Land of Plenty Page #5

No other listing?

No, no, that's the only one

that I can find

and it's disconnected.

Okay,

uh, I think I've got

a number of a...

parish in Ridgecrest.

It's twenty miles from Trona,

so maybe they can send

someone over.

Oh, that'd be great!

Yeah.

What day is it, anyway?

Alright!

Hi...

I needed to be somewhere today.

Instead, I'm talking to my

twenty year old niece

who all of a sudden wants to

become a private detective.

I'm just trying to help.

I don't need your help!

Where can we talk?

Should we go on the roof?

Good view point...

Okay, so what's his name?

His name is Ahmed.

Ahmed?

Yeah, and I talked

to his brother.

Excuse me?

Well, to his half-brother,

actually.

And that's his only

living relative.

You contacted his brother?

No. The morgue did.

Well, a parish from

Ridgecrest actually,

but then the morgue,

sort of. It's...

And then he called,

he called Henry.

Lana, what the hell are

you talking about?

Well, they need help.

Uhm, the LA morgue e-mailed

a photo of Hassan to Trona.

And his brother

identified the photo,

but he doesn't have a car.

And Henry has offered to pay

for the burial,

but he only has a truck and I don't

think it's appropriate to trans...

I, now wait... Who's Henry?

He's the pastor from here.

You've entirely disrupted

this investigation!

I mean, you don't

have a damn clue

- what's at stake here!

- Okay, I'm sorry,

I didn't mean to

disrupted anything...

Okay, I thought that this

information would help you.

How's this supposed

to help me, huh?

Well, the brother, I mean he

might have some information

that you could use, and...

Yeah?

...and if we woulda take

the body home

then that might be kind of a

good cover for you.

A good cover?!

That's great!

That's just, that's perfect!

Okay...

It all worked out.

Oh, good.

Listen, I appreciate your help.

Likewise.

A lot of people wouldn't

take the time.

No, they wouldn't.

So, uh, what've you got there,

a little flag?

That's right.

So, uh, you're looking

after my niece?

Well, I just gave her a room.

She's pretty good at looking

after herself.

So, you're looking

after her, then?

Yeah, of course.

She's only twenty or so.

Over here!

Wheel it in closer!

In there?

Yeah, in here.

What'd you think?

We're gonna tie

him up on top?

Okay, let's go!

Wow, wow...

Oh, I've never seen a set-up

like that before!

Excuse me!

You got everything?

I'm..., no.

You're going to need the

coroner's report.

- Did they put that in there?

- Yeah.

You're all set.

Alright, thanks.

Touch base, if you can.

Just give me a call.

God speed!

I guess, you probably

think I'm...

one of these vets that got all

screwed up in 'Nam, right?

On the brink of insanity,

- right?

- Nope...

I'd love you anyway though,

"Uncle" Paul.

You want me to tell you something

about the Vietnam War?

Yeah.

We won!

The war?

That's right!

Metaphorically?

No, in actuality.

It wasn't just the

Vietnam War, you know.

There was a little thing

called the "Cold War", too.

Right.

We stopped the spread of Communism

for ten thousand days.

We drew a line in the jungle,

and eventually they crossed it,

but when they did,

they were already depleted.

They were completely exhausted.

It was a critical time.

A critical place.

We won!

Uncle Paul,

can I ask you a question?

Sure. What do you wanna know?

How come you never

wrote my mom back?

She sent you all those

letters over the years,

can you just tell me why?

I just never opened them,

that's all.

Why?

Well, it's hard to explain.

Listen, sometimes in life, you just

can't sit there, you know.

Sometimes you have

to make a break.

The only way to leave

something behind,

is to leave it all behind.

We didn't always see

eye to eye, you know.

All that fanatic

commie liberal stuff,

and dragging you

around to all those

god-forsaken countries...

But I guess she was

a good mother.

She was.

She should have taught you

what America means.

What it stands for.

She did.

She taught me everything that

it's supposed to stand for.

I think that's the reason

I came back.

Supposed to?

We're in Trona.

Paul Jeffries,

September eighteen,

heading north on

one-seventy-eight...

Now entering the town of Trona.

He lives in the trailer park.

But it doesn't say

which trailer.

Excuse me, please.

We've arrived at position one,

the trailer park.

Outskirts of Trona, California.

Greenwich Mean Time fourteen

hundred hours...

...Fourteen twelve!

What?

It's actually fourteen twelve.

I don't know if that matters?

General time frame is

all I'm looking for.

Preliminary observation

detects inconsistencies,

right off the bat.

There are approximately

twelve to fifteen

dwellings in the compound,

yet for some reason, there are

about forty mailboxes.

I'd like to see someone

explain that one!

Paul...

I was thinking that

it might be best

if I went in and spoke to the family

while you took care of the body.

If that's okay with you.

I just thought that it just might

seem a little bit strange,

driving there with

him in the back.

- It's fine with me.

- Okay...

So why don't we meet back

somewhere over here,

when you're done with the

funeral home, huh?

Sure.

Okay.

Great!

Hey! Hey!

Hey, hey, hey, hey!

What do you think you're doing?

What?

What?!

Does this look like an

amusement park to you?

Do you see any roller coasters?

I don't see any ferries-wheels.

I don't know what you mean.

Listen, don't get delusions

or anything like that,

but you're not

an operative on this.

But anyway,

I have some stuff here...

Police-issued pepper spray...

Don't point that

toward your face!

You may need this...

Do you really think that

I'm gonna need a flashlight?

And this.

If you have to ditch everything,

you do not ditch this!

Alright, maybe you

don't need that.

Okay, channel three.

It has a twenty mile range.

Now, you tell me you

need me, I'm there.

I'm your uncle,

but that part doesn't

really matter...

You're on my Op. Remember,

- okay... You got it?

- Got it!

I said three, right?

- Channel three?

- Channel three.

Okay.

Hello?

What?

I'm sorry,

I don't mean to disturb you.

I'm looking for Mr. Ahmed.

What do you want?

I'm helping out with a family issue.

He's expecting me.

What? What's the matter?

Well, uh, Mr. Ahmed,

I'm just trying to find his home.

I don't know anybody

like that, no!

Is he... Is he dark-skin?

Excuse me?

The dark-skin guy lives in the

last trailer up the hill.

The last trailer up the hill...

It's Paul Jeffries.

Fourteen hundred

and twenty hours,

one hundred and eighty miles from

the epicentre of Los Angeles.

Striking distance,

but a world apart! Trona.

Look at this place!

A couple of pedestrians,

a few stool pigeons sitting

around without a clue...

But they're here!

Sleeper cells.

I can feel 'em!

Hello?

Massive numbers of

burned dwellings.

Completely... charred,

flamed to the ground.

At first pass I can determine

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes