"MAN ON FIRE" (2004)

Man On Fire

by

Brian Helgeland

Based on the novel by A.J. Quinnell

February 10, 2003 (V 2.0)

Property of New Regency Productions, Inc.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 1.

"Man On Fire"

OPENING TITLE SEQUENCE

High over the city on a bright Sunday morning, the sun pounding its way through the orange haze of smog. As we descend toward the clots of traffic blocking the streets: the sounds of a Mass being sung.

A CATHOLIC CHURCH

The big wooden doors open to release the parishioners inside. Feature a tall, lanky 18-YEAR-OLD. Holding his GIRLFRIEND’S hand, anxious for Sunday to really begin. They don’t notice the traffic suddenly thin, like a faucet’s been cranked down. They move toward a Mercedes 500. As a CHAUFFEUR holds the back door open for them...

A GRAND MARQUIS

Squeals around the corner, lurches to a stop alongside the Mercedes. FOUR MEN get out flashing badges. In a moment they’re hustling Eighteen toward the car, stiff- arming the chauffeur. As the girlfriend cries and the gossip among the parishioners begins...

The Grand Marquis pulls away.

They shove eighteen down to the floor of the backseat. These guys are not the police.

A switchblade is flicked open. Practiced hands slit the boy’s Sunday suit from the base of his neck to his heels. Eighteen yelps as the blade draws blood across one calf.

Duct tape is wrapped around his hands, eyes, and head.

The Marquis is parked across from another CAR. FOUR NEW GUYS wait as Eighteen is hauled out of the Marquis. His clothes drop away like a snake shedding its skin. He stands naked, bound and blind. Eighteen is handed over from one group to the other.

The phone rings. A bomb going off. Eighteen’s distraught FATHER (family photos of the boy on the wall) answers.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 2.

REVERSE TO REVEAL a battery of POLICE and NEGOTIATORS in the room with him. One of them listens in, waves fingers at him as the negotiations begin.

A wall smeared with God-knows-what. Facing it, Eighteen stands naked blindfolded and shivering. The back of his leg still bleeds. He shifts nervously as a little JACK RUSSELL TERRIER eagerly licks the blood off his calf.

At a motion from the man, Eighteen is taken down to the ground. Straddled by two men, his head is mummified in tape leaving one ear exposed.

CUT TO T.V. - Rosanna Garcia Guerrero, editor of REFORMA newspaper, being interviewed, "...organized crime syndicates...growth of kidnapping in Mexico over the last two years."

As a hand removes a ziplock baggie from the mailbox. A glimpse of something we don’t want to see. An ear partially obscured by sweating plastic and a blood smear.

A MERCEDES driving around the square, Eighteen’s father waving a white shirt out the window like a surrender flag.

Footbridge over railway sandwiched between freeway. Empty train blazes through. Dangerous, deserted downtown neighborhood. Looks more like "war torn Beirut", burnt out cars and trash. The 18 year old’s father, naked to the waist, walks from the family Mercedes over the footbridge carrying a pillowcase full of cash to a semi- derelict car on the opposite side with a white piece of fabric taped in the rear windshield and trunk open. He slams the pillow case in the trunk and leaves.

RUSH HOUR. A red stream of headlights separated from a white stream of taillights by a narrow median.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 3.

HORNS blare as a CAR stops. Eighteen, still blindfolded, is dumped on the median. The car pulls away.

He stands there in the whirlwind. Pathetically SCREAMING for help. More horns, shouts, no help.

END MAIN TITLES. Goes to black.

CREASY’S VOICE Ezekiel 25:17 Blessed is he who in the name of charity and good will shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness for he is truly his brother’s keeper and the finder of lost children.

Samuel Valencia Ramos and his lawyer Jordan Kalfus in the privacy of an alcove table. Jordan is well heeled, well connected and well oiled. In that order. Samuel, at 40, already has the patrician look that has served the male members of his family for generations. They discuss the kidnapping, a headline on the paper Jordan tosses aside.

Samuel sits at his baby grand piano playing a gentle rendering of ’Delibes’. His American wife LISA stands away from him. Just the sight of her back reveals a pitch perfect petulance. She tells him:

Work in Progress 2/10/03 4.

She turns at that: a woman so beautiful it nearly hurts to look at her. She stares, plays him like Chinese Checkers.

She just stares at him. He melts.

Jordan smiles at his client, enjoys seeing him squirm.

Samuel rolls his eyes. Jordan laughs. Beheading two cigars, he passes one to Samuel.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 5.

Jordan lights his cigar.

Samuel finally follows the logic.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 6.

As Samuel puffs his cigar in satisfaction...

As a 747 is towed by in the background, a MAN strides at us. CREASY. Even in movement, he has a stillness, an air of isolation. He’s set apart from other living things.

He wears dark sunglasses, carries a well-worn leather bag. Inscrutable. Disconnected. A bit frightening. The discipline of a soldier. The independence of a gunslinger.

Automatic baggage teller (Red Light, Green Light). Creasy feeds the machine with his perforated customs card. Light flashes RED.

