Runaway Oakland
(a story about two girls eventually getting what they both want...a family)

Delray: a runaway, a survivor, 13 going on 21, she hasn't eaten in two days, never knew her parents, just ran away from her fourth foster home, tired of being abused, determined to make her own way, she see's an ad in a local paper saying... 
GIRLS WANTED!
she hasn't eaten in two days....

Brasil: a 30 year old escort working Palm Beach. 
tonight she's going to runaway with her Johnny
leave this life behind...make a fresh start
what she doesn't know is that he's had a change of heart
she has two tickets to Oakland, a hotel room by the airport and a job interview on Monday. 
Oakland, Oklahoma....it doesn't matter to Brasil as long as she's with her Johnny

Scene 1:

(Delray is hitchhiking. Brasil is packing
The driver has been asking Delray questions for the last hour
she's been around enough to know something's not right with this guy

A beat-up sedan speeds along a highway. DELRAY (13, looks older, wary, dressed in worn clothes) sits tensely in the passenger seat. The DRIVER (40s, slick, unsettling) glances at her too often. Delray rubs her stomach, a low growl audible.
Delray stares out the window, jaw tight...she shifts, pulling her knees closer. A small, faded scar is visible on her wrist.)

Delray
Look mister, can we just drive. I don't want to talk anymore.

Driver
Ok....I tell you what....Why don't we go to my place. You could make yourself comfortable, take a shower, have a little something to eat and then I'll drop you off at your aunt's.

Delray
No that's ok. This is fine here..,.right here.

Driver
Your aunt does alright for herself.
What's she do for a living ?

Delray
Thanks for the ride.

Driver
Ok sugar...maybe next time.....

(Delray exits the car. What starts out as a walk becomes a sprint towards a faded pink apartment building. The sedan idles across the street. 
Delray pounds on the door, desperate. 

BRASIL (30, striking, dressed in a vibrant but slightly worn dress, a mix of world-weariness and fading beauty) opens the door, a half-packed suitcase at her feet.

Brasil's eyes widen, a flicker of recognition, or maybe just empathy, crosses her face. She sees a younger version of herself in Delray's desperation.)

Delray
You're Brasil, right?   I'm Delray.
I just hitchhiked for two days to get here, to answer this ad....all the way from Jacksonville
That creep over there wanted me to go home with him.
I got nowhere else to go............
My stomach hurts, I haven't eaten in two days. I don't have any money.
please don't make me go...

Brasil
Slow down kid!....
Your scaring me....you remind me of me when I was....hold old are you kid, 12, 13? 

Delray
16

Brasil
Yeah and I'm Princess Lea..........
Why would you want to come here?
I hate this fucking place.
This town gives snobs a bad name. Phonies, they're all full of shit.
I need to be around real people.
Like my Johnny. Johnny's real. Well....as real as it gets for me.

I'm sorry kid, we're outta here tonight. You picked a helluva day to blow into town.
We're leaving all this behind. It's all bullshit anyways.
We're gonna live in the middle of nowhere, get jobs, have kids, be a family
no more drugs....no more madams........no more assholes
no more.........palm beach.
Honey you need to get out of here. This is no place for a kid.
Where's your folks. You want me to call 'em for you?

Delray
I don't have any folks. I've lived in 4 foster homes in 13, I mean 16 years.
I'm sick and tired of gettin treated like shit.
I thought you might be able to help me.

(Brasil's cell phone rings.....)

Brasil
Hold on honey....it's Johnny

(We see Johnny has had a change of heart just by Brasil's reaction to what he's saying)

Hi baby.......what.............but Johnny..........no..........
You know what, why don't yo go fuck yourself!

(it starts to sink in, she's not going anywhere)

Why would he let me buy these God damned tickets!
Why the fuck would I want to go to Oakland. This shit always happens to me
Just once, once! Why can't I get what I want....
just once.....

(she breaks down)

Delray
No...no please don't do that......... please don't cry
I hate when people cry.
That son of a bitch doesn't deserve you!
how could he treat you like that!
he promised you!

(as Brasil composes herself... she looks around and realizes it's time to go....she'll just have to make a new life on her own...)

Brasil
Look at us....all dressed up with no place to go.
(pause)
You know what. Let's go.

Delray
What?

Brasil
Grab your shit, we're outta here..

Delray
You and me?
Where we going?

Brasil
Fuck Johnny. We're using his tickets. We're goin to Oakland!

Delray
Oakland?

Brasil
Yeah, it's all paid for. I got a job interview on Monday. You got a better idea?

Delray
No....Oakland sounds great!
I'll bet they've got really good food there.
I always wanted to be a Raiderette.

Brasil
Hop in.

(as Delray enters Brasil's car, she moves a towel on the passenger seat.

Delray
What's that?

Brasil
Don't worry, it's just for protection. Not that we're gonna need it where we're goin.....

(a car sits idling across the street)

Delray
Hey....that's the guy I hitchhiked with. What's he doin here?

Brasil
Don't look at him!

Delray
Do you know him ?
Why would he come back here again?

Brasil doesn't answer. 
She throws the car into gear, tires screeching, and speeds away. 
The sedan across the street follows.

CUT TO BLACK

Scene: Oakland Arrival - Hotel Lobby

Setting: The brightly lit, somewhat generic lobby of an airport hotel in Oakland, California. Brasil and Delray stand near the reception desk, a couple of worn suitcases at their feet. They look tired but a flicker of hope is in their eyes.

Brasil
 (Sighs, looking around) 
Well, here we are. Oakland. Not exactly the middle of nowhere with a picket fence, but it's something.

Delray
(Eyes wide, a little overwhelmed) 
It's… bigger than I thought. Smells kinda like exhaust and… something sweet?

Brasil
 Airport air. You get used to it. Come on, let's check in and get some food in you, kid. You look like a strong breeze could knock you over.

(Brasil approaches the reception desk. Delray trails behind, still taking in the surroundings. Unseen by them, through the large glass windows facing the street, a beat-up sedan idles across the way. Inside, THE DRIVER (as per his image) watches them intently, a subtle, unsettling smirk playing on his lips.)

