16 Blocks by Richard Wenk January 2004BLACKNESS Too inky and deep to see much. A room of some kind. And the faint glow of an alarm clocks LED reading 6:16 From another room a PHONE RINGS. Muffled TALKING then... BOOM! A door EXPLODES OPEN, LIGHT pouring inte the, smal room revealing a WIRY RUSSIAN MAN asleep on a cot. His WILD HATRED BROTHER shakes him awake. EXT. BROOKLYN STREET - DAWN The Russian Brothers exit their shit-hole walk-up dressed in paint splattered work clothes and clutching mugs of instant Coffee. They get into a Black Econoline Van and drive off... EXT. SUPPLY STORE The Black Van idling next to a loading dock, RADIO BLARING. INT. BLACK VAN The Russians wait, eyes on the Delivery Door. Cold and bored, Wiry shakes out a line of crystal meth on the console and SWoRTS it. A STOCKY, well-dressed MAN emerges from the side entrance, walks Go’ the Van and drops a, large paper bag onto the drivers lap. Speaks to them in Russian then disappears back inside. Wild Haix opens the bag and removes TWO TECH-9 HANDGUNS and FOUR CLIPS of ammunition. Hands them to his brother who begins loading them. Wild Hair JERKS THE VAN onto a Brooklyn Street. ‘The Van swallowed up by morning traffic... INT. APARTMENT 4D - SAME TIME Looking at the front dgor. Chained, dead bolted and police locked, Nothing out of the ordinary. Except the CAT in the FOYER that stares at the door, mesmerized at something we can’t see. It just stares. And stares. Then suddenly the fuz en it’s back stands on end and it BOLTS just as... BOOM! The door EXPLODES inward, BATTERING RAM | DISTINTEGRATING the door jam, HINGES FLYING every which way as Police BURST inside, WHAPONS DRAWN, Lead team FREEZING, guns dropping to their’ side. CAMERA drifts ‘to the ground toTHREE shirtless DRUG COURIERS sprawled around a_card table covered with scales, baking soda and baggies. “Elaborate jailhouse tattoos ihterrupted with well placed bullet holes. INT. APARTMENT 4D - WIDER Peeling wallpaper and gated windows covered in tin foil. Narcotics Officers CANNOVA, PEDERSON and BRIGGS, all mid 30's and vital, survey the carnage as SECOND TEAM sweeps the rest of the place. Cannova kneels down next, to the BODY propped up like a tailor’s dumiy against the wall and checks the body temperature. CANNOVA Couple hours, (strands) He’s cleaning house fellas. Gotta move now. (turns to Pederson) Who's downstairs we don’t need? PEDERSON unclips a radio from his belt. PEDERSON That's easy. INT. APARTMENT HALLWAY Both TEAMS huddle outside the apartment, some have handkerchiefs under their noses. From up the stairs limps JACK MOSLEY. Mid-40's, out of shape, face flushed from climbing the two flights. A slight herniated limp to his gate. Cannova pulls him inside the apartment. CANNOVA I need you to baby sit this until Uniforms get here. Don’t leave until it’s sealed: The hard-bodied cop then turns and herds the others towards the stairs. Jack stands inside the apartment as the SOUND of both TEAMS dissipate down the stairs. He takes out a handkerchief, covers his nose and steps over one of the bodies. Goes around the room checking the cabinets. Finally finds a bottle of Cutty Sark under the sink. Flops down, with it on a decomposing couch, ‘pulls DAILY NEWS from his back pocket and begins his wait.EXT. FIFTH PRECINCT ~ EARLY MORNING Aging pre-war walk up on the boarder of Chinatown and Little aly. INT. PRECINCT LOBBY ONTFORMS, PAA’s and a few CIVILIANS looking for justice. Jack walks in past the TS (Telephone and Sign-Out) Desk heading for the stairs, slightly Duzzed. Passing che waist Righ Sérgeants Desk manned by a’Uniformed SERGEANT SERGEANT Big Jack’s in the house... Hey the Loo’s looking for you. ANTI-CRIME DIVISTON - MORNING Fluorescent-lit room with poor ventilation and rows of government-issue metal des: All of which are filled with OPS typing 5’s (case reports), taking statements or interviewing witnesses and perps. LOUD and CHAOTIC. GRACE, a large Hispanic woman and the Units PAA (Police Administrative Assistant), fields calls at a reception desk. Jack saunters over and leans in close. JACK When are you going to run away with me Gracie? Grace reaches into her top drawer and slides a box of Tic Tacs towards Jack, never looking up. GRACE, How's Thursday looking for ya. JACK Bad. Got a colonoscopy scheduled. anytime after that. GRACE Sergeant Cannova called in. twice. Wondered where you've been. Needs you to write up a wire request. (hands him a paper) Them’s the partictlars. Said to make sure you put the right dates on this one. Jack ignores the remark and pops a breath mint. JACK He say when they needed it?GRACE Said you can get it signed on your way in tomorzow. Jack's relieved. Stretches. JACK Where does the time go... GRACE And the Lieutenant's looking for you, Been up twice already. Said to find him right away. Jack eyes the clock above her. 7:54 INT, THIRD FLOOR HALLWAY LIEZUTENANT KINCAID, young, freshly laundered and all attitude * pops ug the, stairs’ and down the hall in his crisp blue FORM. Strides into Anti-Crime. Jack slips out of the COFFEE ROOM and down the stairs like a + kid without a hall pass. * PRECINCT LOBBY - MORNING Jack stands behind SEVERAL other COPS waiting to sign out, wishing the line to move faster. Looking into the bullpen with its OVERWORKFD COPS and the incessant RINGING of phones. Jack's eyes drifting to an ELDERLY CHINESE WOMAN, sitting alone ona scarred mahogany