A trio of scuba divers surface amongst choppy waters. Each diver has their name stickered to their helmet, otherwise their wetsuits and snorkel pieces obscure their identities.

Cyrus Bates:
Do you two see anything?

MEE6 and ALEX remove their goggles and begin visually examining the perimeter but see nothing but empty ocean and shorelines in the distance.

ALEX:
Nothing by my calculations, Blue Eagle.

Bates slams the top of the water with an open palm.

Cyrus Bates:
Oof! We’ve been duped! There’s nothing here.

They float there for a second.

MEE6:
Did you get the coordinates right?

Bates stares a hole through MEE6.

MEE6:
I mean, of course you did, rank.

Bates thinks about what their next move is. He knows he’s running out of time and must come up with results soon. It’s at that exact moment when he notices something floating by him.

Cyrus Bates:
Gotcha! Look at what we have here!

Bates holds up a pair of XXXL leopard print men’s underwear, heavily worn of course. Cyrus sniffs it like a predatory wolverine in the wild.

ALEX:
What do you think, chief?

Cyrus floats stoically, looking off towards the sunset while still holding the pair of boxers.

Cyrus Bates:
I think... I think we’ve got to take to the skies. Head to shore. Prep the copter. I’ve sniffed a hot trail we gotta follow.

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