Brasil
(To the Receptionist, a weary-looking woman) 
Hi, we have a reservation. Name is… uh… 
(She glances at a crumpled piece of paper)
 …Miller. Room for two, booked under Miller.

Receptionist
(Taps on her keyboard) 
Miller… yes, here it is. Two nights. Can I see some ID?

(Brasil fumbles in her purse and produces her driver's license. As the receptionist checks it, Delray spots something outside.)

Delray
(Quietly, tugging on Brasil’s sleeve) 
Hey… that car across the street…

Brasil
(Without looking) 
\What about it, honey? Just another airport taxi waiting for a fare.

Delray
No… it looks like the one… the one that gave me the ride.

(Brasil freezes, her eyes flicking nervously towards Delray, then subtly towards the window. She tries to appear casual to the receptionist.)

Brasil
 (Forcing a smile at the receptionist) 
Long trip. Kid’s a little jumpy.

Receptionist
(Hands back Brasil’s ID) 
Here’s your key card. Room 312. Elevator’s just past the gift shop. Enjoy your stay.

Brasil
Thanks. Come on, Delray. Let’s go find that room.

(Brasil takes the key card and quickly steers Delray away from the desk, her eyes darting back towards the window. The sedan is still there.)

Delray
 (Whispering as they walk) 
Brasil, I’m telling you, it’s him. That creepy guy. What’s he doing here?

Brasil
 (Trying to sound reassuring) 
Honey, there are a lot of beat-up sedans in the world. You’re probably just tired. Let’s get upstairs.

(They enter the elevator. Brasil presses the button for the third floor, her gaze fixed on the closing doors. She lets out a shaky breath once they are alone.)

Brasil
(Softly) 
Okay, kid. You sure it was the same car?

Delray
 Yeah. I remember the dent in the back fender, and the way the paint was peeling on the hood. It was him.

Brasil
 (Her mind racing) 
That’s… not good. Why would he follow you all the way here? Jacksonville to Oakland is a long drive.

Brasil
He was asking me weird questions. And then he wanted me to go to his place…

(Brasil’s face hardens. A protective instinct kicks in.)

Brasil
 He didn’t… he didn’t touch you, did he?

Delray
 No. I got out. That’s why I ran to your place.

(The elevator doors open. Brasil grips Delray’s shoulder firmly.)

Brasil
 Okay, listen to me. We’re going to our room. We’re going to lock the door. And we are not opening it for anyone we don’t know. Understand?

Delray
 Yeah… but why is he here?

Brasil
 I don’t know, honey. But we’re going to figure it out. And we’re going to be careful.

(They walk down the hallway to room 312. Brasil checks the hallway, her eyes scanning for anything out of the ordinary. They enter the room, and Brasil immediately locks the door and puts the security latch on.)

Brasil
 (Peeking through the peephole) 
Stay away from the window for a minute.

(She looks out, trying to see if she can spot the sedan from their room. The angle isn't great.)

Delray
Brasil, you look scared. What’s going on?

Brasil
 (Turning back, trying to keep her voice steady) 
I just… I don’t like coincidences, Delray. That guy… he gave you a bad feeling, right? My gut’s telling me the same thing.

(Suddenly, a discreet knock on the door. Both girls freeze, their eyes wide with apprehension.)

Brasil
 (Whispering) 
Who is it?

(Another, slightly more insistent knock.)

Delray
 Don’t open it!

Brasil
 (Whispering) 
I’m not going to.

(She moves silently to the peephole again, her heart pounding. She peers out, her breath catching in her throat. Standing in the hallway is… the cab driver from across the street, looking directly at their door.)

Brasil
 (Muttering under her breath, confusion and a flicker of unease crossing her face) 
What the hell…?

Delray
 Who is it? What do you see?

Brasil doesn't answer immediately, her mind racing, trying to understand why the driver who followed them from Palm Beach is now knocking on their hotel room door in Oakland. The pieces are starting to feel wrong, but the full picture of the surveillance and the potential danger remains terrifyingly unclear.

Scene: Hotel Room - Night

(The discreet knocks on the door cease. Brasil remains peering through the peephole for a long moment, ensuring the cab driver is truly gone. She slowly backs away from the door, a knot of anxiety tightening in her chest.)

Brasil
 He’s gone. Just… gone.

Delray
 Who was it? You looked… weird.

Brasil
 It was… the cab driver. The one sitting across the street.

Delray
 Why would he come to our door? Did he say anything?

Brasil
 No. Just knocked. Like he knew we were here.

(A heavy silence hangs in the air, thick with unease. Brasil paces the small hotel room, running a hand through her hair.)

Brasil
 This isn’t right, Delray. That guy following you… and now a random cabbie showing up at our door? It feels… wrong.

Delray
 Do you think they know each other? The creepy driver and the cabbie?

Brasil
 I don’t know, honey. But my gut is screaming at me. We need to be careful. Extra careful.

(Suddenly, a muffled but distinct voice drifts through the thin connecting door to the adjacent room.)

Arthur
 (A raspy, slightly shaky voice) 
Trouble next door, girls? Sounded a bit fraught.

(Brasil and Delray exchange surprised glances. Brasil cautiously approaches the connecting door and leans her ear against it.)

Brasil
 (Quietly) 
Did you hear us?

Arthur
Hard not to. Walls here are thinner than cheap coffee. Heard you talking about some fella following you. And another one knocking.

(Brasil hesitates for a moment, a mix of suspicion and a desperate need for information)

Brasil
(Through the door) 
Who are you?

Arthur
 Name’s Arthur. Been in this room a few days now. Just passing through. And I’ve seen a thing or two in my time. Enough to know when young folks are in a pickle.

Delray
 (Whispering to Brasil) 
Should we talk to him?

Brasil
 I don’t know, Delray… but I don’t like this feeling. We don’t know anyone here.

Arthur
Look, I’m not asking for your life story. Just offering an ear. Sometimes it helps to talk. Especially when you’re feeling cornered.

(Brasil considers this. They are alone, in a strange city, and the feeling of being watched is palpable. Arthur’s voice sounds… kind, if a little world-weary.)

