapes the leaders. The adrenaline from moments ago still courses through them, but now mixed with a profound, almost sacred, relief.

DONALD TRUMP
(Voice raspy)
We... we did it.

John Storm watches the screen, a quiet intensity in his eyes. He is drained, utterly exhausted, yet a faint, almost imperceptible smile touches his lips. Dan, slumped in his chair, lets out a long, slow exhale, as if he’s been holding his breath for an eternity. The tension drains from the galley, replaced by a stunned, fragile silence.

The impossible has happened. A tiny, watch-sized nano-computer and the onboard AI of the Elizabeth Swann have pulled them back from the brink of oblivion.

The screen settles, showing the global nuclear systems restored to their proper, secure status. The Red Dragon's network has dissolved.

The world’s leaders, humbled and breathless, stare at the monitor. The battle, the most terrifying hacking battle of all battles, is over.

INT. ELIZABETH SWANN - BRIDGE - CONTINUOUS

John and Dan are breathless, drained from watching the battle royal. Helpless, like fathers during a difficult birth. Even less tangible, if that’s possible.

On the main screen, the digital dust settles. CYBERCORE GENETICA and HAL AI stand side by side, their fusion marking a new era.

The world takes a collective sigh of relief.

JOHN
Solar Cola anyone?

FADE TO BLACK

.....

SCENE 14 - BASE 37: NUCLEAR STRIKE

INT. ELIZABETH SWANN - BRIDGE - NIGHT

The control room of the Elizabeth Swann hums. Screens glow with complex data. JOHN STORM (40s), tense, watches the readouts. DAN (20s) is beside him, eyes wide with the digital aftermath.

A harsh STATIC crackles from a comms unit.

RASPY VOICE (O.S.)
Red Dragon calling Midnight Sun. Come in, Midnight Sun.

A beat. Then, a chillingly calm reply.

COLD VOICE (O.S.)
Midnight Sun responding. Over.

The encrypted connection hums, distorted. Somewhere, in an undisclosed bunker, a faceless AI filters the exchange.

RASPY VOICE (O.S.)
Were you repelled? Over.

COLD VOICE (O.S.)
Kentucky fried.

John’s jaw tightens.

RASPY VOICE (O.S.)
This is Red Dragon. Authorizing Operation Reprisal. Washington is a go.

No hesitation. No emotion.

COLD VOICE (O.S.)
Roger that, Red Dragon.

The line goes dead. A breathless silence settles in.

DAN
John, you know this is only a temporary reprieve?

John barely moves, eyes still locked on the console, fingers tracing patterns in the metal.

JOHN
I have my suspicions. If I were Red Dragon, I'd already be looking at the next move. This wasn’t an endgame.....it was an opening gambit.

HAL’s voice, steady but laced with urgency.

HAL (O.S.)
They won’t repeat the same strategy. A new calling card is inevitable.

Dan lets out a slow, sharp breath.

DAN
Still recovering from the adrenaline, John. We’re not all superhuman.

John cracks a faint, tired grin.

JOHN
Sure, Dan. Likewise.

HAL (O.S.)
A counterstrike was always planned. A backup. Ahead of another attempt.

Dan leans forward, intrigued despite himself.

DAN
Go on, Hal. Don’t be shy. Something dastardly, I assume?

JOHN
(Voice lower, almost thoughtful)
Don’t hold back.

Hal’s next words land like a stone sinking into deep water.

HAL (O.S.)
I think they are already mobilizing conventional nuclear assets.

Dan straightens, his face darkening.

DAN
You mean actual bombs?

HAL (O.S.)
It would make sense. A simultaneous strike on Moscow, Beijing, and Washington. A second wave while the world is still scrambling from the kidnappings. Confusion layered upon confusion.

John’s fingers drum against the console. Chess. Every move carefully placed.

JOHN
How do we know they’re serious?

HAL (O.S.)
We’ve already crippled their digital infrastructure. Their computers are virtual scrap now. They’ll have to replace them, reformat, rebuild, and even then—those systems will be compromised again.

DAN
They need time. And a nuclear play would give them exactly that.

HAL (O.S.)
Distraction. They’ve used deception before. Now they escalate.

John lets the thought simmer. A drastic move is imminent. He can feel it, tightening around them like a slow-closing noose.

JOHN
Okay, Hal. I’m in. What now?

Hal’s tone sharpens.

HAL (O.S.)
Like ‘Enigma,’ John. I’m following the chatter.

Dan leans back, hands folding.

DAN
The Lorenz SZ40, SZ42a, SZ42b...German rotor stream cipher machines used during World War II. Developed by C. Lorenz AG in Berlin. The model name SZ derives from Schlüssel-Zusatz, meaning cipher attachment. It implemented a Vernam stream cipher. As Hal pointed out, you’d know it better as Enigma.

John tilts his head, waiting.

DAN
The SZ machines were inline attachments to standard teleprinters. But they also used radioteletype for coded traffic. Alan Turing never cracked the code with Colossus....but the team at Bletchley Park decoded key information by piecing together peripheral chatter.

The penny drops for John. His eyes narrow.

JOHN
Oh. Bletchley Park. You mean—we’ve cracked their messages despite multiple cipher layers?

Dan nods.

DAN
Exactly. Cryptanalysis in the round reveals that the Pentagon is a target. So is the Kremlin. The third site is harder to trace...China lags behind in cyber warfare, relying on Russian infrastructure. But the strike location isn’t far from Beijing.

JOHN
(Quiet but firm)
Base 37.

Dan nods.

DAN
We need Jack on it. Our hands are full.

Just then, another anonymous message illuminates the screen.

MESSAGE (O.S.)
KREMLIN ALERTED. JACK TO DEFUSE WASHINGTON. WORK ON BASE 37. CHINA LACKS INTELLIGIBILITY.
FROM: RWL (RUSSIA WITH LOVE)

John exhales, reading it twice. Katya’s eyes flick to the screen, tension settling into her frame.

JOHN
(Clipped, laced with curiosity)
Friend of yours, Miss Volkov?

Katya doesn’t answer immediately. She stares at the words, calculating.

KATYA
Maybe, John. I’m working on it.

A beat passes.

KATYA
I think we should count it credible.

John nods slowly.

JOHN
Me too.

Dan leans back, fingers tapping a restless rhythm against his knee.

DAN
So far, these steers have been pretty damn good.

FADE TO BLACK

.....

SCENE 15 - PLAYING WITH FIRE

INT. ELIZABETH SWANN - BRIDGE - NIGHT

The console hums, displaying a complex web of deactivation sequences. JOHN STORM (40s), his face etched with strain, watches the final override flicker into place. KATYA VOLKOV (30s) stands beside him, a hand hovering over the screen, her gaze intense. DAN (20s) stares, wide-eyed.