bench, Clutching some personal belongings, face numb. A sudden widow. ee She's escorted by some DETECTIVES to an interview room, no pae seeing PAGES of ner dog eared photo elbum slip behind the nch. Jack looks away, walks up to the sign-out desk, grabs the pen... then drops it. INT. BULLPEN Jack digs the album pages out from behind the bench and calls a UNTFORM over.” Hands ‘them to hin, pointing to the interview foom. Steps back into the lobby and walks back to che TS | desk, reaches for the pen... when another hand snatches it away. LIBUTENANT KINCAID stands there holding the pen. * KINCAID Grace tell you to find me?JACK Don’t remember. Been dealing with a ton of shit. Kincaid barely hides his disdain. Holds out a foldez. KINCAID Get this guy from lock-up and take him to Ceptre Street. DA needs him ASAP. He’s got to be in front of a Grand Jury before ten. JACK I’m off the clock, Loo- KINCAID You sign that sheet? Jack wants to kick himself. JACK Ron't you have sone regular mutt doin’ this? KINCAID Can't find him. JACK C’mon Loo, I’ve been on all night. Give it to Cibelli or Meadows. They're on Tight duty. KINCAID | Cibelli and Meadows are busy doing police work. This is a nothing assignment Jack. One guess why the Captain picked you. JACK You were too busy? KINCAID Fuck you, Were up to me I’d have you driving blood samples to state ab or reorganizing the filing cabinets for the gambling squad. Kincaid slaps the folder into Jack’s hand, checks his watch. KINCAID (contd) A hundred and eighteen minutes to take this hemorrhoid sixteen blocks. Even you can handle this one. HOLDING CELLS - PRECINCT BASEMENT Massive steel bars set in turn of the century cinder block sit at the end of a long concrete hallway.A caged-in Watch Room is to the left, Behind it sits @ jail cellS and a holding tank. Jack walks to the window but there’s no one behind it. Bangs on the cage. JACK Yo! A CORRECTIONS ORFICER, bloated and bored looking, shuffles out of a back toilet buckling nis pants. CORRECTIONS OFFICER Excuse me for taxing a shit. Jack shoves the pick up slip through a slot in the cage without a word. © The Officer grabs it and waddles back towards the cells. Waiting Jack flips open the folder. Edward Bunker. Underneath a long list of arrests and dates. 8 and Bs mostly, All petty shit. Just a lot of it.” CLANGING of the steel door opening makes Jack tum. The Corrections Officer Slides his paper back through the Slot. CORRECTIONS OFFICER (cont'd) come back in an hour. JACK Hour? what for? INT. CELL BLOCK The thick steel door of cell number 6 rolls open and reveals EDDIE BUNKER, fzinge player and all around fuck up sitting in hig undervear. Mid 20's, he appears quite comfortable like Ss. CORRECTIONS OFFICER (0S) Supposed to wear a suit when he Leaves. Jack looks to Eddie. EDDIE Grey one. Two buttons, cuffs on the pants. JACK And? CORRECTIONS OFFICER Not here yet. Jack walks over to Eddie. wack Get dressed. Eddie hesitates.EDDIE . i’m supposed to have a suit, It was part of the arrangement: Jerks Eddie to his feet. JACK New arrangement. Cause I’m not waiting an hour for a fucking grey suit. CELL BLOCK - MINUTES LATER Eddie steps out of the cell in his street clothes. Clown sized jeans, Hilfiger polo shirt and Korean sneakers, He clutches a batty School Composition notebook in one hand and has a look of grave disappointment. EDDIE _ That suit’s kinda important to me. Jack ignores Eddie and CUFFS him. A WIZENED FACE pushes his head against the bars of the opposite cell and looks pleadingly at Eddie. FACE. You teke the oid tady right? Ts that it, kid? The old lady? Eddie shrugs as Jack pulls him down the tomb-like hallway. FACE, (cont/d) What’s the ANSWER! PRECINCT LOBBY - MORNING Jack signs out a vehicle then pushes Eddie towards the double doors. “Mixing in with UNIFORMS filing out in pairs to start their shifts. 3 FRESH-FACED UNIFORM going against the flow, presses his way inside, suit bag over his shoulder. Eddie pulls up, about to Say something but Jack yanks him out the door, Eddie looking back as his suit disappears into a sea of blue... EXT. FIFTH PRECINCT ~ BAXTER STREET The cure jammed with Black and whites and unmarked Police cars. Jack pulls Eddie down the sidewalk, checking key tag against license plates. Eddie noticing the hitch in Jack’s walk. EDDIE Got a little limp there.Jack keeps walking in stony silence, the shrunken, blood vessels in his head starting to throb, Unlocks the back door of a crap-brown Impala and shoves Eddie’s head down and through the door, INT. IMPALA Standard issue, with a sliding fiberglass partition separating front from back, which is open. Eddie settles in. EDDIE These cars never change. Same Grive shaft hump in the middle. Same smell. Pinesol and wet dog. Jack pops the car in gear throwing Eddie back against the seat before he can finish. EXT. BAXTER STREET Jack hangs a right and lurches into the morning rush hour traffic. INT. IMPALA Jack flips down the visor and weaves the car towards West Broadway Sneaks 2 look at Eddie in the rearview. Kid scribbling something in his book. Cutting cars off trying to make the light. Which he doesn’t. Gridlock at Baxter and West, Broadway puts the Impala at a dead stop. The LED clock on the dash reading 8:06 They sit in silence for a minute. Eddie's mind whirring away. Leans forward. EDDIE | You're driving along in a hurricane. You pass a bus stop with three, people waiting there. an