John Q Page #8

J.Q. (CONT'D)

Here we go.

EXT. HOPE MEMORIAL HOSPITAL - DAY

The summer sun beats down as cop cars careen into the parking lot. Behind them, an unmarked Crown Victoria plows slowly through a growing crowd. LIEUTENANT FRANK GRIMES bails out before the car stops, smoothing out the wrinkles in his rumpled suit. He reacts with surprise when he sees veteran, on-the-spot news reporter, Tuck Lampley, already on the scene with his camera crew.

GRIMES:

What are you doing here, Lampley? Shouldn't you be out exposing tragic miscarriages or justice or something?

LAMPLEY:

Yeah, well, screw you, too.

Grimes pushes past, but Lampley dogs him.

LAMPLEY (CONT'D)

There's a rumor floating around, Frank. Some guy's holding the hospital hostage. Needs an operation for his kid. Any truth to it?

GRIMES:

You know more than I do.

LAMPLEY:

You're full of sh*t.

GRIMES:

Hey, then we're even. I never believe a word you guys say either.

LAMPLEY:

This is big, isn't it, Frank? I can feel it. Come on, what do you got?

GRIMES:

Zip. Nothing. Read my lips. I just got here. But I promise, as soon as I know anything, you'll be the last to know.

LAMPLEY:

Hey, Grimes. You're a real horse's ass. You know that?

GRIMES:

Yeah, well...

Grimes chuckles as he moves past the police barricade, sizing up his territory. He runs into swat team SERGEANT TIM MOODY, already on the scene. Moody's accompanied by the pimply faced security guard who phoned it in.

MOODY:

This guy's in for the long haul, Lieutenant. He locked down the ER, barricaded himself inside, killed the power on the elevators. We could bust down the door, but the sonofabitch might start killing everybody.

GRIMES:

Any other way in?

MOODY:

I'm working on it.

GRIMES:

How many hostages?

MOODY:

Security guard here said there could be anywhere from ten to twenty.

GRIMES:

Any security cameras?

PIMPLY FACED SECURITY GUARD

The guy took out the one in the ER, sir. But the hospital has two covert pinpoints hidden inside the treatment facility.

GRIMES:

Pinpoint cameras? I don't understand.

PIMPLY FACED SECURITY GUARD

The hospital's own private security. Every hospital has them, in case a mental patient goes crazy or an employee starts stealing pharmaceuticals.

MOODY:

They're hidden in the walls throughout the hospital. There's two inside the ER area.

GRIMES:

Can we get them?

MOODY:

We're setting up a video tap right now. Should be up and running in a few minutes.

Grimes looks at the pimply-faced kid.

GRIMES:

Are you in charge of security?

PIMPLY FACED SECURITY GUARD

No, sir. That'd be Wally Pitoniak. He's at home. It's his day off.

GRIMES:

Not anymore it ain't. Get him down here.

(to Moody)

I need to make contact with this guy. Can you get me a secure line?

PIMPLY FACED SECURITY GUARD

Lieutenant? One of our guys is on the inside. He's got a walkie-talk. You might want to give this a shot.

The kid hands Grimes his walkie-talkie.

GRIMES:

Alright, but put a clamp on all phone lines to the Emergency Room. If he picks up the phone, I want him talking to me.

MOODY:

Got it.

Grimes looks around, sees more news vans arriving.

GRIMES:

And keep the media on a need to know basis. Until I say so, the press doesn't need to know nothing. Now who's in charge of this hospital?

PIMPLY FACED SECURITY GUARD

Rebecca Payne, sir. She's off today, too.

GRIMES:

Jesus Christ. Does anyone work at this hospital?

PIMPLY FACED SECURITY GUARD

It's Saturday.

GRIMES:

So what? People get sick on Saturday, don't they?

INT. EMERGENCY ROOM - DAY

J.Q. watches the police build-up outside. Rosa is holding her baby, who is quieter now, not crying.

J.Q.

How old is he? Cuantos anos?

ROSA:

Ocho meses. Eight month.

J.Q. nods. Memories.

J.Q.

Eight months. Great age.

Dr. Klein approaches J.Q. with Miriam.

DR. KLEIN

I'll need to do an internal examination on this woman.

J.Q.

Go.

J.Q. sees Steve, the woman's husband, picking at his fingernails, anxious.

J.Q. (CONT'D)

Why'd you come to an ER? Why not go right to Maternity?

STEVE:

Miriam went into labor early. Her water broke, we called our doctor, got the service.

MITCH:

Excuse me, but I think my fiancee broke her arm. Could somebody take a look at her, please?

J.Q. moves over to Julie, regards her black eye, her swollen face.

MITCH (CONT'D)

She's fine, ain't she? All that and twenty-two years old. Little slice of heaven. Must be doing something right, am I right?

J.Q. looks at Mitch. Is this guy for real?

J.Q.

(to Julie)

What's your story?

MITCH:

Car accident. What does it look like?

J.Q.

I was talking to her.

JULIE:

A drunk ran a red light and slammed into us. It was an accident.

A muffled voice suddenly squawks on the security guard's walkie-talkie.

GRIMES (O.S.)

Hello? Hello? Anyone there?

J.Q. grabs the guard's walkie-talkie, presses TALK.

J.Q.

Yeah.

EXT. HOPE MEMORIAL HOSPITAL - COMMAND POST - DAY

INTERCUT:

The police have cordoned off a section of the parking lot and transformed it into a command post. Police personnel invade the area. Tables, phones, and monitors are being set up.

GRIMES:

This is Lieutenant Frank Grimes of the Chicago Police Department. Are you the man in charge?

J.Q.

That's right.

GRIMES:

Who am I speaking to?

J.Q. pauses.

GRIMES (CONT'D)

Come on, my friend. We're going to be doing a lot of talking today. You don't have to give me your real name, but I've got to call you something.

J.Q.

Call me John Q.

GRIMES:

Alright, John Q. Again, my name is Lieutenant Grimes. But I want you to call me Frank. Can you do that?

J.Q.

Sure, Frank.

GRIMES:

I'm the hostage negotiator. I've been a cop for thirty-five years and this is all I do. I don't play games. And I don't fool around. So if I say something, you can take it to the bank. Now, let's get down to it. Is anybody hurt?

J.Q.

It's an Emergency Room, Frank. Everybody's hurt.

Frank smiles. This guy's a comedian.

J.Q. (CONT'D)

They're fine.

GRIMES:

Good. As long as it stays that way, we can keep talking.

Grimes walks along the perimeter of the police barricade. A crowd of lookie-loos is starting to gather.

GRIMES (CONT'D)

Murphy's Law, John. You picked the hottest day of the year. It's a hundred degrees out here. And I'm allergic to the heat. So let's wrap this up as quickly as possible. Now, what exactly is it you want?

J.Q.

Find Rebecca Payne, Hope Memorial's Administrative Supervisor. Tell her I want my kid's name on the donor list.

GRIMES:

Kid? Boy or girl?

J.Q.

Boy.

GRIMES:

How old? You know, I've got two boys. Two girls and two boys.

J.Q.

Don't handle me, Frank. I don't want to be handled. It insults my intelligence. If I don't get what I want, you're going to have a lot of dead bodies on your hands. You only need to remember two things. My kid and the donor list. You got that?

GRIMES:

Take it easy, John. The idea's not to get too excited.

J.Q.

Mike's name goes on that list or there's going to be a blood bath in here.

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