"V FOR VENDETTA" (2006)

Written by

Larry and Andy Wachowski

Based on the graphic novel by Alan Moore

Shooting Script, 2004

FADE IN:

In the darkness, we hear a voice, a woman's voice. Her name is Evey.

Her voice has a strength that is metered by a calmness, a deep centered peace that we can feel.

In the darkness, we find a lantern. Guy Fawkes, a dangerous man who wears a goatee, is struggling with a wheelbarrow stacked with barrels of gunpowder.

The wheelbarrow bumps over the heavy stone mortar of the cellar floor. From the dark depths, we hear the sound of dogs.

Guy sees lanterns coming from both sides. He tries to run as the dogs reach him first. He grabs for his sword as dozens of pole axes pin him against the tunnel's stone wall.

In the dim pre-dawn light, Guy is led to the gallows.

The coarse noose of rope is snugged up to Guy's throat. He looks into the crowd until he finds a face, a woman's face, staring up at him.

The lever is thrown and the woman looks down, a tear falling down her face.

Guy's body hangs in silhouette, lifeless against a red morning sun.

FADE OUT:

FADE IN:

A young Evey sits on her father's lap, combing her Barbie's hair.

Her father sits beside her mother on the living room couch, watching the news. From the look on their faces, the news is bad.

The television flickers with images of heavily armed soldiers fighting in a shelled city.

Little Evey sees her father staring at her mother. They take hold of each other's hand, clasping them tight.

It is a new day. People are gathered along the street as if they were waiting for a parade.

Evey holds her father's hand. Unable to see what is coming, she can hear it.

We hear them, hundreds of marching soldiers.

Little Evey hides in the forest of adults, clinging to her father's leg, staring as row after row of boots march by with military precision.

In the midst of a political rally for the emerging new party calling itself Norsefire, we find little Evey now on her father's shoulders.

Dascombe, a young man, paces the podium, inciting the crowd.

Adam Susan rises and the crowd cheers. Evey's father looks at her mother and again they clasp hands.

Little Evey is asleep in her bedroom.

A loud crash of splintering wood wakes her up.

The sound of heavy boots swarms through the house.

Her bedroom door bursts open and a heavily armed soldier scoops her up.

She is carried through the dark house which is filled with soldiers. On the floor of the living room, she sees her parents being bound with plastic zip-ties.

A heavy black hood is pulled over each of her parent's heads as Evey is carried out of the house.

A nun with a switch in her crossed arms watches as Evey and several other little girls scrub the floor of a dormitory bathroom.

A tear rolls down Little Evey's cheek.

A gay man is dragged violently from his Piccadilly home. Outside, he sees his lover being forced to the cobblestones.

He reaches for him as the clubs rise and fall, vicious and bloody.

In another neighborhood, we see the police arresting Pakistanis.

In a different area, young black men are packed into a caged van so tightly they are unable to move.

A young detective named Finch looks down as the van pulls away. When he looks up, another man in a military uniform whose name is Almond is watching him.

Finch sticks his pipe in his mouth and turns away.

Again, we see the marching boots.

We move through the columns of marching soldiers to a wall where a poster has been plastered up. The poster reads, "Strength Through Purity, Purity Through Faith."

As the sound of the marching fades, a shadow falls over the sign.

After a moment, we hear the hiss of spray paint.

The shadow sprays a "V" over the poster.

FADE OUT:

FADE IN:

Close on a loudspeaker. There is one on every major street corner.

Beneath the loudspeaker is a surveillance system labeled, "For your protection."

Bubble eyed lenses iris at the end of stalks that move, insect- like, racheting and clicking as they watch a little girl pedal her bicycle. The little girl glances nervously over her shoulder up at the mechanical eyes watching her.

There is a radio on a small makeup table.

Evey is now a young woman. She slips into a dress that is little more than a nightgown. She tries to adjust it, pulling it down at the hem, pulling it up at the thin shoulder straps, but it is like trying to hide behind a lamppost.

Another radio in a room that seems to be of another world.

A man enters the room as he once entered the world. His body is lean and strong and though we do not see his face, there is a strength in his carriage, a power to his presence.

She packs tissue paper into the toes of a pair of high heels that are too big for her.

We move over a dressing bureau, past a wig and over a pair of black leather gloves, moving until we find the mask; it is like something from the masquerade ball of another era. It has an exaggerated goatee, harlequin cheeks and a smile, forever fixed, at once be-guiling and be-deviling.

Evey coats her lips with a lascivious red. She stares into the mirror, her makeup like a mask over her own face.

The man, now fully dressed in cloak, hat, and mask gazes into the mirror.

This is V.

Close on Evey's high heels, stumbling and awkward as she walks down a dark cobblestoned street.

Close on V's boots walking in the opposite direction so that it seems they are walking towards each other.

Evey looks up and sees a man standing mostly in shadow.

The man turns around. It is not V.

He smiles.

She presses her body to his, using her little girl eyes and her woman's mouth.

He pulls out his wallet and shows her a badge. The sight of it knocks the breath out of her.

Evey turns and there are more Fingermen behind her.

The Fingermen laugh.

Fingerman 2 laughs hard as he drops his pants.

He shoves her face first against a brick wall, lifting her dress to expose her bottom.

Suddenly, they are no longer alone.

V "The multiplying villainies of nature do swarm upon him."

V "And fortune, on his damned quarrel, smiling, showed like a rebel's whore."

V "Disdaining fortune with his brandished steel, which smoked with bloody execution."

In the clenched fist of black leather, we see a flash of steel.

V attacks and at once we know this is no normal human being. A single blow sends the largest of the Fingermen flying backwards.

But more than his strength, it is his speed.

A gun is cocked but before the hammer falls, a knife is buried in the Fingerman's chest and --

Before the body falls, the knife is gone.

It takes a handful of seconds and three bodies lay on the ground. V turns to the last Fingerman who is struggling to pull his pants up.

V steps forward and he screams, bolting while holding his pants up.

V Good evening.

V Me? I imagine all manner of names shall be heaped upon my humble visage but, for now, let us simply say I am the villain.

He throws wide his cloak and bows deeply to her.

V And you would be?

V Of course.

They hear sirens rushing towards them. In a blink, he scoops her up and dashes into the shadows of a narrow alleyway.

Police cars and several ambulances swarm over the area with the dead Fingermen.

V watches them from above.

V Why indeed?

He takes out an old antique pocket watch. It is almost midnight.

V Almost time.

V For the music.

V Yes, music. My music. You see. Evey, I am a performer.

V We all wear masks. Life creates them and forces us to find the one that fits. Do you know what day it is?

V Not for long.

He looks out where, rising above the rooftops, he can see Big Ben.

V "Remember, remember, the fifth of November, the gunpowder treason and plot. I know of no reason why the gunpowder treason should ever be forgot."

The second hand sweeps into the final minute.

V Tell me, Evey, what good is an actor that plays his part to an empty theatre?

V Nor do I. That's why you are here. I need you, Evey. I need someone to listen.

V Yes. Yes, to my music.

From his sleeve, he pulls a conductor's wand.

V Can you hear it? It's already begun.

He begins to lightly tap the wand in the air and, very faintly, we hear it.

V At first, you have to listen very carefully...

He continues to conduct and we begin to hear the music, violins and horns that seem almost like a whisper or a wind that steadily swells.

V Ahh, yes. There it is. Beautiful, is it not?

He turns to the parapet, his gestures growing grander as the music rises and we recognize Tchaikovsky's 1812 overture.

The music mounts a climax and V points the wand at Big Ben as cymbals crash --

Big Ben explodes with such force the world seems to shake, while --

V, smiling, always smiling, points again with another crescendo and --

The statue of justice is blown to smithereens.

V nods in appreciation while mustering the music towards it's finale as fireworks begin lighting up the sky.

Everywhere across the city, people stand transfixed by the dazzling shimmer of the fireworks until --

A strobing final blitz leaves a single, starry image floating in the smoke filled sky.

It is the letter V.

V Thank you.

From every direction, the city screams with the panicked sound of sirens.

A massive modern building that is the seat of the new government.

A long, black car pulls up to the entrance. Adam Susan gets out, wearing a long black trenchcoat over his pajamas. He is the Leader and he looks older, heavier, and meaner.

He hurries past the heavily armed guards, barely acknowledging the snap and cock of their Nazi-like salute.

The Leader enters his main chambers and we see the Fate computer system.

It is a cerebral cortex for a vast intelligence network. Information can almost be felt coursing through its hard drives.

The Leader sits, at once regaining a measure of composure. He takes a deep calming breath and accesses the system.