Brasil
 (Through the door, a bit louder) 
You… you saw someone? Outside?

Arthur
Saw a beat-up old sedan parked across the street for a good while. Driver kept looking up at the hotel. Then, a taxi pulled up, driver went inside for a bit, came out, and then… well, then I heard the knocking.

Delray
 (To Brasil) 
He saw them both?

Brasil
 (To Arthur)
 Did you… did you see the driver of the sedan? What did he look like?

Arthur
 Slicked-back hair. Sharp suit. Unsettling look in his eyes. Like a wolf sizing up a lamb.

(Delray shivers, and Brasil’s suspicion solidifies. That’s the driver from the highway.)

Brasil
And the cab driver? Anything… unusual about him?

Arthur
Just looked like a regular cabbie. A bit… intense, maybe? Like he was on a mission.

Brasil
(Taking a deep breath) 
Arthur… we… we might be in a bit of trouble. This guy who followed Delray… he gave her a ride, and he was… not nice. And now he’s here. And that cabbie… it’s all connected somehow, I can feel it.

Arthur
Trouble finds young folks easy enough. You need help? Someone to… keep an eye out? I’m an old man, not much for fighting, but I’ve got good ears and I’m a light sleeper.

Delray
 (Looking at Brasil with pleading eyes) 
Can we trust him?

Brasil
 (Hesitantly) 
I don’t know, Delray. But… he heard everything. And he saw them. Maybe… maybe having another pair of eyes wouldn’t hurt. Arthur… are you sure about this? You don’t even know us.

Arthur
 Sometimes you just get a feeling about people. You two sound like you need a friend right now. And I’ve got nothing but time. Just knock if you need anything. Room 314. Right next door.

(Brasil looks at Delray, a flicker of hope mixed with apprehension in her eyes. They are still in the dark about who is watching them and why, but for the first time since arriving in Oakland, they have a potential ally, a voice in the darkness next door.)

Brasil
 (Softly, towards the connecting door) 
Thank you, Arthur. We… we might take you up on that.

Scene: Hotel Room - A Few Hours Later

(Delray and Brasil have been in their room for a while, trying to keep their nerves in check. They've heard the occasional car drive by, but the initial tension has eased slightly.)

Delray
(Whispering) 
It's been quiet for a while... maybe they gave up.

Brasil
 (Not so sure) 
Maybe. Or maybe they're just waiting for the perfect moment.

(Suddenly, there's a knock on the door. Both girls jump, their hearts pounding.)

Brasil
 (Whispering) 
Don't answer it!

Delray
 (Voice trembling) 
What if it's room service? Or something important?

Brasil
 We didn't order room service. And if it's important, they'll leave a note.

(The knocking persists, more insistent this time.)

Delray
 (Fidgeting) 
Maybe we should just... peek through the peephole.

Brasil
 (Reluctantly) 
Okay, but be quiet.

(Brasil cautiously approaches the door and looks through the peephole. Her eyes widen in surprise.)

Brasil
 (Whispering)
 It's the cab driver. He's back.

Delray
 Oh no...

Brasil
 (Taking a deep breath) 
Don't panic. We'll play it cool.

(She opens the door a crack, revealing the cab driver, looking slightly disheveled but determined.)

Cabbie
 (In a low voice) 
Sorry to bother you, but there's a package for you at the front desk. They wouldn't let me bring it up, said it's something personal.

(Brasil and Delray exchange a look of confusion and apprehension. A package sent directly to their room? This raises more questions.)

Brasil
 (To the cab driver) 
Thank you. We'll go get it.

(The cab driver nods and steps back, giving them a quick, almost apologetic glance before disappearing down the hallway.)

Delray
 (Closing the door and locking it) 
What's going on? Who's sending us packages?

Brasil
 I don't know, but it's definitely not a good sign. Let's go see what's in it.

(They walk to the front desk, where a young receptionist is sitting behind the counter.)

Receptionist
 (Seeing them) 
Ah, Ms. Miller and… Ms.?

Brasil
 Delray. There's a package for us, right?

Receptionist
 Yes, there is. A bit odd, it wasn't addressed to either of you by name, just 'occupants of room 312.' Want me to get it?

Brasil
 Please.

(The receptionist disappears into the back room. Brasil and Delray exchange nervous glances.)

Delray
 This is getting weirder and weirder.

Brasil
 Shh. Just wait.

(A few moments later, the receptionist returns with a medium-sized box wrapped in brown paper. She hands it to Brasil.)

Receptionist
 Here you go. No idea who it's from.

Brasil
 (Taking the box) 
Thank you.

(They take the box inside, a palpable sense of dread filling the room. Brasil carefully opens it. Inside, nestled on a bed of cheap tissue paper, is a single, chilling item: a photograph. It's a slightly blurry, dated picture of a young woman who bears a striking resemblance to a younger Brasil, her eyes wide with fear, her mouth slightly open as if she's about to scream. Across the photo, scrawled in what looks like dried blood, is a single word: "Soon.")

(Brasil gasps, her face paling. Delray stares at the photograph, her eyes wide with horror.)

Delray
 What… what is that? Who is that?

Brasil
 (Voice shaking) 
I… I don’t know. I… it looks… it looks a little like me… a long time ago…

(The chilling message sinks in. The surveillance, the creepy driver, the mysterious package – it all coalesces into a terrifying threat.)

Brasil
 We need help. Now. Arthur!

(Brasil rushes to the connecting door and pounds on it frantically.)

Brasil
 Arthur! Arthur, are you there?!

Arthur
Hold on, hold on! What in the Sam Hill is going on over there?!

(The connecting door opens, revealing Arthur looking concerned, his eyes sharp despite his age.)

Arthur
 What is it, girls? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.

(Brasil, her hands trembling, thrusts the photograph into Arthur’s hands.)

Brasil
 This… this was just delivered to our room. Do you… do you recognize her? Or that writing?

(Arthur takes the photograph, his brow furrowing as he examines it closely. His eyes scan the terrified face, then linger on the blood-red word. A look of grim recognition slowly spreads across his face. He takes a deep, steadying breath.)