CUSTOMS MAN

He flips through Creasy’s passport. Even the stamps have stamps. Thailand. Somalia. Cuba. Columbia. Hong Kong. Saudi Arabia. Every country in Europe. Guy’s been around.

Customs looks up from the ink blue American Eagle to the deep matte black of Creasy’s sunglasses.

NOTE: Italics denotes the lines spoken in Spanish.

Customs looks at Creasy a moment. He doesn’t look like a man who has ’friends’. Finally, customs smiles.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 7.

Creasy slips off the sunglasses. His eyes are deserted. Inevitable. Customs can only look into them a moment. He indicates for Creasy to put his bags on a conveyor belt leading to an X-ray machine. Creasy lifts his bag onto the conveyor. The official hits the start button. The bag drives forward towards the X-ray machine.

Creasy pauses, then offers up a license from his wallet.

Polaroid FLASH

Shot of Creasy straight on. Shot of Creasy profile.

FLASH. Fingers being fingerprinted.

JUMPCUTS - suitcase being stripped and ripped (MIDNIGHT EXPRESS), pack of Marlboro, bottle of Jack Daniels, glimpse a weathered Bible (New Testament), intercut with seven pieces of blue steel separated in different parts of the bag, ie. toiletries, underwear, lining of suitcase.

The seven pieces laid together look remarkably like a well travelled Sig Sauer 226. Creasy smiles.

ACROSS THE BORDER CHECKPOINT - DAY

Six Japanese BUSINESSMEN jabber on cellphones. PAUL RAYBURN sits up front trying not to spill coffee on the mini Uzi cradled in his lap. As his own cell phone rings, he answers.

Creasy on payphone.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 8.

RAYBURN’s SUV

CUSTOMS JAIL

RAYBURN’s SUV

CUSTOMS JAIL

Rayburn has 5K U.S. dollars laid out on the desk between him, the Customs official, and Creasy. The remains of the suitcase are spread around the room. The main offender, the gun being front and center next to the cash. Looks like the official is going to fold.

A stripper does a half hearted grind as Rayburn and Creasy sit at the bar sharing a bottle of ’Jack’.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 9.

Creasy hits the ’Jack’.

Creasy changes subject.

Creasy takes a look around the Seedy Bar.

Rayburn laughs. Creasy takes the bottle. Creasy’s hand is mottled by old burn marks.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 10.

Rayburn studies his friend a beat, just seeing the cracks that weren’t there last time they met.

Creasy smiles.

Nine-year-old PINTA MARTIN RAMOS stares out at the garden, a bit like Creasy, but only a ten yard stare. Pinta’s eyes brim with life. She folds her hands, closes her eyes, prays. ’Chopin’ drifts up from downstairs. Samuel on the baby grand.

Pinta grabs a battered old TEDDY BEAR and climbs into bed. She pulls the covers up, looks over as her door opens.

Lisa enters. Pinta is her daughter.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 11.

Lisa strokes her head, smiles.

Pinta lets it sink in. Lisa kisses her goodnight.

Four SUV’s blast along a desert highway on their way to pick up some Japanese businessmen. Rayburn rides shotgun, Creasy in the back. Rayburn looks like he slept in his clothes. Creasy looks crisp and clean.

Creasy looks at him blankly.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 12.

Creasy just shakes his head.

Creasy shakes his head, looks out the window.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 13.

Rayburn throws him a VHS from the glove box.

Creasy looks back at Rayburn who’s just a little too perceptive for comfort.

A dark Mercedes maneuvers the turns.

Creasy at the wheel. Samuel sits in the back. Studying.

Creasy doesn’t answer, just drives.

Creasy takes his right hand off the wheel, reaches under his jacket and passes back a beat-to-shit looking PISTOL.

Creasy just nods. Doesn’t like the show and tell.

Samuel hands back the gun.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 14.

Samuel flips through a manila folder.

As they pull up to the Ramos’ impressive hacienda.

Where Lisa is flipping through TV channels; Sky News, CNN, etc... Each one showing some terrorist act - West Bank protest, Madrid car bombing.

Samuel and Creasy, meanwhile, enter behind her. She clicks it off, looks back at them.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 15.

Lisa steps over, shakes Creasy’s hand. Gives him a quick once over.

Creasy doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t look at Samuel and has no irony in his answer.

She steps to the bar to make it.

CREASY - FROM SOMEONE’S POV

Slightly sinister. Watching from the frame of the door.

Samuel sells, covers for Creasy’s reticence.

Creasy hesitates for an imperceptible beat.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 16.

And then, somehow, Creasy is aware of being watched. His eyes flicker over, just in time to see...

PINTA

Crouched low. In the doorway. She stares back at him a beat, then disappears around the corner.

SITTING ROOM

Creasy frowns. Lisa steps over with Creasy’s drink.

She makes a point of looking into his eyes. Creasy looks back into hers with complete indifference, something she has not experienced even from dying men.

She abruptly turns away. Confused for a moment. Finally:

A few moments and Pinta arrives. ’Cool Hand Pinta’.

Pinta walks over and very formally holds out her hand. Creasy shakes it. An odd beat.

Samuel reacts. Creasy got the job.

What an actress. As he follows her out. Samuel sits at his baby grand and begins to play.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 17.

