The Limey Page #13

ED:

You think a f***in' guy like that ever

will? What more do you want, man?

Suddenly out of nowhere -- (a side street) -- BAM! -- another

car shoots out to cut them off, sideswiping them.

EXT. ROAD.

Wilson's car SKIDS into a spin from the impact.

THE OTHER CAR:

It's Avery. Chased them via a shortcut down the mountain.

Now jumps out of his car, levels a shotgun at them and pumps

off a BLAST.

WILSON'S CAR

BAM! -- the trunk pops open as the car rights itself. Avery

FIRES again, but the upended trunk is a kind of shield,

deflecting the shot.

INT. WILSON'S CAR.

Despite the fact that Ed is still in the driver's seat (and

managed rather skillfully to avoid crashing) -- Wilson acts

like he's not there, grabs the steering wheel, jams the car

into reverse, virtually sitting on Ed as he pounds his own

foot onto the gas pedal -- and with his ferocious eyes

monitoring the door-mirror, steamrolls the car backwards

towards Avery.

EXT. ROAD.

Wilson reverses his car like a speeding tank: SMASHING into

Avery's car. Pushing it right off the edge of the road.

AVERY:

Falls backwards to the ground as he gets the hell out of the

way.

WILSON:

Jumps out of his car. Gun drawn. Advancing on Avery with it

pointed.

AVERY'S CAR

CRASHING through underbrush down the steep bank of the

hillside.

WILSON'S FACE

SOUND of the divebombing car OVER. Another pointed echo of

his daughter's fate.

AVERY:

Their eyes meet momentarily. And before Wilson can shoot,

Avery rolls over the edge of the road himself.

ED:

Calls frantically to Wilson from their car.

ED:

C'mon, man! C'mon!

SIRENS in the distance.

WILSON:

That consuming rage overtaken him again for a second. But

the exigencies of the moment snap him out of it.

WILSON:

Turns on a dime, goes back to the car. Before he's halfway

in, Ed's driving them away again. Trunk at the back BANGING

up and down, up and down.

AVERY:

Pulls himself back up to the road. Brushing himself off.

Looking the way they went.

He gently tosses his shotgun down into some thick brush where

maybe he'll retrieve it later.

EXT. VALENTINE'S HOUSE. AFTERNOON.

Avery returns, sweating, walking back up the road to where

all the action is. Party guests milling outside, waiting for

their cars so they can leave. A fire truck, a police car.

SMOKE pouring out of Valentine's garage.

Valentine finishes talking to a couple of COPS. Walks over to

Avery.

AVERY:

You should have let me do the talking.

VALENTINE:

Why, because you're my security

consultant?

(insecure)

This cocksucker nearly burnt my house

down.

AVERY:

(more concerned about police

presence)

What did you tell them.

Valentine blows air, runs a hand through his hair.

VALENTINE:

I told them a long-time employee flipped

out. Had a drug problem, refused

counselling. Set the garage on fire,

then committed suicide. One of my

"guests" tried to stop him -- but how do

you stop Gordon.

In this context meaning how did that rangy Englishman do it.

VALENTINE:

I mean, Gordon must weigh a good four

hundred pounds.

AVERY:

Heavier than that now. But are there any

drugs in that stomach to back up your

story.

VALENTINE:

As it happens. I didn't make that part

up.

AVERY:

And where is this guest? Don't they want

to interview him.

VALENTINE:

I don't know everyone here. He was so

traumatized he split.

(another notion)

Maybe he was Gordon's pusher.

Avery stares at Valentine. Impressed at him thinking on his

feet.

VALENTINE:

Where do you think he is, Mike.

AVERY:

(already turning)

We'll find him.

VALENTINE:

(stops him)

No. I mean. Not even your people should

be involved. Right? It's too close now.

AVERY:

You could use a few of my prime

shitkickers up here.

VALENTINE:

You think I'm staying?

AVERY:

There's already gonna be talk about how

people close to you keep falling into

canyons.

VALENTINE:

Well, can we make it one more. Nowhere

the f*** near me.

He's being glib, but he's being serious. His open-handed

gesture inquiring of Avery: are you up to the task?

AVERY:

I have other resources.

He turns to go.

EXT. VALENTINE'S HOUSE. CANYON. AFTERNOON.

The huge dead bulk of Gordon hoisted back up to the deck by a

paramedic team.

INT. VALENTINE'S HOUSE.

Valentine comes back in. In the living room beyond, Adhara

stands anxiously, where she's been waiting for him. Cops

visible outside on the deck, peering over the edge.

VALENTINE:

Heading that way. Then stops. Backtracks. Something

peripherally had caught his eye and he returns to it. His

wall of photographs.

AN EMPTY FRAME:

The one that had contained the picture of Jenny.

CUT.

INT. WILSON'S CAR. AFTERNOON.

Safely down the hill. Driving away in traffic, Ed calmer

now.

WILSON:

Pulls the rolled-up photograph of his daughter out of his

jacket and looks at it.

CUT.

INT. POOL HALL. NIGHT.

Two characters stand, leaning, against a back wall. Staring

ahead, without purpose. Halfheartedly watching a game of

pool in progress. Just hanging out. Strange, threatening

characters. One of them is young. Lean, hungry-looking.

STACY is his name. A shrewd, scheming kid. But definitely a

little unhinged. Weirder is his companion. UNCLE JOHN. The

title isn't one of courtesy. He's an actual blood relative.

Maybe 25 years older than Stacy. But intellectually younger.

Physically, much bigger. The man is huge. Nevertheless, the

safer of the two -- until Stacy tells him otherwise. Way

they're standing next to each other suggests the ease they

feel in each other's company. Tight bond. They're good

buddies.

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