Arthur
 (His voice losing its folksy tone, becoming sharper, more authoritative) 
Lord have mercy… I haven’t seen this kind of… handiwork in years. That… that’s a calling card. A nasty one.

Brasil
 You know what this is? Who… who would send something like this?

Arthur
 (His gaze hardening) 
I used to be a detective, girls. Back in Knoxville, Tennessee. Homicide. And I’ve seen things… things that would curdle your blood. This… this has the hallmarks of a very dangerous individual. Someone who likes to play games. Someone who likes to terrorize their victims before… well, before things get much, much worse.

Delray
 (Voice barely a whisper) 
Worse than this?

Arthur
 (His eyes meeting Delray’s, a hint of sadness in them) 
Much worse, child. That word… "Soon"... it's a promise. A threat. And the fact that this picture resembles you, Brasil… it means you’re the target. Or you were. Maybe both of you are now.

Brasil
 (Panic rising in her voice) 
But who? Why? I don’t understand…

Arthur
 (His gaze returning to the photograph, a distant, haunted look in his eyes) 
I can’t say for sure right now. But that… that style… it reminds me of a case I worked on a long time ago. A ghost from my past. A very bad ghost. And the fact that you mentioned a creepy fella following you… and a cab driver acting strange… it all fits together. You two are being watched. And whoever is behind this… they’re escalating things fast. You need to trust me on this. We need to figure out who is doing this, and we need to do it now. Your lives could depend on it.

INT. HOTEL ROOM - DAY

Brasil and Delray sit on the edge of the hard hotel beds, half-empty plates of room service food on the small table between them. The air is thick with unspoken worry. Delray nervously scrolls through her phone. Brasil picks at a croissant, her eyes darting towards the door.

Brasil
He's been gone a while. You think he found anything?

Delray
(Eyes glued to her phone, a tremor in her voice)
I don't know. I just… I wish we knew what was going on.

Suddenly, Delray gasps, her hand flying to her mouth. Brasil jumps.

Brasil
What? What is it?

Delray slowly lowers her phone, her eyes wide with fear. Brasil leans closer, peering at the screen. It's a photo of Delray, taken sometime recently, though she doesn't immediately recognize the background. Scrawled across the image in stark red letters are the words: "NOWHERE TO HIDE."

Brasil
(Whispering)
Oh my god… what is that?

Delray
(Shaking her head)
I… I don't know. I just saw it pop up. It wasn't there a minute ago.

The door to the hotel room opens and Arthur walks in, his expression grim. He runs a hand through his hair, looking stressed. He sees the look on the girls' faces and the phone in Delray's hand.

Arthur
What's wrong? You both look like you've seen another ghost.

Delray slowly holds up her phone, her finger pointing to the chilling message. Arthur steps closer, his eyes narrowing as he reads the red lettering. His already somber expression deepens.

Arthur
(Sighing heavily)
Damn it.

Brasil
What? What did you find out, Arthur? Was it him?

Arthur
The local PD has no record of a private investigator matching the description I gave, or any open investigations that would warrant that kind of surveillance.

Brasil
So… he’s operating completely off the books?

Arthur
Looks that way. Which makes him harder to track, and whoever hired him.

Delray
What do we do now?

The bustling street outside the import/export company offered a semblance of normalcy, a stark contrast to the fear that had clung to them since the photograph arrived. Brasil, despite her nerves about the "interview," felt a sliver of relief just being in a well-lit, public place. Delray stayed close, her eyes darting around, still wary of every passing car and face. Arthur, his demeanor a blend of concern and quiet authority, guided them with a subtle hand.

They entered a surprisingly modern office building. The reception area was sleek, with minimalist furniture and a large company logo on the wall. A well-dressed woman with a professional smile sat behind a polished desk.

Brasil
(A little uncertain)
Hi, I’m Brasil… I have an interview scheduled? For a receptionist position?

Receptionist
(Checking her computer)
Ah, yes, Ms.… Miller? Please have a seat. Someone will be with you shortly.

They sat down in the waiting area. The air felt different here – official, controlled. There was a quiet hum of activity, people in suits walking purposefully through glass doors. It didn't feel like the desperate, opportunistic energy of Palm Beach.

After a few minutes, a man in a dark suit, radiating an air of quiet intensity, approached them.

Agent Davies
Ms. Miller? My name is Agent Davies. If you’ll come with me.

Brasil exchanged a nervous glance with Delray and Arthur. Agent Davies led Brasil through a set of security doors and down a long corridor. Delray and Arthur were left in the waiting area.

A few minutes stretched into an eternity for Delray. Arthur, however, seemed less anxious, his gaze sharp as he subtly observed the other people in the lobby. Finally, Agent Davies returned, his expression serious.

Agent Davies
Ms. Miller has agreed to speak with us further. I need to have a brief word with you both.

Agent Davies
Mr…?

Arthur
Arthur. I’m… a friend.

Agent Davies
Right. Ms. Miller’s situation… it’s more complicated than a simple job interview. We’ve been monitoring a suspected human trafficking operation, and the company listed in the ad… it’s a front.

Delray gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. Arthur’s eyes narrowed.

Agent Davies
The individual known to us only as “the Driver” is a key player. His method is to lure vulnerable young women with promises of work and a better life. We believe the ad Ms. Miller responded to was one of his traps.

Delray
The creepy guy… the one who gave me a ride… that was him?

Agent Davies
We believe so. He fits the profile. He’s been on our radar for a while, but he’s slippery. He finds the girls, vets them, and then delivers them to the head of the operation. We haven’t been able to get close to the top man.

Arthur
(His voice low and steady)
And Brasil and Delray… they were his targets.

Agent Davies
Unfortunately, yes. We’ve been trying to infiltrate this network, and your arrival, Ms. Miller, coincided with our operation. We had hoped to gather more information through other means, but the Driver seems to have taken a particular interest in you both.

Suddenly, the pieces clicked into place for Delray. The unsettling questions, the unwanted advances… it all pointed to something far more sinister than just a creepy hitchhiker.

Delray
The picture… the message…

Agent Davies
We’re aware of it. The Driver is likely trying to intimidate you, to ensure you don’t run. He knows you’re in Oakland. This confirms our suspicions that he’s actively pursuing you.

