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NORTH
SEA OIL PROTESTORS -
S.1
OPENING
SCENE 1 >>>>
EXT. WESTMINSTER STREETS,
HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT, LONDON - DAY
The heart of London. Banners wave. Chants rise. DOZENS OF PROTESTORS, diverse and passionate, fill the street outside the HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT. Their message is clear: STOP NORTH SEA OIL POLLUTION.
Among them, REDAN SIMDO (30s), a law graduate, stands with MAX MOHUNE (20s), BARTRAM FOX (30s), ZERA MASKEN (20s), and ZINZI DIANA (20s). They are the core organizers, easily identifiable. Their placards are inoffensive, calling for TRANSPARENCY and an INQUIRY.
The atmosphere is initially vibrant, hopeful.
INT. PRIVATE WESTMINSTER OFFICE - DAY
A luxurious, wood-paneled office. LORD EVERINGTON (60s, sharp, ruthless oil magnate) leans forward over a mahogany desk. Across from him, NICK JOHNSON (40s, "The Devil") stands, arms crossed. CHIEF CONSTABLE HARRY HOLLAND (50s, "Dirty Harry") pours himself a whiskey.
LORD EVERINGTON
The protests gained traction. BBC journalists sniffing too close to the spill zones. We need them silenced.
JOHNSON
That’s where Harry comes in. He’s got riot squads primed to make it look like an uprising.
Dirty Harry swirls his drink, a dark glint in his eye.
DIRTY HARRY
Mass arrests. Framed charges. I’ll have them convicted before the ink dries on the press blackout.
LORD EVERINGTON
(Nodding)
Ensure the leaders disappear. No appeals. We cannot afford a scandal—not with drilling contracts at stake.
Johnson sets a file on the desk: classified photos of devastating oil spills.
JOHNSON
This? Buried. Just like them.
EXT. WESTMINSTER STREETS - CONTINUOUS
The air shifts. Sirens wail. The distant CRACKLE of megaphones.
RIOT VANS disgorge lines of POLICE OFFICERS in full gear: helmets with visors, clear shields, batons. They form a menacing phalanx, slowly advancing. Batons tap rhythmically against shields – a deliberate, chilling clack.
Chants waver, turning to panicked cries. Protesters scramble.
BBC and ITV NEWS VANS pull up, camera crews dismounting. They try to get closer.
Police officers, on a pre-arranged signal, forcefully BLOCK the journalists, turning them away. The reporters exchange knowing glances – they smell a rat.
Another POLICE TRUCK arrives, positioning itself for a clear view. A mast rises from its roof, carrying HI-DEFINITION CAMERAS. It's tasked with identifying the "ringleaders."
From the back of the truck, several PLAIN CLOTHES OFFICERS emerge. They begin to mingle, subtly infiltrating the edges of the protest, moving towards the main group. These are the "plants."
INSPECTOR SHAUN FLANAGAN (40s, stern, commanding) speaks into his radio.
INSPECTOR FLANAGAN
Sergeant Scotford, targets acquired in the front row of the crowd, confirm. Over.
SERGEANT GORDON SCOTFORD (30s, lean, efficient), leading a unit of FIFTEEN SPECIALIST ARRESTING OFFICERS, responds.
SERGEANT SCOTFORD
Got them Inspector, moving in with armed officers. Waiting for plants to strike. No media in evidence. Over.
Scotford's team weaves through the uniformed officers, their eyes fixed on photos on their phones.
The plain clothes plants, now embedded in the crowd near Redan, Max, Bartram, Zera, and Zinzi, begin their work. They start punching and kicking protestors around the identified five, stirring chaos.
A sudden, sharp blow lands between Redan's shoulder blades. He instinctively turns, raising an arm. A baton whips across his stomach from the front, knocking him backward.
The blue-clad swarm closes in. Hands grab Redan's throat, twist his arms behind his back. A boot connects with his shin, dropping him to his knees. HANDCUFFS SNAP shut.
