Enemy of the State Page #4

ZAVITZ:

Federal Express?

MAN'S VOICE (O.S.)

For Daniel Zavitz. I just need a

signature.

ZAVITZ:

(beat)

How'd you get in the building?

MAN'S VOICE (O.S.)

The door was open, sir. I just need

a signature.

ZAVITZ disconnects a video digitizer, removes a game-

cartridge containing the digitized video...

...and inserts it into a Gameboy.

He steps to the door and eyes the peep-hole.

ZAVITZ POV:
A fish-eye view of a Fed-Ex man, JONES,

looking bored.

ZAVITZ:

Can you tell me who it's from?

JONES:

(checking label)

Micro-Tel Electronics. Sunland.

ZAVITZ:

Can you--would it be possible to

leave it by the door?

JONES:

Not without a signature.

ZAVITZ:

(stepping to the window)

All right. Okay. Just give me a minute.

ZAVITZ POV:
TWO DWP INSTALLERS hovering in a bucket

across the street. Down below, a cargo van with a

multiple roof antenna is double parked near a Fed-Ex

van. Then--

--Through a street window's reflection, ZAVITZ sees his

building's front entrance. SEVERAL TENANTS are being

prevented from entering by TWO MEN, plain clothes, one

with a radio communicator pressed to his ear.

Sh*t.

ZAVITZ backs from the window, seized by panic. He grabs

his phone...

...dead.

He picks up his fax line. Also dead.

He grabs the GameBoy, goes to a small side window and

opens it. A ledge snakes around the corner. An athlete

he's not but there's no choice. He squeezes out.

INT. ZAVITZ BLDG. STAIRWELL - CONTINUOUS

PRATT, wearing a Fed-Ex uniform, is laying in wait.

RADIO VOICE (O.S.)

(through PRATT's earphone)

Go to three. Go to three. Package

is out the window.

PRATT sprints down the hall, pulling out his pistol, as

JONES kicks in Zavitz's door and rushes in. The

window's open. JONES looks out as the last of ZAVITZ

goes around the corner of the ledge.

RADIO VOICE (O.S.)

(through JONES's headset)

305 to 308. We've got the eyeball.

EXT. ROOFTOP - CONTINUOUS

It's the rooftop ZAVITZ is heading to. Two MEN crouch

behind a wall, watching ZAVITZ approach.

MAN #1

(into headset)

We'll take delivery from here.

ZAVITZ inches along, scared breathless. He looks back.

No one.

Maybe he was wrong.

A pigeon suddenly flies by...ZAVITZ loses his balance,

struggles...and falls.

He crashes through an awning and into a sidewalk fruit

stand.

Dazed, ZAVITZ crawls to his feet as passersby watch

speechless.

Things happen fast. The cargo van rips from the curb

but is suddenly blocked by a delivery truck. HORNS BLAST.

HICKS, 30's and athletic, leaps from the van.

Fears confirmed, ZAVITZ starts down the sidewalk,

shakes off pain, and moves to a run.

Except now there's someone in front of him. He's

trapped. Reaching a doorway, ZAVITZ pushes. The door

opens to--

INT. RESTAURANT SUPPLY SHOP - CONTINUOUS

ZAVITZ charges through and kicks open a fire door. An

alarm blasts as he exits to--

EXT. ALLEYWAY - CONTINUOUS

A garbage truck screams up the alley. There's no way to

outrun it. There's a fire escape above a dumpster.

Breath rasping, he struggles on the dumpster, pulling

himself up the ladder just as the truck OBLITERATES all

below.

ZAVITZ struggles and climbs. Reaching a landing, he

pauses for breath...

...and sees HICKS and two others just moments behind.

ZAVITZ grabs a fire escape door, tugs, pulls and bangs

it open to--

INT. A DILAPIDATED HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS

ZAVITZ hurtles by, trips, get up, runs again, adrenaline

pumping as PURSUING SOUNDS near. He pitches down a

staircase, shoves TWO PEOPLE and rips through--

INT. COFFEE SHOP - CONTINUOUS

He flies past the diners and exits into--

EXT. BUSY STREET - CONTINUOUS

HICKS and ANOTHER fly out of the diner, just in time to

see ZAVITZ melting in with Christmas shoppers that are

entering a department store.

We see that the large sign over the entrance to the

store reads:
"HARRISON'S".

INT. HARRISON'S DEPARTMENT STORE - EVENING

An upscale store packed with Christmas shoppers.

At a fashion ramp, a small crowd of mostly WOMEN have

gathered to watch leggy models feature a particular

line of lingerie. Mixed in among this group is DEAN, a

shopping bag in each hand, his briefcase tucked under

one arm, trying his best to affect an air of the

studious shopper.

WOMAN'S VOICE (O.S.)

May I help you?

DEAN:

(startled)

Hm?!

The WOMAN is sales clerk who's been in this situation

before.

SALES CLERK:

Do you see anything you like?

DEAN:

I'm married.

SALES CLERK:

That's fine.

DEAN:

I'm married to my wife...of several

years...and I'd like to buy...as a

Christmas present...

SALES CLERK:

You'd like to buy your wife some

lingerie as a Christmas gift.

DEAN:

Yes. I have her permission.

SALES CLERK:

It's okay. I think it's a wonderful

gift.

DEAN:

Can you help me?

SALES CLERK:

How 'bout Christian Dior?

DEAN:

Is that good?

SALES CLERK:

Very good.

DEAN:

I don't know anything about this.

Well, I mean, I know a little

about--from a certain perspective.

My point is, I don't want to do

anything foolish.

SALES CLERK:

It's a little late for that.

DEAN:

I'll say.

SALES CLERK:

What size?

DEAN:

Pardon?

SALES CLERK:

What size?

DEAN:

Eight. Size eight.

SALES CLERK:

I'll be right back.

DEAN:

Thanks.

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