O14 Lady who!'s"about to die, your best friend who saved your life once and the woman of your dreams. You only have room to take one. What do you do? Jack TURNS UP THE RADIO pretending he didn’t hear it. EDDIE (cont’d) It's an ancient question that’s supposed to tell you what kind of person you are inside. beat) ino do you take?Jack BITS THE ACCELERATOR and hangs a sharp left down a small alley. Weaving around delivery trucks and sanitation bins, tossing Eddle back and forth across the seat. Cuts across ane PARKING LOT In and around COMMUTERS pulling in. Getting familiar waves from the ATTENDANTS as Jack maneuvers the car onto... EXT. MULBERRY STREET - MORNING awnings being unfurled, pushcarts line the curb. _HEAVESET MEN in Bermudas’s and gold chains set up folding chairs outside mobbed-up restaurants. The Impala slipping into traffic. INT. IMPALA Jack looks back at Eddie through the mirror, the kid still waiting for an answer. EDDIE. The old lady, right? |I mean she won't make it if you leave her. But that sounds obvious. Kid's not going give up. vack I wouldn't drive in a hurricane so it doesn’t apply to me. EDDIE It’s hypothetical. Pretend. JACK I don’t have to. So shut up. EDDIE Okay. (eat) They say your soul’s not intact until you know the answer. Eddie sits back and looks cut the window, pondering the estion. Oblivious to his circumstances. Which bugs Jack oz some reason. gacK What'd they give you? EDDIE Give me?10. JACK Must/ve cut yourself a sweet deal Sittin’ there all comfy like. EDDIE, Oh, Dropped the charges. And a suit, Which I didn’t get thanks to you. JACK That’s cheap to rat to a grand jury. EDDIE It’s all T wanted, And I’m not a rat. T’'m a conduit of information. That’s what they said. JACK Yeah? Well if it looks like a rat and squeals like a rat... Eddie thinks for a minute. EDDIE Could be a Vole. They look like vats from far away. Then you, get closer and you realize it isn’t one. Jack stares at the kid then pushes through a yellow light taking a right onto Lafayette. Never noticing the Black Econoline Van staying close behind them. EXT. LAFAYETTE STREET - EARLY MORNING PEDESTRIANS in rush mode fill the sidewalk. Bodegas roll out arts of fruit and greens. Grill work is rolled up as businesses OPEN. INT. IMPALA Jack looking impatient. Byes searching the sidewalks for something. Eddie SES the top of a MASSIVE GRANITE BUILDING 12 blocks away. . EDDIE ‘That it? Jack ignores him, Spots what he’s looking for. EDDIE (cont'd) Tf you knew all the crazy scuff that happened to me in the past. couple months... See I just never watched for the signs. Never knew to look for ‘em. (MORE }i. EDDIE (cont'd) Then when T started, everything fell into place. Bven when it made no sense. Like yesterday. All bad. (peat) But I’m right where I’m supposed to be, “ou believe that? Jack double parks the Impala on the west side of the street and shuts off the engine. SBCK, I believe life’s too fucking long and guys like you make it even longer. Starts to get out. EDDIE Where ya going? Eddie looks across the street at the Liquor Store then to the dashboard clock. 8:09 EDDIE (cont'd) T,got an appointment after court. Gotta be there by noon. JACK You'll get there. Eddie watches Jack fumble around in his pockets for some cash. EDDIE You're not the regular guy who does this, are you? JACK First time. fow am I doing? EDDIE I don’t think you're supposed to stop. JACK No? Gee, T better check my witness escort handbook. Oops, I forgot it. Oh well... Jack gets out. Leans back in. JACK (cont'd) When you get to the courthouse you can fill out one of those cards and fate, your travel experience with the NYPD. SLAMS the door,12. EXT. LAFAYETTE STREET Jack LOCKS the Impala and crosses the busy street into a Liquor store. The Black Econoline Van drifting past and disappearing around the corner. INT. CHINES® LIQUOR STORE gmall and cramped with too many aisles and too many stacked boxes.” Jack limping towards the back and grabbing a sott ie of Puerto Rican Rum and a bag of nuts. INT. IMPALA Eddie stares out his window then checks the dashboard clock. Edgy all of a sudden. EDDIE. He’s not the right guy. Not sensing the Black Econoline Van pulling up directly. behind the Impala, throwing 2 shadow through the back window. INT, CHINESE LIQUOR STORE Jack moving to the register. A middle-aged CHINESE MAN and his WIPE behind it. Jack exchanging pleasantries with them in broken Chinese. The WIFE laughing and correcting him. Showing Jack a picture of her daughter. EXT. LAFAYETTE STREET The Van's doors open and the two Russians step out into the piregt. Both holding canvas bags. The Wiry one hanging, by the Vah, eyeing the foot traffic.’ Wild Hair moving to the street Side of the Impala. INT. CHINESE LIQUOR STORE The Chinese man, bagging Jack’s breakfast while the Wife makes change. Jack about to leave when the Chinese Man beckons him towards the back... INT. IMPALA - SAME TIME Eddie Bunker looks around trying, to see where the hell. Jack is. Checks the clock again. Slides to the passenger, door and tries to open it. NO DOOR HANDLE. Starts over the partition when then REARS a TAPPING of the street-side window.23. Falls back to see some WILD HAIRED Russian Man peering inside. Smiling as he motions Eddie to roll down the window. Eddie Sliding over and looking for the button. INT. CHINESE LIQUOR STORE Jack being shown the jimmied lock on the back delivery door to the store. Bmpty liquor cartons lay nearby, Jack’ explaining something in Chinese and motioning to the security monitor over the register. INT. IMPALA Eddie gestures to the Russian to try the door, HEARING BioUTs, turning to see the Wiry Russian SCREANING at his other. Looking back in time to see the TECH-9 PRESSED TO THE GLASS. BLAM! Only the glass doesn’t shatter. Instead it’s SPATTERED WITH BLOOD, HAIR AND BRAIN MATTER. What's left of the Russian’s face’ slides away revealing Jack, his gun barrel still smoking half-way across the street. EXT. LAFAYETTE - SIMULTANEOUS Jack stands in the middle of the street, gun hand shaking. Tunnel vision and audio collapse washing over him. Not hearing the PEDESTRIAN SCREAMS or BRAKES SQUEAL around him... Nox seeing the Wiry Russien, coming from around the Van raising his Tech-9 until it’s too late... Yurning just in time to HEAR the CHAMBER EXPLODE... the exact moment a skidding TAXI SIDASWIPES the Russian knocking the shot a millimeter off line. PEDESTRIANS and SHOPKEEPERS scatter as the bullet SHATTERS a plate glass window. Jack charging tovard the Impala. Knees pumping like out, of sync pistons gs the Wizy Russien gets to nis feet, too high and too crazed to register pain. Leveling the machine pistol and BLASTING AWAY... INT. IMPALA Jack bellying through the door as bullets thud sickeningly Close to his ear. A cacophony of metal chunks being Gisgorged echo atound him. Not noticing his 9mm bouncing to the pavement...aa. Eddie hugging the back floorboards. EDDIE WHAT’ S HAPPENING?! Jack beneath the steering wheel, fumbling for the RADIO. Dropping it as SLIVERS OF GLASS, RAIN DOW ON HIM. Reaching up and turning the key. Heart hammering through his ribs. Gets the key in the ignition and throws the Impala in Feverse, pressing his hand on the accelerator... The Impala SLAMMING INTO THE Russian, knocking him six feet... Jack up into the drivers seat, throws it into drive and accelerates towards Spring Street. EXT. IMPALA Russian FIRING FROM THE GROUND, bullets PELPING THE REAR TIRES. The car leaking fuel 4nd spewing smoke. Sputtering onte Spring Street. INT. IMPALA Rolling to a stop half-way up the block... Jack trying to locate the Russian through cracked windows and smoke. PEOPLE obscuring his vision. Grabbing for his gun and realizing it’s gone. KICKS OPEN THE PASSENGER DOOR, stays low and RIPS OPEN THE BACK DOOR. Eddie Bunker balled up’ on the floor, clutching his book.’ Pulls the kid onto the sidewalk as the street swims with PEOPLE and movement. JACK AND EDDIE - MOVING Across the sidewalk and down a service alley as fast as Jack’s bad leg can take them... Coming out into another alley... Eyes trying, te focus, ‘operating on pure instinct. Spotting the van on Lafayette, doors open and no one ihside... The crazy Russian out here somewhere... Over a small cinder block wall and into a... SMALL PARKING LOT - MULBERRY STREET Dozens of cars packed like sardines in between two buildings. Jack and Eddie stumbling over hoods and bumpers. Jack pulling Eddie into thea5. INT. PARKING KIOSK Just off the sidewalk. Cramped makeshift office with a gated window and door-less entrance. Jack grabbing the rotary phone. FREEZING when he spots HIM coming fast across the street. Backlit by the rising sun, Hand already reaching behind his back, the skinny MAN zeroed in on Jack. Pushing Addie to the floor as the Man pulls his hand from behind his back and aims... 2 parking ticket in Jack’s face. MAN, I’m the tan Caddy. EXT, MULBERRY STREET Jack pulls Eddie across the street, adrenaline surging. Hitting the sidewalk and heading south. Jack suddenly realizing that Eddie is gone. vurning to see Eddie running back towards the commotion. cars swerving around the kid. Jack heading after him, screaming. Eddie stopping to avoid a taxi, Jack just about there when Eddie bends down and retrieves’ the notebook he dropped. gACK Are you fucking nuts! Jack yanks Eddie to the side walk, ‘Trying to get his bearings. A BIKE MESSENGER whizzing by makes Jack flinch, the BUSINESS MAN ‘reaching into his briefcase... Suddenly EVERYONE looks like a potential killer. DELIVERY ALLEY Moving in and around the DELIVERY TRUCKS delivering produce, meats and liquor. Jack trying shake the fuzziness. Trying’ to remember what’ to do... BOOM! A door bursts open! Jack SPINNING.., THREE CHINESE BUSKOYS dumping steaming water into the alley. Every movement, every sound is heightened. Jack still searching...Eddie humming to himself now. Jack watching the signs above gated back entrances... Then finding it, Jerking Eadie through the back ccor of Number and into-16. INT. STORAGE ROOM Jammed with liquor boxes piled too high to be safe, The ALAPM wailing... Jack pushing Eddie towards a curiained doorway when suddenly 2 baseball bat flies through 1%, misging Jack's head by millimeters, smashing into a czate of ferlot. Jack grabbing the bat and pulling DOMINIC FORLINI, the white- haired 77 year old bar owner through it. Surpriséd and shocked by the sight of Jack. FORLINI Jesus Jackie I thought it was kids. JACK Lock it. INT. DOMINIC’S - EARLY MORNING A tiny drinker’s hideaway on the edge of Little Italy. Red naugahyde booths, kidney shaped bar with two Bapresso machines. Jack to the wall phone, knowing right where it is. Shaky fingers dialing... JACK This is officer Jack Mosley, badge 227, I am 19-13, one-three“three Mulberry: Officer is plainclothes, green shirt, black slacks. I have wale prisoner, 24, white polo shirt, sneakets, ‘We are under fire.’ Perp is in white overalls with automatic weapon... DISPATCHER (0S) Roger 10-13, 1-3-3 Mulberry-. Jack hangs up as Dominic shuffles in, seeing the blood caking above Jack’s left eye. BORLINI Jackie what’s going on? You-— But Jack is moving again. Pointing to the illegal BUSBOYS as he crosses the room. JACK Get ‘em out of here! You too. Forlini herds them out the front door. Jack dragging Eddie hard into a booth elong the far wail. JACK (cont! da) They said you weze a nobody!a. EDDIE Tam! I swear! T don’t under-- Jack roughly hauls Eddie out of the booth and across the room... JACK Rats like you turn my stomach. You people don’t give a shit who gets covered with’ your garbage. EDDIE This is a mis-- Jack throws him into a booth left of the door and underneath @ large window. JACK Bottom feeders like you would rat your own mother it meant saving your own ass. Jack reaches up and pulls the curtains closed, PLUNGING THE BAR INTO EVEN GREATER DARKNESS. Operating on’ sheer instinct. Rust and cobwebs showing... BOOTH Jack drops in hard and angry. JACK Shoulda let them kill you. Eddie’s body still trembling, hands wrapped tightly around his notebook. EDDIE I/m just supposed to- JACK Not another syllable. The SOUND of brakes SCREECHING TO A HALT outside. Jack parts the curtain a sliver. UNIFORMED PATROLMEN JUMPING from their blue and whites... Relief spreads through Jack. Pulse dropping. Crosses to the bar and pours a Johnny Walker as Eddie peers through the curtain. EDDIB’S POV Be two Unmarked Cars pull yp. | Patrolten turning as MEN in SUITS exit theiz vehicles flashing gold shields...18. BOOTH Eddie stares unblinkingly at the largest suit in particular, face going pale. Jack looks up from the bar to see Eddie sliding under the table... BOOM! The front door explodes open. INT. DOMINIC’S - WIDER Homicide Detective FRANK NUGENT is inside before Jack can move. Detectives JIMMY MULVEY AND ROBERT TORRES right behind, spreading out across the room, movements routine and precise. The back ALARM SOUNDING then shutting off. Detective JERRY SHUS, steps through the back curtain, EXIT light above bounéing 6££ his blue-black toupee. ‘Gives Nugent the all clear sign, and everybody holsters their weapons. Mulvey's thin, a hawk-like nose and hooded eyes, Torzes short and compact. A fire hydrant with feet. Hard-ass guys. Nugent looks at Jack with a shit-eating grin. A large man who doesn’t inhabit the room, he consumes it, Older than Jack, but vital. The eyes and arrogance of Ted Williams. NUGENT Shit hits the fan and he’s standing there with a drink in his hand. Like it was nothing. (beat) God I miss this bastard. The others snicker. Jack looking around confused. NUGENT (cont! d) We were two blocks over when the Gall went out, Heard it was you, we made like the friggin’ cavalry. Reaches across the bar and slaps his meaty hand on Jack’s shoulder. NUGENT (cont/d) Long time Jack. UNDER THE TABLE Eddie taking small, silent breaths. His view obscured by tables and Chairs.’ He eyes the door to his left when Torres’s stumpy leas step in front of him. [addie freezes any movement, notebook clutched to his chest. Trying to find a sign in this.19. DOMINIC’S - WIDER All eyes on Nugent as he bellies up to the bar. Relaxed and confident. NUGENT Big mess out there Jack. You didn’t lose the wit, dia ya? JACK No. He's safe. NUGENT Good man, Where is he? Jack hesitates. Something’s not, right about this. But he’s unable to keep his eyes off the booth near the door. All eyes shift across the room. Eddie Bunker slowly rising from beneath the table. Eyes locking/into Nugent's./ A flicker of recognition and féar. Jack looking from Eddie to Nugent. Bodie BOLTS for the door but Mulvey and Torres grab him, Nugent casually sits on a bar stool as his guys drag Eddie across the room, NUGENT (cont! d) How you been, Jack? Heard you've been'to the farm. Jack looking down at his drink. JACK Qwice. Working a strong program now. Nugent smiles as Jack knocks it back. NUGENT You believe that mutt Gruber made Captain? Told me you hooked up with Cannova’s unit. Supposed to be a good bunch of quys. Jack's half listening. Watching Mulvey throw the kid in the corner and pat him down. JACK He’s clean. Mulvey looks back at Jack, grins, and keeps patting. NUGENT, Stall with what's her name? The newspaper lady? JACK Not for a while now.20. Jack seeing Mulvey now uncuff Eddie end hold him while Torres pulls a Saturday night special from his ankle and presses it into Eddie’s shaking hand, then lets it drop to the floor. Nugent looks back to his guys then to Jack. NUGENT Cocksucker was gonna testify against Ryan. You remember him from Narcotics. Part of my team now. (beat) Dick’ Il roll over they indict him. And I can’t have that. His shit’s gonna open some closets T can’t we opened. Some go way back. Suddenly Jack’s whole demeanor changes. like he’s been slapped out of a deep, medicated sleep. NUGENT (cont'd) The whole thing caught us unaware. You were a last minute thing on this. Supposed to be Teach’s nephew driving him. | that’s bis thing. Who knows where the fuck he went. So Gruber pegged you. (laughs) Never figured you'd cap one of ‘em. Fuckin’ Russians. That's what you get when you hire drug addicts. Across the room, Torres holds the throw down gun with his handkerchief and fires a single shot into the far wal Mulvey with his