Origins

OUTLINE

The body of a Russian Archaeologist is found floating in the Caspian Sea.

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VOLGA DELTA, ASTRAKHAN OBLAST, RUSSIA

A fishing boat sails up the Volga Delta at dawn when the crew notices a body floating in the water. A fisherman pulls the body towards the boat with a pole and flips it face up. The body is bloated an disfigured. The Captain kneels down and extends his hand to reach the body's jacket.

-Closer. Hold it there... Shit...

The Captain lets go of the body and catches his breath.

-I can't take the smell. Okay, bring it closer.

The fisherman squeezes the body against the boat.

-Why don't we just tow it to the port.

The Captain holds his breath and reaches the inside pocket of the body's jacket. He pulls a zippered wallet and opens it.

-VASILY DMITRIEV...

He sorts through number of other ID cards and pulls several thousand ruble notes.

-Let it go.

The fisherman looks at the Captain in disbelief.

-What do you mean? We can't leave it here to rot.

-We have a nearly one ton sturgeon carrying at least ten kilos of eggs aboard. You wanna trade for this dead man and go to jail. Let him go, there's nothing we can do for him.

RECTOR'S OFFICE, ASTRAKHAN STATE UNIVERSITY

The Rector is in a meeting with the Dean of the Department of Archeology and two other professors.

-I'm getting pressures from the Atomenergoprom's people to pull all our stuff from the site so that they could start digging next week.

A professor intervenes.

-It's not even been a month. We have to give him a chance. He could be abroad. Who knows what he found.

-You know that these searches were not authorized to starts with, claims the Dean.

-What do you mean not authorized! It only involves Vasily and five of his graduate students. It's not as if they were draining the University's budget, replies the other professor.

-Seven days. That's all I can do. Figure it out by then, saids the Rector before standing up, signaling the end of the meeting.

SAMOSDELKA EXCAVATION SITE, ASTRAKHAN OBLAST

A female graduate students is being helped by her brother to gather tools and objects from the excavation site. The brother looks towards the banks of the Volga.

-Why the fuck would they want to build a nuclear plant here, in the middle of nowhere! Doesn't make sense.

-Don't know, replies the female student, He never mentioned anything about this.

-That's weird. Was he from Moscow?.

-Yes, that's what he saids. Though I don't know if he was in contact with anyone else apart from us.

-Did you look in his office.

-No. I don't have the key.

-Well...

PROFESSOR VASILY DMITRIEV'S OFFICE, ASTRAKHAN SATE UNIVERSITY

The student and her brother open the door to the professor's office to find piles of articles, books, and ancient Khazarian artifacts. The brother grabs a stone on which a Star of David if engraved.

-He worked in the Middle East.

-No, we found this at the site, like two years ago?

The brother looks at his sister...

CAPE CHERSONES AIRFIELD, SEVASTOPOL CITY

Najwa and Evgeniy turn their car around as they reach the end of the runaway and stop the engine. Evgeniy pops a cigarette out of his pack and offers one to Najwa who answers in Russian.

-No thanks.

-Sorry... I didn't know...

-It doesn't bother me. I just don't smoke.

Evgeniy hesitates, then looks at Najwa.

-Are you allowed to smoke?

-What do you mean?

-I mean, because of this, pointing to her hijab.

-Of course. It's got nothing to do with it. I just never started.

Najwa's phone beeps. She checks the SMS.

-10NM S

She shows the phone to Evgeny who turn on the head beams.

-10 Nautical Miles South. They should be here in 2 minutes.

Najwa smiles anxiously and steps out of the car leaving the door open. A light breeze from the sea blows her hijab to the side as she holds it in place. Evgeniy starts flashing the car's head beams.

COCKPIT, EPIC VICTORY JET, OVER THE BLACK SEA

Alexander points to the flashing lights as the pilot watches a night vision monitor displaying the landing strip ahead.

-You want to go over once?

-No...Too many eyes on us in the area. It'll look suspicious. I'll drop you in the middle of the runaway and take off right away. No one will notice we even stopped.

The pilot stops talking to concentrate on his instruments as he lands the 4 seater plane in the pitch back night.

CAPE CHERSONES AIRFIELD, SEVASTOPOL CITY

Alexander unbuckles his belt, pads the pilot on the shoulder, grabs his backpack and exits through a side door behind the pilot.

-See you very soon.

The plane's engine roars back at full steam as Alexanders shuts the door, remaining in the middle of the strip as the plane takes off again.