Arthur
(Looking directly at Agent Davies)
These are real FBI agents? You’re not part of this… this trafficking ring?

Agent Davies looked genuinely offended. He pulled out his badge and ID, displaying them clearly.

Agent Davies
Agent Thomas Davies. Bureau of Investigation. This is a legitimate operation. Human trafficking is a serious federal crime, Mr. Arthur. We don’t take it lightly.

Arthur studied the credentials, his years as a detective allowing him to discern the genuine article. A wave of relief washed over him, mixed with a grim understanding of the danger they were truly in.

Arthur
(Nodding slowly)
Thank God.

Agent Davies
We understand you’ve both been through a terrifying experience. We want to offer you protection. We can provide safe housing and begin surveillance on the Driver and his associates immediately. This is your chance to get out of this, to help us dismantle this operation.

Brasil
(Entering the office, her face pale but resolute)
What do you need us to do?

Agent Davies turned to Brasil, his expression conveying both sympathy and determination.

Agent Davies
We need your cooperation. We need you to tell us everything you know, everything that happened. And we need you to trust us. We can help you both. This nightmare can end here.

The weight of their situation settled heavily in the small office. The "job interview" was a lifeline they hadn't expected, a chance to escape the clutches of something far more dangerous than they could have imagined. The fear was still there, but now, for the first time, there was also a glimmer of hope, a possibility of justice.

As for Johnny… the question hung in the air, unspoken but heavy with suspicion.

Agent Davies
Ms. Miller, you mentioned a “Johnny.” What can you tell us about him? His involvement with the Driver, if any?

Brasil’s face clouded with a mix of hurt and dawning realization.

Brasil
Johnny… he was my… he was supposed to leave Palm Beach with me. We had tickets to Oakland. He knew I answered this ad. He… he changed his mind at the last minute.

Delray
He knew you answered the ad?

Brasil
Yes… I told him. I thought we were starting a new life together.

Arthur
(His voice grim)
Did Johnny know about the Driver? Did he encourage you to answer that ad?

Brasil’s eyes widened in horror as the implications sank in. The sudden change of heart, the tickets to Oakland… it all pointed to a sickening possibility.

Brasil
(Her voice barely a whisper, tears welling in her eyes)
Oh God… did he…? Did he set me up? Did he sell us to that monster?

Agent Davies’ expression was grave.

Agent Davies
It’s a possibility we need to consider, Ms. Miller. We’ll look into Johnny. His sudden change of plans… it’s certainly suspicious. Right now, your safety is our paramount. We need to get you both to a secure location and begin our surveillance. The Driver won’t give up easily. You two are valuable to him.

The realization that Johnny, the man she had trusted, might have betrayed her for money sent a fresh wave of nausea through Brasil. The hope she had clung to for a new beginning shattered, replaced by the bitter taste of betrayal and the terrifying reality of the danger they had narrowly escaped. The FBI’s presence was a shield, but the knowledge of Johnny’s potential complicity cast a dark shadow over their newfound hope.

The drive to the safe house was tense and silent. Plainclothes officers in unmarked cars escorted them, a stark contrast to the anonymity they had craved just days before. The safe house itself was unassuming, a modest suburban home that blended seamlessly with its surroundings. Inside, however, the atmosphere was one of quiet vigilance. Several plainclothes officers moved with a calm efficiency, their presence a silent reassurance.

For the first time since fleeing Palm Beach, a fragile sense of safety began to take root within Brasil and Delray. The fear was still palpable, a knot in their stomachs, but it was now accompanied by the knowledge that they were not alone. These were people whose job it was to protect them, and their calm professionalism was a comforting anchor in the storm of their recent experiences.

Agent Davies gathered Brasil, Delray, and Arthur in a secure room. The windows were covered, and the air hummed with the low thrum of electronic equipment. Other agents moved in and out, their hushed conversations underscoring the seriousness of the situation.

Agent Davies
Alright. You’re safe here for now. We have officers positioned both inside and outside. No one will get to you without going through us.

He laid out a series of photographs on the table – blurry images of the Driver’s sedan, a few grainy shots of a man matching his description, and some surveillance stills of the import/export company.

Agent Davies
We’ve been building a case against this network for months. Your information, and your cooperation, could be the key to finally taking them down. We’ve been discussing the best course of action, considering your safety and the need to gather irrefutable evidence.

Another agent, Agent Miller (no relation to Brasil), spoke up. She had a direct, no-nonsense demeanor.

Agent Miller
We have a plan. It’s risky, but it offers the best chance of exposing the top players in this operation.

Brasil and Delray exchanged nervous glances. Arthur listened intently, his detective instincts on high alert.

Agent Davies
We need you to stop hiding. The Driver believes he has you scared, on the run. We need to exploit that. We need to let him think he can still get to you.

Delray
(Her voice trembling slightly)
You want us to… go back out there?

Agent Miller
Not without our protection. We’ll have surveillance teams on you at all times. You’ll have communication devices on you, and we’ll be ready to intervene instantly if necessary.

Agent Davies
The goal is to lure the Driver out into the open, to catch him in the act of trying to make contact with you again. We need to see who he reports to, who the real puppet masters are.

Brasil
So… we become bait?

Agent Miller
In a controlled environment, yes. We understand the fear this will cause, but staying hidden indefinitely won’t solve anything. They will keep looking. This way, we take the initiative.

Arthur
(His brow furrowed)
What exactly would they need to do?

Agent Davies
We need Brasil to continue with the pretense of being interested in the “job.” We’ll feed her information, things the Driver might expect to hear. Delray, your situation is more complicated since the Driver already made direct contact. We’ll need to be more strategic with you. Perhaps a carefully orchestrated “sighting” in a public place.

Agent Miller
We’ll need you both to act naturally, as much as possible. Don’t do anything that would obviously suggest you’re working with law enforcement. The Driver is likely cautious.

The weight of their request settled upon Brasil and Delray. The idea of intentionally putting themselves back in the Driver’s path was terrifying. But the alternative – living in constant fear, always looking over their shoulders – was equally bleak. The presence of the FBI agents, their calm assurance and detailed planning, offered a sense of security they hadn't felt before. They were still in danger, but now they had allies, a force fighting on their side.

