Excess Baggage

EXT. PORTLAND, OREGON (ESTABLISHING) - DAY

Portland, home of rivers, bridges, and more parks than youcan shake a stick at. The Columbia River, spanned by the Highway 5 and 205bridges, glistens a muddy brown in the sunlight; the Willamette glittersoff to the South.

INT. PARKING GARAGE/UPPER LEVEL - DAY

EMILY ROSE T. HOPE cut her teeth on a million dollar teethingring, and it was bitter -- too bitter. It left her an old woman's attitudein a young woman's body.

She idly taps a cellular phone's keypad with one perfectlymanicured nail as she stares through the parking level's open struts ata distant bridge -- and an approaching river barge.

The barge draws closer to the bridge. Closer. Closer still.She takes a drag off a cigarette, stubs it out, and dials a number on thephone's keypad.

EXT. BRIDGE - DAY

AMADEUS T. HOPE, an older man who most assuredly broke histeeth on a Rolls Royce, stands in a phone booth just off the bridge, waitingfor the phone to ring and caressing a briefcase like it contained a milliondollars -- which it does. Nearby, idle joggers in the park are more thanobviously undercover cops. The phone rings and Amadeus lifts it.

AMADEUS:

I'm here.

EMILY (V.O./FILTERED)

Amadeus T. Hope?

AMADEUS:

Yes.

EMILY (V.O./FILTERED)

Did you bring the money.

AMADEUS:

Yes.

EMILY (V.O./FILTERED)

Listen carefully.

AMADEUS:

I wish to speak to my daughter.

EMILY (V.O./FILTERED)

I'm not interested in what you wish, Mr. Hope. Justfollow directions and stick to the plan. Am I clear?

AMADEUS:

Very.

INT. PARKING GARAGE/UPPER LEVEL - DAY

Emily watches the barge move towards the bridge and readjustsher speaking apparatus -- it's a voice filter and it's a real b*tch talkingthrough this rig.

EMILY:

Do you see the barge approaching the bridge?

INT. PHONE BOOTH - DAY

Amadeus squints through glass booth walls, notes the approachingbarge, nods.

AMADEUS:

I see it.

EMILY (V.O./FILTERED)

Walk to the bridge, throw the briefcase onto thebarge, and come back to the phone booth for further directions.

AMADEUS:

How do I know you'll release her?

EMILY (V.O./FILTERED)

You don't.

INT. DETECTIVE VAN - DAY

DETECTIVE DAN SIMS is the kind of guy who does his job well,but everything always goes to hell anyway. This gives him a grim take onlife, but he keeps trying. He watches a fellow COP fiddle with telephonetracing equipment. Sims' less than garrulous partner, BARNABY, listens inon an extra set of headphones.

COP:

Sh*t. Cellular phone.

SIMS:

What did you expect? A silver platter?

COP:

Would'a been nice.

Sims stares out the van's polarized window at Amadeus, who'swalking steadily out along the bridge.

SIMS:

It's probably hers -- where's he going?

BARNABY:

To throw the money over the side.

SIMS:

What?

BARNABY:

That's what they just told him to do.

Sims, glaring, grabs for a walkie talkie.

SIMS:

Were you going to tell me before or after he tossedit?

Barnaby shrugs.

SIMS (CONT'D)

(into walkie talkie)

He's throwing the money onto the barge. I want fullsurveillance -- don't lose that barge --

INT. PARKING GARAGE/UPPER LEVEL - DAY

Emily's got the phone balanced precariously on one shoulderas she flips open the trunk of a gray Mercedes Benz and extracts some heavyduty tape. She stands again to stare out at the distant bridge.

Amadeus, stick figure tiny with distance, heaves his briefcaseover the side and starts back to his phone booth at a steady pace.

EMILY:

Nice throw, Dad.

Joggers (i.e. under cover cops), looking like ants fromhere, scramble to keep pace with the barge. Emily laughs softly as she tapesher ankles together.

The phone crackles to life.

AMADEUS (V.O.)

You've got the money. Where's my daughter?

Ankles taped, Emily hops to the edge of the trunk to rummagefor more bondage paraphernalia and holds the voice filter carefully in placewhile she speaks:

EMILY:

You'll find her in the trunk of her car, which isin fifth level parking at --

She pulls a wrinkled slip of paper from her jeans pocketand squints at it --

EMILY (CONT'D)

352 East Tenth Street.

She hangs up and, working fast now, because time is runningout, gags herself -- a real gag: stuffing, knots, the works.

Lifting hand cuffs -- the final touch -- she crawls intothe car's trunk and, still clutching the handcuffs -- presumably for lateruse -- slams the lid closed from the inside.

The ECHO of the slamming trunk reverberates through thedim garage, and dies.

EXT. BRIDGE - DAY

Judging from the number of plain cars screaming out of parkingspaces, it's a good bet they got that address.

INT. DETECTIVE VAN - DAY

Sims comes out of the van at a dead run, talking into awalkie talkie, as undercover cars peel out, SIRENS wailing on as they go.

SIMS:

Odds are someone's still inside monitoring --

He glances at the distant parking structure.

SIMS (CONT'D)

They can still see us from there, turn off the goddamn sirens!

INT. PARKING GARAGE/UPPER LEVEL - DAY

The Mercedes sits innocently in its parking slot. Silence-- except for the slap slap slap of approaching footsteps, and a light,airy tune being whistled by the person approaching.

WILL POGUE ambles nonchalantly between cars, well dressedyuppie at large, just picking up his car and heading home -- or that's whatyou'd think, until he saunters to the Mercedes, casually glances both ways,and a slim jim flashes in the gloom.

He's inside the car, yanking the ignition and starting themotor, between whistles.

EXT. RIVER BARGE - DAY

B.g., a helicopter drones. The barge MATE steps out of thewheelhouse, notices the briefcase on the aft deck, frowns, walks to it,picks it up, shakes it, opens it -- and ogles a million bucks, cash.

MATE:

Holy sh*t!

He spins back to the wheelhouse -- a plea for help.

MATE (CONT'D)

Larry! Larry! You gotta come see this!

The PILOT (let's take a wild guess and assume this is Larry)sticks his head out the wheelhouse cabin's door -- just as a helicopterzooms down and a SHARP SHOOTER aims a high powered rifle straight at themate. A HELICOPTER COP leans out with a megaphone.

HELICOPTER COP (MEGAPHONED)

This is the Portland Police Department. You withthe briefcase, set it down and put your hands on your head.

MATE:

What the -- ?

HELICOPTER COP (MEGAPHONED)

You in the cockpit, pull over immediately.

The mate drops the briefcase and money starts flutteringall the hell over.

INT. POLICE HELICOPTER - DAY

The sharp shooter smirks at the helicopter cop in a superiorway --

SHARP SHOOTER:

It's not a car, John, it's a boat. You don't pullover --

-- when he sees the money take wind --

SHARP SHOOTER (CONT'D)

-- Oh sh*t, the money!

The helicopter cop pales -- still yelling through the megaphone--

HELICOPTER COP (MEGAPHONED)

-- Oh f***, the money. You! Pick the briefcase backup!

Below, the mate wants nothing more to do with that briefcaseand has gotten down on his knees to say a few Hail Marys.

HELICOPTER COP (CONT'D) (MEGAPHONED)

You with your hands over your head, pick that briefcaseup immediately!

EXT. RIVER BARGE - DAY

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