Samuel is stopped short by that one. She steps over and kisses her husband on the cheek.

Pinta leads the way. All enthusiasm, away from her parents. A 150 pound black German Shepherd greets them. Sniffs Creasy’s pant leg, unsure.

Creasy follows her. Frank pads along after them.

CREASY’S ROOM

Not like downstairs, but comfortable enough.

Creasy takes a stroll around it, ignoring her.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 18.

CAW! Creasy looks over at a CAGE on a stand holding a MACAW. It tilts its head at the big man.

A TV and VHS machine in the corner.

Finally Creasy turns, looks at her hard.

Pinta smiles huge, nods.

Frank’s tail wags imperceptibly.

And then, walking on air, she’s out the door.

Creasy sets up his room with meticulous precision that comes from years in the military. Front and center he arranges his shrine: an almost empty bottle of scotch and a glass (engraved from an earlier encounter) next to a pack of Marlboros and his weathered Zippo. Then, his beaten up gun and holster. A well-travelled New Testament is placed in the drawer.

CREASY’S BAG

Work in Progress 2/10/03 19.

He reaches in between the shirts, pulls out a fresh bottle of scotch. He breaks the seal, unscrews the cap.

He pours a double... triple... wait, what do you call a full glass of scotch?

CAW! The macaw squawks it’s disapproval.

He ejects the shell from the breach of the 9mm, tries to catch it on the back of his hand. An old game with himself.

His hand is too shaky. The bullet bounces off, hits the floor. Creasy picks it up. Ejecting the magazine, he starts to oil the weapon.

CAW! As the macaw squawks, Creasy looks up. It doesn’t feel like this relationship is going to work.

A battered TEDDY BEAR watches as Lisa sits on the foot of the bed, tucks Pinta in.

Pinta smiles, happy at the thought.

Lisa smiles, kisses her goodnight. As she starts out...

Lisa turns, looks back at her daughter.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 20.

Lisa exits. Pinta looks over at the battered teddy bear.

CREASY

In his room. Tests his mag spring with his thumb, begins loading up. The full magazine joins with those already loaded.

Another glass of scotch is poured.

Creasy’s hands oil the holster. The Sig Sauer is slipped in. The holster is hung over the corner post of the bed.

A map is flattened. Creasy’s finger traces various routes, pencils them in. From the house to Pinta’s school.

The macaw squawks again. Creasy steps over, takes the cage and carries it to the open window. He opens the cage door.

The bird flies, disappears out the window.

Spent, glistened in sweat, the couple lay side by side.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 21.

Lisa just smiles, knows her daughter better.

CREASY’S ROOM

Creasy’s drinking in the dark next to the window, listening to the sounds of Mexico City at night.

The empty scotch glass is set down. Ominously sober.

Brushing her hair, Pinta wanders to the window at the sound of a car hood closing. Creasy is down below going over the car; a dark BLUE MERCEDES. As he checks underneath...

The "Car Wash Guy", Pedro, trying to engage Creasy. Frank looks on, seems like he disapproves of Pedro.

Creasy sits grimly behind the wheel. Pinta exuberant beside him. Traveling route number one from home base to school. Pinta looks at Creasy’s hands on the wheel. The back of the right one is swirled with scars.

Creasy checks the rearview mirror. A banged up white TOYOTA COROLLA pulls out behind him.

Pinta frowns; this is going to take some work.

Creasy has his eyes on the mirror.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 22.

Creasy checks the mirror. The white Corolla continues the way it was going. False alarm.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 23.

She looks at his scared right hand, then him. All curiosity.

Creasy pulls the Mercedes up out front. He notes the high walls, the heavy gates.

Creasy hits it. A beat and then a shutter opens at eye level. Pinta waves from the car. A moment later the gate is being slowly pushed open by an old WATCHMAN. Creasy drives in toward a rambling, ivy-clad building set in spacious grounds.

COURTYARD

Creasy parks, get out of the car. He looks around, appraising the lay of the land.

Pinta’s name is called. An elderly gray-haired NUN walks over from the entrance. Pinta runs over, kiss her warmly on both cheeks, then leads her toward Creasy.

Sister Anna shakes his hand.

Pinta waves goodbye, bounds away. They watch her go.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 24.

Sister Anna is impressed. She nods her ’props’ to Creasy.

Creasy pulls out, starts down the street. He’s only gone a hundred meters when SIRENS kick up. A police car behind him. Creasy shakes his head.

Creasy pulls over, digs around the front seat as TWO SLOPPY COPS head over.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 25.

Creasy hands them his PASSPORT and a printed LETTER. A legitimate firearms license for bodyguard work witnessed by Rayburn.

Creasy deliberately puts one hand on the steering wheel, then the other. Minimizing the confrontation.

Six Japanese BUSINESSMEN jabber on cellphones. Rayburn’s daily routine. He sits up front an Uzi cradled in his lap. As his own cell phone rings, he answers.

POLICE LINE-UP WALL - As Creasy’s MUG SHOT is flashed.

CREASY’S HAND - As he’s fingerprinted.

RAYBURN’S SUV

Creasy slams a Jack and Coke.

