Get Carter Page #2

DAVIS:

Yes, I grasp the concept.

JACK:

So why are you putting ten grand

on Miami when they’re playing in

Green Bay and it’s twenty below

zero?

(as Davis says

nothing)

I’m sorry that it got this

pathetic, but you owe ninety-six

thousand -

DAVIS:

I owe eighty-seven!

JACK:

You owe eighty-seven plus a ten

percent book fee. I’m letting

that 49ers incident slide. But

it’s time to act intelligent.

You’ve dealt with Dex, he’s

allowed you to be fiscally

irresponsible, it’s over.

Davis laughs and gives a condescending shake of the head.

Jack punches him hard in the face for this. Blood rushes

painfully from Davis’s nose. It’s so crazy in the diner,

however, nobody notices a thing.

JACK:

It’s okay. Ssshh. You’ll be

fine.

DAVIS:

(softly whimpering)

You broke my f***ing nose!

JACK:

It’s okay. Ssshh. You’ll still

be able to trade.

Jack practically holds him up in the booth and hands him

napkins. Davis looks ready to faint as Jack whispers.

(CONTINUED)

8.

CONTINUED:

JACK:

Rich fathers set spoiled children

up with trusts. They do this for

tax purposes. Where do we go to

get it?

Davis looks down to his engraved "DW" briefcase. Jack

kicks it across the floor. Patrons look over as Jack

turns to ice.

JACK:

Don’t be a loser, Davis.

CUT TO:

EXT. FIFTH AVENUE -AFTERNOON

A taxi weaves through traffic.

INT. CAB -JACK’S POV

The same briefcase now contains $96,000 and a nickel-

plated .45. Jack flips through to make sure it’s all

there and shuts it. Outside, NYC. Freakshow central.

EXT. CENTRAL PARK EAST -STEADY ON JACK

Briefcase in hand, he exits the cab and heads for his

complex. He nods at the doorman as he opens the door.

INT. LOBBY -JACK’S POV

TWO DETECTIVES are there to meet him with their badges.

ANOTHER ANGLE:

DETECTIVE #1

Mr. Carter? I’m Detective Carr,

this is Detective Feinberg.

N.Y.P.D.

JACK:

(a nervous nod)

What can I do for you?

DETECTIVE #2

Do you have a brother named Frank

back in Los Angeles, Mr. Carter?

(CONTINUED)

9.

CONTINUED:

Jack hesitates and nods. The two Detectives just stare

at him. Jack is quickly filled with regret and sadness.

DETECTIVE #1

I’m sorry, Mr. Carter.

JACK:

How did it happen?

DETECTIVE #1

L.A.P.D.’s calling it a

carjacking.

JACK:

Gunshot wound?

DETECTIVE #2

Yes, sir. One casing. .357

Magnum.

Jack doesn’t know how to feel. Detective #2 suspiciously

looks at his briefcase.

JACK:

Well... thank you very much. For

notifying me.

DETECTIVE #1

You’re welcome, sir.

Jack nods and heads for the elevator.

INT. ELEVATOR -TIGHT ON JACK

As he moves up the elevator, this news hits him harder.

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. APARTMENT -AFTERNOON

In his boxer shorts, Jack sits before the windows and a

half-bottle of Maker’s Mark. An entertainment center

lies on the floor next to him in shambles. A 53-inch TV

destroyed. A four-deck stereo. The only things remotely

intact on the floor are his CDs and a framed photo.

TIGHT ON OLD PHOTO

A happy couple with their baby daughter. The man

resembles Jack. He stares at it.

(CONTINUED)

10.

CONTINUED:

Blood leaks from his arm, obviously from the destruction.

Jack finishes his snifter and arrives at a decision. He

rises and coolly heads back into the master.

INT. MASTER BEDROOM -LARGE BLACK SAFE

Jack soberly turns the combo and opens it.

SMASH CUT TO:

EXT. AMTRAK STATION -LATE NIGHT

Cars pass a bridge at blinding speed.

INT. TRAIN CABIN -DINNER TRAY

Remnants of a garden salad. PAN TO the hanging bag.

TWO HANDGUNS AND HOLSTERS

Jack snaps a clip into a Browning .45. Double action.

SIGHTING POV:

A forceful PAN ACROSS the window.

BACK TO SCENE:

He slips the .45 into a holster and back into the hanging

bag. He repeats the process with a Heckler and Koch P-7

9mm. He then unzips a large pocket to reveal a

disassembled:

Mossberg .12 gauge shotgun. Jack takes a casual sip of

Evian, snaps the barrel into the rifle stock, and

pumps -

CUT TO:

INT. TRAIN BAR -LATE NIGHT

Jack greets the bartender with a nod.

JACK:

Maker’s Mark neat.

The barkeep grabs a shot glass.

(CONTINUED)

11.

CONTINUED:

JACK:

In a snifter.

Barkeep gives him a look and Jack’s there to meet it.

JACK:

Please. Thank you.

Jack checks his quiet surroundings and takes a sip.

CUT TO:

INT. TRAIN BATHROOM -EARLY MORNING

Jack stops shaving and concentrates on his reflection,

still saddened by the news.

INT. TRAIN DINING CAR -LATER

In preppy-casual, he reads the Wall Street Journal and

sips orange juice. Outside, whizzing by, is a sun-

scorched prairie.

SLOW DISSOLVE TO:

INT. TRAIN CABIN 3C -NIGHT

Jack’s furrowed reflection comes INTO VIEW as he talks on

his cell phone. He shuts if off then shuts his eyes.

On the track --A loud TRAIN HORN.

MATCH CUT TO:

INT. TRAIN CABIN -DAY

Jack opens his eyes to the palm-tree-lined landscape of

downtown Los Angeles.

EXT. DOWNTOWN TRAIN STATION -LATER

Jack exits the train, hanging bag now open lengthwise and

draped over his shoulder.

INT. DOWNTOWN TRAIN STATION -CONTINUOUS ACTION

Jack speaks into his cell phone receiver.

(CONTINUED)

12.

CONTINUED:

JACK:

Gloria? Are you okay? No, don’t

get in the car. I’ll grab a cab.

CUT TO:

EXT. SHOTS OF LOS ANGELES -LATE AFTERNOON

Koreatown. Griffith Observatory. The Hollywood Hills.

Mexican take-out and 7-Elevens.

EXT. 101 FREEWAY NORTH -ORANGE TAXICAB

It crawls through Friday traffic.

INT. TAXI -TIGHT ON JACK

Dry and relaxed.

WIDER:

The foreign driver sweats like Nixon.

JACK:

I hate this dirty town.

CUT TO:

EXT. VALLEY SUBURB TWO-STORY HOUSE -LATER

Jack graciously tips the cabbie and takes stock of the

rundown house. He checks up and down the street. After

a long and reflective moment -

VOICE (O.S.)

I took a Valium and it literally

knocked me out.

Jack turns to GLORIA CARTER, Frank’s widow, standing in

the doorwell. Mid-forties and still beautiful, the last

few years have taken their toll.

GLORIA:

I’m sorry.

JACK:

Don’t apologize to me, Gloria.

Jack smiles before he gives her a passionate hug.

13.

INT. SMALL THREE-BEDROOM -JACK’S POV

They enter.

GLORIA:

knows it’s untidy but can’t help it.

Fifteen year-old DOREEN CARTER, an attractive blonde with

a sad expression, locks eyes with Jack as she scoops

laundry out of the dryer.

GLORIA:

Doreen? You remember your Uncle

Jack.

Doreen gives a long and almost unforgiving stare.

JACK:

Hello, Doreen.

She nods, finishes scooping her laundry into the basket

and disappears into her bedroom. Gloria can only offer a

"what did you expect?" shrug to Jack.

GLORIA:

You can put your bag in the office

if you like.

JACK:

Thank you.

Jack watches her disappear into the kitchen and he heads

toward the back office.

INT. OFFICE -JACK’S POV

A desk, a file cabinet, a sofa-hide-a-bed.

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