A few hundred meters further, Najwa's bends as she hears the jet taking off right over her head. She starts walking towards the middle of the runaway. Evgeniy shuts the car's head beams leaving the airfield pitch black.

-Alexander... Alexander... Najwa utters as she continues walking in the dark.

She suddenly feels a hand gently grabbing her from the side.

-My little Matryoshka.

Alexander passes his hand under Najwa's hijab and starts kissing her passionately until Evgeniy stops the car besides them.

-Lieutenant!

Alexander peeps inside the car and discovers Evgeniy's face as he puffs on a cigarette.

-Starshina!

-No, no... Captain, replies Evgeniy with a grin. Hop in.

Alexander opens the back door to let Najwa in then sits in front as the car disappears into the Crimean night.

ROOFTOP, ALEXANDER'S APARTMENT, LENIN RAION, SEVASTOPOL

Najwa slides the door opens leading Alexander and Evgeniy to the rooftop overlooking the port. She undoes her hijab revealing her dark blond hair. Alexander turns to Evgeniy.

-Wow. Feels good to be home. Evgeniy... Thank you.

-The boat sails by, the shore remains...

-Indeed.

Najwa interjects.

-What can I serve you guys? I noticed we have vodka in the freezer.

Evgeniy smiles as Alexander continues.

-Najwa follows a particular branch of Islam. Seems to follow the wind currents. A naturalistic approach...

-Lovely wife Sasha.

-Thank you. We're not married... yet. What about you?

-Yes... Many years ago. Two daughters. 13 and 12.

-Wow. Trouble at sea, saids Najwa as she pours three shots on the rooftop table.

-Na Zdorovie.

-Na Zdorovie.

The two men raise their glasses to Najwa as Evgeniy continues.

-To women of the Earth.

Najwa smiles at both men.

-Wise words for seamen.

Alexander gently pulls Najwa by her waist.

-Evgeniy and I visited many foreign ports together.

-You're husband... I mean Sasha is very modest. If it wasn't for him. I wouldn't be here today.

-I had to pull him out of trouble when he was like nineteen... twenty max.

-Eighteen...

-Luanda, Christmas 1989 replies Alexander as he pours another set of shots. Lets say that for an eighteen year old rusky boy straight out of his mommy's home, Angola was like Sodom and Gomorrah.

-To African woman! Concludes Evgeniy before continuing on another subject. I have arranged for your pilot to stay at a hotel by Belbek Airport. Although the touch and go was quite effective, we still have some pretty paranoid comrades around. Better not to communicate with him during your stay. He's could be trailed.

-FSB? Asks Alexander.

-No, GRU. We're "abroad"! Sevastopol has become the Prague of the new era. Besides the Ukrainians and our boys, every agency on earth has a man in this city. Just last month we nailed three Israelis with forged Russian passports leaving port on a sailboat. We tracked them via satellite as they were trailing a group of archaeologists digging on a future nuclear plant site near Astrakhan. We let them go so that Tel Aviv would hold on to some intel they had about our operatives in Kiev.

-New era but same old game, replies Alexander.

-Archaeologists? asks Najwa.

-Yes. Don't ask why. Only their own God understands these Jews.

....

....

BEDROOM, ALEXANDER'S APARTMENT, LENIN RAION, SEVASTOPOL

ASTRAKHAN UNIVERSITY PROFESSOR VANISHES.

Najwa reads the online version of Pravda.

VASILY DMITRIEV, A PROFESSOR AT THE ASTRAKHAN STATE UNIVERSITY HAS BEEN REPORTED MISSING BY HIS GRADUATE STUDENTS LAST WEEK. DMITRIEV FAILED TO REPORT AT AN EXCAVATION SITE WHERE HE HAD LEAD A GROUP OF ARCHAEOLOGISTS FOR NEARLY TEN YEARS... THE TWO GRADUATE STUDENTS INTERVIEWED WERE NOT AWARE OF ANY ABNORMAL CIRCUMSTANCES OR BEHAVIOR THAT COULD HAVE LEAD TO THEIR PROFESSOR'S DISAPPEARANCE. HE WAS KNOW TO BE QUIET AND DEVOTED TO HIS WORK... THE ARCHAEOLOGICAL TEAM CLAIMED THAT THEY HAD RECENTLY DISCOVERED THE REMAINS OF ATIL, THE ANCIENT CAPITAL OF THE KHAZAR KINGDOM, A TURKIC TRIBE WHICH IS BELIEVED TO HAVE ADOPTED JUDAISM IN THE TENTH CENTURY BEFORE DISAPPEARING FROM THE REGION... STATE OFFICIALS HAVE CONFIRMED THAT THE AREA HAS BEEN ACQUIRED BY THE FEDERAL GOVERNMENT FOR THE PURPOSE OF BUILDING A NUCLEAR POWER PLANT.