Dozens of monitors fill with images from all across the city, most of them are of the damage caused by V.

Conrad Heyer appears on one of the screens. He is at his desk inside the command center for the Eye, the governmental organization responsible for the visual surveillance systems.

On an insert screen, we see grainy footage of V rescuing Evey from one of the pole-mounted cameras.

As the last body falls, V seems to pause and looks back over his shoulder straight into the camera.

The Leader stares at the smiling face.

Bunny Etheridge appears on another screen. Behind him, huge spooling reels of audiotape wind constantly.

Finch, no longer the same young man, stands at the site of the fireworks launch.

An intercom opens.

They answer in unison as Almond enters the office. His face is harder but he has the same violent gleam in his eye.

The Leader turns in his chair.

Almond does not. The Leader leaps from his chair while pounding the desk.

He moves around the desk at Almond.

Evey is wearing a blindfold and V leads her by her fingertips, guiding her almost as if they were dancing...

His fingers slip free of her and she reaches out.

V No, you haven't.

He is behind her and he removes the blindfold, revealing his house to her.

It is a labyrinth of interconnecting underground tunnels and rooms.

The gallery is the main room as it is filled with an amazing collection of human culture. There is art that spans from the renaissance to the painted covers of Eerie comics, literature that ranges from Shakespeare to Spillane, philosophy from Plato to Bukowski, and a vast collection of nonfiction.

There are movie posters everywhere and an entire wall is lined with videocassettes.

A jukebox stands in front of an enormous vinyl and CD collection of music.

V I saved it. Like everything here.

She punches a button and Billie Holiday begins to sing.

V Of course not. You grew up in their world. Art is created by individuals and there are no individuals in a world where you are told what to think.

V You're welcome to stay.

She stops suddenly and looks at him. The offer is terribly exciting but it is so unlike anything she has ever done that it's almost impossible to imagine.

V Yes. If you like.

V I don't have a name. But you can call me V.

And she returns his smile.

The only operating broadcast tower in London; home of the Mouth.

Lewis Prothero leans forward and lets his voice pour like syrup over the microphone.

He stops and coughs.

In the control booth, Roger Dascombe, his hair thinner now, rubs his temple.

He clicks on the microphone.

He clears his voice and the red "record" light turns on.

Dascombe is unable to stop himself from smiling.

Prothero sits back, shaking his head.

V is alone, listening to the first morning broadcast.

He clicks off the radio. Walking down a hall, he stops and peers into Evey's new bedroom.

She is fast asleep, looking remarkably at peace. Quietly, he shuts the door.

People are hurrying to board a departing train.

Prothero is staring out his window.

He talks to his bodyguards almost as if talking to himself.

The guards look at each other, confused.

He turns back to his window.

The train rumbles along, heading for a tunnel.

Prothero watches the countryside rolling past.

Bodyguard 1 looks out the opposite window just as the train enters the tunnel.

For a flashing instant, we see V in silhouette, cloak swirling around him like dark wings as he jumps from the bridge onto the train.

Prothero and Bodyguard 2 stare at Bodyguard 1.

Deep in the tunnel, a dark figure glides across the rooftops.

The conductor hears something on the roof. He peers up just as V swings down, smashing feet first into the cab.

The brakes suddenly lock, throwing Bodyguard 2 into Prothero.

A moment later, the lights are cut off and the entire train is plunged into complete darkness.

There is a muffled shriek followed by a sharp snap.

There is another sound, like the leather slap of a boxer pounding a heavy bag, followed by the sound of the heavy bag collapsing onto the floor.

He flicks on the lighter and, in the dim light of its flame, he sees the smiling face.

V sits casually, arms folded, across from Prothero. The bodyguards lay dead on the floor.

V just smiles.

V nods and Prothero's eyes go wide.

On the floor, he sees the bodyguard's gun. He kills the lighter and dives for it.

In the darkness, we hear the struggle. It ends quickly. When the lighter flicks back on, V is holding it and the gun.

V I've come to offer you a choice. Commander Prothero.

V Commander Prothero.

Prothero's heart begins to pound.

V That was your title at Larkhill. You remember Larkhill, don't you, Commander?

A sign reads, "Larkhill Resettlement Camp."

V (V.O.) Where they sent the undesirables.

A caged truck packed with minorities rolls into the gates which are topped with spools of razor wire.

Prothero is sweating.

V Maybe I can help your memory. Let's see. Larkhill opened in the summer of 2009. You were appointed it commander. You wore a uniform in those days. You looked very good in it.

Prothero admires his uniform in the mirror.

V (V.O.) You were a man of many responsibilities. You made sure Larkhill made all its quotas, especially the oven quotas even though they required an excessive amount of maintenance.

We see a detail of black and Indian men, shoveling mounds of black ash from a series of furnace like ovens.

As the shovels lift, we see blackened bones and burnt skulls.

Prothero saunters through the lines of camp prisoners.

V (V.O.) But there was one task you took to with exceptional relish. Remember the medical block, Commander? I believe you called it the funny farm. You were the one that selected the prisoners. You hand picked each one.

Prothero steps in front of a woman who remains beautiful despite the suffering she has endured. Prothero smiles.

As the guards grab her, we become aware of a man that is staring at Prothero. He is one of the prisoners but we do not see his face.

Prothero notices the man. He doesn't like the way the man is staring at him.

Prothero is terrified.

V nods.

V You gave us a choice, remember, Commander? You said we could cooperate with the doctors or...

V cocks the gun.

V Hold out your hand.

Trembling, Prothero sticks out his hand. V lets the light die for a moment.

When he flicks it back on, Prothero is holding a long, metal syringe filled with a murky liquid.

V Of course you were. Now I'm telling you to make a choice. Either you stick that syringe into your neck or --

He presses the gun barrel to Prothero's forehead.

V I can kill you right now.

Prothero begins to blubber.

V Crying doesn't help, Commander. I remember there was a woman who had been screaming for two days. You winked at the doctor and laughed, "All in the name of science."

V It's a difficult choice, isn't it? Certain death versus something that might be... worse. But you never know. There is still a chance. You could survive. Look at me. Now, time's up, Commander. Choose.

Anger galvanizes his fear and steadily Prothero lifts the needle towards his neck.

He jams the needle in and sinks the plunger.

V Yes. I'm quite sure you will.

Train workers with flashlights hurry through the cars.

He slams a shoulder against it and the door gives in.

Flashlights sweep over the dead bodyguards. The train man hears a strange gurgling rasp and he turns, finding Prothero in his light.

Prothero is foaming at the mouth while a thick mucus bubbles from his nose. His breath comes in tiny rasps.

Prothero becomes more animate, trying to tell the man something.

Suddenly, his body convulses and blood pours out his ears. His body slumps over.

The station is swarming with police. A stretcher wheels a body in a black plastic bag out from Prothero's car.

Finch puffs on his pipe, staring at something spray painted on the wall of the train car: a "V" with a circle around it.

Dominic, Finch's younger assistant, is holding a flower in his rubber gloved hand.

Finch turns as a soldier with a radio steps into the car.

The door opens and Finch steps in.

Finch looks at the ground.

He moves in close to Finch.

Evey, alone in the Shadow Gallery, stares up at the inscription above the crooked staircase.

V I hear your summons, my lady. And obey.

She jumps, V suddenly appearing behind her.

She turns back to the carving.

V A Latin quotation. A motto. "Vi veri veniversum vivus vici." "By the power of truth, I, while living, have conquered the universe."

She nods.

V Does that bother you?

V drifts over to the big old Wurlitzer, fingers scanning the song list.

V No deals, Evey. Not unless you want them.

She looks up at the inscription as an old blues song begins to play.

She turns to him.

V Yes. I think we can make a deal if you like. I think I know a way you could help me very soon indeed.

Evey smiles nervously.

The blues song curls in the air around them like a heavy incense.

V Nobody you'd have heard of. A German gentleman named Dr. John Faust.

He spins her.

V He made a deal too.

The church doors have opened with the flow of parishioners as the final mass of the day has ended.

The tide slowly pours out onto the sidewalk, separating around the clumps of people that conglomerate to network and gossip.

Church bells toll in the orange dusk above them.

Helen Heyer, a woman whose spite and guile are hidden behind her looks and clothes she drapes them with, charges into the gossipers, her trophy husband in tow, a timid looking man that we recognize as Conrad Heyer.

Helen's head snaps over at the mention of the name.

She pushes past Conrad, giving Derek Almond an exuberant kiss on both cheeks.