Creasy striding, the frivolous shoppers like another species as he moves through them. Might as well wear a shark fin. He spots something: a MUSIC STORE.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 26.

Creasy finds the section he’s looking for, searches a rack. There. As he pulls a particular CD, we are not privy to what it is.

Creasy waits, smoking a Marlboro light, separate from the other drivers and bodyguards. The bodyguards stand together sharing cigarettes and stories. Give him a share of unfriendly looks. Creasy could care less.

The doors open and the children pour out. PINTA exits, a huge grin as she spots Creasy. Creasy palms the Marlboro. The frown on his might as well be chiseled in marble.

Pinta rides shotgun alongside Creasy. She looks out the window, realizes...

Pinta thinks about it, realizes what he’s doing, smiles.

No answer from Creasy. It’s hard not to feel foolish around this kid.

Creasy’s hoping she’ll just shut up.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 27.

Pinta watches Creasy a moment, trying to figure a way in. She looks at his scarred right hand on the wheel.

Then, as she reaches out...

And touches it.

Creasy gives her a look, devoid of humanity for an instant.

When he speaks again he’s colder; he’s decided something.

They drive on in silence. Creasy finally glances over. Pinta stares straight ahead, her chin quivering.

But she is. As Creasy stops at a red light...

Work in Progress 2/10/03 28.

And she’s out the door.

Creasy shoulders open his door, bolts out.

INTERSECTION

Creasy has barely straightened himself and Pinta is already getting back in the car. This time in the backseat.

Creasy sighs. The light goes green. Scooters whine away and horns blare.

MERCEDES

Creasy sits back behind the wheel.

Creasy looks back at her, but she stares straight ahead. As the chorus of horns continues, Creasy continues driving.

Creasy sits at the table with the old gardener GOMEZ (we’ve seen him trimming hedges and such in earlier exteriors). Gomez’s just cleaned his plate and is going after any remnants with a crust of bread. Creasy hasn’t touched his.

MARIA, the cook, enters. As she clocks Creasy’s plate...

’Chopin’ drifts across the courtyard. Samuel is a very accomplished player.

Creasy sits in a chair in the twilight by the window, a glass of scotch in his hand. A knock at the door.

The door opens. It’s Lisa.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 29.

He shakes his head. Lisa glides into the room like a dancer, sits down at the foot of the bed.

A beat and then Lisa nods.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 30.

Lisa stands, is about to start out when she sees his gun and holster hanging from the corner of the bed. It gives her pause. Something sexy about it and Creasy’s proximity.

Creasy doesn’t answer, just watches her.

Finally, Lisa just shrugs and disappears out the door. Creasy slugs down a gulp of scotch.

Pinta, blankets up, teddy bear beside her, says her prayer.

Then, she listens as Linda Ronstadt’s "Blue Bayou" starts to drift through the open window, down from the room above.

He stands in the dark, in front of the glow of the stereo. The empty bag from the record store. This is the CD he bought. As the song ends, Creasy hits the back- up button. "Blue Bayou" begins again. Creasy takes the 9mm from its holster. As he sits back in his chair...

Work in Progress 2/10/03 31.

Pinta listens to the music, figures a way to dance to it.

Creasy sits in the dark with his ’Blue Bayou’. Creasy does not look right. Holding the 9mm, he ejects the round, tries to catch it on the back of his hand. No good.

He chambers another round. Tries again. Nope.

Pinta still dancing, finding a way to be with Creasy whether he knows it or not. Frank, the dog, watches her every move, perplexed.

As the song repeats, Creasy chambers yet another round. Feels like he misses a beat as he loads one shell into the chamber. Pinta sings along oblivious. Suddenly the barrel is at his forehead and the trigger has been pulled. No gun shot. A click. Hammer against shell. Creasy is confused. He ejects the shell and catches it in the palm of his hand. Macro photograph / a small dimple on the back of the shell is the only evidence of his actions. Pinta still dances.

Rayburn in bed with his beautiful 19-year-old Mexican WIFE and their four-year-old SON.

As she leans down to kiss her son, a cellphone rings. Rayburn looks over at the nightstand. FIVE CELLPHONES there, one of them ringing. Rayburn finds it.

Creasy stands at the edge of the drive, the house dark behind him. On his cell phone.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 32.

INTERCUT THE FOLLOWING:

Rayburn pulling away, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Creasy is troubled about it all to say the least.

Creasy doesn’t answer. He holds the bullet up, looks at it.

Creasy clicks off the phone. He starts back toward the house, but stops short again.

There she is. Pinta. Standing in the window of her room. She’s been watching him. It’s like Creasy seeing her for the first time. And she’s been watching him forever. No easy answer for it. They’re connected somehow.

Fingers putting the special bullet into an old matchbox. It takes it place of honor front and center on the shrine. Next to the Marlboros and scotch. The New Testament is set down nearby.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 33.

CU - Creasy asleep in his bed for the first time.

Silent Creasy driving. Lisa and Pinta in the back. Creasy steals a look in the mirror. Pinta stares straight ahead. But when Creasy looks away, Pinta steals a look at him.

As the mercedes crosses an intersection, a white TOYOTA COROLLA turns right, pulls in thirty meters behind it.

