Monday, January 17, 2011
What Happens In DC, Stays In DC
Hey there, crime kids. Happy MLK day. I have a dream. Well, more like a nightmare ... because it's time once again to take a trip to the dark side, where your most violent fantasies become sins of the flesh, right here, where the hardboiled action is non-stop, at the coolest crime joint in cyberspace ... at That Killing Feeling.
In Chapter 30 of NOWHERE GIRLS, while Homeland Security agents Cherry Nation and April Street make their escape in a stolen FBI helicopter, assassin Irina Kolishinakov races to the airport to try and take them out as they try land ...
INT. FBI HEADQUARTERS - CLINT RUFF’S OFFICE - NIGHT
Clint dials a number. Takes a big sip of scotch. Listens.
I’ve delayed them a little bit. Happy?
INT. HONEY’S UNDERGROUND LAIR - OFFICE - CONTINUOUS
Honey sits at her desk. Feet up. Taps her Bluetooth.
Swirls her snifter of brandy.
As a fucking clam.
You realize how DANGEROUS this is?
Darling, it comes with the territory.
(takes a sip)
But you know that.
Don’t remind me.
And don’t forget --
what happens in DC, stays in DC --
INT. HELICOPTER - MOVING - NIGHT
April drives the chopper.
Cherry looks out the window.
We’ve gotta find a place to land, pronto.
But we’ll get to Hollywood faster
if we fly there --
Too dangerous. Every government agent
in the STATE is after us,
and this is an FBI chopper.
Sore thumb much?
(sees something, points)
Hey, look, up ahead -- Santa Monica airport.
We’ll land there --
You know, after this is over,
I think I’m gonna take a break.
Spend some time with the kids --
That is, if we can --
Trust me, sis.
We’re going to GET THEM BACK, okay?
(off her silence)
Now hold on.
I’m a little out of practice
landing one of these --
(stares at her, eyes bugging)
'A little out of practice?'
EXT. FBI SUV - MOVING - NIGHT
Max drives. Sunday talks on her cell.
You have their position? GOOD JOB.
We’re on our way, roger and OUT.
She CLICKS the phone shut.
They’re landing at Santa Monica airport.
We’ll cut off the perimeter, box ‘em in.
(picks up radio, CLICKS it on)
Attention, all units.
Suspects are landing at Santa Monica airport.
Get your asses over there
and seal off the area IMMEDIATELY.
ANGRY MALE VOICE (O.C.)
Copy that, Cargo. We’re ON OUR WAY --
EXCITED MALE VOICE (O.C.)
We’re SO there, dude.
Let’s catch us some PUSSY.
Snappin’ GYRO. Copy DAT, my MAN. OVER --
Sunday sighs. Looks out the window.
On behalf of all men everywhere,
I’d like to apologize for that
incredibly insensitive display
of macho bravado.
What are you talking about?
I say let’s get those fucking CUNTS.
INT. IRINA’S CAR - MOVING - NIGHT
She drives up the coast like a madwoman,
zipping around traffic. Looks at her GPS.
Punches buttons on the dash.
Looks at the coordinates.
I’ve got you in web,
said spider to fly --
EXT. SANTA MONICA AIRPORT - NIGHT
Deserted at this hour. And dark.
A few AIRPLANES dot the landscape.
A Department of Water and Power van sits idling.
The chopper appears in the sky.
INT. CHOPPER - MOVING - CONTINUOUS
April works the controls.
Squints in the darkness.
Must be a power-outage or something.
Descends onto the tarmac.
But it’s coming down TOO FAST.
Pulls back on the stick.
Slows it’s descent, rises a bit,
then PLUMMETS down.
YANKS the stick.
The girls get JERKED in their seats.
What the fuck are you DOING?
Stops. Hovers. Then lands slowly.
HITS the tarmac. BANG.
INT. CHOPPER - CONTINUOUS
The girls look at each other. EXHALE.
Sorry about that.
Been a couple of years. Bit rusty.
Almost pissed my pants.
(looks out the window)
Check out the van.
Incognito ahoy --
EXT. SANTA MONICA AIRPORT - RUNWAY - CONTINUOUS
The girls RACE OVER to the van.
See a DWP ELECTRICIAN (40’s),
a chubby regular guy,
sitting in the driver’s seat.
He pours coffee from a thermos into a cup.
Looks up at them, startled.
Evenin.’ Can I help you ladies?
They WHIP out their pistols.
We’re commandeering your vehicle.
He DROPS the cup on his lap.
Spilling coffee on his pants.
(looks at them)
Hey. Wait a minute.
I saw you two on the news.
You’re those TERRORISTS
who crashed THE WHITE HOUSE.
Cherry and April CLICK their safeties.
We were FRAMED, asshole --
Step OUT OF THE VEHICLE, NOW.
Don’t shoot, don’t shoot.
Wait a minute.
Wouldn’t it better if HE drove?
Yeah. Great idea.
(to DWP Guy)
Open the back door and let us in.
Okay, okay. Just don’t shoot.
(mumbles, to himself)
Maybe I can get some overtime for this --