Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Hooray For Bollywood
Hey there, crime kids. Happy fucking Hump Day. You know that means, right? 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 18 of NOWHERE GIRL, CIA agent Shag Holiday tries to track down his ex, stripper-with-a-suitcase-nuke Cherry Nation. Meanwhile, Bel Air Security guards head over to the terrorist's hideout ... and Homeland Security agent April Street gets caught in the rain and commandeers a Middle-Eastern taxi cab driver.
INT. CORVETTE - MOVING - NIGHT
Shag drives into the heart of the Sunset Strip.
Talks on his hands-free Bluetooth.
She hung up on me.
INT. CIA HEADQUARTERS - CUBICLE - CONTINUOUS
Lark turns away from her laptop.
Touches her headpiece.
You might say that.
You blew your cover.
Yeah. It was stupid, I know.
I just --
(looks at the dashboard)
I’m getting close.
I’d love to get some backup.
You know I can’t do that, Shag.
The boss gave strict orders --
this one’s off-limits.
It’ll raise red flags that go
way beyond me losing my job.
Apparently the guy that runs C-6
has A LOT of pull.
Then connect me to C-6.
I don’t have the number.
Black ops? Hello?
Lark, give yourself some credit.
You told me you could gather ANY intel.
I’ll call you when I have something.
That’s my girl.
(looks out the window)
I’m here. Gotta go.
You’ve never met Cherry.
EXT. BELL AIR SECURITY - ENTRANCE - NIGHT - AT THAT MOMENT
A SECURITY SQUAD CAR pulls out of the building.
INT. SECURITY SQUAD CAR - MOVING - CONTINUOUS
The DRIVER turns to the SECURITY GUARD
sitting next to him.
Weatherman says it’s gonna rain.
Oh, it’s gonna rain, alright.
Meet RENNY QUICK (30’s).
Big and burly, former Special Forces.
Retired early due to injuries on the job.
My knee is fucking killing me.
It’s DEFINITELY gonna rain.
EXT. SUNSET BOULEVARD - NIGHT
A light RAIN starts falling.
April stands across the street
from the Crazy Horse.
Watching the swarm of COPS,
the ambulance. A group of GAWKERS.
Shit, it’s raining.
I need wheels, pronto.
A YELLOW CAB pulls up to the curb
in front of her.
Two DRUNK PARTY GIRLS spill out.
Ask and ye shall receive.
MESSY PARTY GIRL
(to the cabbie)
Keep the change!
WASTED PARTY GIRL
(tugs on Messy’s arm)
C’mon, let’s GO. It’s RAINING.
They skitter away down the sidewalk,
laughing. April goes to the cab.
Opens the passenger-side door. Gets in.
INT. YELLOW CAB - CONTINUOUS
The CABBIE, Middle-Eastern,
sporting a turban and a giant mustache,
turns and looks at her, startled.
I’m soddy, meess, but eye’m on call.
I cannot pick yoo up.
April WHIPS OUT her ID and gun.
Federal agent, Homeland Security.
Get in the back seat.
I WILL NOT. This is RACIAL PROFILING.
I am AMERICAN CITIZEN.
This has nothing to do with you, Bollywood.
It’s a matter of national security.
GET IN THE BACK SEAT, NOW.
You cannot DO THIS.
I know my RIGHTS.
April PISTOL-WHIPS him, CRACK.
He goes out like a light.
She GRABS him,
THROWS him in the back seat.
Makes a face.
Why does everybody I meet tonight