Always behind her husband, Rosemary Almond smiles nervously as she straightens her drab church dress.

Helen pouts at him.

Derek taps the bottom of his cigarette box, drawing one with his lips.

Helen rubs her white sable against her body.

Derek laughs as they climb into their car.

Rosemary waves as it pulls off.

Derek sneers at her.

He throws the cigarette at her feet.

From above, a hand sweeps aside the red plush curtain.

Bishop Anthony Lilliman is a slender man of pious elegance with a warm, beautiful smile.

He turns from the window to his valet, Dennis, as Derek and Rosemary get in their car.

He whisks a lint brush over the Bishop's robes before putting them away.

A gentle smile spreads across his mouth.

Dennis finishes with the Bishop's robes and sweeps the closet door shut.

Lilliman chuckles.

The Bishop rubs his cheek, ponderously.

A pair of headlights melt through the heavy night's fog as a taxicab pulls into the circle drive.

Dennis peers into the Bishop's living quarters.

Standing next to Dennis is Evey, wearing a frilly pink summer dress, pigtails and bows and white ruffled socks.

Evey smiles awkwardly.

A shadow begins moving across the manicured grounds borne on the thick mist like a dark phantom. V glides toward the rectory, cloak undulating against the dark, wet wind.

It is extravagantly furnished, somewhere between posh and pimp. The Bishop is sitting very close to Evey on his plush water bed.

Evey stammers, backing up along the bedside.

He paws at her, groping hands pushing the front of her dress down as she backs up against the nightstand.

The guards look out into the night, fear suddenly gripping their faces.

V emerges demonically through the parting veils of fog, the white smiling mask bobbing eerily up and down as he rushes them.

A cigarette drops from the first guard's mouth, red embers exploding when it hits the wet cement.

Close as the two guards claw for their arms and the white hot flash of V's knives --

That slice like talons.

The two men crumple to the ground, clutching their gaping, gurgling wounds. A whisper. V sprints into the courtyard.

Evey grabs a metal table lamp and swings it down on the Bishop's head. There is a shuddering clank and he collapses to the floor.

His blood speckles the white bearskin throw rug as the Bishop slowly rises after the retreating Evey.

He charges after her but freezes dead in his tracks as V swings around the corner in front of him.

V Please allow me to introduce myself...

V bows.

V I'm a man of wealth and taste.

Instantly, the point of one of V's knives is against the Bishop's throat. V presses a finger to his frozen smile.

V Shh. It isn't polite to disturb the dead on their journey.

Evey watches from around the corner.

V A courtesy I'll most respectfully extend to his grace.

Lilliman swallows audibly.

V Vi veri veniversum vivus vici, Evey.

Evey looks down at the knives on his belt, dripping blood.

She begins backing to the door.

V Death has followed his grace the whole of his career. Is it any coincidence it has finally followed him here?

V turns back to Lilliman as Evey runs.

V Let us pray.

Evey sprints past the dead guards at the man gate and into the fog.

A cramped control room that looks like something between a radio and television switching room, though it does not broadcast. It receives.

Two operators sit at the main substation as the sounds of lovemaking come over the speakers. The moans are stifled and low, however, as if they were afraid someone was listening.

Operator 2 does not look at him, scrolling through an intricate city map on his computer.

Operator 1 punches in some coordinates and the sound over the speakers changes to a garbled fart of noise. Two voices drown beneath a cacophony of classical music.

He tries to dial out the background and suddenly the voices rise clearly above the din.

The two men look at each other, Operator 1 lunging for a red phone.

Close on a stain of white vomit and blood on the thick pile of a Persian rug. It is encircled in police chalk.

Pull back to reveal the chalk outline where the body of Bishop Lilliman was found. The circled bloodstain floats above the head like the last word balloon of a crude comic strip character.

The Bishop's quarters is slowly being picked over by a forensic team from the Nose. A photographer's flash bursts against a painted "V" on the wall near the body outline.

At the window, Finch chews on his pipe, staring at a plastic evidence bag that contains a single violet carson rose.

Finch turns to a muscular man named Creedy, second in command at the Finger.

Grunting like an animal, Derek's face is frozen, locked in the rigor of a violent orgasm. After a moment, he collapses beside Helen onto the sweat soaked sheets.

She grabs her cigarette case and her lighter.

She straddles his chest then lights two cigarettes.

He smiles as she puts one of the cigarettes in his mouth.

She whispers in his ear.

He exhales through his grinding teeth.

He whispers.

Helen bolts up.

He smiles, blowing more smoke.

Helen's eyes gleam as he laughs.

He eyes her sucking on the cigarette.

He glares at her.

He smiles again and she presses her body to his.

His eyes close as he grinds his hips into hers and we rise, drifting up to the ceiling light fixture --

Where we see a tiny hidden microphone.

Finch sits at his desk, staring into the silence of his notepad. He has doodled a little "V" with a circle around it.

He looks up as Dominic enters, holding up a portable cassette player.

He hands the player to Finch.

Finch smiles.

Finch punches "play".

Over the small speaker, we sear Evey protesting to V, then run. He stops it.

Finch starts it again and this time the tape is very fuzzy.

We recognize some of the words though muted and crackly.

Finch nods, understanding.

The tape becomes somewhat clearer as the music rests.

They eye each other.

He shuts off the tape.

Finch picks up the bag with the violet carson.

He rises, sliding into his jacket.

Close on the heavy stitching of a "Y" incision sewn into the chest of a corpse. It is one of the Bishop's guards.

Finch is standing next to the cadaver gurney with the coroner, Delia Surridge. She is a serious woman, hair wound tight behind her head in a severe bun.

She fills the dead man's head with cotton and replaces the top of his skull.

Pulling at the man's scalp, she stretches it over the replaced skull piece.

She points at a jagged puncture wound at the base of the man's sternum with a ball point pen.

Finch peers into the hole.

Finch hefts the pile of computer paper.

He flips through the document, biting into the wooden end of his pipe.

Finch pulls the evidence bag from his pocket.

Delia's eyes lock onto the violet carson.

He hands it to her.

Delia, riveted to the rose, suddenly looks up to him.

He turns, leaving her with the rose.

V relaxes with a book in an overstuffed reading chair, a violet carson rose resting on a table next to him. He begins to read a passage aloud.

V "There is more behind and inside of V than any of us had suspected. Not who, but what: what is she?"

He places the book down. Thomas Pynchon's "V".

V rises, lifting the rose and moving into the darkness of the Shadow Gallery.

A small figure moves down the dark wet street, the cobblestones glistening like black scales.

The huddled figure arcs across the street in the shadows, avoiding the pools of streetlight. It is Evey, a frightened look on her face.

A woman in combat boots, fishnets, and a tight fitting soldier's uniform is in the middle of a cheeky number on stage in this smoky burlesque bar. It is a popular place with locals and Fingermen.

Peter Creedy squeezes through the crowd, angling for the back of the bar where a number of loud Fingermen are drinking.

Creedy leans in.

They break up in laughter, led by Creedy who sits next to Harper, pouring himself a drink.

They all begin to hoot and whistle.

Creedy raises his drink.

Everyone cheers in agreement.

They salute and drink.

Derek Almond sits hunched under a desk lamp, pumping the cylinders of his revolver with a wire brush.

Rosemary shuffles up to him, her frumpy gown gathered around her.

He blows down one of the cylinders, not looking up.

Derek stares at the gun, rage building.

Derek leaps up, slugging her.

Rosemary clatters to the ground in tears. Derek glowering over her.

He leans into her face.

He sits back in front of the gun, wiping it down.

Dr. Surridge sits somberly in the dark, street light filtering in from the open curtains.

Her eyes fixed on the violet carson as she slowly turns it over in her hands, fingers tracing the soft petals.

After a moment, she stands, letting it fall from her lap.

Finch turns as Dominic bursts in.

Dominic waves a printout.

Dominic smiles.

Finch slides in front of his computer.

The covers pulled protectively up around her, Delia rests in a light, uneasy sleep.

Suddenly, an eye pops open as she awakens, catching a familiar scent. She slowly sits up and inhales.

She closes her eyes.

From the shadows, V answers.

V Yes.

Tears begin to streak her face.

Dominic hangs over Finch's shoulder as Larkhill's employment record comes up.

Finch's mouth falls open.

Row after row of names scroll by at the end of each bio are the words: deceased, file closed.

The data banks unfurl like a mass grave.

Finch stops, staring at the one name whose file is not closed --

Dr. Delia Surridge.

V floats on the edge of the room's shadows, a dark angel.

V Are you afraid?

She looks at the hovering, smiling mask.

