Untraceable Page #3

TIM WILKS, 20’s, clean-cut, wearing two hearing aids, walks

up, hands Marsh a Post-it, and whispers with a subtle speech

impairment--

WILKS:

From the Baltimore PD. They

weren’t sure what to do with it.

Marsh nods, takes it. It reads www.killwithme.com. Before

Marsh can react, Sally speaks, which sets Marsh typing--

MARSH:

Perfect. Do you have the fax

number, too? You’re the best.

Vouch for me, okay? Call him in

two minutes. Thanks.

She hangs up, tosses aside the Post-it. Types in a phone

number.

MARSH (cont’d)

Judge Lipson, sorry to bother you

at home. My name’s Jennifer Marsh.

I’m a Supervisor in the FBI Cyber

Division up in Riverton, Maryland.

Sally Stiles from the U.S.

(MORE)

7.

MARSH(cont'd)

Attorney’s office will be calling

you to confirm that.

Marsh types a fax number into the warrant application and

hits Send.

MARSH (cont’d)

A search warrant, your honor.

Multiple bank fraud, access-device

fraud, and fraudulent I.D.

.

(beat)

Thanks so much. The application

should be falling into the tray of

your fax machine any second now.

Marsh hangs up. On her screen, list after list flies past.

She points and clicks on FBI TAMPA. She waits. Someone

picks up.

MARSH (cont’d)

Hi. Jennifer Marsh -- a Supervisor

in the Cyber Division. I need you

to knock on a door for me.

EXT. TAMPA HOUSE -- HOUR LATER -- NIGHT.

Moonlight. Crickets. A bland house in a middle-class

suburban neighborhood. A host of FBI, SHERIFF, and POLICE

CARS, lights turned off, glide up and silently park.

A swarm of shadows, as AGENTS and OFFICERS silently emerge

and take up a perimeter.

INT. MARSH’S WORK STATION -- SAME -- RAINY NIGHT.

More relaxed now, Marsh organizes papers on her desk.

Griffin, typing into a chat room, mutters bitterly--

GRIFFIN:

I’ve gotta get reassigned.

MARSH:

What’s the matter?

GRIFFIN:

This retired Army Captain is

offering to come over to where I’m

baby-sitting, only he’s got so many

chats going, he can’t keep his

names straight. He keeps calling

me Jill instead of Molly.

(beat)

Let’s see what his cellmates call

him....

8.

Marsh smiles, then abruptly notices the Post-it Wilks gave

her. She reads it again, frowns, then with one hand types

killwithme.com into a browser and hits Enter.

EXT. TAMPA HOUSE -- SAME -- NIGHT.

With his team in position, GRAY, 40, an FBI agent, strides to

the front door with ANOTHER AGENT. Gray knocks.

GRAY:

FBI, Mr. Barrow! Open the door!

INT. MARSH’S WORK STATION -- SAME -- RAINY NIGHT.

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