foot on Eddie's chest. NUGENT (cont'd) I figure it this vay. You pop the guys tnying to spring the rat astard but the little shit gets your gun, Takes you hostage, We Come in and save the day. He dies you live. Like ordering a sandwich. Waits for Jack to process it. Eyeing him like a father would the wayward son. KUGENT (cont’d) Shit, maybe you get a medal. Get your'life straightened out. cet you back where you belong.” This Could be a good thing Jack. Torres nods to Nugent. They’re ready. NUGENT (cont’ d) You want to stay for it? Jack doesn’t move, Looks around the room, Mulvey to his left. Torres on the right. Shue dead center. Now looks at Eddie. Rody trembling, eyes pleading with Jack.21. Eyes falling to his drink, Staring into it like there might bean answer there, self ioathing washing over his face. Magent’s run out of patience and’ stands. NUGENT {cont’d) Make yourself! useful. Pour us a couple of drinks. Nugent crosses the room and nods to Shue. Jack turns his back, unable to watch. Reaching for the Chivas when he catches Jerry Shue inthe mirroz, eye-fucking Jack with a shit-eating grin as he takes out his .38 Torres and Mulvey move away from Eddie. Shue aiming the gun... BLAM! The SOUND is DEAFENING. Jack pulling, the triggex on the sawed-off Shotgun that was under the bar, BLOWING Jerry Shue’s left kneecap into tiny fragments.” Swinging and racking at the same time, both barrels ieveled at Frank Nugent’s heart, arms a little shaky. Torres and Mulvey, weapons still bolstered, freeze. Dead silence. Every BREATH, every CREAK magnified. The writhing, unnatural MOANS of Jerry Shue the only SOUND. Frank Nugent doesn’t blink. Stares right down the barre] of Dominic Forlini’s taped up shotgun. You"d swear his heart never skipped a beat. NUGENT (cont! d) That changes everything Jack. Jack moves azound in front of the bar, shotgun rising to Nugent’s head. NUGEN? (cont’d) Jury’s tenure ends at ten. That kid’ gets there a minute past and all this doesn’t matter. Ryan walks. All you have to'do is look the other way. JACK Eddie. Eddie hustles across the room and behind Jack. Jack backing the both of them towards the rear door. NUGENT can’t help you once you walk out that door. Jack stepping over Jerry Shue, eyeballs rolling back in his head like anatlantic City slot. Sddie disappearing through the curtain. “Jack holding Nugent’s stare, trying to hold it ogether.22. Then he’s gone. Torres and Mulvey grabbing their weapons, Mulvey moving to Jerry. Torres out the back door, Nugent looking down at Serry Shue with no emotion, pulling his cell. Eyeing the neon’ clock over the bar 8:18 NUGENT (cont’d) Get him to a hospital. Make sure he knows to keep his mouth shut for now. Nobody outside this room knows anything; (dialing his cel) And stay off your radios. We know where he’s going so this shouldn’t be hard. EXT. DELIVERY ALLEY Moving with Jack and Eddie underneath scaffolding, past an empty loading dock to a set of cement steps leading to a sub- basement door. Jack shaken. JACK What the fuck did you see? TELL EDDIE That big guy an there and his friend, the’ one whose pictuze the DA showed me. I saw them telling some Puerto Rican dude to get lost or they were gonna carve up his Kags. Threatening him.” that’s all. Jack's mind beginning to clear. INT. BASEMENT - CHINESE LAUNDRY Dripping steam pipes feed a dozen industrial washers and dryers. Sweltering, oppressive heat. CHINESE WORKERS sort and foid on both sides of a long cafeteria tables. Down a dark cinder block passageway. Jack finding 2 drainage grate, dropping the shotgun into it: EDDIE, Don’t we need that? JACK. Had one shell in it for twenty years. lucky it went off. Eddie staring at the drainage grate like it means something.23. DELIVERY ALLEY - SAME TIME Torres, thick and massive, moves with the methodical concentration of a panther stalking its prey. INT. CHINESE LAUNDRY Street level. Jack pulling Eddie out of the service elevator and towards the door, badge in the air for the surprised OWNER to see. Calming him in halting Chinese. Stepping next to a SEAMSTRES$ working in the window, peering out. No black van. No Russian. No Police... Jack unlocks Eddie’s cuffs. Whips off his shirt, tossing it away. Just a T-shirt now. ‘Hands Eddie a shirt from a cleaning bin. vack Put this on. Then hands him a hanger of dry cleaning. JACK (cont’d) Walk slow,” Like you know where you're going. I'll be right behind you. EXT. WEST BROADWAY - MORNING Eddie steps into the street and starts South, Jack three steps behind, the two weaving through the crowds. Eddie, dry ghesning bag’ slung over his shoulder, hugging che, shadows of the building facades. dJack’s eyes darting everywhere. PATROL CARS from Mid-Town South, 1st and the Sth cruise by from side streets. None of it Seems to bother Eddie, walking down West Broadway with a coolness in his step. JACK They didn’t tell you Bayan was a cop, did they? EDDIE I just say his picture on the table. They never said he was police. JACK Well you're about to rat out the top Homicide detective in the New York City police department, Bet that’s worth more than a suit. Crossing Grand Street now, blending in with the foot traffic. Getting lost in a sea of faces... “The Courthouse eleven blocks away. The clock on the MONY BUILDING steeple flashing24. 