She starts to cry again.

Delia thinks back.

The mask almost nods.

Her voice drops to an almost confessional whisper.

Delia rubs the salty tears from her eyes.

V watches her.

Her voice almost trails off.

Light sweeps across Rosemary from the opening bedroom door as she sobs softly in bed. Derek enters, holding a bottle of whiskey and his clean gun.

She sits up as Derek looms over her.

He lifts the gun into her bruised face. Her eyebrows cringe as he slowly pulls the trigger.

Click. It is empty.

The phone rings.

He grins evilly at her and answers the bedside phone.

Derek's drunk eyes light up.

He slams the phone down, charging out of the room.

A gaggle of drunks exit the bar, laughing and singing as they pass a small figure.

Evey wanders into the bar amidst the lustful screams and cat calls for the line of high stepping, semi-clothed girls on stage.

She stares out into the crowd, not sure why she is here when a man approaches her: Creedy. His sloppy smile indicates he has had a few drinks.

She looks blankly at him.

She turns for the door.

Creedy frowns as his radio crackles.

He screams to the Fingermen at the back.

Evey watches as they storm out of the bar, then follows.

The emergency lights blaring, Finch's car squeals around a corner.

V hovers ghostly at Delia's bedside.

She manages a smile.

V There are no coincidences, Delia. Only the illusion of coincidence.

He reaches into his cloak.

V I have another rose. This one is for you.

He hands it to her.

V produces an empty syringe.

V I killed you ten minutes ago. While you slept.

V sits on the bed.

V No. No pain.

She stares at the mask.

V slowly pulls off his hat and lifts his mask. Delia stares into his face.

The rose falls from her hands.

V quietly shuts the door as if not to wake her and turns just as --

Derek Almond reaches the top of the stairs.

He trains his gun.

He squints.

The smiling mask stares.

Derek pulls back the hammer.

He smiles.

Click. He never loaded it.

There is an awkward moment of silence, then V moves --

Cloak opening, filling the hall like a black tidal wave that envelopes Derek. He chokes a scream as V embraces him, slipping a knife above his floating rib.

Derek Almond sputters as he claws at V's mask.

V Yes, look. Look and tell me what you see.

He rips V's mask off as V thrusts the knife in deeper.

Derek's eyes widen in horror as his life pours out the knife wound.

V jerks his blade free, letting Derek slip to the ground.

Finch's car bucks up onto the sidewalk.

Finch and Dominic tear out of the car and barrel into the house.

At the top of the stairs, they find the dead Derek. Finch rushes past him for the bedroom.

Inside, he finds her. Her eyes fixed, cold, and dead, a single violet carson in her lap.

Evey rushes around a corner to see a crime scene bathed in siren light. She pushes up to the police barricade as the M.E.'s load a draped body into their van.

She tries to angle around to get a better look when a man in a brown overcoat grabs her from behind and drags her into the alley.

From the corner of the room, Finch sits, watching as the M.E.'s wheel out Delia's body.

Dominic squeezes past the gurney and crosses toward Finch.

Finch nods.

Dominic searches for something more to say when Finch does not answer.

After a moment, Finch looks at the book in Dominic's hand, then takes it, leafing through the pages. They flip by, a breathy sigh, rising to a cold wind.

A younger Dr. Surridge, one by one, administers a series of injections to her research stock.

She finishes an injection, Prothero encouraging the next subject. We recognize her as the woman Prothero pointed at.

Delia prepares the next dose, a sour look on her face.

Two inmate orderlies are hefting sacked cadavers from a cart into an incinerator.

Another body thuds onto the pile.

When it is full, they move to the next door until the cart is empty.

Red heat suddenly glows from the oven vents as the orderly throws a series of switches.

Dr. Surridge moves down the drab aseptic hallway accompanied by an armed guard. Roman numerals on the doors to each cell ascend to five.

She pauses at room five.

She looks through the small chicken wire glass window in the door.

In the back, just on the edge of the room's shadow, sits the man in room five, silently staring back.

Dr. Surridge can't seem to break her stare.

Dr. Surridge slowly moves through the Larkhill garden, an incredible abundance of fruits, vegetables and violet carson roses.

She traces the petals of a rose with her finger.

Dr. Surridge and several other Larkhill appointees relax after dinner.

A massive explosion shakes the building to its very core, its windows shattering and hooded pendulum lights swinging.

Men and women clutch at their throats as they tumble out into the yard.

They drop to the ground, gasping and vomiting.

The back door is kicked open, Dr. Surridge following two guards.

She looks out, men running, collapsing, dying in a yellow green haze that seems everywhere.

Another explosion wracks the compound. The pillar of flame rises into the black sky, dwarfing the men in the camp.

Dr. Surridge sees a gaping hole in the medical block, its insides turned out like an unholy birth.

Close on a soldier, doubled over, hacking up bile.

A sticky blue fire licks up from a blackened body like a dura flame.

Dr. Surridge turns as a silhouette crosses the yard, backlit by a curtain of fire.

The man stops.

Dr. Surridge seems to wilt under his stare but cannot look away.

The flames convulse hypnotically behind him.

Finch snaps Dr. Surridge's journal shut.

He sits in front of the Leader's desk puffing on his pipe while Susan stares coldly.

He tosses the journal on Susan's desk.

Finch rises, crossing to the wastebasket.

He taps his pipe into his hand, pouring the contents into the wastebasket.

Finch brushes the ashes from his hands and begins repacking his pipe.

Susan raises his head.

When he finishes repacking the pipe, he replaces it in his mouth.

Finch begins relighting his pipe.

A flame leaps into the air.

Another burst.

The lighter slips back into his pocket.

Finch returns to his chair, letting out a huge cloud.

Finch leans forward.

Susan punches the desk.

And punches it again until his fist hurts.

Susan's collar chokes his face to an unnatural crimson.

After a moment, Finch stands, Susan hanging on his last word.

Finch turns, Susan calling after him as he leaves.

Finch pauses at the door.

Evey stirs as voices drift in from the hall outside her door.

Three guards are silhouetted in the doorway of a cramped jail cell. Still sluggish from the chloroform, Evey looks down at the coarse slipover she's now wearing.

One of the men, Rossiter, crosses toward Evey, swinging a pair of shackles. He grabs Evey, slamming her face down into the hard cot, driving a knee between her shoulder blades.

Evey screams.

The shackles bite down on her wrists as they laugh in the hall.

Rossiter stands her up, shoving her into the wall.

He slides a thick hood over her head.

The hood is lifted from her head. Evey squints hard, awash in a blinding, burning light.

A man sits, unmoving, at a desk across from her, a guard at his side, both backlit by a harsh white kliegs.

Evey's eyes start to water as she blinks.

A monitor next to the desk lights up. From the snowy static, an image begins to form.

A girl is talking to a man. She is shoving her hips at him, propositioning him. When more men appear from the alley, Evey realizes she is watching herself.

Rossiter grabs a handful of her hair.

She swallows hard when she sees V emerge on the screen. The image freezes on his smiling face.

The monitor blinks off.

Rossiter slips the hood back over Evey's head.

Evey cries as a rough hand runs a pair of electric clippers over her head. Huge sheaves of her hair fall to the ground.

Evey lies crumpled on the hard floor, unmoving, as a tray of food is slid through a slot at the bottom of the door.

She watches as a rat crosses from a hole in the wall, sniffing the murky rendered gelatin in the wooden bowl.

Evey hangs limply from a set of manacles as she is washed and deloused by heavy hands.

She coughs in the yellow bug powder cloud as it burns her eyes and the red welts on her back.

Evey is curled up on the cot like a dry fetus, now gaunt arms wrapped around her legs. She blinks when she hears something moving in the rat hole.

Evey raises her head as something is pushed through the crevice.

Tentative fingers search the hole, pulling out a length of toilet paper. Over every inch of it is a delicately scrawled message.

We move into the rathole, its edges slowly filling the frame until black.

Pull back from a shadow, the outline of the interrogator's silhouette against sharp light coming into frame.

Rossiter is buckling Evey's thin arms and legs into a chair. Her now frail frame can barely hold up the frayed brown slipover.

On the table in front of her, there is a large wash basin of water. Rossiter dunks her head into it.

A teacher reads from her lesson plan in front of rows and rows of uniformed pubescences in this all girl private school. Her voice drones on and on like Muzak.

A blonde tomboy sneaks a smile to her curly haired friend next to her.

Her hand slides across the desk, fingers tickling the young flesh of Sara's wrist.

The teacher's voice slows, dropping octaves, becoming --

A man's voice.

