Smokin' Aces Page #20

MESSNER:

What kind of uniforms?

SHERIFF DEPUTY (O.S.)

Receipt wasn't specific, the uniforms

were just listed as maroon in color.

Carruthers mashes the floorboard, brakes smoke, power swerve,

slicing the rented Taurus across four lanes of traffic.

MESSNER:

Alright, deputy, we'll be there as

soon as possible, until we arrive, I

need you to limit physical access

and restrict movement to and from

the crime scene. Clear?

Messner clicks off.

CARRUTHERS:

Maroon uniforms?

MESSNER:

Yeah. Have you been able to get

through to the Nomad's security?

CARRUTHERS:

No.

(beat, decision)

I'm going over there. You take the

car from there, get out to the lake.

Carruthers pushes 110mph, barreling toward the Nomad, blowing

through traffic -- Both men pull out IFB/earpiece apparatus,

plugging in, checking their signals.

MESSNER:

You going up to the Penthouse alone?

Carruthers pulls a .45 from his holster, driving with his

knees now, he jacks the slide, checks for a chambered round.

CARRUTHERS:

Yeah.

The slide releases --

SYKES (V.O.)

That's a bad move.

CUT TO:

INT. NOMAD HOTEL SUITE -- DAY

Sykes, stowing a Glock 9mm, tweaking the earpiece/mic combo

she's wearing -- getting primped, leather mini-skirt, lace

garters, thigh-high platform boots; hooker de coutage.

WATTERS (O.S.)

Why?

SYKES:

'Cuz we don't need to draw any more

sh*t down on our heads. We hit

whoever's between us and Israel. I

don't want to dead the whole floor

and I don't want to be killing women

no matter how they make a living.

WATTERS:

Wait, I'm getting some f***ed up

feedback off that earpiece --

Sykes pulls her earpiece, adjusts something, re-inserts it.

SYKES:

Better?

WHIP PAN TRANSITION TO:

INT. HORIZON HOTEL AND CASINO -- SAME

The Hotel just across the street from the Nomad. Watters on

a headset, talking to Sykes, looking out the window.

WATTERS:

Much.

On a room service tray near Watters; scanners monitor calls

and in-house transmissions within The Nomad.

SYKES:

What are you hearin' right now?

Watters adjusts one of the scanners, searching for a signal.

WATTERS:

Nuthin', we cool. There was somethin'

about a fed being in the building.

INTERCUT BETWEEN THE TWO:

SYKES:

A Fed? Like FBI?

WATTERS:

It's just a little casino inspection,

don't trip, he's alone.

(beat, then)

Alright, let's set this spinnin'...

Sykes checks her reflection, makes sure her holsters aren't

peeking out, weapons adequately conformed to her curves.

SYKES:

When them tricks hit the lobby, holla

at me and I'm gonna meet them on the

way up, blend in. Once I get inside,

I'mma put m'Nina to Israel's head

and back out hot. Anybody's fucks

with that program, y'break 'em off.

They get gully --

WATTERS:

I'mma grip and rip girl.

(holding up a red-

tipped bullet)

I got some handloads here ready to

cut heads.

SYKES:

Jus' remember, this is more rescuin'

sh*t than rampagin' sh*t... What are

you shootin'?

WATTERS:

...Girl, y'know I had to bring big

mamma through.

PULL BACK TO REVEAL

A .50 Caliber sniper-rifle on a tri-pod, jutting just past

the window, zeroed ut on the Penthouse level of the Nomad.

SYKES:

You got the fifty up? B*tch y'tryin'

t'take down a jumbo jet? Blown the

moon out the sky? T'f*** you wanna

get that grimy?

WATTERS:

The try t'wild out on my boo and

it's on and crackin'! I'm layin'

niggas out.

SYKES:

Damn, this kevlar ridin' up on me, I

wish they made this more sheer.

Watters puts her eye to the scope, scans, finds SYKES in the

crosshairs across the way, adjusting her outfit. Watters

settles on her, watches... something vaguely creepy about

this bit of voyeurism. She nuzzles the Barrett close.

WATTERS:

Mmmm. I tell you, I snuggle up with

big girl here and my p*ssy start

t'drip.

Sykes grimaces. Watters sees it, smiles to herself.

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