Creasy clocks the Corolla, frowns. He pulls a piece of paper from his pocket. But nothing to write with.

Sarcasm. He stays calm, doesn’t let on what he’s thinking.

Her little hand comes over the top of the seat with a pencil. Creasy takes it, slows to let the Corolla catch up. He squints into the mirror to read the plate.

Lisa is oblivious, but as Pinta looks back over her shoulder...

BRAKE LIGHTS up ahead. Creasy lurches to a stop. The Corolla swerves around them disappears ahead.

As Creasy cranes for a view, another WHITE Corolla comes by headed the opposite way. They’re everywhere. This relaxes Creasy’s paranoia. As he laughs to himself.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 34.

They pull in through the gates. The Mercedes parks; Creasy gets out. Pinta kisses her mother on the cheek.

Pinta gets out with book bag and her towel. As she starts to walk past Creasy without a word, he holds out her pencil. She holds up, shows him a SECOND PENCIL, continues on her way. Doesn’t need him.

MERCEDES

Creasy gets back in, starts away.

Creasy just nods. He doesn’t want anything to do with Lisa either. Thoughtful, Lisa looks out the window.

As Creasy just drives.

Creasy waits in the street, stands by the Mercedes. He checks his watch, looks around. The minutes do not pass quickly. He looks over as the restaurant door opens and Lisa exits with Jordan Kalfus and his Latin wife EVELYN.

Creasy nods. They study him with interest.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 35.

Jordan doesn’t quite hide his disdain. Creasy nods a final time, lets his eyes drift to a 1000 yard stare.

As Lisa gives her a dirty look, Evelyn whispers...

Jordan looks in the direction Creasy looks.

Just a blankness from Creasy.

A condescending smile as Jordan awaits his answer.

Lisa smiles at the answer, kisses Jordan on the cheek.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 36.

Evelyn doesn’t see it, but Creasy does. Jordan just lets his fingers trace the top of Lisa’s ass.

As she and Evelyn head for the car, Creasy is there to open the door.

MERCEDES

Creasy gets behind the wheel. Pulls into traffic. As he goes, he checks the rear view mirror. Jordan remains standing on the curb watching the car pull away. Something odd about it all.

Loud. Chaotic. Reminiscent of a lunatic asylum. Creasy arrives at the public pool. A practice. Several bodyguards gather at one end of the pool. Give Creasy a less than friendly look. As he looks for Pinta...

A GUN goes off.

Sees: The smoke from the starting pistol as the SWIMMERS splash into the water.

He sees Pinta in the pool. The fifty yard dash. She’s in fifth. Then fourth. Creasy walks along beside her. Third. Second and closing. And at the wall, still second.

She surfaces, frustrated. As she sees Creasy there...

Creasy drives. Pinta in back, writing in her notebook. Not speaking, but a weird sort of harmony. Finally.

She keeps writing. The number "2" over and over.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 37.

Creasy sits in his chair drinking scotch. All alone needless to say.

Creasy takes the instructional VHS on bodyguards that Rayburn gave him and plugs it into the VCR. It’s in Japanese. Shakes his head. He switches off the VCR and surfs the TV channels instead. Sees talk show with the editor of REFORMA newspaper, ROSANNA GUERRERO, talking about organized crime in Mexico.

From out the window, a CAW, then again. Yet again.

Finally, Creasy stands goes to the window. He leans out, sees Pinta’s window across the lawn from him.

Pinta standing on the terrace. Another CAW.

Creasy decides to play. He CAWS in return.

Pinta looks around. Creasy does a pretty good impersonation.

Hears Pinta CAW again.

She looks up at him.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 38.

Creasy disappears back inside. Pinta smiles big before letting the stick drop to the ground.

Blue Bayou plays. Pinta now listens to Creasy’s sound.

A DRIVER gets Samuel’s and Lisa’s luggage into a car. They’re on their way, kissing Pinta goodbye.

Lisa gives her a look. Don’t make this harder than it has to be. Finally, Pinta nods.

Creasy waits quite a discreet distance away by the Mercedes. She steps over, stops to wave goodbye one last time, then gets in back. As Creasy shuts the door.

Creasy drives, glances in the mirror at Pinta in the back seat. She wipes away a tear just as it forms.

She’s got a toughness Creasy likes. As she looks out the window, he looks ahead.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 39.

Creasy eats.

Maria beams with pleasure.

Pinta enters in a RED SATIN DEVIL’S OUTFIT. She looks a bit forlorn as she sits at opposite ends of the table from Creasy. As she stares at her plate, Creasy starts to laugh at what an odd sight she is. All dressed up and no place to go.

Wrong move. Pinta stands, marches out of the room. As Maria and Creasy exchange a look...

Pinta the devil stares sadly out here window. Then there it is! The macaw. Sitting on the opposite roof.

Pinta pushes it open, climbs out onto the slope of the roof. This doesn’t look like such a good idea. As she crosses, disappears over the peak.

It’s a game of catch me if you can. ’Bird’ looks at Pinta right in the eye. She gingerly moves closer. The bird moves away, just out of her reach each time.