Valerie looks at Sara across the room, her head down in shame.

Two teenage girls stand in front of a middle aged couple. They are holding hands.

The greying woman repeats the sign of the cross over and over, sobbing into a handkerchief. Her husband's face is contorted in disgust.

Two young women cuddle on a park bench under a London summer sky, feeding the pigeons.

The black haired girl nibbles on the blonde's ear.

Evey struggles against Rossiter's weight who keeps her head submerged.

Rossiter wrenches back and Evey sucks hard for air, coughing out water.

Evey stares at him, eyes red, heart pounding in her ears.

Evey begins to shake her head, water sluicing off her thin face.

Rossiter grabs Evey's neck --

Plunging her head into the bowl. Water fills Evey's nose and ears.

The packed house watches as a Prince kneels before a woman's bare foot with a slipper of glass.

The woman glances into the dark sea of faces.

Two women weep in each other's arms, embracing in a perfect knee high meadow.

The blonde woman brushes away a tear from the other's cheek.

We pull back and see we are on location for a movie and the two women are being filmed.

Ruth and Valerie sit on the couch watching television. On the table behind them is a bouquet of violet carson roses.

The two women stare at the newscast in tears, the sound of marching coming from the set's speakers.

The sound of marching explodes as columns of men in brown uniforms and jack boots fill the streets.

Rossiter presses his elbow onto Evey's neck, holding her submerged.

Rossiter lets Evey up. Her red burnt lungs gulp at the air.

Evey blinks hard, black fireworks exploding in her eyes.

She wheezes, on the edge of unconsciousness.

The interrogator's voice melts into a slag heap of sound with the hot, rhythmic pounding in her ears.

Rossiter uncuffs Evey, slipping the black bag over her head.

Evey's knees buckle as he forces her to stand.

Evey weaves down the hall. Rossiter shoving her from behind.

The cell door swings open.

Rossiter yanks the hood from her head and pushes her in.

The iron door slams shut, lock ringing in the stale air.

Evey rolls to her knees.

She crawls for the rat hole.

Her shaking hand pulls the letter from the stone crevice.

Evey clutches it like a rosary as she begins to cry.

She holds the note to her face, her tears soaking into the fragile paper.

Slowly, Evey slips away, succumbing to blackness.

Loud lights blare against Evey's solemn face.

A typed document sits on a small tray table in front of her.

Rossiter hovers just behind her as the Interrogator reads her confession.

Evey's expression is unchanging.

Rossiter drops a pen on the table.

The pen slowly rocks to a stop.

She blinks.

Rossiter begins unbuckling Evey's restraints.

He forces Evey to her feet.

The door opens behind Evey as she rereads Valerie's letter for the last time.

She holds the tattered piece of toilet paper to her chest.

Evey closes her eyes.

Her last words hang in the air.

He turns and leaves.

She listens as his footsteps fade down the hall, the door hanging weirdly open.

Evey takes a few tentative steps toward the door and sticks her head out into the empty hall, peering down both ways.

Slowly, she emerges from her cell, retracing her path down the hall that her blindfold never allowed her to see.

Quietly inching along the wall, Evey peeks around a corner, gasping at the rigid guard standing off to the side. There is something about the man's frozen stare that keeps her from running.

Evey straightens and crosses to the guard.

It is a mannequin.

She touches him, the wheeled platform he is mounted on rolling back against the wall.

The door creaks open as Evey enters the room where for so long she was questioned and tortured.

She crosses to the frozen Interrogator sitting at his desk.

Her finger brushes lightly against the plastic hand, then Evey raps a knuckle on his hollow wooden head. Around his neck a small speaker hangs from a cord.

Evey drifts uneasily into a back room where a discarded prison guard's uniform hangs on a rack. On a table next to a wig and pair of gloves, the rat looks up at her through the bars of its tiny cage.

She moves through another door, the wind suddenly knocked from her chest as she finally sees where her prison was built --

V steps from the shadows.

V Welcome home, Evey.

Her mouth hangs open.

Evey's rail thin figure begins to shake.

She stumbles against the wall, unable to support herself.

She doubles over, covering her face as she bursts into tears.

Evey looks up at him, body shivering as he quietly glides toward her.

V Because I love you, Evey. Because I wanted to set you free.

A look of horror twists her starved face.

Slender fingers ball into fists.

Disgust and anger light up her eyes.

Her little, wiry body coils tight as she circles him.

V You were already in a prison. You've been in a prison all your life.

V Happiness is the most insidious prison of all, Evey.

V You were born in a prison, Evey. I didn't put you there. I just showed you the bars. You've been in a prison so long, you no longer believe there's an outside world.

She wheels away from him, covering her ears, trying to get away from his voice.

V That's because you're afraid, Evey. You're afraid because you can feel freedom closing in on you. You're afraid because freedom is terrifying.

Evey falls, stumbling through the labyrinth of the Shadow Gallery.

V Don't back away from it, Evey. Part of you understands the truth even as part pretends not to.

She collapses, head pounding.

V Woman, this is the most important moment in your life. Don't run from it.

V couches next to her.

V Good. You're almost there. Go closer. Feel the shape of it.

V You were in a cell. They offered you a choice between the death of your principles and the death of your body.

He cradles her as she hyperventilates, tears streaming down her face.

V You said you'd rather die. You faced the fear of your own death and you were calm. Try to feel now what you felt then.

The mask hovers over her.

He squeezes her shuddering body.

V The door of the cage is open, Evey. All that you feel is the wind from outside. Don't be afraid.

Gently, he lifts her.

V Try to walk. The lift will take us to the roof.

He helps her to an open elevator.

V No, Evey. No more blindfolds.

The cage in the elevator rattles shut.

The two figures stand in the door of the roof access, a raging tempest oozing from a split sky.

Something draws Evey out into the storm.

Slowly, she walks beneath it, the wind and rain pounding against her thin frame. Evey lets the coarse slipover fall to the ground and stares straight up into the storm, naked, the elements soaking into her very being.

V moves up behind her.

V Do you feel it?

V I know. Five years ago, I too stared beneath a night like this. Naked under a roaring sky.

A low rumble of thunder washes over London.

V The night is yours, Evey. Seize it. Encircle it within your arms.

His words buffet against her with the sheets of rain.

V Bury it in your heart up to the hilt.

She raises her arms to embrace the raging torrent.

V Become transfixed and transfigured --

A jagged bolt of lightning shatters the sky.

V Forever.

Finch gets out of a police car and looks up the black face of the modern building. He sighs and taps his pipe against the heel of his shoe.

Finch turns to find Dascombe hurrying towards him.

Finch chews on his pipe.

He turns and heads into the building.

FADE OUT:

FADE IN:

A dark November sky hangs like a shroud over the building.

The heads of each department are gathered around a table of black granite.

Peter Creedy, sitting back out of the lights, is the new head of the Finger.

He glares at Finch.

The Leader trembles like a volcano set to blow.

The Leader grabs a large box from the floor and hurls reams of computer printout across the table.

He punches a "play" button and a wall of monitors blink on. It is a recording of a television variety show.

A character that is made to look like Adam Susan is giving a speech. A woman is dressed like V except that the only thing she is wearing under her cloak is a garter belt, stockings and high heels.

V sneaks up behind Susan and yanks his pants down. Susan is outraged but when he gives chase he trips over his pants. The audience hoots and howls.

The Leader kills the tape.

He stares each of them to silence.

He pauses.

Everyone is stunned.

The Leader stands at the window.

His eyes bore into him.

A police car is parked in a dark alley. It is raining and the windows of the car are completely steamed.

He is sweating, his knuckles white as he squeezes the steering wheel, panting.

We hear a noise like a very wet kiss and then a woman's voice.

Helen lifts her head out of his lap. Her lipstick is smeared about her mouth.

She whispers in his ear while playing with his lap.

She lowers her head into this lap.

Helen lifts her head.

Her head drops back down. Creedy moans.

The name seems to orgasm from his mouth.

Finch sits alone in his modest apartment, reading a book. The book is Koesterler's, "The Roots of Coincidence."

An old CD player is playing music, a Bach piano concerto.

V is playing the exact same concerto on his piano, his gloved fingers gracefully flitting across the keys.

Evey enters the gallery. Her hair has grown out but is still short. She projects a kind of strength that comes from a deep inner peace.

V coaxes the final delicate notes and lets them softly fade.

She walks up to him and takes the smiling face in her hands.

She bends and gently kisses the frozen lips.

V You did it all yourself, Evey. I just provided the backdrop but the drama was all your own.

She takes the letter from her pocket.

She looks down.

V But I didn't write that letter, Evey.

V Come with me.

It is a shrine. The walls are covered with movie posters and reviews and pictures of an actresses named Valerie Page. We recognize her as the woman chosen for the medical block just before V.

Everywhere there are flower boxes filled with blooming roses; violet carsons.

V Yes. Valerie Page. She was the woman in room four.

V She wrote the letter just before she died. I delivered it to you as it was delivered to me. The words you wept over were the same words that transformed me.

Evey smiles and bends to smell the roses.

V Yes.

V Evey, do you know what day it is?

V You remembered.

V You know me too well now.

V I'm going to fulfill an old promise.

Evey cocks an eyebrow.

V I'll show you.

Carrying a lantern, V leads Evey down a dark stone staircase.

V Yes. It is the deepest part of my home. Once you know it, I should think you'll know everything.

He pushes a button and a secret passage opens in a heavy stone wall.

There is a small narrow series of passageways that he guides her through, leading to another door. Evey steps out into an underground subway station.

Parked beside the concrete platform is a beautiful antique train car.

V In a way, I suppose it really found me.

Evey steps into the train car and finds it filled with little packages wrapped in wax paper.

V Gelignite.

She screams and almost drops one.

V Careful.

V I told you. I'm going to finish what was started four hundred years ago.

V This is the old Victoria line but it is blocked, blocked somewhere between Whitehall and St. James.

V nods.

V I just thought I might ask them to turn it on for me.

The Leader sits bathed in the flickering images of the Fate computer.

On one of the screens, a television program has just begun.

We cut from that screen to another screen --

The television studio where Roger Dascombe surveys a large bank of monitors filled with the images of typically vapid television entertainment.

A player locks on as a recorded program begins. We move in as the logo slashes across the screen: Storm Saxon.

We pull back from the show's opening teaser and find ourselves looking at a small television.

In the delivery bay at the back of Jordan tower, five security guards are riveted to the heroic actions of Storm Saxon.

Behind them, a shadowy figure in a cloak and tall hat enters the loading bay.

They all turn and find a smiling V.

They go for their weapons. V goes for them. It is brutal and quick, knives slicing in bloody arcs, bodies kicked and thrown with superhuman power.

The TV crashes to the ground and we move in at it as Storm Saxon stands triumphant beside his buxom lass.

We pull back on another television screen inside --

Dominic is chewing on a hamburger, engrossed in Storm Saxon. Across the room, Finch is reading the "Roots of Coincidence."

Dominic answers with a mouthful of cheeseburger.

Finch shakes his head, reaching for his pipe. He realizes he is out of tobacco. He slides open the bottom desk drawer and his eyes almost pop out of his head.

He stares into the drawer like someone staring at his own tombstone.

Slowly, he lifts something from the drawer. On his desk, he lays out several knives, a cloak, a hat, and a smiling mask.

Finch lifts the mask and almost has to laugh.

He puts the mask to his face.

V emerges from an elevator and immediately attacks several more guards. A surveillance camera watches as V steps over their slumped, broken bodies.

The security guard sees V on the monitor coming directly down the hall.

He grabs the machine gun, aiming it just as V kicks open the door.

V stops. At least five guards have trained their weapons on him. He is surrounded.

Slowly, he lifts his arms as though surrendering. His cloak opens, revealing enough TNT to level the entire building. In his hand is the plunger detonator.

V nods.

The door bursts open as Creedy and a group of heavily armed Fingermen muscle in.

V follows Roger Dascombe into the main control booth. The door shuts behind them and they are alone.

All around them are the laugh tracks and gunshots of the evening's entertainment.

V puts his hand into his cloak and pulls out a videotape. He hands it to Dascombe.

Finch glares at Creedy.

Creedy smiles, his finger tightening on the trigger when --

He points at the television where V sits calmly at a desk in front of the "VTV" logo.

V Good evening, London.

V I thought it was time we had a little talk.

Finch and Dominic rush out of the room. Creedy looks at his confused men.

V smiles at the horrified Adam Susan.

V Are you sitting comfortably? Good. Then I'll begin.

The Leader screams, pounding on Fate.

He hits the intercom.

We move in at VTV.

V Right now, I imagine there are hundreds of soldiers rushing here to kill me because someone does not want us to talk.

We pull back in --

A family watching television. In the background, two children are squabbling.

The husband does. V's voice gets louder as we move towards him.

V They are afraid that I am going to say the things that are not supposed (MORE)

V (CONT'D) to be said. They are afraid that I am going to say the truth.

A man sits on his couch, mesmerized by V.

V The truth is that there is something terribly wrong with this country, isn't there? If you look about, you witness cruelty, injustice and despotism. But what do you do about it? What can you do?

He pops his beer tab and the beer foams over the couch but he doesn't seem to notice.

The car races wildly towards Jordan tower as Finch and Dominic listen to the broadcast on the radio.

V (V.O.) You are but a single individual. How can you possible make any difference? Individuals have no power in this modern world. That is what you've been taught because that is what they need you to believe. But it is not true.

The Leader seethes, staring at three television monitors in his limo which are all filled with V.

V This is why they are afraid and the reason that I am here; to remind you that it is individuals who always hold the power. The real power. Individuals like me. And individuals like you.

The bar is almost completely soundless except for the voice of V. People stare at the television as if the moment were somehow suspended in time.

V I have come to offer you a deal. If you accept, I will give you a different world. A world without curfews, without soldiers and surveillance systems. A world that is not run by other men but that is run by you. I am offering you a second chance.

The military forces have begun to swarm.

V Four hundred years ago, a great citizen made a most significant contribution to our common culture. It was a contribution forged in secrecy and stealth although it is best remembered in noise and bright light.

A crowd has gathered, watching through the window.

V To commemorate that glorious night at precisely the stroke of midnight, the edifice of their world will erupt with enough sound and fury to shake the earth. All I ask is that you join me at the gates to watch as the past is erased, the pathway cleared so that together we can start toward a new day.

The Leader climbs out of his limo and is met by one of his captains.

Finch can see the forces gathering outside Jordan tower.

V (V.O.) But, you ask, who am I to make such promises? A fair question but hardly necessary as you know me already. To know me any more you need only look to a mirror.

Finch catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror.

VTV fills every screen.

V Truth be told, this wasn't even my idea, was it? If you think back, you'll remember that night, whispering in your lover's arms. I became a part of your plan just as you have now become part of mine. Give me the line of the queen and I'll give you your secret dream.

A heavy battering ram is rushed down the hall, carried by four soldiers.

V (V.O.) On the twelfth stroke of the fifth day of the eleventh month, I hope we shall all meet again.

The crowd is much larger.

V Until then, I bid you goodnight.

Every screen suddenly goes black. The crowd turns to each other, unsure of what to do.

The door explodes open. V is standing alone, almost as if waiting for them.

Before he can even move, they shoot. Machine gun fire lights up the room. V's body dances and jerks backward, smashing through an observation window --

Falling to the television stage below.

A path is cleared for the Leader. As he heads into the television studio, an armed soldier is heading in the opposite direction.

It is impossible to tell because of the dark face plate but it looks like the soldier is smiling.

The Leader shoves his way onto the main stage. A group of soldiers is gathered around the body.

The mask is pried off, revealing the lifeless face of Roger Dascombe. To the Leader, it is an obvious revelation.

Finch's voice stops the Leader cold.

He eyes the room. Everyone is silent.

The Leader storms past Finch who looks at Dascombe and bites down on his pipe.

One of the Ear's black vans has been modified with large speakers wired to the roof. As the van rolls down the street, the speakers drone with a looped message.

Out of the back, soldiers hurl leaflets that swirl and flutter in the van's wake.

The little girl on the bicycle that we saw earlier stops and picks up one of the leaflets.

It has a picture with the body of Roger Dascombe beneath the headline, "The terrorist is dead! London is safe once again!"

She crumbles the leaflet and throws it.

She gets off her bike and takes something out of the backpack.

Turning to a nearby wall, she spray paints a large circle around a "V".

A recording of VTV plays on the small television.

V ... if you give me the line of the queen, I'll give you your secret dream.

Dominic freezes the image; V stares at them, smiling.

Finch stares out the window.

Finch smiles.

He rewinds and starts the tape.

V ... This wasn't even my idea, was it?

V If you think back, you'll --

V continues on a different television.

V Remember that night, whispering in your lover's arms.

Helen Heyer is lying on her bed, eating chocolates, watching V through calculating eyes.

At her feet, we hear a suckling noise that suddenly stops.

