Friday, January 11, 2013
Till Death Do Us Part
Hey there, crime kids. Happy Friday. 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 12 of NOWHERE GIRL, stripper with a suitcase nuke Cherry Nation holes up in a dive bar on the Sunset Strip and calls her ex, Shag Holliday, who's watching her kids while she's away, and almost reveals the mess she's in. But what she doesn't realize is that Shag is a CIA operative, and he gets on the phone with Langley and discovers the truth, much to his horror ...
EXT. VENICE BEACH BUNGALOW - NIGHT
A lovely 100-year-old Craftsman
on a leafy walkway street.
Lit by old-fashioned lampposts.
Steps away from the sand.
INT. BUNGALOW - BEDROOM - CONTINUOUS
Two cute little GIRLS (5) and (7)
INT. BUNGALOW - KITCHEN - NIGHT
A MAN rummages in the fridge.
Looking for a snack.
He pulls out his cell phone.
PUNCHES a number.
Meet SHAG HOLIDAY (35), who if you remember,
is the person we heard Cherry speaking to
at the top of the story.
Buff and cut.
Too good-looking to be
a shower head salesman.
Which is why he is actually a CIA operative.
Oh, and he’s also Cherry’s recent ex.
He RIPS off a turkey leg. Listens.
Hey, it’s me.
INT. JUMBO’S CLOWN ROOM - NIGHT
A seedy stripper hangout on the Sunset Strip.
Weird psychobilly on the jukebox.
A sign reeds NO TOP, NO SERVICE.
Cherry sits in a booth with Peeler.
Both have the remnants of
burgers and coffee on the table.
Cherry talks on her cell.
Ohmigod, I forgot to call you.
I just wanted to make sure
you were -- okay.
Are you checking up on me AGAIN?
I’m sorry, I didn’t mean -- it’s been --
(looks at Peeler)
Quite an evening.
You could say that.
What, your flight get delayed?
There was a -- luggage incident.
A 'luggage incident?'
What happened? Are you okay?
Someone gave me a briefcase
by mistake and then split.
Then it turned out
that some people want it --
She looks at Peeler.
He shrugs. Go for it.
Someone gave you a briefcase -- by MISTAKE?
What have you gotten yourself into?
Are these people chasing you now?
No, no, no.
I’m -- delivering it to them.
Then I’m on a plane, promise.
Gotta be at the club tomorrow.
How are the girls?
Did you tuck them in?
The girls are fine.
Don’t deflect, Cherry.
I need to know what you --
NO, YOU DON’T.
This is MY life, Shag.
Thank you for watching the kids,
I owe you one. But what we had is OVER,
and you have NO RIGHT
to give me the third degree.
I’ll call you tomorrow, BYE.
INT. JUMBO’S CLOWN ROOM - CONTINUOUS
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 - CONTINUOUS
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.
Holiday? What’s up?
I thought you were --
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?
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.
Cherry said someone gave her
a briefcase by mistake.
SHE HAS THE NUKE.
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.
Till death do us part, huh?