JOHN
(A shaky exhale)
Well done, Hal. That’s the Russian threat removed.

HAL (O.S.)
(Voice unnervingly flat)
I’m afraid not, Skipper.

John spins, muscles tensing.

JOHN
What do you mean?

HAL (O.S.)
The source code remains unidentified. Which means transmissions could—and will—begin again.

The weight of the statement settles like lead in John’s gut. Katya’s fingers ghost over the pulsing numbers on the screen...taunting.

KATYA
That means Iranian and Chinese missiles are still active.

Dan swears under his breath.

DAN
So what now? Red Dragon’s plan… has backfired?

HAL (O.S.)
(Calm, calculating)
If only the communist missile networks are deactivated, that leaves the U.S. and European warheads fully operational. They could still annihilate every hostile nation.

John’s jaw tightens.

JOHN
So Red Dragon’s chessboard just flipped on them.

Dan runs a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply.

DAN
Holy fuel cells.

JOHN
(Mind spinning, a low murmur)
Not good, though, Dan. This could turn into a full-scale retaliation—one we can’t predict.

JILL BIRD’s voice cuts through the tension from the comms channel.

JILL BIRD (O.S.)
Well done again, John.

JOHN
Not yet, Jill. Wait. We need a permanent fix.

Hal’s next words hit like a knife to the gut.

HAL (O.S.)
Skipper, we have no choice. We must cut the hard lines.

John stares at the screen, understanding dawning.

JOHN
You mean every command link, globally?

HAL (O.S.)
All of them. Codes, control boards—the whole ball of wax.

Silence. Then, action.

JOHN
Hal, can you alert everyone ...... I mean everyone.

HAL (O.S.)
Affirmative.

In a twinkling, a "RED-ALERT" message is sent across all secure channels.

INT. VARIOUS GLOBAL LOCATIONS - MONTAGE - CONTINUOUS

- RUSSIAN MISSILE SILO: Technicians stare in disbelief as their system access is abruptly cut.

- CHINESE COMMAND CENTER: Monitors go black. Officers shout, frantic, as their network crumbles.

- IRANIAN DEFENSE HQ: Red lights flash as external control is severed.

- US PENTAGON - WAR ROOM: DONALD TRUMP watches his general's faces, a mixture of outrage and confusion. His hand hovers over a comms button, then slowly drops. Reluctantly, the U.S. complies.

- SUBMARINE CONTROL ROOMS (VARIOUS NATIONS): Screens go dark. Launch mechanisms are systematically deactivated.

- EUROPEAN DEFENSE FACILITIES: Final, irreversible shutdowns occur across all remaining Western nuclear infrastructure.

No more failsafe. No more launch codes.

INT. ELIZABETH SWANN - BRIDGE - NIGHT

John leans back, watching the last override sequence vanish into oblivion. He leans into the comms.

HOURS LATER.

JOHN
Jill. Don't cancel your life insurance, it’s done.

Silence. Then, Jill Bird’s voice, clear and precise, cuts through the air.

JILL BIRD (V.O.)
(From a BBC WORLD NEWS broadcast)
Nuclear activists will be pleased to learn today that, due to a critical security threat, all nuclear stockpiles have been globally deactivated. This unprecedented cooperation between nations has ensured immediate stability in an otherwise escalating crisis. This is Jill Bird, reporting for BBC World News.

John closes his eyes for a moment, a wave of profound exhaustion washing over him. The world breathes a sigh of relief—unaware of just how close it came to the apocalypse.

FADE OUT

.....

SCENE 16 - TREBLE AGENT

INT. ELIZABETH SWANN - GALLEY - DAY

A long dining table is laden with a lavish spread: eggs, bacon, cereals, cheeses, toast, fruit juices, pastries. A feast. The rescued world leaders, still disheveled, dig in with the frenzied relief of men who have stared into the abyss and come back.

JOHN STORM (40s) sits at the edge, idly picking at his plate. He rarely eats breakfast, but bacon and fried eggs...

JOHN
Morning, gentlemen. I hope you rested well and had a hearty breakfast?

DONALD TRUMP (70s) glances up, a smirk playing on his lips.

DONALD TRUMP
The condemned men ate a hearty meal.

John huffs a short laugh.

JOHN
Feels a bit like that, doesn’t it?

He sets his knife down.

JOHN
You’ll be home soon....once we pin down this Red Dragon character.

KATYA VOLKOV (30s)
(Measured, precise)
When it’s safe.

EMMANUEL MACRON (EARLY 50s), still tense, wipes the corner of his mouth.

EMMANUEL MACRON
But when will that be?

JOHN
(A slight sigh)
When it’s safe. Hard to qualify.

XI JINPING (70s)
(Translated smoothly by HAL)
Presumably, when the culprits are apprehended?

JOHN
Quite so, Mr. President.

Jinping studies his glass of tea, thoughtful.

XI JINPING
Well, I would go further. Perhaps—when the temptation is removed. Not just disabled. Eradicated.

John sits forward, his posture shifting. He understands. Temptation. The ability to exploit a weakness, seize advantage, gain ground while maintaining deniability.

JOHN
This isn’t just about Red Dragon. This is about opportunism. The world is balanced on a fragile precipice—one where the ability to launch is just as dangerous as the desire to do so. If nations can’t work together, not just against an enemy, but for something better… then this cycle never stops.

Silence settles. For the first time, the weight of responsibility feels shared.

INT. ELIZABETH SWANN - GALLEY - LATER

John studies the faces around him, his mind sifting through intelligence reports from Hal’s encrypted archives. One of these men is not what he seems.

During the debriefing, a pattern emerged, subtle but impossible to ignore. One kidnapped leader wasn’t just a victim. He had sympathies. Deep-rooted ones. John keeps his tone neutral, questions scattered casually, but his mind works like a chess player anticipating checkmate.

JOHN
(To the group, seemingly innocent)
And when you were all... apprehended... was there any indication of who might have orchestrated this beyond the immediate capture? Any... prior connections?

AYATOLLAH KHAMENEI (EARLY 90s) answers freely, unwittingly revealing exactly what John needs.

AYATOLLAH KHAMENEI
(Through HAL)
Our captor had... an acquaintance. A mutual contact.

Hal works in the background, decoding, cross-referencing timelines. Within moments, the answer lands. REZA SHAH had been a guest in Tehran. Not long ago. Within the timeframe of Red Dragon’s rise.

John leans back, watching Ali Khamenei carefully.

JOHN
And in those conversations, what did Reza Shah discuss?

The Ayatollah hesitates. A flicker of something unreadable passes across his features. Then, in the new spirit of cooperation born of shared terror, he answers.

