INT. BOARDROOM – NIGHT
SIR ROBERTS paces in front of the long table. Seated on one side is MARTIN and THOMAS. Across from them sits GLORIA.
MARTIN: Are you ever going to tell us why we’re here after hours?
Sir Roberts holds up his hand. They all listen. The SOUND of foot steps hurrying along the hall enters the room. Sir Roberts walks over to the door and swings it open.
HUNTER runs inside. He’s younger than the rest, and his suit is in disarray. He stops and glances around the room. Furrowing his brow, he looks to the head of the table.
HUNTER: Has Sir Roberts not arrived yet?
Sir Roberts swings the door closed. Hunter jumps and turns to him.
SIR ROBERTS: I’m glad we could all make it.
Sir Roberts walks around to the head of the table. He motions Hunter to sit. Hunter darts over to the seat beside Gloria and sits.
SIR ROBERTS (CONT’D): Tonight I’ve gathered you all here to discuss a very simple matter.
He glances around the table, looking each in the eye.
SIR ROBERTS (CONT’D): My death.
Gloria rolls her eyes. Thomas strokes his beard. Hunter glances around the room.
MARTIN: Are we really doing this?
He props his head up with his hand and stares past Sir Roberts.
MARTIN (CONT’D): Again?
Sir Roberts takes his seat. He tosses a couple of documents down the table. Gloria picks one up and looks it over. The other slides to Martin. He snorts, brushing it away. Picking it up, Hunter looks it over. He looks up to Sir Roberts.
HUNTER: You monitor our emails?
Thomas chuckles and holds a hand out to calm Hunter.
THOMAS: Just the underling’s emails.
GLORIA: We’re all Sir Roberts’ underlings.
She glances over the document to Sir Roberts. Sir roberts shrugs as the rest of the board members look to him.
MARTIN: This is getting out of hand.
MARTIN (CONT’D): Either this insanity ends, or you can accept this as my resignation.
Sir Roberts holds up his hands.
SIR ROBERTS: I must confess to withholding some information. I had hoped to spare some of us embarrassment, but if you insist, here.
He slides another document across. Everyone reaches for it, but Gloria gets it first. She looks it over then glances to Martin.
GLORIA: You’re an idiot.
She drops the document, and Martin snatches it up. Thomas stares up at him. Martin glances at it. Tossing it to the floor, he walks over to a side table with a coffee maker on it. He pours himself a drink and turns to them.
MARTIN: It doesn’t prove anything. It was a joke. A bit of nonsensical banter.
Thomas picks up the document and looks it over. He pales.
SIR ROBERTS: I suppose I may have taken your murder plot out of context.
Martin sips his coffee.
MARTIN: Of course you did. You’re a paranoid, old coot.
Sir Roberts turns to Thomas.
SIR ROBERTS: Do you agree?
THOMAS: Yes. Well, save the old coot part.
Gloria drops her hands to the table.
GLORIA: As much fun as this is, I’d like to go home and sleep. You have your culprits. Let Hunter and me go home.
SIR ROBERTS: You’d like that. Wouldn’t you? Did you have the room rigged with explosives? Or maybe just the table.
He checks under the table but doesn’t see anything.
SIR ROBERTS (CONT’D): Never mind. No one leaves till I figure out which of you wants my chair. Then I can figure out who should stay and who should go.
Martin finishes his coffee, crushes the cup, and drops it into the garbage can. He raises his hand.
MARTIN: I vote I go.
SIR ROBERTS: Very well.
He lifts a pistol and shoots Martin. Martin flies back and lands face down onto the coffee maker.His body slides of the table, taking the coffee maker with it. Coffee spills across the floor.
SIR ROBERTS (CONT’D): Damn. I just made that pot.
He turns to everyone else in the room. They duck as his pistol passes over them. He looks down at it and shrugs, returning it to his pocket.
SIR ROBERTS (CONT’D): Anyone want a fresh pot of coffee made up?
No one answers.
SIR ROBERTS (CONT’D): Well, I’d like one. Hunter, would you be so kind as to make up another?
Hunter lifts himself from his seat and walks over to Martin’s body. He crouches down and reaches for the coffee maker. Glancing at Martin’s face, he sees the eyes staring at the ceiling.
SIR ROBERTS (CONT’D): Hurry up. We don’t have all night.
Martin picks up the coffee maker and exits the room. Sir Roberts turns to Gloria and Thomas.
SIR ROBERTS (CONT’D): Some of us have even less time than the others.
INT. KITCHEN – CONTINUOUS
Hunter steps inside the kitchen. He walks over to the sink and begins to fill the coffee pot.
BANG! BANG! Hunter freezes at the sound of the gunshots. The coffee pot falls from his hand and smashes in the bottom of the sink.
The door opens behind him. Hunter whirls around as Sir Roberts enters.
SIR ROBERTS: Thank you for forwarding those emails to me, kid.
He holds his arms out and steps closer. He stops, his eyes widening. He glances down at his stomach. A knife handle protrudes from his belly.
He looks into Hunter’s eyes. Hunter steps forward, pulling the knife out. He stabs Sir Roberts again as he brings his face beside Sir Robert’s ear.
HUNTER: You’re a fool as well as paranoid.
He pulls the knife out.
HUNTER (CONT’D): A deadly combination.
Sir Roberts falls to the ground as Hunter makes a phone call.
HUNTER (CONT’D): Come quick. Something horrible has happened.
FADE TO BLACK.