Fly The Friendly Skies

Happy Tuesday, crime slicksters. It's time once again to take a trip to the dark side, where the girls are hot, the drinks are cold, and the hardboiled-pulp-noir action is non-stop, right here, at the coolest crime joint in cyberspace ... at That Killing Feeling.

In Chapter 32 of BABY HEISTER, after shooting and killing the motorcycle cop, Jo pulls the hearse off the freeway into a gas station in a nasty part of town, where she runs afoul of a gang of pint-sized gang bangers. Meanwhile, Doc, Kelsey, Dusty and Reno negotiate fitting themselves plus their bags of loot in a charter plane bound for LAX ...


EXT. FREEWAY - DAY
The hearse turns off at the next exit.
Goes down the ramp.

EXT. EAST LA - INTERSECTION - DAY
A REALLY shitty part of town.
Crumbling apartment blocks.

The hearse pulls into
an abandoned gas station.

INT. HEARSE - DAY
Jo slips the gun in her pocket.
Opens the car door.

EXT. ABANDONED GAS STATION - DAY
She gets out. Looks around.
Not a soul to be seen.

Sees a pay phone. Walks over to it.
Lifts the receiver. Listens. Dead.

SNEERING GANG-BANGER (O.C.)
Hey, lady. Where’s the funeral?

She turns, sees a pair of
THIRTEEN-YEAR-OLD HISPANIC KIDS
holding switchblades.
They FLIP them open menacingly.

LAUGHING GANG-BANGER
Looks like someone got lost or somethin.’

SNEERING GANG-BANGER
What you doin’ in this neighborhood?
This is OUR territory.

JO
I had a -- little problem with the police.

LAUGHING GANG-BANGER
You hear DAT? She had a
little trouble with the five-oh?

SNEERING GANG-BANGER
Well, now you have a little trouble with US.
Give us your WALLET, bitch.

JO
(WHIPS OUT her gun)
The TROUBLE involved SHOOTING A COP.
Now get the FUCK out of my face
before I BLOW A HOLE in your REFRIED BRAINS.

SNEERING GANG-BANGER
Holy SHIT. Don’t shoot, lady.

LAUGHING GANG-BANGER
Yo, chill. We were just fuckin’ with ya --

JO
(CLICKS the safety)
Get your CHALUPAS the
FUCK out of my FACE. NOW.

They RUN. Jo watches them go.
Thinking. A light bulb POPS.

JO
Jack Cotton --

EXT. PALM SPRINGS INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT - DAY
Gorgeous, beautiful mountains in the distance.
A small, white circular building
with passenger ramps around it like an octopus.
Planes taxi on the runways.

EXT. CHARTER FLIGHT HANGER - DAY
A smallish building for private jets.
Parked in front is a PIPER CUB.

One of those tiny planes used for
crop dusting and pulling banners across the sky.

Standing next to it is BRUB (50’s),
a grizzled pilot.

He looks at Doc, Kelsey, Reno and Dusty.
Then the duffle bags.

BRUB
Plane’s too small.
Jo said it would only be two people.

DOC
We had a change of plan.

DUSTY
(points at Reno)
What if I sit on his lap?

RENO
Yeah. We could squeeze in real tight.

BRUB
Too much weight.
I can take two of you, plus the bags.
That’s it.

KELSEY
(to Doc)
Shit. What are we gonna do?

BRUB
Tell ya what. It only takes
fifteen minutes to get to LAX.
Why don’t I take two of you first,
then come back?

DOC
That means we’d have to wait half an hour --

BRUB
Seeing as how we go way back and all --
I’ll only charge half-price
for the second trip.

DOC
It’s a deal.
Kelsey and me will go first, with the bags.

RENO
Wait a minute.
I thought we were splitting up
the take on the plane.

DUSTY
That’s right.
If something happens,
we’re shit outta luck.

DOC
Tell ya what.
We’ll take one bag, leave one with you.

RENO
But who says each bag has
the same amount of dough in it?

KELSEY
Each bag has about a half-million in it.
What’s the fucking problem?
Doc’s giving you a lift, AND
letting you stay at his loft. Chill OUT.
We’ve gotta get the fuck OUTTA here
instead of wasting our time
standing around ARGUING.

DUSTY
Broad’s right.

RENO
Okay, okay.

DOC
(nods)
See you at LAX.

Dusty nods. Brub opens the door.
Doc picks up a bag. Stuffs it in.
He and Kelsey get in. Then Brub.

The plane’s propellers start WHIRRING.
Starts taxiing down the runway.

RENO
C’mon.
Let’s go see what kinda grub they got.

DUSTY
Fuck that. I could use a drink --