CHIMNEY

Pinta coming down the other slope. There’s the macaw.

The fourth time Pinta’s fingers are centimeters away. She reaches and suddenly slides along the slick tile covering this section of the roof. Frank’s in the yard barking loudly.

Near the edge, she manages to stop. Whew!

She scrambles up a few feet. A tile snaps off. She slides again. This time right off the edge.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 40.

She catches the rain gutter. Hangs thirty feet above the ground. A concrete landing below. As the gutter creaks:

PINTA’S VOICE CREASY!

Creasy is on his feet, out the door in a heartbeat.

Creasy dashes around just as the gutter drops on one side. Pinta drops ten feet, jerks to a stop as the gutter stops, then drops the last twenty feet...

...landing in a hedge. Creasy dashes over.

She’s in a lot of pain, but moving her arms and head. Frank’s licking her face.

She puts her hands to the left side of her ribs. Creasy carefully probes with his fingers. She winces.

As Maria huffs and puffs her way up.

Pinta nods. Creasy eases his arms under, around her, lifts her out as gently as possible. She disappears in his arms.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 41.

And she bursts into tears. Maria looks up at the thirty foot fall. Begins to cross herself.

Creasy cradles her, pats her back. As Pinta says his name like a mantra...

Lisa on the phone. Fantastic in a black evening dress. The Ford car industry dinner awaits her entrance.

Samuel enters from the bathroom, concern on his face.

She turns her back so Samuel can zip her dress up.

Creasy makes his way up, enters...

PINTA’S BEDROOM

Pinta in bed propped up by a pillow, teddy bear beside her. Frank at the head of the bed.

It’s a sensitive subject so Pinta moves on. She nods. Creasy looks at the bear. An odd beat.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 42.

Pinta thinks just a beat, then shakes her head ’no’. Liar.

Pinta nods. Creasy stands there a beat, then heads for the door. Almost out, he looks back.

He’s halfway out the door.

Creasy is confused a moment, but when he sees her open window, he realizes.

He goes. As Pinta eases back with a sigh and a smile...

Pedro the ’car wash guy’ puts the finishing touches to the Mercedes.

Using crutches, Pinta hobbles over. Creasy opens the back door for her. But when she gets there, she hesitates.

Creasy makes no big deal of it. He takes her crutches, opens the front. As she scoots inside... Frank waits and watches. Creasy calls to him.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 43.

Both of them up front. Pinta is happy to be there and Creasy doesn’t seem to mind.

They drive on a few silent beats, until...

Pinta looks at him hopefully, but Creasy catches himself. He’s not going to coach a little girl. Finally...

Gomez, Maria and Creasy again joined by Pinta. As Creasy places a fork of meat into his mouth...

Creasy opens his mouth, takes the fork of meat back out.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 44.

Maria and Gomez wait to see how he’ll answer.

Maria and Gomez burst out laughing. So funny that Creasy smiles. Pinta lights up at the sight. A huge victory.

He reverts to a frown. Now Pinta bursts out laughing. And Creasy can’t help but smile again.

Pinta changes subject.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 45.

GOMEZ

Humming to himself as he brushes the leaves out of the empty SWIMMING POOL.

CU of a water faucet unloads 100 gallons a minute.

A MAN’S HAND. BLACK.

Raises up against the blue sky. Like a kid playing Cowboys and Indians. The finger pulls an imaginary trigger.

RAMOS POOL

In her swimsuit and cap, Pinta crouches in makeshift starting blocks.

Pinta takes off. Splashes into the water. Not to Creasy’s satisfaction.

Pinta turns in the water, looks back at him.

Creasy points at the blocks. Pinta gets out of the water.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 46.

Shivering, Creasy throws a towel around her and rubs her down.

On the way to school. Pinta is stealing looks at Creasy’s right hand. She knows the answer must be serious, but she has to ask.

Creasy looks at her a moment, deciding. Pinta practically holds her breath, watches him, knows the answer may come. Creasy checks the mirror, watches the road.

That’s it. End of explanation. Creasy continues watching the road. Pinta watches him.

As the two of them share a LAUGH...

Lisa walking toward Creasy’s room. As she moves to knock, she sees the door is ajar, hears voices. She peeks in.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 47.

Creasy and Pinta sit on the floor, pencils, papers and a book spread out before them. Doing her history homework.

LISA’S POV - OF CREASY

He’s charming and great with Pinta. And sexy... Evelyn was right.

Lisa continues to watch the little play. She smiles, knocks on the door as she opens it. Pinta and Creasy both look back over their shoulders.

Creasy nods. They both continue to look at her. She gets the feeling she’s interrupting.

As she goes...

Mexico City traffic is heavy. Cars and people. Creasy stands by the car across the street. Cooling his heels. He can just catch a glimpse of Lisa in the shop.

Suddenly the traffic seems to finish, expending itself. The street goes ominously quiet. Creasy’s antennae go up.

A police car comes prowling down the empty street. Creasy makes eye contact with the guys up front.

Then, Creasy spots a BUSINESSMAN coming out of a doorway with a BODYGUARD attached. The bodyguard is speaking into a two-way radio.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 48.

Creasy’s sixth sense tweaks as a Mercedes 500 pulls up to collect the businessman.

And the cop car disappears around the corner even as TWO MEN start toward the businessman.

Lisa exits the hairdresser’s. Looks stunning.

Creasy starts across the street toward her.

A second car squeals around the corner behind the Mercedes and everything goes to Hell.

GUNFIRE erupts.

And then Creasy is there.

His arm around Lisa’s waist, sweeping her off her feet. The next thing she knows she flattened on the ground in a shop doorway, Creasy on top of her. Shielding her.

The bodyguard beside the businessman is killed. The body guard in the Mercedes trades a full magazine before he’s shot.

A PEDESTRIAN is killed.

Liza screams as the glass above and behind them shatters.

The businessman is hustled into the back of the second car.

Lisa sees the gun in Creasy’s hands.

She hears the slamming of the car door, the screeching of tires. A parked VAN also hauling ass out of there. But then she’s aware of something else.

Creasy on top of her. She feels his weight, his heat...

She watches as he rises, goes to the curb. One bodyguard is sprawled dead across the ground. Red blood on the sidewalk. As Lisa closes her eyes.

Lisa sits in the backseat. Through the window we can see Creasy wrap up his statement to a member of the JUDICIAL POLICE. Finally he gets in the car, starts to drive.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 49.

The shoulders in front of her just shrug.

Quiet a beat. Lisa pulls a sliver of glass from her hair, looks from it to Creasy.

She shakes involuntarily. It’s hitting her. As they make eye contact through the mirror...

The Mercedes parked. Creasy and Lisa up against it. Fucking. No cultured way to put it. Like animals. A primal release for both of them.

Pinta waiting alone. Creasy’s late. Then the gate swings back; the Mercedes drives through. Smiling, she hurries over, hops in the passenger seat.

MERCEDES - ROLLING

Creasy doesn’t answer. He actually looks guilty. Pinta watches him a moment.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 50.

Creasy doesn’t answer, just grunts. Pinta keeps looking at him and it suddenly all makes sense.

He looks over at her, starts to say something, then thinks better of it. Finally...

She’s for sure pissed. Definitely aware and definitely jealous. Creasy’s a bit amazed, not sure how to respond.

Pinta considers this. Then..

Creasy looks at her, almost like he’s deciding.

Her smile is huge.

Heated. Steam rising off the water. PINTA stands with her eyes closed. Creasy, standing beside her, brings TWO BLOCKS together with a WHACK!

Work in Progress 2/10/03 51.

Pinta flinches at the sound. She opens her eyes, shrugs an apology at him. Creasy frowns, shakes his head. Pinta closes her eyes again. He starts walking around her. Frank oversees the whole program.

Eyes closed, she’s drifted off with his voice. And Creasy WHACKS them together right in front of her face.

Pinta smiles at the sound. Creasy smiles at the sight.

WHACK! Pinta bolts from the blocks. SPLASHES.

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! Pinta surges. Pinta arcs. Pinta knifes into the water.

Pinta touches the far wall of the pool, the finish line. Creasy checks his watch, claps.

Pinta raises her arms overhead, makes like Rocky across the shallow end. Creasy shakes his head in amusement.

First light is just tracing outlines against the window. Lisa alone in bed, staring at the ceiling. Frightened at what she’s feeling.

CREASY

Sleeping, looking sexy.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 52.

As the Mercedes pulls in, another car is ahead of it. Samuel is home, a DRIVER pulls his LUGGAGE from the trunk.

Pinta gets out of the Mercedes.

He gives her a pat on the head. Simultaneously, Samuel fixes Creasy with a look, strides purposefully over. He thrusts out his hand, shakes Creasy’s.

Creasy wants to choke, but he just nods, looks past Samuel to Pinta who looks bemused. He doesn’t even want to know exactly what she knows.

The Car Wash Guy, - Pedro, ingratiates himself with Samuel.

Creasy’s finger presses play. "Blue Bayou" begins. Plaintive, haunting. As he moves to sit in his chair, he passes the scotch bottle. It has gone unopened.

He ejects the shell from the breach of the 9mm, smoothly catches it on the back of his hand. Rock steady. Frank’s tail wags.

Where the song drifts down. Pinta smiles, closes her eyes. Now she can go to sleep.

Samuel makes love to his wife. But Lisa looks past him, through the walls and floors to where that song plays.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 53.

CU of Creasy.

The big swim meet. Race day. A lot of security, men speaking into their wrists. For a public gathering the mood almost seems ominous. Creasy and Pinta exit the Mercedes. Pinta watches wistfully as her fellow STUDENTS stream toward the water with their PARENTS.

Creasy shrugs. No comforting answer for her. He looks around at some of the other bodyguards.

But she’s shaking her head adamantly. Determined.

A big MARQUEE has been set up alongside the pool. Coltish girls in swimsuits. Parents socialize, drink cocktails. Richly dressed. Bodyguards and security are outside of it, on the perimeter.

Creasy looks completely out of place.

Pinta starts away.

She turns, looks back at him.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 54.

Creasy nods. He smiles. He’s serious now. As he watches her head off for the track, Sister Anna steps up.

