Leave The Driving To Us

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In Chapter 51 of BABY HEISTER, rogue cop Flint Cole and master heister Doc Hazard head to the marina with Doc's stash, stolen back from the cops, but get stuck in traffic. Meanwhile, robbery/homicide chief Darryl Rooker, with help from the FBI, track down their location ...


INT. FLINT’S CROWN VIC - MOVING - DAY
Flint Drives.
Cigarette dangling on his lip.

Doc stares out the
passenger-side window.
Sullen.

FLINT
After all this time,
we’re finally partners.
Life sure is strange, huh?

DOC
It’ll be a cold day in Wasilla
when we become partners.

Flint sees his exit.
Hits the turn signal.

Starts making the turn
onto the off-ramp.

DOC
Don’t take Lincoln.
You’ll get stuck in traffic.
Ocean Avenue’s better.

FLINT
This is more direct.
sit back and
leave the driving to us.

EXT. FREEWAY OFF RAMP - LINCOLN AVENUE - DAY
Flint’s Crown Vic
turns off the ramp,
heads south on Lincoln.

Gets immediately caught
in traffic.

IN THE CAR
Doc smiles.
Shakes his head.

DOC
Good one, partner.

FLINT
Shut the fuck up.

DOC
What’s the hurry?
It’s not like we have
twenty million in
the back seat.

Flint glares at him.
His phone RINGS.
He picks up.

FLINT
This is Cole --

INTERCUT WITH:
INT. TASK FORCE HEADQUARTERS - CONTINUOUS
Darryl Rooker sits at
his desk on the phone.

Costello stands next to him.
Fists clenched.

DARRYL
Any news?
You see them yet?

FLINT
I’m right behind ‘em,
but there’s too much traffic.
onna stay in pursuit until
they get off the freeway.

Darryl turns, looks at --

ANOTHER COP SITTING AT A NEARBY DESK
Wearing headphones, listening
on electronic tracking equipment.

He nods.
Gives a thumbs-up.

DARRYL
Grimaces in the phone.

DARRYL
Okay, just don’t
lose sight of them.

FLINT
You got it.
I’ll call you back
when I get the fuckers.

They both CLICK
their phones shut.

A STERN-LOOKING FBI AGENT
In a sharp suit appears
next to Headphone Cop.

STERN-LOOKING FBI AGENT
We cool?

HEADPHONE COP
Ice-cold.

Darryl comes into frame.
Anxious.

DARRYL
But that wasn’t long enough to --

STERN-LOOKING FBI AGENT
Not with your antiquated
piece-of-shit call-tracing.

But with OUR state-of-the-art
satellite def-jam, we can
triangulate his exact location
through his cell phone.
(to Headphones)
And the winner IS?

HEADPHONE COP
(reading the screen)
They’re on Lincoln Avenue
in Santa Monica,
heading south --
(smiles)
And it looks like
they’re stuck in traffic.

DARRYL
(to Costello)
Send as many units
as we’ve got.
We’re finally gonna
GET this fucker --