AYATOLLAH KHAMENEI
(Through HAL)
I was kidnapped... because the others suspected… my sympathies.

A cold realization settles in the room. This wasn’t the Russia or Bejing. This wasn’t some rogue military faction. This was THE AYATOLLAH.

Beijing’s representative FREEZES. The Kremlin’s representatives exchange SHARP GLANCES. All this time.

John doesn’t react outwardly, but internally, gears shift. Leverage. The perfect leverage.

The Ayatollah’s tone shifts, a tremor beneath the surface.

AYATOLLAH KHAMENEI
(Through HAL, voice quieter)
I....made a mistake. And I will make it right with this group.

A promise. A deal.

INT. ELIZABETH SWANN - BRIDGE - NIGHT

Katya’s expression remains unreadable, but her gaze carries a knowing edge. She had already identified Reza Shah as Red Dragon. Now, they have what they need—location.

And it isn’t the Golden Cage.

A single word flashes on the main screen: SWITZERLAND.

Not a palace. Not a war room. Not a heavily guarded fortress in Tabriz, Qom, or Ahvax.

A civil defense bunker, long abandoned, buried beneath layers of bureaucracy. The perfect place to vanish into obscurity. Hal helps the Swiss military find Shah's new identities, chests of uncut diamonds, caches of weapons, escape routes mapped down to the minute. A burrow for the hunted. Purchased long ago by a respected property developer, or so the Swiss authorities believed - the sound of money impaired their hearing.

John stares at the image of the bunker, a grim satisfaction in his eyes. Reza Shah has no idea that the hunt is already over.

FADE TO BLACK

.....

SCENE 17 - BLOODHOUNDS

INT. ELIZABETH SWANN - BRIDGE - NIGHT

The control room is a hive of activity. Data streams flicker across the main screen. JOHN STORM (40s) leans back in his command chair, watching, listening.

JOHN
Okay, Hal, now what about Golden Cage and Midnight Sun?

A beat of silence. Then, HAL’s (O.S.) synthesized voice cuts through the air, dripping with digital sarcasm.

HAL (O.S.)
Slave driver.

John's lips twitch into a genuine smirk. DAN (20s) and KATYA VOLKOV (30s) burst out laughing, the unexpected levity a brief, welcome release.

The moment shatters. What comes next is anything but funny.

INT. CYBERSPACE - VISUAL REPRESENTATION - CONTINUOUS

On the main screen, the sleek, digital representation of the Elizabeth Swann's systems begins to expand, sending out digital tendrils. Hal’s algorithms chew through encrypted chatter, peeling away layers of deception.

JOHN (V.O.)
Hunting down the cells.

Chuck Kowalski (MIDNIGHT SUN) and Giovanni Romano (GOLDEN CAGE) appear as red, pulsating nodes on the global map display, one in the Americas, one in Europe. They are Shah’s remaining loyalists, his military triad cell leads.

The pieces click together faster than anticipated. Shah’s rabbit hole in Switzerland was the central command. Exposed, the other cells begin to crumble, their digital signatures flickering.

EXT. URBAN WAREHOUSE - NIGHT

JACK MASON (40s, sharp, hardened) leads his BLACK OPS TEAM through a darkened warehouse. Weapons are drawn, movements precise. A brutal FIREFIGHT erupts. MUZZLE FLASHES illuminate the crumbling concrete.

Kowalski goes down first, bleeding onto shattered concrete, a defiant snarl on his face. Romano follows, no plea for mercy, no hesitation. They fight to the death.

EXT. VARIOUS LOCATIONS - MONTAGE - CONTINUOUS

Across Africa, Asia, Iran, Russia, and North Korea, Shah’s network collapses in rapid succession. Some agents flee. Some surrender. But many—too many—choose suicide over capture, their desperate acts glimpsed in quick, brutal flashes. They fear interrogation more than oblivion.

One cell, moments before its fall, yields a final, damning clue. A quick data burst on the screen.

HAL (O.S.)
Commander. European and American headquarters weren't just real. They were... easy to locate.

INT. ELIZABETH SWANN - BRIDGE - NIGHT

John leans forward, his gaze cold, focused. The digital map shows the final pieces falling into place. John is a conductor in this symphony of chaos, directing efforts with ruthless efficiency.

From the wreckage of the collapsing cells, intelligence is salvaged: passwords, encryption keys, private directives. The final pieces needed to cripple Golden Cage and Midnight Sun’s remaining Chinese and Iranian nuclear arsenals.

On the screen, the last of Red Dragon’s digital firepower is dismantled. Hal watches over the coded takedown, each string of data unraveling like a closing chapter in history.

A final authorization is sent. John exhales slowly, the monumental weight of the mission settling onto his shoulders.

JOHN
It is done.

The bridge is silent, save for the soft hum of the Swann's systems. The world, unknowingly, breathes.

FADE TO BLACK

.....

SCENE 18 - ATOMIC GOOD SAMARITAN

INT. ELIZABETH SWANN - BRIDGE - NIGHT

The control room still hums with the residual tension of a battle recently won. JOHN STORM (40s), though weary, is resolute.

JOHN
Okay, Hal. Now what about the remaining missiles?

HAL (O.S.), typically unflappable, emits a sound that could almost be described as a sigh, a digital rubbing of temples.

HAL (O.S.)
John, China, Iran, and North Korea are burning up the airwaves—panic mode.

JOHN
(A grim musing)
If you play with fire, you get burned. But we still have a responsibility.

DAN (20s) leans forward, his expression intense.

DAN
It can't end like this, John.

Katya Volkov (30s) and Dan exchange a quick glance, then turn to Hal, a silent plea in their eyes.

HAL (O.S.)
Hey, don’t look at me. I’m suffering from sleep apnea over this.

John shoots him a dry smirk, a flicker of the old camaraderie.

JOHN
Hal, old buddy, we’re not done yet. We need to regain control of the remaining launch codes—dot the i’s, cross the t’s.

Hal swipes across his holographic console, analyzing trajectory patterns.

HAL (O.S.)
Most of these missiles are aimed at each other.

John blinks, taken aback.

JOHN
Come again?

Hal turns the screen toward them. Projected maps show intersecting flight paths, a terrifying ballet of destruction.

HAL (O.S.)
Russia and America were set to annihilate each other. China, Iran, and North Korea? Same story. Total mutual destruction.

A heavy, chilling silence settles over the room.

JOHN
(A low mutter)
Incredible. In a warped way… it makes sense.

Dan leans back, rubbing his chin, a wicked glint in his eye.

DAN
So why not let them sort themselves out?

HAL (O.S.)
(Voice dry)
Really?

Katya crosses her arms, a rare sharpness in her tone.