He's lifted, feet dragging, and HURLED into a waiting police van like a sack of rubbish. The arresting officers immediately rejoin their unit.
SERGEANT SCOTFORD
Inspector, one down, going for Masken.
INSPECTOR FLANAGAN
Roger that Sergeant.
Max’s voice is tight, urgent, over the growing din.
MAX
Fox—this is a takedown. They’re picking us off one by one. They’ve got Red, and we are next. Protect the girls. We need a diversion—get Zinzi out!
Max and Bartram move towards Zinzi.
MAX
(Shouting to Zera)
Run for it, Zera, we’ve been targeted!
Zera, having seen Redan bundled away in disbelief, turns to flee into the crowd. A plain clothes officer, positioned directly behind her, punches her hard in the head. It stuns her, but doesn't stop her.
In a swift, almost practiced reflex, Zera strikes back – a punch to the throat, a kick to the groin. Her assailant drops.
Immediately, four arresting officers rush Zera from the front. The remaining eleven officers pile into Max and Bartram, who are desperately trying to shield Zinzi.
Zera is overwhelmed and cuffed. Max and Bartram, believing they'll just get a warning, allow themselves to be cuffed without a struggle. They watch helplessly as Zinzi is also cuffed and carried off, shock etched on her face.
They are all bundled into the same police riot truck with Zera.
Inside the rattling van, a moment of dark humor.
REDAN
Well, let’s hope the press got some of that police brutality.
ZERA
We were targets. They knew who we were. How is that possible?
MAX
(Trying to be optimistic)
Don’t worry. We were protesting peacefully. We’ll get a caution and be released.
The van drives on, their fate sealed.
INT. OLD BAILEY - COURT NO. 1 - DAY
The air is thick, formal. The vaulted grandeur of COURT NO. 1 feels oppressive.
JUDGE JOSEPHINE STAKER CEDRICKS (60s, severe, crimson-robed) sweeps in, her presence chilling.
At the bar, SERGEANT GORDON SCOTFORD (30s) and INSPECTOR SHAUN FLANAGAN (40s) stand like polished mannequins, starched and rehearsed.
Across the courtroom, the GALLERY pulses. Journalists scribble. NGOs look grim. The FAMILIES OF THE PROTESTORS (including Redan, Max, Zera, Zinzi, Bartram) are pale with disbelief, their hope worn thin.
The CROWN PROSECUTOR PADGETT
FRANCIS KC (50s, sharp, unyielding) unfolds a final witness statement, his voice razor-flat.
CROWN PROSECUTOR
The CCTV footage submitted from Westminster Abbey, A3212,
Houses of Parliament, clearly shows police officers pursuing the protestors, consistent with their report.
On a large monitor, the CCTV FOOTAGE flickers to life. Grainy. Stuttered. Flanagan and Scotford are visible, but the timing is off. Shadows don't match. There's a splice mid-movement. An amateur hack job.
No one in the courtroom, apart from the defense, seems to acknowledge it.
DEFENSE COUNSEL DALE
HENRIETTA JULIANAS (60s, sharp, determined) rises.
DEFENSE COUNSEL
My Lady, the evidence is tampered. We have expert forensic video analysts from the BBC prepared to testify. The footage contains visual discontinuities. Frame jumps. Gaps inconsistent with chain-of-custody logs.
Judge Cedricks doesn’t blink.
JUDGE CEDRICKS
The BBC’s opinions, however fashionable, are not admissible in this Court as technical authority.
A ripple of outrage stirs through the gallery, quickly stifled by ushers.
The Judge clears her throat, a theatrical gesture. She addresses the JURY.
JUDGE CEDRICKS
You must consider the bravery of the officers under scrutiny. To question their actions amid a climate of violent protest and environmental sabotage is to risk the integrity of law enforcement itself.
A single juror flinches.
JUDGE CEDRICKS
Whatever inconsistencies may appear, they do not override the sworn testimony of serving officers, and therefore, I direct you to find the defendants guilty beyond a reasonable doubt.
In the journalists’ corner, BBC ANCHOR JILL
BIRD (50s) whispers to her colleague.
BBC EDITOR
This is a show trial. They’re whitewashing a crime with the filth of another.
The courtroom buzz dims as Jill Bird stands again. She holds up a STILL FROM THE CCTV, her voice ringing with defiance.
DALE JULIANUS
This frame, Ladies and Gentlemen of the Jury—was timestamped 14:03. The original police statement? 13:52. Twelve missing minutes... Where were the defendants? What happened off-camera—off-the-record?
A beat of silence.
DALE JULIANUS
And why is this edit stitched together like propaganda from a failed state?
Judge Cedricks narrows her gaze over her glasses. Jill doesn’t flinch.
JUDGE CEDRICKS
(Barks)
Sustained. Counsel, this isn’t a cinema. Stick to the facts.
DALE JULIANUS
(Gritting teeth)
The fact, My Lady, is that we have officers of the law caught tampering with the very tools of truth. The only thing missing is popcorn.
Gasps ripple from the public gallery. Judge Cedricks SLAMS her gavel once.
JUDGE CEDRICKS
Order! I remind you, Counsel, sarcasm will not sway this jury—
The Judge is furious at having her authority challenged.
JUDGE CEDRICKS
I’m directing the Jury to return a GUILTY verdict.
DALE JULIANUS
No, but maybe the truth will. If these innocent protestors are convicted on doctored evidence and bloody knuckles—then let’s drop the façade and call this what it is: a conviction commission. Preordained. Sanitized. State-approved vengeance for speaking out.
Sergeant Scotford shifts uncomfortably. Inspector Flanagan avoids eye contact. A murmur from the press bench as BBC reporters scribble furiously. CHIEF CONSTABLE HARRY HOLLAND (50s), seated in the back, smiles inwardly. Another successful frame-up.
CROWN PROSECUTOR
(Sternly)
The Defense rests its case on the evidence of these fine officers. The footage was authenticated by our technicians—
A BBC CORRESPONDENT (30s, bold) calls out from the gallery.
BBC CORRESPONDENT
Whose technicians, exactly? Independent or internal? We’ve got metadata that doesn’t match chain logs!
Judge Cedricks glares.
JUDGE CEDRICKS
This is a court, not a marketplace. One more outburst and I’ll clear the gallery.
The jury exchanges uncertain glances. A single tear trails down the face of one of the protestors as hope begins to slip away.
INT. JUDGE’S CHAMBERS - EARLIER THAT DAY
The mahogany-paneled chamber is cloaked in dusk despite the morning sun. Judge Cedricks sits behind her desk. A crystal decanter of whisky untouched. She doesn’t look up as SIR MALCOLM CROWTHER (60s, greying, composed), Chairman of a Parliamentary Oversight Committee, enters. His eyes are sharper than his polished Oxfords.
CROWTHER
(Soft, deliberate)
Josephine. We can’t afford martyrs right now. The press are sniffing around like foxes at the coop door.
JUDGE CEDRICKS
The evidence is barely scaffolded, Malcolm. Even this lot can see it’s crumbling.
CROWTHER
That’s why we need you to mortar the gaps. Keep the lid on. The MOD audit’s weeks away—buy us time.
He slides a SEALED FILE across the desk. She doesn’t touch it.
CROWTHER
If you sink these protesters, we’ll endorse your appointment to the Privy Council. Dame Josephine has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?
JUDGE CEDRICKS
(Smoothly)
And if I refuse?
CROWTHER
You won’t.
A long silence. The kind that silences careers.
INT. OLD BAILEY - COURT NO. 1 - LATER AFTERNOON
The room is on edge. Dale Julianus leans towards her clients, whispering reassurance she no longer believes. A single bead of sweat clings to Sergeant Scotford’s brow.
