Entrapment Page #8

Mac screeches faster past the Prison Museum, then bursts out

into a larger street which leads down into a tunnel. The

motorcycle and Cherokee are right behind them!

Mac is caught between two slow moving vehicles, unable to pass

them. He's helpless to prevent Haas pulling alongside them.

Haas' window rolls down. His gun is pointed directly at

Gin's head.

There's only one way out! Mac swerves to the right and heads

down the tunnel the wrong way!

INT. TUNNEL - SAME

The Jag heads into the semi-darkness.

EXT. TUNNEL - SAME

Haas and Quinn pull up by the median, stare into the tunnel.

HAAS:

No way I'm going in there.

INT. TUNNEL - SAME

Mac is in the tunnel, weaving through the incoming traffic

from one lane to the other! It's incredibly dangerous.

GIN:

Look, I hate to state the obvious, but

isn't this a one way?

MAC:

(thoroughly enjoying himself)

We're only going one way.

Then we race around a bend and there, coming right at us, are

two huge semis, side by side. Mac's face falls.

GIN:

We're going to die, aren't we?

MAC:

I'm not the one to ask.

Steam brakes scream, horns shriek! Mac hits his brakes, hard!

The huge trucks fill the screen, thirty tons of angry chrome

and steel, coming right at them!

EXT. TUNNEL - SAME

Haas and Quinn listen to the panicked horn, the squealing of

brakes. Haas grins.

HAAS:

Bye-bye, Mac.

Boom! Suddenly we see Mac blowing out of the tunnel at 60

m.p.h., IN REVERSE!

He jerks the wheel to the left, throwing the Jag dead into

the motorbike! It bounces off Haas's Grand Cherokee and back

into the roadway. Haas bangs on the door, trying to get it

open, but it's banged shut.

Quinn jumps out to recover the bike from the road but then

the huge trucks emerge from the tunnel and smash over the

bike, crushing it!

EXT. SPECTACULAR LONDON BUILDING - DAY

The Jag pulls up. Mac and Gin get out. Mac gives one last

look at his battered car as he opens the trunk.

MAC:

That's four thousand for the top, six

thousand for the bumpers, God knows how

much for the body work, you have to go to

art school to work on one of these--

He pulls a valise out of the trunk.

GIN:

Just put it on my bill.

MAC:

You'll find some warmer clothes in here.

GIN:

What about yours?

MAC:

I never carry baggage.

They head inside.

EXT. BUILDING - DAY

They emerge up some concrete steps onto the roof. Saint

Paul's is spread out beneath them.

GIN:

Where to now, Bungee Jumping?

MAC:

Perhaps.

He turns her toward a helicopter waiting on a pad. As they

walk toward it she opens the valise.

GIN:

I can't wait to see what you picked out

for me.

She checks out the valise, astonishment on her face.

GIN:

These are my clothes.

MAC:

Certainly not mine.

GIN:

You stole my luggage? You--!?

MAC:

I'm a thief, sue me.

GIN:

You bastard!

MAC:

When you were dealing with the wreck of

your rental car, I did a little job. Four

prototype copper super chips, value, five

million each. Come on, get in.

She gets in the helicopter.

MAC:

(continuing)

Your bag is in Hotel Security. One of

those chips is inside. An anonymous phone

call from me, your rental car at the

crime scene, it's not a pretty picture.

The rotors are turning fast now.

GIN:

That's entrapment.

MAC:

No. Entrapment is what cops do to

robbers. Blackmail is what robbers do to

schmucks.

Off Gin's look, Mac lifts the stick up. The helicopter

plunges off the top of the building, gains airspeed, and

flies away.

INT. HELICOPTER - MAGIC HOUR

The long steady vibration has put Gin to sleep. Mac nudges

her awake. She looks around, eyes barely open, still half

asleep.

He gestures down at the ground. She looks, and then her eyes

open wide. It is...dramatic.

EXT. SAFEHOUSE - MAGIC HOUR

Deer running across a heath, crumbling stone walls, and then

a stunningly beautiful small castle, walls glowing lavender

in the twilight, set next to a coal gray loch rimmed with

mountains wreathed in a purple haze.

It is so hauntingly lonely, that Gin is speechless.

EXT. SAFEHOUSE - FRONT DOOR - MAGIC HOUR

The helicopter in the b.g., Mac and Gin walk up to the

castle. Like its owner, the house is craggy and forbidding on

the outside. Mac turns the knob and walks in. No key, no

code, no nothing.

GIN:

No security? Not even a lock?

MAC:

Perhaps I have a more optimistic view of

human nature than you do.

INT. SAFEHOUSE - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

They enter what was once a baronial hall. Warm stone walls

glowing golden in firelight from a walk-in stone fireplace.

An eclectic mixture of contemporary and antique furnishings,

nothing ostentatious, everything carefully selected for its

uniqueness and comfort, all fitting together in harmony.

On the walls are a few classic paintings. A Renoir. A Turner.

A regimental banner from a Scottish regiment. Every item

reveals a piece of Mac's life and who he is. This is our

first glimpse of the private man. Gin lingers, looking at

everything, overwhelmed by this amazing place.

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