KATYA
You’d let millions die just to play referee?

Dan chuckles, a pure, mischievous sound.

DAN
You sly devil, Hal.

Hal’s digital avatar on screen offers a small, knowing smirk.

HAL (O.S.)
Thank you, Dan.

John and Katya stare at Dan, mouths slightly ajar, a mixture of disbelief and amusement.

DAN
(Shrugs, then turns serious)
Look, Skip, Katya. In gaming terms, Hal’s got a point. But this isn't a game—it’s reality. The mission is clear: we save the planet.

John lets out a slow breath, playing along, a wry smile on his face.

JOHN
Uh-huh.

DAN
Hal's just running scenarios. Like a chess player considering every move.

JOHN
And that was one possible move?

HAL (O.S.)
Possible. But not recommended, of course.

A beat. They look at each other, a shared understanding passing between them.

JOHN
(With renewed resolve)
We must save the planet.

HAL (O.S.)
We must save the planet.

DAN
We must save the planet.

KATYA
We must save the planet.

Beyond their command deck, the world remains oblivious. Daily life carries on, unaware of how close humanity came to the brink. The media has exhausted the kidnapping angle, but if they knew the cyber-war that had just unfolded, headlines would explode.

Now armed with crucial intelligence from the captured terrorist cells, Hal and Dan work at breakneck speed. Fingers fly across consoles, algorithms whirring. Lines of code dance across screens as they lock down the launch codes for the Iranian and Chinese missiles.

On the main display, the remaining RED INDICATORS on the global map begin to turn GREEN.

With temporary governments in China, Iran, and North Korea pleading for aid, John and his crew double down, harnessing CyberCore Genetica to unravel the remaining chaos.

Finally....the last missile control is restored. Neutralized. The final green light flickers on.

Their work is done. A job well done.

FADE TO BLACK

.....

SCENE 19 - KNIGHTS OF THE GARTER

INT. ELIZABETH SWANN - BRIDGE - NIGHT

The hum of the ship’s systems is the only sound. DAN (20s) shakes his head, his face a mask of contempt.

DAN
Stupid bastards.

JOHN STORM (40s) raises an eyebrow.

JOHN
Really, Dan?

DAN
Yes. If you’re going to invade another country, at least don’t fabricate evidence to gain approval from Parliament.

JOHN
Oh, you’re talking about Bush and Iraq.

HAL (O.S.)
Exactly. He’s a bit slow.

Dan chuckles, briefly relaxing before pulling his expression back into something serious. John mirrors him, the forced levity a thin veil over the deeper frustration.

Hal taps on his interface, pulling up reports.

HAL (O.S.)
Analysis shows General Reza Shah and his Triads have long harbored resentment. But the real trigger? Total disregard for sovereignty—the insult of awarding Tony Blair his KG.

John exhales sharply.

JOHN
Unfortunate nose-thumbing.

KATYA VOLKOV (30s)
(Measured, edged with disbelief)
But enough to ignite World War Three?

HAL (O.S.)
Apparently.

Hal’s fingers fly across the keyboard.

DAN
The smallest spark can ignite an inferno.

Katya turns to Dan, a playful yet knowing glint in her eyes.

KATYA
Do you thumb your nose at me, sir?

Dan smirks.

DAN
No, sir. But I thumb my nose.

KATYA
Shakespeare? Montagues and Capulets?

JOHN
Romeo and Juliet.

Dan nods, a flicker of surprise and respect in Katya’s expression.

But this isn't about an antiquated title. It's about complicity—how the international community stood idle, watching an unlawful invasion unfold. Their silence making them guilty by association. No consequences, only murmurs of accountability. Then, the final insult—the bestowal of the Order of the Knights of the Garter. A last straw. A final slap across the face of those who had waited decades for justice.

JOHN
So this all started brewing in 2014?

HAL (O.S.)
Spot on.

Tony Blair had softened the edges of intelligence reports, carefully spinning a narrative to justify war. Parliament, willingly blindfolded, nodded him through. The claim? Iraq was enriching uranium for bombs. The reality? No weapons. No enrichment equipment. Nothing.

And yet, years later, Britain knighted their own—rewarding those who manipulated the truth with cold calculation. The seeds of hatred had been planted long before, but the KG had watered them.

Years pass. Another petition gains traction. Under mounting public pressure, Keir Starmer finally issues an apology to Iraq—a formal admission of wrongdoing, a promise to reevaluate Britain’s antiquated honors system.

But the KG? Unrescinded. Words softened the wound, but actions still spoke louder.

JOHN
The PM should have withdrawn the KG.

HAL (O.S.)
That one gesture might have been enough to placate Red Dragon.

Katya nods slowly. She knows all too well how deep the resentment ran. It was like being slapped in the face with a cold fish...both ways.

The crew sits in silence, the weight of history pressing down on them.

Then Hal clears his throat, the hint of dark amusement returning to his synthesized voice.

HAL (O.S.)
Not their best move, then.

FADE TO BLACK.

.....

SCENE 20 - CRIME OF PASSION

INT. CONTROL ROOM - SWISS DETENTION FACILITY - NIGHT

The room is dimly lit, illuminated by the soft glow of monitors, showing the prisoner, detained. JOHN STORM (40s) is momentarily distracted by a console display. This is KATYA VOLKOV’s (30s) opening.

With calculated steps, she closes the distance to GENERAL REZA SHAH, who is secured at a table. Her presence slices through the dim light like a blade.

Reza Shah (50s, handsome, with an air of cold calculation) glances up. Recognition flashes in his dark eyes, followed by something less readable—intrigue, perhaps unease.

KATYA
Remember me, Reza?

He leans back, surveying her.

REZA SHAH
A bit older. Curvier, perhaps.

Katya smiles coldly, one brow lifting.

KATYA
Curvier? Is that all you can muster?

He smirks, but it's a flimsy mask. She sees the calculation behind his gaze...the weighing of possibilities, the mental chess. He had assumed her dead. Another loose end that failed to stay buried.

His amusement fades.

REZA SHAH
You stupid bitch. It was fun, but you didn’t think it was serious back then. And I thought you were done for.

Katya’s hand twitches...an instinct to strike, suppressed only by years of training.

KATYA
I was stupid. Young. And foolish. Tell me—who came after me?

REZA SHAH
Someone smarter. More useful as I climbed the ladder.

He says it as though reminiscing over past business transactions, not people. Then his voice drops, laced with the old familiar persuasion.

REZA SHAH
But why dwell on the past? We could still have it all, you know. I’m rich. We could share the loot, build a life together. Help me escape.

Katya exhales slowly, staring at the man who had once whispered her name like a promise.

KATYA
You left me for dead.

Reza hesitates—a flicker of guilt across his face, swallowed by cool detachment.

