Assassins Page #2

Rath lowers his gun. He takes a deep breath and lets it

out slowly, standing alone in the middle of nowhere. We

TILT DOWN TO an EXTREME CLOSEUP of blood in the water.

INT. HOTEL ROOM - DAY (LATE AFTERNOON)

Rath closes the curtains. There is a makeshift office on

the desk. A cell phone is connected to a lap-top computer.

The prompt flashes expectantly.

On the coffee table, we see the dismantled .22, spread

clean on a white towel.

Rath stands at a window looking out at the city. He

leans forward until his forehead rests against the window.

He closes his eyes, enjoying the cool of the glass.

A beat. Then he looks to the street below. For just an

instant, he's wondering what it would be like to fall.

Breaking from his reverie, Rath steps to the desk.

He sits, regards the computer with loathing, then types

in a long access code sequence. He waits.

After a few moments, a line of dialogue appears. Rath

is communicating with someone... The Contractor.

Contractor:
Where have you been, Robert?

Rath:
Sick. The flu.

INT. CONTRACTOR'S OFFICE - LATE AFTERNOON

EXTREME CLOSEUP OF eyes, hands, mouth, computer, etc.

Contractor:
I don't believe you.

BACK TO RATH:

RATH:

I don't care what you believe.

I want out. I've had it.

Contractor:
I've been sitting on a prime contract.

But these days, something else is on Rath's mind.

RATH:

Who are you, you sonuvabitch?

Rath:
Send the file. I'll have the estimate tonight.

Contractor:
I'm worried about you, Robert.

RATH:

You should be.

Rath:
Don't be.

Contractor:
Good. You are my #1.

The screen goes blank. A beat and the word "TRANSMITTING"

appears. Rath stands.

A slimline PRINTER HUMS, starts to reproduce a newspaper

photo of ALAN BRANCH. Strong. Hard eyes which Rath

studies a moment, then circles. As a second sheet

feeds, Rath isn't that interested.

EXT. CITY STREETS - SUNSET

Mist fills the air. As night comes on, Rath walks. He

has no real purpose at the moment. And the crowds don't

magically seem to get out of his way. He watches them

laughing, talking, hurrying this way and that. Rath's a

loner. An outsider. Life moves around him, but he's not

part of it. At least not this version. The mist turns

to darkness.

INT. MALL - UPSCALE WOMEN'S CLOTHING STORE - NIGHT

Rath pauses, his eye caught by a scene inside.

A dowager berates a female CLERK. The Clerk takes it

stoically, nodding, placating. Huffing and puffing, the

dowager heads back to the racks. The Clerk watches her

in exasperation. No one deserves this kind of abuse.

Rath is going to continue when, on an impulse, he decides

to enter the store instead.

INT. UPSCALE WOMEN'S CLOTHING STORE - NIGHT

Rath steps inside, begins to look around. The Clerk sighs

to herself. Another customer and it's almost closing time.

The dowager jams the dress back on the rack and it falls

to the floor. She ignores it, but Rath doesn't.

RATH:

I think you dropped something.

The dowager gives him a look.

RATH:

Maybe you better hang it back up.

And it isn't a question. The woman looks shocked, then

gruffly hanging the dress back up, hurries out of the

store.

Tired, a bit apprehensive, the Clerk gives Rath a moment

before joining him.

CLERK:

Can I help you, sir? We're just

closing.

Rath suddenly wonders what the hell he's doing here.

RATH:

I'm looking for something. I, I'm

not sure what.

CLERK:

(knows the routine)

Birthday? Anniversary?

Rath shakes his head. There's something sad about him,

but she misreads it.

CLERK:

A fight.

Rath starts to say something, but then stops. She takes

it as a yes to her question.

CLERK:

You said something you regret?

A beat. It takes Rath a moment to confess:

RATH:

Regret... Yes.

She thinks, decides on a way to get rid of him.

CLERK:

Are you really sorry?

Rath nods. He is. Finding what she's looking for, she

holds up an elegant red velvet dress.

CLERK:

Bring this home and she'll say

she's sorry. But it's expensive.

That price tag should get him out of here. A beat.

There's something oddly appealing about the moment. It's

hard to say, but Rath is charmed. Then, almost shyly...

RATH:

She's about your size. Would

you?...

The Clerk is caught off guard by this request. She is

all alone and it is getting late. Still, it'd be nice

to end the day with a sale.

CLERK:

Give me two minutes.

INT. MALL - UPSCALE WOMEN'S CLOTHING STORE - NIGHT

Rath stares out the window. There's something mournful

almost haunting about him. An old soul to be sure.

INT. UPSCALE WOMEN'S CLOTHING STORE - NIGHT

Rath scans the empty store, then checks his watch. He's

lost his mind. As he heads for the door, the Clerk steps

out. The transformation is stunning. Rath stops short,

takes in the beauty of it all.

CLERK:

What do you think?

RATH:

(soft, gentle)

It's perfect.

She can't believe it.

CLERK:

I'll write it up?

She steps to a desk, scribbles out a receipt. Rath

notices an open textbook, several lines have been

highlighted.

RATH:

College?

CLERK:

Do you think I'm too old?... My

daughter says I'm too old to go

to school... I just sit in right

now. I don't have the money yet.

But I don't want to spend the rest

of my life selling somebody else's

dresses. I mean, you're never too

old to have dreams, right? To

start over?

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