8:21 EXT. GRAND STREET - SAME TIME Frank Nugent, stands in the doorway of 3, boarded uo Restaurant, hands in his pockets. One by one UNMARKED CARS pull up and stocky MEN exit the vehicles. Some in SUITS, Others in WINDBREAKERS and JEANS. WEAPONS jammed in the’ back of pants and in shoulder holsters. These are hard, unflinching Cops. We're too far away to HEAR but it’s obvious Nugent is briefing them, No small talk either, ‘The facts, the deal and that’s it! They break as quickly as they got there. Just _as_an OFFICIAL CAR pulls to the curb. Out of it steps DANIEL GRUBER, Captain of the 5th and very pissed. Again we're too far away to hear what’s being said. But Nugent. seems to be a calming influence. They walk toward us and slowly we begin to hear... NUGENT ++ put out descriptions over precinct channels. No names. Or hat one’s @ cop. It’ll help to have some eyes. (beat) How long can you sit on this? GRUBER He shot a cop for Christsakes. NUGENT You're the Precinct Captain, Dan. Hiow long? GRUBER Hour. Maybe 2. little more. Who’s on this with you? NUGENT Ortiz and Maldonado from ix. Touhey and Kailer from the oné-eleven. A couple of others you don’t want to know about. “I’ve called in all favors. Gruber stares into the busy streets. GRUBER . Guy can’t tle hig shoe without falling down suddenly he’s a cowboy. What's that about? NUGENT I woke him up. That was my mistake. (MORE)25. NUGENT (cont'd) He’ 11 probably do what he always does and we can all go back to work. GRUBER And if he doesn’t? NUGENT These are his streets, Dan. I want to quash this thing before he gets his legs back. ibeat} It’ll get ugly for the six of us if that kid talks. EXT, WEST BROADWAY Jack and Eddie approaching Broome, foot traffic thinning, Eddie walking more relaxed. Jack’ just off his left shoulder. Eddie slowing to look in store windows as they go. JACK Pick it up. EDDIE You said go easy. JACK I’m saying go faster now. Jack searching for a cab now. EDDIE Slow, fast. You have no idea what you'te doing, do you? (beat) I’m sure you have your, good qualities, But ever since I_met you, nothing's gone right... so. T we to consider the possibility that i'm with the wrong guy. T mean look at you. Out of breath, hungover, anda leg that’s gonna give out’ any second. You were a orse, they’d shoot ye. No offense. JACK Nong taken,” Coming from a guy who’s spent half his adult Life in the joint. EDDIE, I cease and desisted being that guy a while ago. JACK Sure you did.26. Passing a DUANE REED and a window of CLOCKS. Eddie staring at the time: 8:25 EDDIE Look. This is a big day for me. I need to be at a certain place by noon or I can’t get what I’m destined to have. And in order to get there by nooh 7 have to be inished in court by ten. I can’t be late. Jack's not hearing a thing. Zyes now searching the streets. Start of the day FOOT TRAFFIC making it hard to spot trouble. Suddenly realizing Eddie’s not talking and looks back. GONE. Head SPINNING in every direction. Nothing. Then a TAPPING SOUND on glass. Sees Eddie waving from inside... INT. CAMMBRANO'S BAKERY Ricotta cheesecakes, cannoli shells, sheets of Prato cookies fill display cases.’ white cake boxés with customer names stacked against the back well. FAT ITALIAN WOMEN with their stockings rolled down picking up orders from MAMA CAMMERANO. BELLS above the door RINGING as Jack slides into the crowded store and hovering near the front window watching the street scene unfold. COPS in BLUE fanning out across West Broadway. EDDIE When you go in for your leg, get your eyes checked too. Jack watches their movements over the top of Wedding Cakes. Eddie sliding to the cake display near the back, captivated by the elaborate cakes. GRANDMA’ CANNERANO eyes’ him suspiciously. EDDIE (cont’d) You make all these here? Insulted, Grandma spits something in Italian and gestures towards the back. INT. BAKERY BACK ROOM Steel tables and racks of delicacies. LARGE MEN hand stir large vats of batter and pull freshly baked bread from brick ovens. Against the far wall a beautiful 19 year old ITALIAN GIRL meticulously decorates a sheet cake. At least attempts oO.an. Mama Cammerano’s son, ALFONSE (40/s) leans against her, pressing his sweaty body against hers, pretending to be interested in her artwork, furry hands Smoothing out her apron in inappropriate places. Suddenly Eddie’s face appears over his shoulder. EDDIE Never seen a border like that. Very inventive. You do all the cakes here? Biphonse has to, step away. The Girl looks at Eddie, a shy, but dazzling smile of thanks. ALFONSE She speak no English. Who you be? You inspector? EDDIE, . That’s right. EDA approved. This here is a spot check. (holds up notebook) Don't make me put you down ia my OOK. Eddie looks around the place then starts around the table, icking up an icing tube as he goes. Slowly strolls behind dphonse, making the man nervous, appearing on the other side. EDDIE (cont’d) When’s the last time you disinfected your utensils? or those guys had showers? Huh? Better get your act together my man. Alfonse is flustered and strides towards the front. Only now do we see the back of his jacket. The word ASS scripted out in powder blue icing. The Italian girl stifling her GIGGLE. EDDIE (cont’d) Well he is. (beat) You don’t need have to put up with that crap. Sue him for harassment. Besides, you got talent, | yeu, could work anyplace. And I should know. BAKERY WINDOW Jack seeing Torres appear on the block. Walking towards several of the UNTFORMS. Talking with them. Suddenly ALL EYES looking right into'the Bakery. BAKERY BACK ROOM Eddie showing the girl a page in his book.28. EDDIE ++ this one’s, kinda elaborate. $91 seal it first with a glaze: Gives you a stronger canvas. Then Iuse butter cream instead of shortening. She’s not looking at the page. Just at Eddie. Not understanding a thing but enjoying his enthusiasm. (erage dane ipping the page’ on this phe f took’=2° Eddie jerked quay towards service door by Jack, Looking baci for one last look at the smiling girl. EXT, SERVICE ALLEY Narrow and crammed. Jack pulling Eddie close. JACK This isn’t a game asshole. Keep it together ox we're both dead. Eddie turns and holds out the business card. EDDIE, Know what that is? Jack says nothing. EDDIE (cont'd) It’s a sign. bear} You know how long I’ve been looking for a place that sells this particular buttercream? Well the girl in there uses the same uittercream. Gives me their card. That bakery, that girl, this moment. Waat are the odds? JACK You are nuts. . EDDIE I’m just following the signs Jack. 1 pee can’t Eigute how you fit in all this. INT. CAMMERANO’S BAKERY Alfonse scrubs the icing from his sport coat as Torres and TWO UNIFORMS enter, They walk over to the Italian Giri who slides her cake into the display. Torres asking her the question. The Italian Girl not understanding.29. ALFONSE, (eyeing the girl with contempt) They go out the back. EXT. SERVICE ALLEY Torres, stepping out into the gazrow delivery way. Looks right then left. No Jack or Eddie. INT. BUILDING STAIRWELL Jack limps up a_back set of stairs as fast as his broken body can take him, Eddie staying a few steps in front, taking it slow on purpose. EDDIE What's interesting in all this is cops always stick together. (beat So I’m wondering why you're not? Jack hurrying to the next floor, too winded to say anything. EXT. SERVICE ALLEY Torres a block away from the bakery, eyes searching, Rows of walk-ups. Zyes falling on basement door. All the glass Pancls glistening in the morning sun. | EXCEPT ONE. "Torres noves closer and sees the pane is missing. Unclips his cell phone... FOURTH FLOOR HALLWAY Jack's breathing is heavy as he searches for a hidden key outside Apartment D. Not there. JACK Shit. Eddie pushes Jack aside. EDDIE Step aside and let a pro handle this. INT. APARTMENT D WE HOLD on the door 2s the SOUNDS of a LOCK BRING PICKED is heard. Then HEARD again. And AGAIN. ‘The door not opening. Finally the Medeco déad bolt clicks open, then the cylinder lock. “The dogy swings open to reveal Jack holding a piece of the ary cleaning hanger.30. JACK No wonder youre twelve-time loser. Can't pick a simple lock. EDDIE Yeah, well if I had more time... Jack pushes past him as Bddie takes in the surroundings. Neat, functional and clean. EDDIE (cont'd) woman, About your age. works. (touches a half-dead plant) A lot. Nothing of any real value. Jack pot listening. Runmaging through the Living room closet. Comes out’ empty handed, JACK Where’d she put it... EDDIE, Guess you haven't been heze in a while.” You and the lady on the outs? Eddie moving to the hallway now, Spots pictures lining one of the walls. PICTURES Family shots. A SMILING WOMAN in most of them, And two of a younger, more vibrant Jack. In his rookie uniform with Gleaming, idealistic eyes and a few years later with his arm around the woman. EDDIE So that’s what you lock like when you smile, (beat) Your lady's pretty, Jack. Bddie eyes drift, inte the bazhroom. Toilet seat up. Nap’s razor on the sink. Uh oh. Eddie quietly lowers the seat and hides the razor so Jack doesn’t see. Walks into the bedroom and slides open the closet. Men’s clothing. Shuts it just as Jack walks in. EDDIE, (cont'd) Nothing here. Maybe-- Jack flinging it open. Stares at the clothes, a flash of hurt and sadfess appears on his face then it quickly disappears. Leans down into the back of the cloget and finally reemerges with a dust covered .38 and a box of shells. Eddie watches Jack stare uncomfortably at the clothes for a beat.31. EDDIE (cont'd) Sorry. HALLWAY Jack moving full tilt out of the bedroom loading the .38 and moving towards the door... FREEZING when he sees the door handle turn, Motions Eddie away from the door. Pulling him down the hall Just as.. THE FRONT DOOR EXPLODES inward. Torres stepping inside, WEAPON DRAWN. INT. APARTMENT D Torres eyes the living room. Not moving a step. Listening. Starting his way through the place. Living room, hallway, bathrooi, bedroom, finally the spare room. All’ empty. Returns to the living room, hoistering his gun. Almost out the door when Torres spots the empty shell box on the coffee table. Torres quickly bolting the door, turning, senses heightened. Takes out his Glock and moves to the living room closet. Empty. Now down the hall... Into the bathroom, checking the shower. Nothing. To the bedroom... Windows gated and locked from the inside. Closet of clothes and nothing else. Back to the hall and thro. SPARE ROOM No windows in here. Just a desk, wobbly Ikea dresser... and a large closet. Torres levels the gun as he kicks open the hinged doors Not prepared for THE MURPHY BED FALLING FROM THE WALL. Slaming into Torres and driving him into the ground. Pinning him underneath, Jack and Eddie on top. Torres reaching his Glock... fires a round through the mattress. The shell searing past Eddie’s ear. Jack rolling off the bed. Torres feeling the cold steel of Tack’s .38 against his temple. Freezing as Jack COCKS THE HAMMER.