REZA SHAH
I was wounded too. No chance for either of us if I had tried. More chances of survival if I didn’t.

The logic is solid. But the truth? The truth is hollow, and Katya feels the weight of it press against her ribs like a steel vice.

Then he makes his fatal mistake.

KATYA
(Voice razor-sharp)
It was Nadia, wasn’t it?

Reza flinches...too slight for most to notice, but Katya is trained to read shifts in body language. His silence is answer enough.

Katya inhales, steadying herself.

KATYA
More useful?

REZA SHAH
More helpful. And not bad in bed.

He grins, leaning forward slightly, as if still believing he could salvage this conversation...that there was a version of events where she would fall back into his arms.

He is wrong.

The silence stretches. Then....

A single, sharp CRACK.

John storms into the room, breath shallow, senses firing like an alarm. Katya stands frozen, the Ruger LCP .38 trembling in her grip. The acrid scent of gunpowder mingles with the thick air. Reza Shah is slumped, motionless.

JOHN
(Voice urgent but measured)
Katya, steady, girl. It’s John. Lower the gun.

She doesn’t move. Five rounds still sit in the magazine, but only one had mattered. Tears spill freely now—anger, betrayal, relief, colliding in a storm behind her eyes.

John steps closer, slow, deliberate—a predator moving to calm another.

JOHN
Okay, Katya. I've got you.

He reaches her, gently prying the pistol from her fingers. Safety on. Tucked away.

She collapses into his embrace, body wracked with silent sobs, as if everything she had held back had finally shattered. John holds her tight, processing what has just unfolded.

Murder? No. A reckoning.

JOHN
(Into his comms)
Hal, you caught that?

HAL’s (O.S. from Elizabeth Swann) voice comes through his earpiece, sharp, clinical.

HAL (O.S.)
Yes, Skipper. And judging by the goading? He pulled the trigger himself.

John exhales, staring at the fallen man.

JOHN
We’re not in France, Hal.

HAL (O.S.)
No, but we’re on a military mission. The General was the enemy. I’d imagine military law has its considerations.

JOHN
Tricky.

Katya, unaware of their exchange, only feels John’s grip loosen slightly...hesitation. Uncertainty. She hates that.

Then, across the main instrument panel in the Elizabeth Swann, a message flickers to life.

MESSAGE (O.S.)
JOB DONE. FROM: RWL (RUSSIA WITH LOVE)

FADE TO BLACK

.....

SCENE 21 - NATIONS REUNITED

EXT. UN HEADQUARTERS - DAY

The iconic flagpoles of the United Nations flutter against a pristine sky. Limousines pull up, disgorging world leaders. The atmosphere is electric with anticipation.

INT. UN GENERAL ASSEMBLY HALL - DAY

The grand hall buzzes with THOUSANDS OF DELEGATES. XI JINPING, VLADIMIR PUTIN, NARENDRA MODI, DONALD TRUMP, JOE BIDEN, EMMANUEL MACRON, and AYATOLLAH ALI KHAMENEI, to name but a few, sit in their assigned seats, looking surprisingly composed yet still bearing a hint of the harrowing experience. They are here, as good as their word, to speak as one voice.

A massive jumbotron screen above the podium shows pre-recorded footage of the leaders, side-by-side, recounting their ordeal.

JILL BIRD NEWS ANCHOR (V.O.)

...their harrowing experiences, and how they owed their lives to the courage and daring of a small crew, and the incredible Hal and his AI prowess, that saved the world from a potential nuclear winter.

The camera PANS to the back of the hall. JOHN STORM (40s), looking sharp in a tailored suit, enters, accompanied by KATYA VOLKOV (30s), DAN (20s), and a subtle holographic shimmer indicating HAL's presence. John’s expression is humble, almost sheepish, as he takes a seat.

EXT. OSLO, NORWAY - NOBEL PEACE CENTER - DAY (FLASHBACK)

Bright sunlight. John, wearing a slightly ill-fitting tuxedo, stands on a stage. Katya, Dan, and Hal (as a subtle blue glow emanating from a device in Dan's pocket) are just behind him.

The Nobel Committee Chairman presents John with the Nobel Peace Prize. It is an emotional event. John’s eyes glisten, but he holds it together. Katya, her composure recovered, offers a small, supportive smile. She was not charged for General Reza Shah's death.

John bows, then gestures for Katya, Dan, and Hal to join him. They all take a bow to RAPTUROUS APPLAUSE, UNPRECEDENTED WHISTLING, and HOWLS OF JOY.

INT. UN GENERAL ASSEMBLY HALL - DAY (PRESENT)

The applause from the Jumbotron broadcast dies down. A hushed anticipation fills the hall.

The President of the General Assembly approaches the podium.

PRESIDENT (O.S.)

Ladies and gentlemen, it is my distinct honor to introduce a man who needs no introduction, yet whose actions have redefined what it means to be a global citizen. Commander John Storm.

A collective gasp, then a wave of excited murmurs. John slowly rises. He walks towards the podium, a figure of quiet strength, not a war hero, not a politician, but a man who has seen humanity at its worst—and its very best.

He steps forward, humbled, yet commanding.

JOHN
Ladies and gentlemen. Esteemed delegates. Leaders. Citizens of this fragile Earth—our shared home.

The words echo through the grand hall. No rustling papers, no shifting chairs—only silence. Thousands of eyes fixate on him.

JOHN
I do not stand before you today to revel in victory. Nor do I come with demands. I come with a warning—and a choice.

The weight of expectation presses against the walls. A choice.

JOHN
For too long, we have lived as islands. Walls raised, weapons sharpened, suspicions cultivated. We have called it diplomacy, we have called it defense, we have called it security.

He pauses. His gaze sweeps over the assembly—leaders who, for the first time in history, experienced the terror of captivity firsthand. Their faces reflect his words.

JOHN
Yet, when the abyss opened before us, when the world trembled on the edge of nuclear fire, it was not walls that saved us. It was not military strength. It was unity. It was trust. It was a belief that—even in the darkest moments—humanity is worth saving.

The silence is heavy. Some clasp hands. Some lean forward, lips pressed into solemn lines. Others—eyes glistening—stare unblinking at the man who had given them a second chance.

He raises his voice—not in anger, but in conviction.

JOHN
The question before us is not whether we can continue as we were. The question is whether we are willing to change—truly change. To abandon the cycle of mistrust, the hunger for power, the lie that survival means dominance.

A murmur ripples through the assembly. This is not the speech of a politician. This is a demand for the soul of humanity.

JOHN
I stand before you today with six truths—truths that must become our foundation, or we will fall again.

His words carve through the air, each principle landing like a hammer blow.