Brasil
(Taking a deep breath)
What kind of contact are we talking about? Will I have to meet him alone?

Agent Davies
Absolutely not. We will be there, every step of the way, though you may not see us. You’ll have a wire, and we’ll be monitoring everything. The goal is to get him to reveal his connections, his methods.

Delray
(Looking at Brasil, a flicker of determination in her eyes)
If this is the only way to stop him… to stop them… then I’ll do it. I don’t want anyone else to go through what we did.

Arthur placed a reassuring hand on Delray’s shoulder.

Arthur
They know what they’re doing, girls. They wouldn’t put you in unnecessary danger. This is a calculated risk.

Agent Miller
We’ve considered all the pros and cons. The risk of doing nothing is far greater. This operation has been ongoing for too long. You two are our best chance to break it wide open.

The agents outlined the initial steps of the plan, detailing the communication devices, the surveillance teams, and the extraction protocols. They emphasized that their safety was paramount and that they would pull them out at the first sign of serious danger.

The fear remained, a cold undercurrent to their resolve. But now, it was tempered by a sense of purpose, a shared goal with the men and women who stood between them and the darkness that had been pursuing them. They were no longer just running; they were part of a counteroffensive, stepping into the light to expose the predators lurking in the shadows. The path ahead was fraught with peril, but for the first time, Brasil and Delray felt a flicker of genuine hope that this nightmare might actually come to an end.

Agent Davies leaned forward, a grim understanding in his eyes.

Agent Davies
The Driver has shown a pattern. He preys on vulnerability, on the hope of a better life. But underneath that facade, there's a base, predatory instinct. We need to tap into that.

Agent Miller nodded in agreement.

Agent Miller
California. Sunshine. Beaches. It’s a natural draw, especially for someone like him, looking for… fresh prospects. We can use that to our advantage.

The plan began to take shape, a calculated dance with danger set against the backdrop of a seemingly idyllic California day. The agents explained the details, their voices calm and professional, contrasting sharply with the inherent risk of the operation.

Agent Davies
We’ll set up a scenario. A seemingly casual trip to a popular beach. Brasil, you’ll be the primary focus. Your attire… it needs to be something that would catch his eye, something that fits the environment but also subtly plays on the image he seeks. Think attractive but not overtly provocative – the kind of look that would appeal to his predatory nature without making him overly suspicious.

Agent Miller
Delray, you’ll be with Brasil, acting like a younger friend. This reinforces the vulnerability he seeks. We’ll have surveillance teams strategically positioned, blending in with the beachgoers. You’ll both have discreet communication devices. If he makes a move, you signal us.

Brasil
(A knot of anxiety tightening in her stomach)
And what kind of move are we expecting?

Agent Davies
He’ll likely try to isolate one of you, offer a seemingly innocent conversation, perhaps try to lure you away from the public eye with a promise of something more private. That’s when we move in.

Delray
(Her voice surprisingly steady)
So, we act like we don’t know he’s watching?

Agent Miller
Exactly. Casual, enjoying the sun. The more natural you appear, the more likely he is to take the bait.

The agents detailed the fail-safes, the rapid response teams on standby, the escape routes planned in case of emergency. They reiterated that their priority was their safety, but they also emphasized the importance of their role in the operation.

Agent Davies
When we apprehend him, the charges will be significant: kidnapping, attempted trafficking, and likely more depending on what we uncover. Facing that kind of prison time, someone like him… they tend to look for a way out. Cooperation with the authorities, giving up the person at the top, becomes a very attractive option.

Agent Miller
He knows the risks he’s taking. He knows the penalties if he’s caught. The pressure of facing those consequences might be enough to break him.

The thought of confronting the Driver again was terrifying, but the idea that it could lead to the dismantling of the entire operation, to preventing other girls from suffering the same fate, gave Brasil and Delray a sliver of grim determination.

Brasil
(Looking at Delray, a newfound resolve in her eyes)
Okay. Let’s do it.

Delray
(Nodding firmly)
We can do this.

Arthur, who had been listening intently, spoke with a quiet intensity.

Arthur
You be careful, girls. Trust these agents. They know what they’re doing.

Agent Davies offered a reassuring smile.

Agent Davies
We won’t let anything happen to you. We’ll be there, every step of the way. This is how we end it. This is how we take them down.

The plan was set. The beautiful California sunshine, the carefree atmosphere of the beach – it would all be a carefully constructed stage for a dangerous but necessary confrontation. Brasil and Delray would step into the role of prey, knowing that this time, the hunters were waiting in the wings, ready to strike. The hope that the Driver, facing the stark reality of his impending prison sentence, would betray his boss and unravel the entire trafficking ring offered a powerful incentive, a light at the end of a very dark tunnel.

The California sun beat down on the crowded beach, the air filled with the sounds of crashing waves and laughing children. From a distance, partially obscured by a cluster of palm trees, the Driver watched Brasil and Delray. They looked exactly as he’d hoped – relaxed, enjoying the day, seemingly unaware of his presence. He smirked. They were perfect. The top man would be pleased. And Delray… he still had plans for her.

He adjusted the folded piece of official-looking paper in his pocket, a cheap but effective imitation of police credentials. His plan was simple: create a believable scenario, isolate Brasil, and then deal with the younger one later. He’d learned long ago that a little authority went a long way, especially with vulnerable runaways.

Taking a deep breath, he started his approach, weaving through the sunbathers and sandcastles. He kept his eyes fixed on their blanket, trying to appear casual, a concerned citizen perhaps.

As he reached their spot, Brasil was applying sunscreen to Delray’s back. He cleared his throat, adopting a stern, official tone.

Driver
Excuse me, ma’am? I’m Officer…     
(he glanced at his fake ID)
 …Jones, with Oakland PD. I need to speak with you.

Brasil turned, a look of mild annoyance on her face, which quickly turned to confusion as she took in his demeanor.

Brasil
Officer? What’s this about?

The Driver held up the fake credentials, flashing them quickly.