She shoves her foot back into his mouth and he continues to suck on it and each of her toes.

V ... now you've become a part of mine.

Conrad moves up her ankle, licking and kissing his way to her knee.

V Give me the line of the Queen and I'll give you your secret dream.

She freezes the tape. Her eyes light up and she smiles back at him.

Conrad licks along the inside of her thigh until she slaps him.

She shoves the candy in his mouth.

She smiles.

He nods still gagged with the candy.

There are cameras set in front of the large black leather chair so that the flashing images and data of the Fate computer system can be seen behind the Leader.

A makeup artist mattes down the Leader's lipstick.

The makeup artist adjusts one last hair and scurries off.

He points and the camera's red light goes on.

The same family, the same squabbling children watching as a "Special Bulletin" interrupts a laugh track.

No one is watching.

A drunk struggles up onto his bar stool blocking the TV.

The drunk raises his glass.

The bar cheers.

The Leader reaches for his Bible.

The megaphones blast the Leader's voice.

There are stacks of printout everywhere.

Finch stops reading, listening to the radio.

Another radio crackles with the Leader's voice.

V nods, almost laughing as Evey enters the gallery.

V Of course, my dear.

He reaches over and changes the frequency. We hear voices, hushed and secret but we recognize them.

The voices are labored, punctuated by gasps and moans.

V That, Evey, is what I have been waiting for.

We are pulled by the radio into --

Where we see a tiny microphone hidden in the ceiling light above the bed.

Helen moans as we drift down, glimpsing Helen, her arms reaching for the edges of the bed, her back arching up towards Creedy, behind her, smiling.

He inserts a finger into her.

That sends a shiver through Helen's body.

Her eyes close and her fists knot the sheets.

The word is almost lost in her orgasm.

The sun rises over London. It is the morning of the fourth.

Finch looks through the blinds at the morning sun. He has been up all night. He checks his watch: 6:00am.

Rubbing the knot in his neck, he turns back to his office which is now buried beneath mounds of paper.

Dominic is passed out, sprawled on the couch, and clutching a printout from Spencer's "Fairy Queen."

Dominic jumps, immediately searching the printout.

Dominic lets the papers fall to the floor.

Conrad pulls his car into his reserved space.

Helen holds Conrad's chin the way a mother holds a child when she is telling them something important.

Conrad nods.

He embraces her to kiss but she turns her perfectly painted lips.

Ardently, he kisses her cheek.

Finch sits alone, palms pressed to his bleary eyes.

With a red pen, he begins absently drawing red circles around any V he sees on any piece of paper.

Victims. Vectors. Values. Victory. Words from quotes and lists.

Suddenly, he stops. Carefully, as if reaching to touch a butterfly, he slips a single sheet out from the sheaves covering his desk.

The paper has a long list: the names of all the Queens of England. He has circled in red the V in Victoria.

When it hits him, it hits him like a falling safe.

The intercom clicks on.

The door slaps open.

The Leader waves the Lieutenant off.

She glances at Conrad.

The Leader studies her.

In his car, Finch races to a corner and slams on the brakes. He gets out, staring at a shadow on the ground: a "V" in a circle.

The shadow is cast by a sign for Victoria Station, part of the abandoned subway.

The gates are chained shut. He fires his pistol into the lock, kicks open the rusting gates, and descends into the underground.

The Leader closes the door behind them.

She is unable to go on, seemingly about to burst into tears.

He touches her and it is all she needs. She buries her face into his chest.

Conrad is alone with Fate. He glances about nervously, moving closer and closer. His fingers reach out and graze the main keyboard. Taking a deep breath, he turns and begins to type.

The Leader takes hold of Helen by her shoulders.

Conrad accesses the department of water and power. He finds the correct file and begins rerouting power to a once dead system.

A hanging light suddenly sizzles to life. V looks up, smiling.

The Leader stares hard at Helen.

She clutches him.

Do you have any evidence at all?

Tears well up in Helen's eyes as she shakes her head.

His eyes fly wide and he spins away from her, throwing open the door.

Conrad sits calmly across the room.

He turns to Helen.

The Lieutenant appears almost instantly.

Helen looks up at the Leader, a smile hidden near the corners of her perfect red lips.

The Leader nods.

Helen and Conrad get out of the elevator, standing beneath the rows of new party flags that line the lobby.

She embraces him, pressing her body against his.

She almost kisses him.

Smiling, she pivots on her heel and heads for the door. He reaches for her when --

The front desk guard rushes towards him.

He hands him a small, brown wrapped box.

He looks back for Helen but she is already gone.

A single flashlight beam creeps toward us as Finch searches the detritus of the dead train line.

Sitting at a stoplight, Conrad decides to open the package. Inside is a cassette tape. The light changes and a car behind him honks. He starts forward and inserts the tape.

Finch crawls up onto the platform of V's hidden station, staring at the beautiful old train car.

Strangling the steering wheel, Conrad listens to the tape. The speedometer climbs as everything seems to accelerate.

Helen moans.

Finch steps inside the car, his flashlight sweeping over the stacks of gelignite.

A scream builds in Conrad. With tears in his eyes, he stares out the windshield but sees only the images created by the tape.

Conrad loses control and the car careens up onto the sidewalk and smashes into a brick wall.

Lifting his bloodied forehead, Conrad looks out and sees the ubiquitous poster partially destroyed by the crash: "Strength through purity, purity through faith."

Finch hears something and jerks back, almost falling out of the car. Aiming his gun, he finds no one. He turns and bolts.

As the sound of his footsteps fade, V steps out of the shadows.

The Leader's Lieutenant looks up from his desk and sees Finch rushing towards him.

Finch charges through the doors.

The Leader and his Captain turn.

Creedy opens the trunk of his car. In the phosphorescent glow of the streetlight, the set of knives gleam. He bundles the costume that he tried to planet on Finch into his arms, then slams the trunk.

Above, a window blind that was cracked open snaps shut.

The Leader moves towards Finch.

Conrad waits, hidden inside a bedroom closet. He hears the front door close and his grip tightens around the handle of a long, steel-necked hammer.

The Leader is steadily convincing himself of something.

The Leader lifts his hand, silencing Finch.

Finch is suddenly overwhelmed by a feeling that is common to chess players. It is the disturbing sense that you have just done exactly what your opponent wanted.

Evey sits in the gallery, reading Pynchon's "V" just as V had done. She suddenly feels V watching her.

V Yes.

Evey smiles as V steps out of the shadows.

V Change, Evey. That's all. Just change.

V Yes, I suppose it will.

Creedy empties a bottom drawer, making room to hide the costume. As he does, the closet door behind him slowly creeps open.

V stands at the jukebox.

V Because, Evey, that is the nature of change. She is a temperamental creature that appears in earnest rarely but, when she does, she will wear one of two faces. The first face is the destroyer. It is lamentable but all true change begins with death.

A dark figure stands over Creedy. The hammer raises, a slash of silver against the velvety darkness.

V punches a button on the jukebox just as --

The hammer falls with a sickening soft crunch.

The song begins to play; a melancholy song that says goodbye to love.

Blood pours down Creedy's snarling face, he snatches one of V's knives as another hammer blow cracks through his collar bone.

He screams, lunging at Conrad.

V listens to the song, the smiling eyes somehow knowing.

The hammer falls again and again until the metal head is slick with blood and meat.

Conrad stumbles back, dropping the hammer. He looks down at the hilt of the knife protruding from his stomach. He yanks it out and holds V's knife which is bright red with his own blood.

He collapses to the floor.

The song continues.

V The other face? She is the true face of change. The face of the creator. She is the one that remakes the world. Evey?

V May I ask you for a favor?

V It is a small thing but it would mean a great deal to me.

V I've never danced before. I've thought about it many times, here in this room, listening to the music. But I've always been alone.

Evey smiles and crosses to him.

He opens his arms and she steps into them. They dance, standing very close, his gloved hand holding tightly to hers, her smile against his.

Dozens of military vehicles swarm around the entrance to Victoria Station while heavily armed men pour through the gates of the underground.

The song ends.

V Thank you, Evey. You are an excellent dancer.

V Alas, I have run out of time.

He bows, pressing his frozen lips to her hand. Evey is suddenly nervous.

V Don't you remember? I have a date tonight, Evey.

She seizes hold of his hand.

V Of course, I'll be back. You don't think you can be rid of me now, do you?

V I promise.

She lets him go.

Soldiers swarm through the station. Susan stares in shock, outraged by the mere presence of the train.

He turns to the Captain.

Suddenly the lights go out.

The Leader smiles.

Five soldiers creep forward in a tight formation, their flashlights probing every nook and cranny.

Behind them, a secret passage opens and V steps out.

He is among them with frightful speed, a grinning dervish with blades like metal fangs ripping and rending flesh, slashing bright in the flashlight.

Other soldiers rush towards the screams and gunfire but they find only five bodies and warm blood running down the walls.

From the opposite end, there is another series of screams and machine gun fire that lights up the dark tunnel for a moment. Then, nothing.

Back in the tunnels, V drops from above, his cloak a swirling cloud of squid ink that hides him in the darkness.

Again, quicksilver knives lash out, drawing fonts of blood.

Finch can feel the panic that is spreading through the tunnel.

A voice rings out from hidden speakers, echoing through the tunnels.

V (V.O.) Good evening citizens of London. This is the voice of Fate. Your fate...

V (V.O.) Tonight, the face of London is going to change and I am going to offer you the chance to change with her. Your Leader is finished. He will not leave these tunnels alive.

The Leader screams to be heard over the resonant voice of V.

V (V.O.) At midnight tonight, the Head will be destroyed and a new era will begin. You must now decide if you are going to be a part of that era.

Everywhere, terrified soldiers listen to the voice.

V (V.O.) You can choose to stay here and die with your Leader or you can choose to be free. The decision is yours and yours alone.

V (V.O.) Some of you have wives. Some of you have families. All of you have lives. Consider each of them as you ask yourself, are they a part of the past, or are they a part of the future?

Deep in the tunnel, two soldiers look at each other. Simultaneously, they drop their guns and run.

Groups of solders drop their weapons and disappear into the shadows.

The station fills with the sound of boots running wildly away.

Finch slowly draws back away from the Leader.

The few men on the platform are soon the only men left.

A knife sings through the air and buries itself in the Captain's chest. With a tiny rasp, he falls to the ground.

The remaining men bolt.

He grabs for the Captain's machine gun.

"You" echoes down the dark empty throat of the tunnel.

The Leader looks around, his flashlight sweeping in big arcs as he realizes that he is alone.

V You are going to die as you ruled --

The Leader screams, whipping around towards the voice.

V Alone.

The smile is as cold and as sharp as the knife that flicks from his hand.

The Leader raises his gun just when the knife sinks into his shoulder.

Howling in pain, he drops the gun.

V smiles into the spot of his flashlight.

V closes in.

V You, most of all, should know, Leader. You created me. Without you, I would never be. More than life, Leader, you gave me purpose.

V draws his final blade.

V "He that killeth with the sword, shall be killed with the sword."

V raises the knife.

V and the Leader turn to find Finch aiming a machine gun at V.

V does and Susan begins an almost hysterical laugh.

He steps toward V, staring into his smiling black eyes.

Finch ignores the Leader.

He tosses the gun to the Leader.

The Leader seethes, his eyes boring into Finch.

V Goodbye, Mr. Finch.

The machine gun burst shatters the quiet concrete silence. Finch falls dead at V's feet.

He aims the gun at V.

V The real question is, are you?

The Leader laughs.

V No. But I don't have to.

Almost casually, V bends down to pick up the knife --

The Leader screams and fires.

Bullets knock V back a bit but he continues, grabbing the knife and standing.

Eyes widening with disbelief, the Leader fires another blast as V begins walking towards him.

The machine gun roars, bullets shredding out through the back of V's cloak as he continues with short deliberate steps until --

The hammer clicks against the pin. The gun is empty.

V stands before him.

V You see? You cannot kill me. There is no flesh and blood within this cloak to kill. There is only an idea.

V smiles.

V And ideas are bulletproof.

The Leader screams.

V drives the knife into his heart, killing him instantly.

V stands alone amidst the carnage and seeping pools of red.

His body wavers. He takes his hands out from beneath his cloak and reveals his gloves, wet with blood.

The front door opens and Helen enters.

She walks up the stairs to the bedroom.

She steps into the room, her sole and heel sinking into the plush carpet soaked with blood.

When she sees Creedy's head mashed open, she covers her mouth.

Conrad has propped himself against the bed.

He crawls toward her, slipping on the wet carpet.

He reaches for her foot, his hand gloved with wet red.

She checks her watch; two hours to midnight.

Conrad seizes hold of her ankle.

The look in his eyes frightens her. She tries to kick free of him but he won't let go. Twisting, she reaches for the door but slips on the carpet.

He crawls up her body still clutching the bloody knife.

Conrad raises the knife.

The knife falls.

Evey hears V on the spiral staircase.

Scarlet footprints trail behind V as he struggles down the stairs.

He nods and then collapses, rolling down the rest of the stairs.

Running to him, she falls to his side. His clothes are slick with blood.

V Evey...

V It's too late for that...

V Evey, listen to me. I've not long and there are things that must be said.

His voice strains beneath the mask.

V I have done that which I came to do. Now, it is time for me to rest and with me the past will, at last, find peace.

Trembling, Evey holds him.

V But the world, the world is not saved... Do not think that, when the fires die and the smoke clears, there is no miracle... there is only a path... upon which they must learn to rule themselves.

V Not me, Evey, not me. I told you I am the villain. The destroyer... But yes, they will need help...

He reaches up and wipes a tear from her cheek.

V I kept my promise to you, Evey... Now you must promise me.

V Promise me... you will discover the face under this mask... but you will never look beneath it.

V Promise me. Please...

V Sweet Eve. Wherever I shall go, I shall always love you.

V Midnight... Midnight. Eve... Make them remember...

V Let me be there, Evey, when it begins... Please, let me hear the music, one last time... my music...

V I know you won't... I know...

V My love... Ave Atque vale...

Holding him as tight as she can, she feels his life drain away, slipping through her arms in the way the last grains of sand pour through the neck of the hourglass.

She buries her face beside his and weeps.

An enormous crowd has begun to gather in the streets surrounding the New Government Building. With the crowd, a restlessness swells against each barricade erected by the military.

A sergeant stands on an armored car, speaking through a megaphone.

Evey huddles against the stair railing, her face tear stained, staring at the lifeless body of V.

She touches the mask, her fingers finding its edge.

Her fingers stop.

V (V.O.) You will discover the face under this mask but you will never look beneath it.

Evey stares into the eyes, the dark, empty eyes.

Her expression changes.

V (V.O.) I know you won't... I know.

A small smile creeps across her face.

Midnight approaches and the crowd feels it. Spilling everywhere, they fill the streets like a flood.

Evey sets a final violet carson on the chest of V. He is lying on a bed made of gelignite, covered in roses.

Touching his mask, she bends over him.

Tenderly, she presses her lips to the smile, her eyes closing, her final tears blinking free.

She backs away and V smiles, his lips wet with her kiss, his cheek wet with her tears.

On the train platform, Evey reaches through the window and starts the train.

The wheels churn as the train lurches forward.

V (V.O.) "Make them remember..."

She watches the train disappear into the tunnel.

The crowd surges against a barricade when a voice cries out across the city echoing through the megaphone on every corner.

High above the gathered mass, a masked figure steps out onto a roof parapet.

The crowd explodes.

The train barrels along, screaming against its rusted rails.

Dressed as V, Evey stands on the roof's edge, speaking into a microphone.

Again, the crowd bursts into a frenzy.

The voice booms over the mesmerized crowd.

She feels the sea of humanity beneath her, almost channeling their energy.

The crowd screams as one and their scream becomes --

The train hurling like a bullet through a gun barrel. Ahead the tracks end, buried beneath the rubble of the collapsed tunnel.

Inside the rattling train, V lays in perfect repose.

V (V.O.) Let me be there, Evey, when it begins...

Hidden and alone, Evey pulls the mask from her face.

V (V.O.) Please let me hear the music... one last time... my music.

Almost unconsciously, Evey raises her hand and coaxes the first soft notes as he had once done.

V (V.O.) At first, you have to listen carefully.

The violins of the 1812 overture steadily rise.

V (V.O.) Ah, yes. There it is. Beautiful, is it not?

Evey smiles, her hand still gently conducting.

With the clash of cymbals, the train crashes into the wall of rubble.

The entire building opens like a time-lapsed rose blooming with brilliant orange petals of flame.

The crowd is awash in the baptismal glow of erupting flame.

Evey watches the explosion, a star-burst of flaming debris searing against the night sky like fireworks.

The masses burst through the barricades with a euphoric frenzy.

The explosion begins to slowly die.

She looks down at the mask.

She smiles.

The fire fades and Evey turns, cradling the mask, and walks away.

FADE OUT: