Point Break Page #15

Pappas has his shirt hiked up as another agent, BABBIT,

tapes a microphone transmitter to his stomach. Pappas

talks into his top button.

PAPPAS:

Good of you to join us, hotshot.

(to Babbit)

Watch it. I told you, not on the

hairs, goddammit.

Babbit moves the transmitter, putting the tape on

differently.

UTAH:

I'm ready to rock, Angelo. Where

you want me?

PAPPAS:

Cole and Munoz are going in the back

door. Babbit is backing me. So I

want you at the side window by the

hedge. You're strictly backup, got

it?

UTAH:

Got it.

PAPPAS:

Awright. Get into position. I'm

rolling.

Pappas pulls the loose Hawaiian shirt down over the radio-

mike gear and his stalwart .38 snub.

He steps out from behind a fence and walks along the

sidewalk toward Bunker's house, two doors down. He is

wearing polyester shorts and sandals, and carrying a DOG

LEASH.

PAPPAS:

Here Scooby! Where are you boy?

Here Scooby!! You furball piece of

sh*t.

COLE AND MUNOZ snap around the corner of the garage and

sprint low toward the rear of the brown stucco house.

UTAH circles back out through the alley. TRACKING WITH

HIM as he makes it to the neighbor's back hedge and crab-

walks toward Bunker's house. BABBIT and ANOTHER AGENT

make it to the front corner of the stucco house, staying

out of sight of the windows.

ANGELO is walking up to the falling-down porch of this

low-rent roach-hotel.

JOHNNY is elbow-crawling between the house and a tall

hedge.

He slides quietly in below a bedroom window.

He pulls out the little leather kit he tucked in his

waistband. Removes something from it. A DENTAL MIRROR.

Moving slowly, he raises it above the window sill, angling

it where he can see inside.

TIGHT ON DENTAL MIRROR, Johnny's POV.

We see a bedroom through a gap in the venetian blind.

Tone is lying on the bed, wearing headphones. Cranked up

speedmetal.

His eyes are screwed shut, and his fists pump to the beat

like karate on 40,000 volts.

The door to a bathroom is open, and the black-haired girl

can be made out behind rippled shower glass.

TIGHT ON DOORBELL as Pappas rings it.

UTAH JUMPS at an explosion of sound. He spins in a

microsecond, pistol aimed at... A LAWN MOWER.

Through the hedge we can just see THE NEIGHBOR, sixtyish

and polyester clad, as he adjusts the choke on the roaring

machine about two feet from Johnny's face. Utah exhales

and lowers the gun. Wipes sweat from his eyes.

TIGHT ON PAPPAS, smiling open-faced and goofily charming

as...

THE DOOR opens, revealing a GIRL we haven't seen before.

She has hair like bleached fiberglass, black eye-makeup

and nails. Ramones-style wardrobe. She looks tense, and

won't open the door very far.

FIBERGLASS:

Yeah? What?

PAPPAS:

Have you seen a little dog? Kind of

a cockapoo lookin' thing. About

this big.

FIBERGLASS:

No.

UTAH blinks at what he sees.

HIS POV, in the little mirror.

Like a silent pantomime under the ROAR OF THE MOWER, he

sees Bunker and Warchild come flying into the room.

They are hyper and manic. Eyes wild.

Bunker leaps clear over the bed.

Grabs a COMBAT SHOTGUN from the closet. Throws it to

Warchild. Tone is oblivious.

Bunker thumps him in the chest and Tone leaps up like an

overwound toy, gaping "What the f***?!" we read his lips

saying.

Bunker grabs a STEYR ASSAULT RIFLE, white knuckled, while

Tone fumbles around and comes up with a .45 COLT AUTO.

UTAH:

(into his headset)

Babbit. Get Angelo out of there.

They're pulling out a f***ing

arsenal! Babbit, you copy? Cole?

Don't let him pull his badge!

EXT. BACK YARD

Cole and Munoz push their earpieces in deeper. Scowl.

MUNOZ:

Utah, say again. What?

(to Cole)

I can't hear jack sh*t over this

lawnmower. Christ.

INT. RAZORHEAD'S HOUSE

In the bedroom, Bunker looks through a slit of door at

Fiberglass. We hear Pappas just outside.

PAPPAS (V.O.)

... and the guy next door said he

saw it go into your backyard. My

wife'll kill me if I lose the little

bastard. Me, I could care less.

Whole house smells from it's liftin'

its leg all the time...

Bunker looks like he's on paranoia overdrive.

BUNKER:

Something's goin' down, man. This

ain't right.

TONE:

(freaked)

No, man, it's nothin'. It's

nothin'.

BUNKER:

Will you shut the f*** up! Check

the windows. Do it!!

EXT. RAZORHEAD'S HOUSE

Utah sucks up against the wall as Warchild looks furtively

out the window. We see them both, but Warchild doesn't

see Johnny, plastered right below him.

Johnny closes his eyes and grits his teeth. Shiiiiittt!

PAPPAS, AT THE FRONT DOOR, is bobbing his head, trying to

look inside.

PAPPAS:

You sure he isn't out back? You

mind if I go take a look?

FIBERGLASS:

Look, I don't know anything about

your dog, okay--

PAPPAS:

Well is there anyone else here that

might have seen him?

FIBERGLASS:

There's nobody else here...

INT. HOUSE

Warchild slams into the wall next to Bunker.

WARCHILD:

There's two guys by the back door.

Ducked down.

TONE:

Oh, sh*t. Sh*t!! We're f***ed,

man.

BUNKER:

That fat f*** comes through the door

I'm gonna pump him up. Swear to

Christ, man, I'm gonna blow the dude

up!

Scared and vicious, like a cornered dog. We believe him.

Bunker jacks the bolt on the Steyr. Warchild c*cks the

shotgun.

EXT. HOUSE

JOHNNY is pissing himself. He can see it all going down.

So fast he doesn't have time to think.

He goes into motion -- slipping rapidly along the wall to

the next window.

The bathroom window.

PAPPAS, AT THE FRONT DOOR, makes his move.

He pushes the door open, breaking the security chain, and

jams his FBI shield in the girl's face as he grabs her

arm.

PAPPAS:

FBI, gorgeous. Now let's take a

look around--

INT. HOUSE

Bunker's eyes bug out as he sees Pappas coming through the

door. He snaps the assault rifle to his shoulder.

Suddenly Johnny is behind him -- half-in the bathroom

window, pistol gripped double-handed like they taught him

in Quantico.

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