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Benson Finds Balance  


by  


Mariska Hargitay




INT. NYPD SPECIAL VICTIMS UNIT – NIGHT




Olivia Benson, her face etched with weariness, sits at her desk, reviewing a file. The room is dimly lit, the only sound the hum of computers and the occasional distant siren.




BENSON  


Another dead end.




She pushes the file aside, frustration evident in her sharp movements. She picks up another file, a thicker one, marked “Confidential.” She begins to read, a growing unease creeping into her expression.




BENSON  


This doesn't add up.




She flips through pages, stopping at a photograph — a blurry image of a clandestine meeting. The faces are obscured by shadows, but the location is identifiable — a secure CIA facility.




BENSON  


CIA involvement? In a simple drug bust?




She pulls out her phone, scrolling through encrypted messages. Her fingers fly across the screen, accessing secure databases. She pulls up a series of seemingly unrelated cases — all with inconsistencies. They all connect to one specific person.




BENSON  


(to herself)  


Same M.O., different victims. Different boroughs, different detectives. This is too much of a coincidence.




She notices a tiny detail in each report: a barely visible symbol — an almost imperceptible marking resembling a stylized "MS-13" gang tag, but far more refined. She zooms in on the symbol on her monitor.




BENSON  


(whispering)  


MS-13? That's not right. This is... cleaner.




A chilling realization dawns on her. She leans back in her chair, the gravity of her discovery weighing heavily upon her.




BENSON  


This isn't just a drug ring. This is a cover-up.




She grabs her jacket, her eyes blazing with a determined fury. The shadows in the room seem to deepen, mirroring the suspicion that now consumes her.




FADE OUT.




INT. ABANDONED WAREHOUSE – NIGHT




Dust motes dance in the single shaft of moonlight. Empty crates and discarded machinery litter the space. OLIVIA BENSON stands before MARK JENNINGS, a former NYPD detective.




BENSON  


Mark.




Jennings continues cleaning a firearm.




BENSON  


It's Olivia. We need to talk.




JENNINGS  


Olivia. Didn't think I'd see you again.




BENSON  


I found something. Something you might understand.




She lays a folder on the workbench. Jennings examines crime scene photos marked with a tiny symbol.




JENNINGS  


(whispering)  


The Serpent’s Tooth.




BENSON  


You know this?




JENNINGS  


I knew them. Thought they were gone.




BENSON  


These cases were all closed. Different boroughs, different detectives. But they all have this mark.




JENNINGS  


A sophisticated operation. Internal only. But even I never saw the bigger picture.




BENSON  


I think it’s a cover-up. A big one.




JENNINGS  


Then we're going to need more than a magnifying glass, Detective.




He looks at Benson, a flicker of his old fire rekindled.




CONTINUED




INT. LEWIS'S APARTMENT – NIGHT




WILLIAM LEWIS, sharp, impeccably dressed, sits cleaning glasses. OLIVIA BENSON enters cautiously.




BENSON  


Lewis.




LEWIS  


And what makes you think I'd offer help? Last time, you tried to put me away.




BENSON  


Things have changed. Information about the Serpent's Tooth.




LEWIS  


That’s a name I haven’t heard in years.




BENSON  


They're not a myth. I need someone who understands their methods, their connections...the CIA’s dark side.




LEWIS  


Unlikely alliance, Detective.




BENSON  


We both want justice, even if we define it differently.




LEWIS  


Justice... a relative term. Fine. This is strictly business. No betrayal.




BENSON  


Agreed.




They share a tense look, a silent acknowledgment of their uneasy truce.




FADE OUT.




INT. ABANDONED WAREHOUSE – NIGHT




OLIVIA BENSON stands, addressing RAY WALKER, DR. ANNA REED, and SERGEANT MARCUS JONES.




BENSON  


I know this is unconventional. Hell, it's illegal.




WALKER  


Unconventional is my middle name.




REED  


As long as it involves less paperwork.




JONES  


I'm here to take down the Serpent's Tooth.




BENSON  


Precisely. We're building something new. NuBreed Justice League.




WALKER  


(skeptical)  


Sounds like a comic book.




REED  


It's about time we had one that actually works.




JONES  


I'm in.




WALKER  


Count me in. But if this goes south, I'm blaming you.




BENSON  


Agreed. Lewis has key information.




She spreads files and maps.




BENSON  


The Serpent's Tooth isn't a myth; they're powerful. We need to be smarter, faster, more ruthless. We're not cops anymore.




FADE OUT.




INT. ABANDONED CITY HALL ANNEX – NIGHT




The team moves cautiously through the dilapidated building, flashlights cutting through darkness.




BENSON  


Remember the intel Lewis gave us? The back office, third floor.




They navigate the hallways. Reed scans a wall.




REED  


Bingo. Hidden room.




Jones breaches the wall, revealing an untouched office with files.




JONES  


Damn. This is a goldmine.




BENSON  


Government sanctioned... human experimentation. Proof of Serpent's Tooth's connections to the highest levels.




A distant SIREN WAIL. They freeze.




WALKER  


We need to move. Now.




They grab key files, escape through a back window.




CUT TO




INT. SECURE WAREHOUSE – NIGHT




Benson, Walker, Reed, and Jones review the files.




BENSON  


MS-13. We thought it was just a gang.




REED  


These files... government funding. Project Nightingale.




WALKER  


Nightingale? Never heard of it.




JONES  


They used MS-13 as cover. Human experimentation, weaponizing street gangs...




BENSON  


This is about control. Testing weapons, social measures, creating chaos to maintain power.




REED  


The scale... far-reaching.




(ENDING)




The team sits, silent and tense. Benson’s hand trembles as she sorts the final documents.




BENSON  


We have enough. Names, dates, proof. But real justice... that's another battle.




JONES  


You willing to take this all the way?




BENSON  


(with conviction)  


We came this far. We finish it.




REED  


We need the media. Someone outside the system.




WALKER  


It’s risky. They’ll come for us.




BENSON  


Let them come. The truth deserves daylight.




Benson looks out the window into the city — dark but alive with possibilities.




BENSON  


(softly, to herself)  


Balance isn’t about peace. It’s about choosing which truths to fight for.




FADE OUT.




END OF PILOT SOS https://www.rottentomatoes.com/celebrity/pablo-schreiber

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