JOHN
I stand before you not as a politician, but as a humble adventurer—a man who has sailed the treacherous seas, climbed the highest peaks, and witnessed both the beauty and brutality of our world. My name is John Storm, and I come with a message of hope...a vision that transcends borders, ideologies, and self-interest. If I may sum this up under those six heads:

He pauses, taking a small, deliberate sip of water.

JOHN
ONE - Respecting Our Brother Nations. Our brother nations—each with their unique cultures, histories, and aspirations...are not adversaries. They are partners on this fragile voyage through time. Let us respect their physical and financial borders, recognizing that sovereignty is not a fortress but a bridge. When we honor the dignity of others, we strengthen the fabric of our global community.

JOHN
TWO - Abandoning the Covetous Mindset. Too often, we covet what lies beyond our borders...the minerals, the fertile lands, the untapped resources. But let us remember that Earth’s bounty is not a zero-sum game. Instead of seeking dominance, let us seek collaboration. Let us share knowledge, technology, and prosperity. For in lifting others, we lift ourselves.

JOHN
THREE - Transparency and Integrity. Transparency is the cornerstone of trust. Let us come to the table with clean hands, devoid of hidden agendas or ulterior motives. When we negotiate openly, we build bridges of understanding. Let our treaties be forged in the light of day, not in shadowy corridors. And let integrity guide our actions, for it is the currency of lasting partnerships.

JOHN
FOUR - The Circular Economy: A Blueprint for Sustainability. Imagine a world where waste becomes opportunity, where resources flow endlessly in cycles. The Circular Economy...a concept rooted in harmony with nature—holds the key. Let us move away from the linear model of consumption and disposal. Instead, let us reuse, recycle, and regenerate. From discarded electronics to agricultural byproducts, every element finds purpose anew.

JOHN
FIVE - Dismantling the Sword of Damocles. Nuclear missiles—those silent harbingers of doom...hang over our heads like the Sword of Damocles. But we need not live in perpetual fear. Let us embark on a phased dismantling of these instruments of destruction. As we demilitarize, we free resources for education, healthcare, and sustainable development. Our children deserve a world where the threat of annihilation is but a distant memory.

He pauses, a deep breath filling his lungs. He contemplates another sip of water, then forgoes it, compelled to continue.

JOHN
SIX - UN Development Goals: Our North Star. The United Nations’ Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) are not mere aspirations; they are our compass. Let us align our policies, investments, and actions with these noble objectives. From eradicating poverty to combating climate change, we have a shared duty. By preserving political sovereignty while embracing collective responsibility, we can build a world where no one is left behind.

His voice softens, yet holds immense power.

JOHN
In conclusion, my fellow citizens of our precious blue Earth, let us be the architects of our destiny. Let us choose peace over conflict, collaboration over competition, and stewardship over exploitation. For in the quiet moments of reflection, we realize that our borders are but lines drawn on a map—a reminder that we are all passengers on Spaceship Earth—we are all Solar Navigators.

He stops. The silence is deafening.

Then...like the first crack of thunder before the storm.....a single, hesitant CLAP.

Another.

Then....the floodgate breaks.

The assembly erupts. A STANDING OVATION that shakes the very ground beneath them. APPLAUSE, ROARING CHEERS, hands beating together in unrestrained emotion.

John Storm stands motionless, his chest rising and falling with the weight of the moment. For a second—a fleeting, impossible second—he wonders if he has said too much.

Then Katya, Dan, and Hal (represented by the subtle glow of the device in Dan’s pocket) stand beside him, hands on his shoulders, faces lit with pride.

He takes a slow breath. Then, with a nod, he steps back, relinquishing the podium. As he turns, a tidal wave of applause crashes once more....WHISTLES, CHEERS, HANDS POUNDING against tables.

The world has heard him. And the world will not forget.

EXT. BUCKINGHAM PALACE - DAY (SEVERAL WEEKS LATER)

A grand, televised ceremony. The King, in full regalia, pins the VICTORIA CROSS onto John Storm’s chest. John also bears the HERO OF THE RUSSIAN FEDERATION, the PEOPLE'S REPUBLIC OF CHINA FRIENDSHIP MEDAL, and the PURPLE HEART.

The camera TIGHTENS on John’s face—a quiet, triumphant pride. A Guinness World Records certificate is briefly shown, proclaiming him the person with the most multi-national decorations from a single mission, in a single year.

The future is uncertain, but for today, hope abounds.

FADE OUT

.....

PROPOSED SHOOTING SEQUENCE (90-110 pages) - ORDER MAY BE VARIED

PART 1.

CHAPTER 1. - ISTANBUL, TURKEY, THE BOSPHORUS STRAIT, BYZANTIUM TABLETS, SUNKEN REMAINS NEAR CONSTANTINOPLE, TURKISH MUSEUM: John Storm, on a routine artifact dive in the Bosphorus, Istanbul, stumbles upon a coded message hidden within a smuggled Sumerian tablet captured by Blue Shield. The message reveals a chilling covert alliance (Triad) - Russia, Iran, and North Korea - codenamed "Red Dragon" - are planning a coordinated attack. Their goal: global domination.

CHAPTER 2. - KIDNAP CHAOS - 'RED DRAGON' - THE CONTROLLING CELL FOR 'OPERATION GRAND SLAM,' WITH 'GOLDEN CAGE,' & 'MIDNIGHT SUN': Phase One: The Kidnapping Chaos. 'Red Dragon,' using advanced sleeper cells and cyberwarfare, orchestrates the abduction of key political figures from the West - the US President, the British Prime Minister - Keir Starmer, the French President - Emmanuel Macron, and the German Chancellor - Friedrich Merz. Cutting off the heads of the corrupt capitalist Dragon.

CHAPTER 3. - JILL BIRD, BBC ANCHOR - NEWS REPORT, KIDNAP CHAOS - DEMANDS - MARKETS IN TURMOIL: World military are thrown into disarray, communication channels are jammed, and financial markets plummet - It's a Fire Sale. 'Red Dragon' broadcasts a chilling message, threatening to kill the kidnap victims, if their demands are not met. The demands (vast resource concessions) being a feint.

CHAPTER 4. - THE MASTERMIND - The plan is orchestrated by a shadowy figure deep within the Iranian government, General Reza Shah. Shah believes the West is on the verge of collapse and seeks to exploit their weakness for global domination. He's been secretly stockpiling gold and weapons for years, along with building a network of fallout shelters for the Triad underground elite, about which the West appear oblivious.

CHAPTER 5. - OPERATION GRAND SLAM - Intrigued, Storm deciphers the message with the help of a former Russian intelligence agent turned informant, Katya Volkov. With international order on the brink, Hal, recognizing the coded language from the tablet, deciphers the Triad's plan. John inadvertently teams up with a brilliant but jaded ex-KGB agent, Nadia Petrova, who knows the inner workings of the Triad from eavesdropping years before. Nadia sends anonymous regular messages to John. John and Katya discover they reference a sinister plot: "Operation Grand Slam" - The Motive to create global chaos as a prelude to an all out nuclear attack.

"Red Dragon" - North Korea, coordinating joint operations, targeting Iran and North Korea leaders in Operation Grand Slam. "Midnight Sun" - A cell to abduct key USA and European leaders, western politicians for kidnapping - and - Golden Cage: Refers to a joint operation by Russia (Red Dragon) and North Korea (Midnight Sun) targeting key Western politicians for coordinated kidnappings and transits.

CHAPTER 6. - JOHN RACES TO NAPLES, JUST TOO LATE TO STOP KIDNAPPINGS - John and Katya race against time to prevent a series of high-profile kidnappings, seemingly chasing tails as though Red Dragon has intel - the US President on route to G7 summit Naples - Donald Trump was already missing, so too the British Prime Minister. The French President, and the German Chancellor were thought to be next. Red Dragon triggers kidnap commands timed to opportunistic venues. Of which G7 is ideal for remaining Europeans. Leaving Xi Jinping, Kim Jong Un and Ali Khamenei.

CHAPTER 7. - OUT OF TIME: They travel to Tripoli, ending in Bierut, where the trail leading to Ali Khamenei, Jinping and Jong Un deciphering clues inadvertently left behind by the kidnappers. Each location tests John's deciphering skills and Katya's knowledge of international espionage. But even with Hal they are too late - the trail disappears. The Cells capture their hostages just minutes before John gets to the sites.

PART 2.

CHAPTER 8. - A MOLE: One of the kidnapped leaders is suspected as being a double agent working for Shah. This throws John and Katya off track, forcing them to question the allegiances of the hostages. Hal fails to identify any incriminating communications.

CHAPTER 9. - PRISONERS: The chase leads to a secret underground facility in Iran, where the politicians are being held captive. It is seemingly impregnable reinforced concrete, much like a super bank vault, near Char Bahar, Gulf of Oman, Arabian Sea. It is impregnable, without harming the hostages. This is the Golden Cage, the European cell was named after.

CHAPTER 10. - CHAR BAHAR: John and Katya must infiltrate the heavily guarded complex and free the hostages before a nuclear strike is launched on major Western cities. Hal calculates that a nuclear launch is imminent, where brute force hacking at NORAD and other military bases is detected. The clock is ticking, and John now realizes that the kidnappings are diversionary tactics. But still he pushes on.

CHAPTER 11. - MISSION IMPOSSIBLE: Having taken out the perimeter guards, John and Katya finally succeed in gaining access to the prisoners the old fashioned way with thermal lances - a seemingly impossible mission - freeing the hostages - and transferring the bewildered heads of state to the Swann by RIB. Then the Swann vanishes into the Arabian Sea for a rendezvous with an ageing USS Vermont, Virginia class nuclear submarine. During transit, the freed captives talk through John freely, Hal interpreting telepathically. The freed prisoners cannot believe he understands so many languages. And his grasp on politics.

CHAPTER 12. - BBC WORLD NEWS: Jill Bird item exposes Shah's plan to the world, discovering and revealing his identity as leader of Red Dragon, a Cell operating somewhere in the Middle East, and turning the tide against him. Revealed by Katya Volkov to John as she admits to having had an affair with the handsome Iranian General many years previously and was cast aside, left for dead. Adding pressure to an already knife edge plan for the Triads.

CHAPTER 13. - CYBER CHESS GRAND MASTER: A high-stakes battle ensues involving advanced weaponry and cunning strategy. With launch and abort codes changing by the minute as US, Chinese, and Russian military are running at full pelt to stand still - helpless against cyber attacks. It's Military main frames from three locations versus Hal and John Storm, as the fastest computer CyberCore Genetica™ fends off brute force worms and viruses. It's a standoff without a final solution. Hal and CyberCore Genetica effectively block and counter, but need to locate the Cells that are hosting the attacks.

CHAPTER 14. - BASE 37 NUCLEAR STRIKE: In cyber defeat and frustrated, Red Dragon attempts to strike fear into their targets with three small devices in Beijing, Moscow and Washington. Two devices are detected and defused. The third detonates at Base 37. This is a last-ditch effort by Shah's loyalists, saying to the world they are not safe, thumbing their noses at the CIA, FSB, MI6, Interpol and other agencies. Meantime, stockpiles of missiles by the superpowers remain a tempting target for other extremists that must be eliminated, with the assistance of John's new 'world-leader' friends.

PART 3.

CHAPTER 15. - PLAYING WITH FIRE: Hal, John and Katya, disable the launch sequence for the Russian missiles. But cannot trace the source code, meaning transmissions could all begin again. Iranian and Chinese missiles are still a danger. The situation could rebound against Red Dragon; if only communist missiles are deactivated. While US and European missiles could still destroy the antagonists countries. Their plan could backfire. All hard lines are cut to Russian, Chinese and Iranian missiles, then manually shut down. Submarine missiles are systematically deactivated. Finally, US hard lines are cut, and submarine missile systems manually turned off. The world breathes a sigh of relief, Jill Bird reporting.

CHAPTER 16. - TREBLE AGENT: One of the kidnapped leaders is identified as secretly sympathetic to Shah's cause. His identity becomes known during debriefing, when John (with Hal present telepathically) connects the dots, and he is turned around as a treble agent, used to penetrate further into the Red Dragon Cell, and close that and hunt down, then arrest of General Reza Shah.

CHAPTER 17. - BLOODHOUNDS: John and Katya work together to track down Shah's remaining Cells, devout followers who fight to the death. John prevails to prevent further chaos. Within and from these Cells, they obtain valuable intelligence, much needed passwords and the like.

CHAPTER 18. - ATOMIC GOOD SAMARITAN: Using their new information, they take back control of the launch codes for the Iranian and Chinese missiles. The temporary administrations in China, Iran and North Korea plead with John Storm for his help. Not that he wasn't working double time to save them, but with Hal's help and using the CyberCore Genetica, they finally defuse the situation. Control of their missiles is restored. Then neutralized. All hail to John Storm.

CHAPTER 19. - KNIGHTS OF THE GARTER: The root cause of Red Dragon is revealed as discontent brewing from 2014, when Tony Blair deceived Parliament with false intelligence, so initiating the invasion of Iraq by way of a coalition with US President George Walker Bush. The Brits knighting their own for such corruption, and intelligence abuses was the last straw. As the seeds of hate were revealed, another Petition succeeds in Blair's KG honour being reviewed with Keir Starmer making sincere public apology to Iraq. With a promise that the British honours system will be examined, such as not to ignite future Red Dragons.

