The beginning of something I'm working on.

OPEN on weeds blowing in the wind. Large forests full of dead trees. devoid of wildlife. the ground is dry and sandy. Over the black branches, we see: a cluster of futuristic-looking cargo jets in a perfect V formation. cut to the inside of one of the jets. we see soldiers. various flags over uniforms. US, Russia, England, etc. different nationalities, different ethnicities.

we see a woman named Lane. GI Jane with a better haircut and a love for talking shit. next to her is a black man named Warde. tall, and built, thinks he's suave. Warde looks out the window at the dying environment. “How close do you think we are?” he asks. She responds mock-smugly “To the T-barrier, or you and I?”. “To the T-barrier.” “I don’t know, I’m not flying the damn helo.” “okay, what about me?” “oh, about three inches.” warde rolls his eyes.

the pilot says over the PA: approaching a T-barrier. everyone make sure your helmets are locked down TIGHT. everyone in the plane leans down and grabs their helmets, but they’re not regular military headgear: they’re complete glass enclosures. think army meets astronaut. they click them on to their suits and they form a perfect air seal.

they look out upon a huge green valley next to them, but there’s no trees: only massive jagged green crystals rising up from the ground. like quartz crystal clusters on steroids. the sight is alluring and poisonous.

Lane asks Warde: “how much do you think that valley is worth?” “more zeroes than i care to write down." he says. he asks "why, you want to go pick some Tiberium out of the dirt?”

“Italian Tiberium. it sounds extra valuable.” she replies.

“it sure does, seeing about how it’s the ONLY thing Italy makes now.”

Lane takes one last look at what used to Italy before the green crystal shore fades away to the Adriatic sea from the window. the helicopters are reflected in the water as we zoom forward in the direction of travel: Sarajevo.