The JURY files in. The FOREMAN (50s, grim-faced) rises.
BBC camera crews lean in. Flashbulbs crackle.
FOREMAN
In the case of the Crown versus the Terramentals, we find the defendants—
A beat.
FOREMAN
GUILTY.
Stunned silence. Then murmurs. Then a rising fury.
DALE JULIANUS
(Loudly, disbelieving, unable to contain herself)
How—how is that possible? The footage was doctored. The timeline—
Judge Cedricks cuts her off.
JUDGE CEDRICKS
This court has reached its decision. Take any grievances to the appropriate appellate body.
The BBC Correspondent interjects, almost gleeful.
BBC CORRESPONDENT
There is no appellate body, Judge. You saw to that last year.
Reporters swarm. Jill Bird slams her files shut. The protestors’ families cry out, anguish filling the air, as security rushes in to stifle dissent.
EXT. OLD BAILEY - DAY
Outside, Sir Malcolm Crowther walks calmly to his car, shielded by shadows and a waiting driver. His smile is chillingly satisfied.
INT. DALE JULIANUS’S CHAMBERS - LATE NIGHT
A thin pool of light washes across a cluttered desk strewn with transcripts and case files.
Dale Julianus sits hunched over, eyes sunken, nursing her third black coffee.
She scrolls through her inbox, mechanically—until something catches her eye.
SUBJECT: Judicial Privilege – Off-Record Meeting Minutes (Confidential)
FROM: Anonymous@MoDleaks.uk
Her breath catches. She opens the attachment: a blurry scan of a redacted memo. A parchment header bears the seal of the MINISTRY OF DEFENCE.
"Arrangements in place to ensure court proceedings conclude with minimal reputational damage to active service partnerships. J.S.C. to receive consideration for fast-track elevation pending compliance with directive."
DALE JULIANUS
(Mutters, eyes sharpening)
J.S.C.
She stands abruptly, heart pounding. A whisper of pure rage.
DALE JULIANUS
You stitched up my clients for a handshake and a seat in the Lords.
EXT. HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT - NEXT MORNING
A BBC LIVE BROADCAST. DIANA MERCER (40s, poised, intense) stands before the gothic spires, wind tugging at her overcoat. Crowds murmur behind the cordon. A rolling headline flashes on a screen:
RAW VIDEO FOOTAGE EXPOSES POLICE FABRICATION IN PROTESTOR TRIAL
EXT. HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT - (CONTINUOUS)
DIANA MERCER
This
is the scene of the crimes. This is Diana Mercer reporting for
the BBC live at the Houses of Parliament. Back now to Jill
Bird, to conclude our report. Jill.
JILL BIRD (BBC)
Thank you Diana. This morning, a bombshell. The BBC has obtained and independently authenticated raw, unedited footage from the day of the North Sea protest arrest—footage that directly contradicts the testimony of Sergeant Scotford and Inspector Shaun Flanagan, who claimed the protestors acted violently.
CUT TO: SIDE-BY-SIDE VIDEO. One frame shows the edited courtroom footage; the other, raw and timecoded, shows Redan Simdo being shoved to the ground without provocation.
MERCER (V.O.)
The unedited clips show peaceful demonstrators being assaulted, not resisting arrest. At least two camera angles were deliberately omitted from the evidence presented at trial.
Back to Diana on the steps, wind whipping her hair.
JILL BIRD
The Ministry of Defence and Judicial Office have declined immediate comment, but sources close to the case indicate that Judge Cedricks may have been under political pressure to secure a conviction. Whistleblowers allege a sealed memo promising her a place on the Privy Council in exchange for a guilty verdict.
A pause. Sirens wail faintly in the distance.
JILL BIRD
This is not just about corrupted evidence. This is about the corrosion of the very institutions sworn to uphold justice.
Allegedly, somewhere out there, five innocent protestors are locked up—for telling the truth.
She looks directly into the lens, her gaze unwavering.
JILL BIRD
If it is as alleged, Parliament must answer. The courts must be held accountable. And the public—will not forget.
INT. ELIZABETH SWANN - OPERATIONS BAY - DAY
The ELIZABETH SWANN slices through the steel-blue Atlantic, hydrogen-fueled propellers humming. Inside the sleek operations bay, the air is still, charged. Soft cyan light panels illuminate the space. The gentle holographic glow of HAL (A.I. Voice, calm, Oxford lilt) shimmers from the console.
JOHN STORM (40s, intense, all-weather jacket) stands at the helm, a mug of black coffee in his grip. The BBC logo dissolves on the central display, revealing Diana Mercer’s live transmission.
JILL BIRD (O.S.)
...raw footage obtained by the BBC clearly shows the accused protestors—Redan Simdo, Bartram Fox, Zera Masken and Zinzi Diana—offering no resistance to arrest. Yet Inspector Flanagan and Sergeant Shaun Scotford swore under oath their officers were assaulted by these individuals. Parliament has issued no statement.
The clip cuts to the side-by-side feed: raw and edited. John’s jaw tenses.
JOHN
Hal. Run a comparison scan between those two timelines. Frame-by-frame. Log any inconsistencies.
HAL
Already in process, Captain. Temporal misalignment detected: 14 instances of non-linear sequencing. Color-correction masking physical bruising on detained individuals. Timestamp metadata stripped. File origin shows signs of Departmental overwrite.
John lets out a low whistle.
JOHN
They cleaned it like a crime scene.
HAL
Captain, this manipulation exceeds standard disinformation protocols. The data inconsistencies alone would qualify as grounds for a mistrial in any impartial jurisdiction.
Storm folds his arms, watching the footage loop silently.
JOHN
That’s not a mistrial, Hal. That’s a rigged deck. And if they’re willing to bury peaceful protestors to cover up a spill, you can bet what’s lurking beneath that oil is a whole lot worse.
He pauses, eyes narrowing as the BBC feed continues:
JILL BIRD (O.S.)
...furthermore, whistleblowers suggest MOD contractors may have falsified containment logs. There are growing concerns about environmental fallout if North Sea rigs are compromised…
John turns to the console.
JOHN
Hal, archive this broadcast and the forensic breakdown you just ran. Secure file. Label it: ‘Precursor Events – Case Polaris.’
HAL
File encrypted and stored. Shall I inform the Oceanic Preservation Alliance?
John gives a slight nod.
JOHN
Not yet. But... I’ve a hunch they’ll come calling.
Outside, the waves break rhythmically against the hull, indifferent and infinite. But Storm knows the sea keeps its own secrets—and he’d just found the lock.
INT. NORTHEYE OPEN PRISON - CELL BLOCK - NIGHT
A stark, dimly lit cell. Redan, Zera, Max, Zinzi, and Bartram sit on the edges of their bunks. Bruised, beaten, but their eyes burn with a new fury.
They are joined by JORGES DICAPRIO (60s), a grizzled Cuban man, whose face bears the marks of hard living and injustice.
JORGES
(Slow, deliberate)
I’ve seen men locked away for less. You’re enemies of the state now. They won’t let you out.
Redan grinds his teeth.
REDAN
Then we break out. Expose every dirty deal they made to send us here.
Zera rubs her wrists, where red marks from the handcuffs are still visible.
ZERA
We need more than protests now. We need leverage.
Jorges leans forward, his voice a low whisper.
JORGES
You want revenge? I’ve built submarines for half the governments on this planet. If you can get me the materials, I can build something small, fast—something these idiots won’t see coming.
The group exchanges glances. A flicker of something, a nascent hope, ignites in their eyes.
BARTRAM
A sub? Just us? Against the North Sea oil giants?
Jorges chuckles darkly.
JORGES
Not just against them. Against their protectors. Oil spills were just the surface. You think these ministers don’t have nukes ready to cover their tracks?
Silence hangs heavy in the air. Then, Max stands.
MAX
We take their money. Their power. Their rigs.
Zinzi nods, her expression hardened.
ZINZI
And we don’t stop until the world knows.
REDAN
Then we sink their future—before they sink ours.
A shared resolve settles among them. The seed of a desperate, audacious plan has been planted.
SCENE
2 - PREDATOR >>>>
PROPOSED
SCRIPT ORDER (90-110 pages) - V1.0 DRAFT
SCREENPLAY
ACT
1.
SCENE
1. PROTESTS - Peaceful
North Sea oil pollution protestors are framed and imprisoned,
by a corrupt judicial system.
SCENE
2. PREDATOR - On release the
Terramentals
& smuggler Jorges
Dicaprio, complete a
mini-sub capable of sinking submarines.
SCENE
3. PHOENIX - Terramentals
locate & hijack HMS Neptune in Irish
Sea, Cumbria, using the Predator mini-sub -
knocking out the crew.
SCENE
4. BRITISH PETROLEUM -
Terramentals warn North Sea rig operators to stop. Claymore
rig is torpedoed, Royal
Navy respond.
SCENE
5. BBC WORLD SERVICE - Jill Bird
reports Terramentals rig attacks, world shocked at pollution
cover up. Charley Temple investigates.
SCENE
6. UNEP SOS - The
UNEP ask John Storm to survey North Sea for oil pollution.
Elizabeth Swann detects HMS Neptune radiation leaks.
SCENE
7. RADIATION ALERT - John
& Dan twig radiation from
HMS Neptune possible serious reactor damage. Must warn Terramentals.
ACT 2.
SCENE
8. STEALTH MODE - Storm spots Astute sub, Swann
in stealth
mode, detected as John warns extremists of sub
radiation leakage.
SCENE
9. CHANGE OF COURSE -
Terramentals change course, heading for the
Straits of Gibraltar. Not believing radiation warning.
SCENE
10. U-BOAT 986 - Evading Swann, HMS Neptune navigates
off transport lanes. Swann picks up magnetic signature of U-Boat
986.
SCENE
11. SENATE, UK & EU DEBATE -
Sub
hijacking & rig destruction, alarm bells around world. Deepwater
Horizon shivers down
spines.
SCENE
12. REACTOR LEAK - Terramentals realise John
telling truth, as radiation rector damage detection system HMS Neptune triggers.
SCENE
13. RESCUE TOW - John rescues
Terramentals. MI6 order Neptune
sinking. MOD knew reactor dangerous, want evidence gone.
SCENE
14. LISBON PORT -
Terramentals & Storm, shut Neptune's reactor. Tow, stricken submarine
to Lisbon, prevent MI6 sinking evidence.
ACT
3.
SCENE
15. ROV ATLANTIS - Swann returns U-Boat stealth mode at night,
to avoid tracking. Surveys site,
discovers Atlantis & Nazi gold.
SCENE
16. TREASURE TROVE - John reveals gold find &
threatened. US Linc Truman support. PM, Ed
Thomas, &
Sealord, royal
support.
SCENE
17. BLUE SHIELD - Cleopatra
alerts Blue Shield, Newcastle
University, potential Atlantis find, suggests UNESCO
world heritage site.
SCENE
18. GOLDEN OFFER - Claimants
reward John U-Boat gold find. Agrees 1% cover costs 9% to Blue Shield surveys.
UNESCO grateful.
SCENE
19. GREEN MOBILITY - Galvanized
to action UK hit green H2 button, John gets grants low
income families, Jill
Bird, news item.
SCENE
20. IMO IS GO - The International Maritime
Org green
H2 & methanol,
certification. USA in. China India stay with coal,
gas
& oil.
SCENE
21. AMNESTY INTERNATIONAL - John & George
amnesty, pirate
caselaw & video proof set up. Harry & Johnson
charged treason.
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