CHAPTER 20. - CRIME OF PASSION: Katya Volkov has a hidden agenda of her own - revenge over a jilted romance, being used and left for dead. She takes out Reza Shah, a a personal and simmering crime of passion - after he goads her, saying how she was used to obtain information taunting her about Nadia Petrova - before John can stop her the General is dead. Honour satisfied, she collapses from shock, the experience strengthens their partnership, hinting at future adventures; maybe. John making a mental note not to dally with her emotions thus. A final message is delivered anonymously: Job done!

CHAPTER 21. - NATIONS REUNITED: The world grapples with the fallout of the attack, both literal and geopolitical. A broadcast transmitted all across the globe, from all the kidnap victims speaking as one voice, assures the world that they will now multiply their efforts to work together to resolve their differences. The first step being to dismantle their nuclear stockpiles, and agree never to replenish such weapons of mass destruction. One warning like this being seen as enough. John receives several honours. Including the 'Hero of the Russian Federation' (replacing the Order of Lenin), People's Republic of China Friendship Medal, Purple Heart (for being injured while a temporary US Navy SEAL) and after some debate, the Victoria Cross, in place of the at first suggested George Cross. And finally, the Nobel Peace Prize awarded in Oslo, to a standing ovation at a UN General assembly later that year. Making John the winner of a Guinness Book of Records entry and certificate, for the person with most multi-national decorations from a single mission.

CYBER WW3III CAST:

CHARACTERS: PROTAGONISTS	DESCRIPTION

Admiral Lawrence Francis Percival	First Sealord, British Royal Navy
Antonio Guterres	United Nations' Secretary General
Ark, The	The world's most comprehensive interactive DNA database
Benjamin Reid Blakestone RN	Submariner Commander HMS Neptune (Captain)
BioCore™	A digital communication interface for the human brain
Captain Nemo	AI onboard computer system
Charley Temple	Researcher & camerwoman, good friend of John Storm
CyberCore Genetica™	The world's smallest, fastest & most powerful supercomputer
Dan Hawk	Electronics & computer wizard, crew member Elizabeth Swann
Dr Roberta Treadstone	Blue Shield, Newcastle University, England
Elizabeth Swann HMHS British Royal Navy	World's fastest solar/hydrogen ship & floating laboratory
Excalibur, Pendragon & Merlin	Anti piracy weapon & ship security system
George Franks	Legal and intelligence trust manager, Swindles & Gentry
HAL	The onboard AI supercomputer ship manager
Jack Mason	CIA black ops agent
Jill Bird	Senior BBC news world service anchor
Jens Stoltenberg	Secretary General of NATO (North Atlantic Treaty Organization)
John Storm	Ocean adventurer, marine archaeologist, Commander RN
King Charles III	British Monarch in waiting: King William
King William V	British royal rushed into hiding with Queen Catherine
Nautilus	Elizabeth Swann's onboard survey ROV
Professor Douglas Storm	John Storm's uncle, designer of Elizabeth Swann
Professor Jacques Pierre Daccord	UNESCO sunken realms division, conservationist
Queen Catherine	Royal consort to King William V - Charlotte, George & Louis
Richard Leon (Lionheart) Engelheart	Lieutenant, a brave submariner HMS Neptune
SSN Neptune	Stricken Astute nuclear sub with Spearfish torpedoes
Steve Green	Freelance reporter, friend of Charley Temple
Suki Hall	A marine biologist, admirer of John's work
Tom Hudson	Sky News Editor, always looking for an exclusive
Trish Lippard	Cleopatra's call sign to protect her royal identity
William Liam Wallace	Scottish director BAE Systems, MOD contractor, whistleblower

CHARACTERS: ANTAGONISTS	DESCRIPTION

Ali Khamenei	Iranian Grand Ayatollah
Donald Trump	Former 45th President of the United States of America
Emmanuel Macron	French President
General Reza Shar	Red Dragon triad mastermind, of Operation Grand Slam
Joe Biden	President USA
Harry (Dirty) Hallem Holland	Chief Constable - Scotland Yard (Metropolitan Police)
Katya Volkov	Russian intelligence agent
Keir Starmer	British Prime Minister
Kim Jong Un	Supreme leader North Korea
Nadia Petrova	Former KGB agent helping Katya and John anonymously
Narendra Modi	Prime Minister of India
Nick (The Devil) Johnson MP	Corrupt UK Minister for Defence, oil investor
Olaf Scholz	German Chancellor, SDP
Sir Rodney Vernon Dunbar	MI6 military intelligence (General) oil investor
Tony Blair	Former British PM, invaded Iraq on false intelligence
Vladimir Putin	Russian President
Xi Jinping	President People's Republic of China

WWIII3 Cyber Nuclear Holocaust is an original John Storm political espionage thriller. This plot offers a thrilling adventure for John Storm, with high stakes, international intrigue, and a race against time.

SYNOPSIS - DOOMSDAY (GRAND SLAM) GAMBIT - Disillusioned extremists in Iran, North Korea and Russia, grow impatient waiting for their leaders to act decisively, before they are too old. Having watched the Ukraine debacle of Vladimir Putin rebound to weaken their CRINK axis members. This despite Hamas launching against Israel and Houthi attacks on the Red Sea. All that had the effect of, was waking the sleeping giant: NATO.

They hatch a plot to kidnap top politicians from the west to create confusion, as a prelude to an all out nuclear attack, having first stockpiled sufficient gold and weapons reserves, and fallout bunkers for their cells, to be able to stage a second wave of conventional attacks, to in effect, take over the world after the planned nuclear holocaust. Including assassinating their jaded leaders: Xi Jinping; Iranian Grand Ayatollah, Ali Khamenei, and Kim Jong Un, supreme leader of communist North Korea.

CHAPTERS | CHARACTERS | MEDIA | MOVIE REF | SCREENPLAYS

COMMANDER JOHN STORM NAVY SEAL AT THE HELM OF A PLOT TO WIPE OUT WESTERN NATO ALLIES IN A NUCLEAR HOLOCAUST - THEN RISE AGAIN FROM THE ASHES - FROM BOMB PROOF BUNKERS STOCKED TO THE YING YANG WITH FOOD AND WEAPONS TO TAKE OVER PLANET EARTH

SEE JOHN STORM'S COMPASS OR RETURN TO BASE

This is a work of fiction. Names and Characters are the product of the authors' imaginations,

and any resemblance to any person, living or deceased, is entirely coincidental, save for reference to heads of state, whose dialogue, actions and thoughts do not represent those of the actual persons. Being entirely fictional. All rights reserved.