EXT. A REMOTE AREA OF LAX - DAY
source 2~& United 747 barrels down the runway. It lifts off and passes overhead with a DEAFENING ROAR. And thats when .. .
MARTIN RIGGS STEPS INTO FRAME He looks up at the underbelly of the jet. So low that he could count the rivets. Except Riggs doesn't appear to be in any shape to count anything. Unshaven. Hair matted. A grease-stained baseball cap pulled down low to keep the sun out of his blood-shot eyes. He raises a brown paper bag to his lips. Heaven help us . . . Riggs is back in the bottle.
ANOTHER PART OF THE REMOTE AREA
where a MERCEDES LIMO pulls up to a GULFSTREAM JET. The Gulfstream's engines are REVVING in preparation of take off.
MARTIN RIGGS
staggering drunkenly through the weeds and tall grass that fringe this remote section of the airport.
Behind him, a Delta 727 touches down. Wheels SLAMMING against the runway; brakes SQUEALING; jet engines SCREAMING in reverse thrust.
THE MERCEDES AND THE GULFSTREAM
FOUR MEN emerge from the Mercedes. South Africans. HANS, PETER, KARL and ROLF.
Karl pops open the trunk and SEVERAL SUITCASES are quickly unloaded and placed on the tarmac beside the Mercedes
Peter's eyes dart furtively behind his black-out shades. Karl SHUTS the Mercedes trunk lid. Hans picks up two of the suitcases and takes a step toward the Gulfstream -- then stops abruptly.
Why? Because a drunk is weaving towards them.
Riggs rolls his eyes. Takes another hit from the bottle in the brown paper sack. Licks his lips. Stumbles. Regains his balance. Advances toward the men.
The South Africans exchange a look, then Hans moves forward to intercept Riggs.
HANS
Hey, buddy. Where you going? RIGGS (speech slurred)
Anybody seen a dog? Lookin' for my dog. Ran off and got lost. Maybe you seen him? A brown dog? Four legs . . . one tail. Face like this -~
Riggs contorts his face into a weird expression.
Hans spins Riggs around, points him in the opposite direction and gives him a shove.
HANS
Go sleep it off somewhere.
Riggs takes several wobbly steps, then stops -- bends at the waist -- appears to PUKE his guts out. Hans grimaces. And that's when...
A FORD BRONCO ROARS INTO THE SCENE
Brakes SQUEALING as it skids up to The South Africans turn to look -- that something has gone very wrong
the Gulfstream. knowing instantly for them.
CAMERA PUSHES IN ON RIGGS‘ BACK
as Riggs straightens up and spins around. . . eyes
clear and alive; wider than hell -~ nostrils flaring
-- arm extended, gripping a silver NINE MILLIMETER BERETTA that flashes in the midday sun. This is one very dangerous, and very sober cop we have here.
AN UNMARKED POLICE SEDAN
SKIDS up from another direction. ROGER MURTAUGH leaps out with his pistol drawn. Riggs regards Murtaugh with an expression that is hardly welcoming.
Riggs sticks a hand under his shirt with a. disgusted expression and YANKS out the WIRE he's been wearing.
THREE COPS
have jumped from the Ford Bronco with service revolvers drawn. They wear jeans and distinctive satin jackets that have "L.A.P.D DRUG ENFORCEMENT" lettered on the back. We'll see these guys again. Their names are: TIM CAVANAUGH, GARY PRICE and TOM WYLER.
They rush toward the flummoxed South Africans ... but here's something they didn't count on:
GUN. A rapid BURST OF FIRE scatters the Drug Cops. They dive behind the Bronco for cover.
Now things happen fast -~
Riggs ROLLS beneath the Gulfstream, behind the landing gear.
Murtaugh DROPS down behind his Sedan, FIRING off several ROUNDS.
Hans grabs a suitcase, RUNS up the boarding steps and disappears into the Gulfstream.
The other South Africans produce weapons from beneath their coats and BLAST their way back into the Mercedes.
The Drug Cops are pinned down by UZI GUNFIRE. Murtaugh tries to nail the Pilot -- but only succeeds in drawing
his fire. The Pilot SPRAYS THE UZI in Murtaugh's direction. Murtaugh ducks behind his Sedan as bullets RIP THROUGH
the car's HOOD and GRILL.
RIGGS
crouches low under the Gulfstream‘'s fuselage, working his way toward the front. The REVVING ENGINES are HOT and NOISEY.
Now Riggs is directly beneath the boarding staircase. The spent shell casings from the Uzi Submachine gun (CHATTERING directly OVERHEAD) dance on the tarmac all around him.
Riggs grabs hold of the staircase and makes his move . « « fast, and with the agility of a cat, he SWINGS out from beneath the airplane ~-- pulling himself upward ~~ face to face with the startled Pilot -- BERRETA OUT ~~ fire EXPLODING from its muzzel at point blank range.
The Pilot is blasted backwards into the Gulfstream, -- the Uzi SPRAYING BULLETS through the roof of the fuselage as he falls.