Entrapment Page #17

MAC:

(continuing)

Now's when you tell me who you really

are.

He grabs her by the hair, then shoves her under! She comes up

gasping.

MAC:

You work for Hector Cruz at Webber

Insurance. You're a bloody cop.

She treads water, tries to talk through her sputtering and

choking. WHOOP! WHOOP! WHOOP! An alarm goes off in the

Palace. Lights pop on all around the building. In the b.g. we

see people running toward the Palace.

GIN:

I'm not!

He shoves her under again! Lifts her back out! She's gasping

for breath, terrified, desperate.

GIN:

The insurance job, it was cover. That's

how I got the code!

The boat has drifted out into the light. Police cars race

over the bridge right above them. Mac pays them no attention.

GIN (cont'd)

For God sake, the cops...!

He stares at her. Impenetrable and menacing.

MAC:

So you're playing both sides of the

street. Keep the Mask, turn me in.

Down under the dark water again! Then up!

GIN:

Please! I'm a thief! Like you!

Mac thinks for a moment.

MAC:

Okay, you're a thief.

GIN:

Yes! Yes!

MAC:

What do I need a thief for? I've got the

Mask.

He shoves her under again! For a long time! When she comes up

this time she's terrified now.

GIN:

The big job.

MAC:

There is no big job.

He starts to shove her under again. This is very scary.

GIN:

It's a billion!

MAC:

A billion what?

GIN:

Dollars.

He's about to dunk her again, for the final terrible time.

GIN:

That's just your share.

Mac stares at her for a long beat.

GIN (cont'd)

Please. Trust me.

What is he going to do? We don't know. His face is hard,

gives us nothing.

MAC:

Get the hell in.

He pulls her unceremoniously into the boat. She lies gasping

on the floor like a fish, rolls over and faces the night sky.

WHAAOOO!! WHAAOO!! More police cars race across the bridge,

their sirens screaming.

Totally unflappable and always unpredictable, Mac reaches

down into the boat and pulls out a bottle.

MAC:

(continuing)

Whiskey?

Gin can barely get her breath. A moment ago he was about to

drown her.

GIN:

No...thank you.

Mac savors his. The sirens increase!! More police cars!!

GIN:

(continuing)

Can we celebrate somewhere else?

MAC:

If you want, certainly. Where to?

GIN:

Start paddling, we've got a long way to

go.

He paddles the boat out of frame and the dark lake DISSOLVES

TO:

EXT. KUALA LUMPUR - DAY

The prow of a boat enters the frame. Gin and Mac are in a

small river craft on a narrow brown stream overhung with palm

trees and tropical vegetation. As the boat docks, the two of

them continue a discussion they have obviously been having

for quite some time.

GIN:

Come on. You mean a billion isn't enough?

MAC:

Depends.

GIN:

If you absolutely have to know--

MAC:

Trust me, I do.

Beyond them is an extraordinary sight: supermodern buildings,

set against deep green tropical mountains: the architectural

design laboratory that is Kuala Lumpur, city of the third

millennium.

GIN:

Amazing, isn't it?

Gin is putting Mac off a little, having her fun now.

MAC:

Extraordinary.

He's not even looking. He wants his answer.

GIN:

Eight. The whole job is 8 billion.

INT. TAXI - KUALA LUMPUR - DAY

The taxi makes its way through open air markets shoe-horned

between sleek white towers.

MAC:

I'm getting less than fifteen percent!

GIN:

You're not happy? I'll make it 80-20.

EXT. KUALA LUMPUR - CROWDED DISTRICT - DAY

The taxi stops. Gin and Mac get out. Gin pays the driver.

They walk toward the unmarked door of an unmarked warehouse.

MAC:

To be fair, it's your plan, you should

get at least 30 per cent--

GIN:

My eighty, your twenty, smart guy--

MAC:

It's fifty-fifty.

Gin flips down a metal cover on the warehouse wall, revealing

a control panel into which she enters a code.

The door opens, revealing circular stairs. Gin heads up.

MAC (continuing)

What can you do with six billion dollars

you can't do with four?

GIN:

Hold the record. Alone.

On Mac's face we see grudging respect.

MAC:

That's my girl.

INT. GIN'S LOFT - DAY

The stairs lead us into a huge loft, hardwood floors

stretching to shuttered windows. Not a single personal item

anywhere.

MAC:

It's....homey.

Gin unpacks the Mask, opens a closet along the wall, pulls

back a row of men's clothes.

MAC:

(continuing)

Finally, a personal detail. Boyfriend?

GIN:

No. I don't carry baggage.

The echo with his line is deliberate. She's dialing in the

safe combination, she's constantly moving.

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