Driver
We’ve received a report of a runaway minor being harbored here. This young lady… (he gestured towards Delray) …is she with you?

Delray’s eyes widened in alarm. Brasil frowned, suspicion creeping into her expression.

Brasil
Harboring a minor? What are you talking about? She’s with me.

Driver
(Adopting an authoritative tone)
Ma’am, I’m going to need to see some identification. And I’m going to have to take the young lady into custody until we can verify her identity and living situation. There are procedures to follow.

He reached into his back pocket, pulling out a set of handcuffs. Brasil’s eyes widened in disbelief and dawning fear.

Brasil
Custody? What? She hasn’t done anything wrong!

Just as the Driver reached for Brasil’s wrist with the handcuffs, a chorus of firm voices cut through the beach noise.

Voice 1
Police! Don’t move!

Voice 2
FBI! Hands where we can see them!

Suddenly, the seemingly ordinary beachgoers around them sprang into action. Men and women in casual attire, who had been discreetly positioned nearby, converged on the Driver. He froze, his eyes wide with shock and dawning realization. He hadn’t seen them coming.

Before he could react, strong hands grabbed his arms, pulling them behind his back. The fake police credentials fluttered to the sand. The handcuffs he held clattered to the ground.

Driver
(Struggling)
Hey! What the hell is going on? I’m a police officer!

Agent Davies
(stepping forward, his badge clearly visible)
You’re under arrest for attempted kidnapping and conspiracy to commit human trafficking. You have the right to remain silent…

The Driver’s face paled as the reality of the situation crashed down on him. The carefully constructed facade of authority crumbled, replaced by a look of sheer panic. He glanced at Brasil and Delray, his eyes filled with a mixture of fury and terror.

As the FBI agents led the struggling Driver away, the beachgoers around them slowly returned to their activities, the brief disruption fading into the background. Brasil and Delray stared in stunned silence, the adrenaline coursing through their veins.

Agent Miller approached them, her expression a mixture of relief and grim satisfaction.

Agent Miller
He’s in custody. You’re both safe now.

The weight of the past few days, the fear and uncertainty, finally began to lift. They had been the bait, and the trap had sprung perfectly. The Driver was caught. And as the agents hauled him away, the realization dawned that his desperation to avoid a lengthy prison sentence for his heinous crimes might just be their ticket to finally reaching the man at the top. The nightmare wasn’t completely over, but for the first time, Brasil and Delray could see a clear path towards its end.

INT. FBI SAFE HOUSE - DAY

Brasil and Delray sit at a table, the remnants of a nervous breakfast in front of them. Agent Davies and Agent Miller stand opposite them, their expressions serious but hopeful. Arthur sits quietly nearby, his presence a steady comfort.

Agent Davies
The Driver has agreed to cooperate. Facing the charges against him, he sees no other way out. He’s willing to deliver the man at the top to us.

Brasil
(Her voice tight with apprehension)
Deliver us? We have to… go with him again?

Agent Miller
It’s the only way this works, Brasil. The top man is cautious. He doesn’t deal directly with anyone he doesn’t trust. The Driver bringing you personally is the key to getting us close to him.

Delray
(Looking at the agents, her eyes pleading)
But what if something goes wrong? What if he tries something?

Agent Davies
We won’t let that happen. We’ll have surveillance on the Driver every second. You’ll both be equipped with the latest audio and video feeds. We’ll know exactly what’s happening. And we’ll have a tactical team ready to move in at a moment’s notice.

Agent Miller
Think of it this way: this is the final step. This is how we dismantle the entire operation. You’ve already been incredibly brave. This last act… it will save countless others.

Arthur leans forward, his voice low and reassuring.

Arthur
They’re right, girls. It’s dangerous, but it’s controlled. And this time, you have an army behind you.

The agents continue to outline the plan, detailing the rendezvous point – a secluded warehouse on the outskirts of the city – and the intricate web of surveillance they will have in place.

Agent Davies
The Driver has made contact. He’s told his boss he has the “merchandise.” A delivery is scheduled for tonight.

Brasil
(A shiver runs down her spine)
Tonight?

Agent Miller
We need to act quickly while we have the opportunity. The longer this goes on, the greater the risk.

The agents explain their roles. Brasil will maintain contact with the Driver, acting as if she is still under his control. Delray will stay close, her presence reinforcing the “package” they are delivering.

Agent Davies
The moment the top man takes possession, or gives a direct order implicating himself in the trafficking operation, we move in.

A tense silence fills the room. The weight of the plan, the inherent danger, hangs heavy in the air.

Brasil
(Taking a shaky breath)
What if… what if the top man recognizes us? What if the Driver said something?

Agent Davies
We’ve considered that. The Driver is motivated to cooperate. His deal hinges on delivering us the top man cleanly. He won’t jeopardize that by revealing anything that could put him in further danger. As for the top man, he likely deals with a high volume of individuals. He may not remember every face.

Delray
(Looking at Brasil, her hand reaching out to squeeze hers)
We’ll do it. We’ll do whatever it takes.

Agent Davies
That’s the spirit. We’ll go over the communication protocols again. Remember your codewords. If anything feels wrong, anything at all, you use them. We will extract you immediately.

The agents run through the details one last time, ensuring Brasil and Delray understand every aspect of the operation. The sun begins to set outside, casting long shadows across the room, mirroring the darkness they are about to step back into, one last time, to bring the entire criminal enterprise crashing down.

INT. WAREHOUSE - NIGHT

The cavernous warehouse is dimly lit, the air thick with the smell of dust and disuse. The Driver stands nervously beside Brasil and Delray, his eyes darting around the shadows. They are positioned near a loading bay, the only source of significant light.

A large, expensive-looking sedan pulls up outside, its headlights cutting through the darkness. A figure emerges, tall and imposing, flanked by two burly men. This is the top man.

Boss
(His voice cold and authoritative)
So, Marco. You brought what you promised.

Driver
(Swallowing hard)
Yes, sir. Just like I said. The two new ones. Fresh off the bus. Untainted.

The top man’s gaze sweeps over Brasil and Delray, his eyes lingering on them with a calculating intensity.

Boss
They look… promising. The younger one has spirit. The other… she has a certain… quality. You did well, Marco.

Brasil
(Forcing a submissive tone)
Thank you, sir.

Delray remains silent, her eyes fixed on the top man, a mixture of fear and defiance in her gaze.

Boss
(To the Driver)
You know the terms, Marco. Your debt is cleared upon delivery. And a bonus… if they prove to be… satisfactory.

Driver
(Nodding eagerly)
Yes, sir. Understood, sir.

The Boss gestures to his men.

Boss
Take them inside. Let’s have a closer look.

As one of the burly men reaches for Brasil’s arm, a voice booms through the warehouse.

Voice
FBI! Everyone freeze!

Suddenly, the warehouse doors burst open, flooding the space with bright lights. Armed FBI agents swarm in, surrounding the top man and his crew.

Boss
(His face contorted in fury)
What the hell is this?! Marco! What have you done?!

The Driver shrinks back, his hands raised in surrender.

Driver
They… they got to me, boss. I had no choice.

The Boss' eyes lock onto Brasil and Delray, a look of pure rage and betrayal in them.

Boss
You! You set me up!

Just as the top man reaches inside his jacket, presumably for a weapon, the FBI agents converge on him, tackling him to the ground. The burly men flanking him are quickly subdued.

Agent Davies 
(entering the warehouse, his voice firm)
You are under arrest for human trafficking, conspiracy, and numerous other federal charges.
You have the right to remain silent...

The operation was a success. The top man was in custody. But amidst the chaos of the arrests, something went wrong. 

Delray is gone...

The warehouse, once buzzing with the controlled chaos of the takedown, fell into a stunned silence. Agents scrambled, radios crackled, and the realization washed over them in a cold wave: they had secured the head of the snake, but a vital piece of their victory had slipped through their fingers.

"Delray!" Brasil's cry echoed through the vast space, a raw sound of disbelief and terror. She lunged forward, but strong arms restrained her.

Brasil
Agent Davies, where is she? What happened?
Her voice was a frantic plea, her eyes wild with a fear that eclipsed even the horrors of the past few days.

Agent Davies' face was grim. 
Agent Davies
"We're working on it, Ms. Miller. He took her. We have units in pursuit, but... 
He didn't finish the sentence. The unspoken words hung heavy in the air: but he had a head start, and we don't know where he's going.

Agent Miller, her usual composure shaken, barked orders into her radio. "All units, code red! Suspect is armed and extremely dangerous. Vehicle is a black SUV, license plate..." She rattled off the numbers, her voice tight with urgency. "Delray, Female, early teens. Last seen wearing..."

The minutes that followed stretched into an eternity. Brasil, numb with shock and guilt, clung to Arthur, her body trembling. He held her, his own face a mask of grim determination. The warehouse, now a scene of frantic activity, offered no comfort, only the stark reality of their failure.

The Driver, subdued and cuffed, watched the unfolding drama with a chillingly detached expression. He knew. He knew what his associate was capable of, the desperation that fueled his actions. He knew Delray was now a pawn in a much larger, much more dangerous game.

Days turned into a week. The FBI manhunt intensified, but they found nothing. No trace of the SUV, no witnesses, no sign of Delray. The city, once a beacon of hope, now felt like a vast, indifferent maze, swallowing their last chance at redemption.

Brasil was consumed by guilt. She barely ate, barely slept, haunted by the image of Delray's terrified face in the warehouse lights. 

Brasil
It's my fault
she whispered, over and over again. 
If I hadn't… if we hadn't…

Arthur, his own heart heavy with worry, tried to offer comfort. 

Arthur
This isn't your fault, Brasil. These people are professionals. They planned for every contingency. We have to trust the FBI. They won't stop looking.

But trust was a fragile thing, shattered by the events of the past week. The faces of the agents, their increasingly strained reassurances, offered little solace against the gnawing fear that Delray was lost to them forever.

Then, the call came.

It was late at night. The phone in the safe house rang, its shrill tone cutting through the oppressive silence. Agent Davies answered, his face hardening as he listened. He spoke in clipped, professional tones, his eyes never leaving Brasil's.

Agent Davies
He wants to trade. 
his voice low and dangerous. 
He has Delray. He wants the top man.

A collective gasp filled the room. The audacity of the demand was breathtaking, a final, desperate gamble by a cornered animal.

He's insane.
her voice tight with fury. 
We can't negotiate with him. We have the top man. That's everything.

Agent Davies 
He's betting we won't risk the girl's life.
his gaze fixed on Brasil
And he's right.

The agents argued, their voices a mix of outrage and grim calculation. The risks were immense. Trading the top man would undermine everything they had worked for, potentially jeopardizing future investigations. But Delray's life hung in the balance.

The decision, ultimately, rested with them.

The exchange was set for the next night. A deserted stretch of highway, miles outside the city. The darkness, the isolation, the sheer desperation of the situation – it all felt like a twisted echo of their escape from Palm Beach.

The convoy was small and heavily armed. Agent Davies and Agent Miller led the operation, their faces grim and determined. Brasil and Arthur were in a separate vehicle, their presence a silent reminder of what was at stake.

As they approached the exchange point, the tension in the air was palpable. The headlights of the vehicles cut through the darkness, illuminating the desolate landscape. In the distance, they could see a lone figure standing beside a black SUV.

The top man was transferred. The seconds stretched into an eternity. Then, a figure emerged from the SUV, and the world held its breath. It was Delray. She was alive.

But as Delray stumbled towards them, another figure appeared behind her. His face contorted with rage and desperation, had a gun pressed to her head.

Man w Gun
One step closer, and she's dead!
 he screamed, his voice echoing in the night.

The agents froze, their weapons trained on him but useless. Any move would trigger the shot.

The standoff stretched on, a tense and agonizing stalemate. The fate of Delray, the culmination of their ordeal, hung in the balance.

Suddenly, a voice crackled over the police radio in Agent Davies' car. It was faint, distorted, but unmistakable.

Police Radio
Officer down… suspect in custody… female… secured…
 
And then, clear as a bell

Delray.
 I'm okay Brasil...

(pause)

I'm okay.