Alexander enters the room and walks towards Najwa who's reading in bed.

-He left? ask Najwa, surprised.

-Yes, he saids goodbye. He didn't know if you were sleeping.

-Oh... Nice man... Did you know that the leading professor in that group of archaeologist that your friend Evgneniy was mentioning has disappeared!

-No... How do you know? What about it?

-Well, I was just procrastinating online, instead of writing, as usual... I was curious to know why Mossad would be interested in trailing some archaeologists until I realized they were there for the nuclear plant... So close to Azerbaijan, and Iran... Still, weird coincidence that this man disappeared right when they were there.

-There is no such thing as a coincidence in this world, there is only the inevitable. Besides, I don't see why the Israelis would be interested in a nuclear plant in Russia. No offense to your people my love, but if the people of Stalingrad stopped the German army, I don't think there going to let some Arabs invade them. Besides, there is the Caucasus.

-You always come up with military strategies.

-Well...

-Besides, there are no Arabs in that region...

-You know what I mean.

Alexander lies down to kiss Najwa.

-My little Ishtar...

-You Nordic pirate...

They make love.

ROOFTOP, ALEXANDER'S APARTMENT, LENIN RAION, SEVASTOPOL, MORNING

Najwa is reading on her iPad as the rising sun illuminates the masts of a docked Russian Navy carrier.

-Did you know that the people living in that area converted to Judaism and that's what this archaeologist was demonstrating.

-You're still on his case...

-Remember that man on the train to Venice?

-Of course.

-He was Mossad, no?

-Probably, why?

-You're still in contact with him.

-Of course not.

-Didn't you tell me he was after this Swiss girl who was on your case.

-Carla Xanthis, yes. But we resolved that issue.

-Just thinking about these Mossad guys roaming around the world, conducting targeted assassinations for no apparent reasons.

-They brought this chess game to another dimension.

-They don't have a king!

-Nor do they have a kingdom!

-Who does...

-Checkmate!

-Shāh Māt...

DEPARTMENT OF ARCHEOLOGY, ASTRAKHAN STATE UNIVERSITY

The university's internal mail delivery service delivers a thick envelope in the professor's slot.

The female graduate student picks it up...

A note is attached to his wallet...

I FOUND THIS ON A BODY FLOATING IN THE RIVER ABOUT 2 KM FROM THE SEA. COULDN'T CARRY IT BACK TO PORT. SORRY FOR YOUR LOSS.

SOMEWHERE IN THE WORLD

Alexander is watching RT news on his laptop. He stumbled upon a video report about Vasily Dmitriev.

TITLE: MISSING ARCHAEOLOGIST PRESUMED DEAD.

-THE WALLET BELONGING TO ASTRAKHAN STATE UNIVERSITY PROFESSOR VASILY DMITRIEV WAS MAILED TO HIS OFFICE BY AN ANONYMOUS SENDER ALONG WITH AN UNSIGNED NOTE CLAIMING THAT IT HAD BEEN FOUND ON A LIFELESS BODY FLOATING ON THE VOLGA EARLIER THIS MONTH... YAMA ZRUDLO, A ARCHEOLOGY GRADUATE STUDENT WORKING WITH PROFESSOR DMITRIEV SAIDS SHE WAS IS... BY THE DRAMATIC UNFOLDING OF EVENTS AND THE MYSTERY SURROUNDING THE AFFAIR. THE ARCHAEOLOGICAL SITE WHERE THE PROFESSOR AND HIS TEAM HAD BEEN DIGGING FOR NEARLY TEN YEARS IS PART OF A LOT WHICH HAS BEEN ACQUIRED BY THE RUSSIAN NUCLEAR AGENCY ATOMENERGOPROM FOR THE PURPOSE OF BUILDING A FUTURE POWER PLANT. NO COMMENTS WERE ISSUED BY THE UNIVERSITY OR ATOMENERGOPROM.

Alexander forwards the link to Najwa...

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