Ah, the start of a new week. Full of promise. Mayhem. Murder. Assassins hell-bent on completing their mission. Spies on the trail of wayward strippers with suitcase nukes. That's right, you guessed it. Just another day in the life of ... NOWHERE GIRL.
Screened a wonderful film last night -- Al Pacino and Johnny Depp in DONNIE BRASCO. Damn, I forgot how good this one was. Also starring Michael Madson, Anne Heche, James Russo and a very young Paul Giamatti. Probably one of Pacino's last really great performances (up there with THE INSIDER). The great Mike Newell directed this true story of Depp as an undercover FBI agent in deep cover in Pacino's crew. Heartbreaking stuff, because, as you probably guessed, he gets in real deep, which affects his family, and, eventually ... oh, wait. Don't want to spoil the ending. If you like true-life mob stories, then this one's for you. Check it out. Two guns up ...
Onto today's joint from NOWHERE GIRL.
First up, we finish up stripper-on-the-lam Cherry Nation's scene with Peeler Mardo after she's been pestered by CIA agent Shag Holliday about her whereabouts ...
And then Shag contacts his operative at Langley, the lovely Lark ... because he wants to find out just what the heck is going on with his ex ...
INT. JUMBO’S CLOWN ROOM - NIGHT
Cherry hangs up. Looks at Peeler. Rolls her eyes.
That was your ex.
It was that obvious.
Hey. Universal language of love.
So he’s mad at you?
He was always mad at me.
A real sweetheart,
but overprotective much?
Always keeping tabs on me.
Knew every move I made.
INT. BUNGALOW - KITCHEN - NIGHT
Shag sits at the table with his snack.
Takes a pull on his longneck.
Punches another number on his cell.
INT. CIA HEADQUARTERS - NIGHT
A maze of dimly lit cubicles and workstations.
Despite the hour, the joint is abuzz
with OPERATIVES and TECHNICIANS.
A BLONDE OPERATIVE (25) takes the call at her desk.
Crosses her long, amazing legs. Leans back.
Holiday? What’s up? I thought you were --
Funny. Listen. I need you to check surveillance at LAX.
Something went down tonight,
and I need to know what happened.
Comin’ right up.
She WHEELS AROUND to a bank of nearby monitors.
Fingers CLACK-CLACK-CLACK across her keyboard.
The screens SPRING TO LIFE,
showing images at the airport.
BLONDE OPERATIVE (CONT’D)
Do you have any intel? Airline?
Not sure. Flight was going to Vegas.
The subject was supposed to be on it.
Who’s the subject?
The bipolar ex.
Don’t remind me.
Lark PUNCHES IN more information.
A list of airline flights and passenger manifests
FLY ACROSS her computer screen.
Here we go -- Cherry Nation,
Sky Blue, flight to Vegas,
departing at gate 115 at 9PM.
She WHIRLS AROUND in her chair,
goes back to the monitors.
Okay, let’s go back to say, 8:30.
Lark PUNCHES IT in.
Shows the airport bar.
The windows EXPLODING with GUN FIRE.
Oh, yeah -- that’s right.
I was briefed about this.
Jesus, I need more coffee.
What the fuck happened?
A suitcase nuke that was meant for
an Al Qaeda sleeper cell
was mistakenly given to the wrong person.
Do they say WHO?
Was supposed to be an undercover operative
from Homeland Security --
but they’re really C-6,
that’s just a cover.
They were acting as the broker
between the supplier and the cell.
What the fuck is C-6?
It’s a new black ops unit.
Very hush-hush. That’s all I know.
You didn’t hear it from me.
Shag stands. Starts pacing. Head reeling.
Cherry said someone gave her a briefcase by mistake.
SHE HAS THE NUKE.
FUCK. When did you last talk with her?
Just now. Shit.
Let me give you her cell number,
you can triangulate her position.
We’re supposed to back away from this one, Shag.
She’s my EX.
And I’m WATCHING HER KIDS.
Give me the number.