RONIN Page #11

The SIRENS reach a crescendo as a group of GENDARMES arrive,

charging with automatic weapons drawn. Between the French

cops and our heroes lies the shot up wreck of the Target Car,

and now - Sam takes out a GRENADE, pulls the pin, and rolls

it across the ground, beneath the Mercedes, which the cops

have just reached. Seconds later - The Car EXPLODES, cutting

off the cops, and as this happens, Vincents puts the pedal to

the floor and gets the f*** out of Dodge. We start to SLOWLY

PULL BACK on the remains of this battle: the dead bodies, the

shot up cars, the broken glass, and that flaming, smoking

hulk of a Mercedes in the middle of the street.

DISSOLVE TO:

EXT. THE OLD CITY/NICE - SUNSET

The FIREBALL of the car turns into a BLOOD RED SUN as it sets

in the Western sky, tinting the stone buildings of the Old

City a coppery red.

We're MOVING THROUGH the Old City, through the twists and

turns of what an American would call back alleys but that

pass for streets in this place. It is quiet almost deserted,

then - A TESTOSTERONE CRAZED PLAYBOY whips his sports car

through one of these streets, engine whining, as we - MOVE

DOWN yet another side street, and this sucker really is a

back alley, you couldn't get a car down here if you tried.

Finally, we come to - A RAT TRAP OF AN OLD BUILDING, and we

PUSH TIGHT on this building as we hear -

LARRY (V.O.)

What is this?

INT. A BACK APARTMENT - SAME TIME

A SYRINGE is plunged into Larry's arm. Sam is tending to

Larry's wound. Sam seems to know what he's doing, as Larry

is also hooked up to a bottle of plasma hanging on a make-

shift stand.

SAM:

(answering Larry's question)

It's a cocktail. Mostly demerol, cut

with a little crank because we might need

you awake in the real near future.

LARRY:

Fine with f***ing me, we got work to do.

I don't care what it takes, we are

getting our property back and putting it

into the hands of the people who are

gonna pay us a great deal of money when

we do. I don't know about the rest of you

guys, but I'm not the kind of guy

to just sit back and take it in the ass.

(a quick beat)

I don't mean that in, like, a literal

way...

DEIRDRE:

Of course.

VINCENT:

Finding this package is a thing easier

said than done. We don't even know what

it is.

(he looks at Deirdre, and

suddenly he's deadly earnest)

What did we steal?

DEIRDRE:

(suddenly defensive)

I don't know.

VINCENT:

When this whole thing started you made it

clear:
you're running the show. And I

don't believe you'd be running this show

if you didn't know what was going on.

DEIRDRE:

Well I don't!

VINCENT:

And I don't believe you...

Vincent's gun is out in the blink of an eye, at Deirdre's

head, but she's as fast as he is and her gun is drawn as

well, jammed into his stomach.

DEIRDRE:

(suddenly feral)

You go shoot me if you want, Vincent, but

you'll be dead before I hit the ground.

VINCENT:

(matching her intensity)

I don't want you dead, woman, I want the

the truth!

SAM (O.S.)

(with a dead cool in his voice)

Both of you...

ANOTHER ANGLE - Sam has the two of them covered with his gun -

an interesting moment, because he can shoot either Deirdre or

Vincent, but not both at the same time. The question is:

whose side is he on?

SAM:

(continuing without missing a

beat)

...put your guns down and chill out.

A BEAT. And then Vincent and Deirdre lower their weapons,

followed by Sam.

SAM:

Like it or now, we're on the same side:

we're here and the package isn't.

(looks at Deirdre)

You're not the boss any more, you're our

partner. So tell us what you know, so we

can figure a way out of this mess.

Sam's look isn't romantic, but it implies a level of trust

based upon their physical intimacy.

SAM:

Now, what did we steal?

DEIRDRE:

(she hates to admit this)

I don't know...

(defensively, off Vincent's

look)

Well I don't! It's a goddamned mystery

to me just like it is to you.

(quick beat, then reluctantly

continuing)

But I do know who we're working for. My

people, and the Russian mob.

LARRY:

Your people? Who the f*** is your

people?

VINCENT:

Who do you think, Larry? The IRA.

DEIRDRE:

And you believed me?

(passionately)

But it wasn't my people who did it.

LARRY:

How do we know that?

SAM:

Because if they had she'd be gone along

with the package, instead of sitting here

with us.

DEIRDRE:

Exactly. Gregor, he was the Russian's

man. It was my people came up with the

idea for this run, but the Russians who

had the capital to finance it. Gregor,

he was their insurance, and I was ours.

Everybody else was supposed to be

neutral. Gregor must've got to Swede...

LARRY:

I never did trust that blonde f***...

DEIRDRE:

That's why you were riding with him.

VINCENT:

The question still remains: what do we do

now?

SAM:

(he figures something out)

Gregor's cell phone...

Rate this script:4.0 / 1 vote