And now Creasy is completely out of place.

She takes his arm, pats his hand.

As Creasy lets this sink in, looks out where Pinta is warming up. Sister Anna smiles, heads off to a group of parents. We’re left with Creasy. Confused Creasy. But clarity is creeping in. As the sky opens up around him...

STARTER’S PISTOL

Pointed up at precisely 45 degrees. BAAAANGG!

STARTING BLOCKS

Eyes closed serenely, Pinta surges forward, leaving everyone behind.

CREASY

Sees it. She hasn’t even hit the water and he already knows she’s won.

PINTA

SPLASH! Ten meters in before she breaks the surface. Her head sweeping left and then right.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 55.

Wherever her competitors are, it’s somewhere behind her. And the future, everything ahead, is wide open.

TURN WALL - UNDERWATER

Pinta somersaults, kicks off and is gone.

SURFACE

And the finish line seems to come to her.

THE CROWD

Cheers enthusiastically as she reaches the finish wall.

CREASY

Watches her, satisfied with what he’s done.

Pinta hauls herself out of the water and runs.

A beeline for Creasy. And the poor fucker doesn’t even understand, until she’s leaping the last few feet...

Into his arms.

She loves him... Creasy hugs her. He loves her back.

A MARIACHI BAND roams. We see Creasy but not who he’s with. A date? As we come around it’s Pinta. Sitting with them, Rayburn and his wife. And a sleeping four- year-old.

NOTE: Rethink following dialogue with reference to Creasy / Rayburn background.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 56.

Rayburn looks at beautiful 19-year-old Alicia and their four-year-old son sleeping.

Alicia blows Creasy a kiss.

Laughter.

She takes out a velvet pouch from her pocket. She holds it out to Creasy. He looks at her, takes it from her hand. His thick fingers fumble with a delicate drawstring.

Pinta waits for his reaction as Creasy pours a simple, but fine MEDALLION and chain into the palm of his hand.

Creasy is really affected, tries to hide it. She takes it, slips it over his head.

Creasy looks at it, considers.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 57.

Pinta kisses him. As the Mariachi band drifts over, Rayburn grabs his wife by the hand.

They dance. A waiter steps over, refills Creasy’s water glass. As he drinks...

Pinta nods, thinks she understands.

Samuel and Lisa on the moving escalator. Home from Los Angeles. They look down through the glass, see Creasy waiting for them below. And finally, Lisa frowns.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 58.

Samuel thinks about it, is almost apologetic.

Samuel looks at her, wonders at her adamancy.

Lisa gives him a look. She wants it done today. But for once, Samuel is stronger than his wife.

Off the escalator, they turn toward Creasy waiting unaware.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 59.

As Lisa looks over at Samuel, he’s reaching out his hand, smiling big.

As they shake hands...

As Pinta marches out of the room...

The sounds of Samuel’s baby grand resonates throughout the villa. An impassioned rendering of a Mozart symphony.

Pinta is looking for Frank. Today is Saturday and on weekends Frank is allowed to travel with them. And today she is claiming all her rights.

Pinta whistles.

Creasy driving. Pinta looking noble and brave.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 60.

Creasy checks his mirror, nothing back there now. He then looks at Pinta. A bit amazed.

A wide avenue. The Mercedes pulls up parks in the only open spot. Creasy and Pinta get out. We walks her across the street, along the lawn to the apartment building. They look up at the sound of piano keys tinkling above. Then:

Creasy looks at her, smiles to himself. Pinta looks back.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 61.

Creasy presses the buzzer. As they wait, Pinta sees something, reaches down to pull a DANDELION from a crack where the sidewalk meets the wall. She smiles at Creasy.

Creasy takes it from her. He’s saved by the bell as a second buzzer answers the first. Creasy pulls the door open. Pinta heaves a resigned sigh.

As Pinta nods, disappears inside...

2ND FLOOR WINDOW

The curtains rustle in the breeze. The sound of badly played scales. And then sounds of frustration.

Then, the sound of the teacher playing. Pinta appears in the window for just a moment.

CREASY

Looking up from the window of the Mercedes. As Pinta is called back inside, Creasy checks out, twirls the dandelion Pinta gave him. HUMS to himself. "Blue Bayou."

Work in Progress 2/10/03 62.

THE STREET

Creasy leaning against the Mercedes. Traffic pounding by. The dandelion is stuck in a button hole of his shirt.

And then suddenly traffic thins out. Reminiscent of the previous two kidnappings. It’s a process. Creasy straightens up.

A Judicial POLICE CAR cruises by, slowly. Creasy makes eye contact with the two cops up front. The same guys who were at Zona Rosa.

Creasy starts across the street toward the apartment building. At the same time as...

The door bangs open. Pinta exiting. She spots Creasy, a huge grin on her face. She was not accepted.

And a white TOYOTA COROLLA coming the other way.

The police car reverses back, cutting Creasy off from Pinta. The COPS getting out, big smiles on their faces.

THE COROLLA

Slides to a stop in front of Pinta, blocking her path to Creasy. And as TWO MEN leap out from the backseat...

But she’s rooted with fear.

And the men are almost on her.

Creasy raises the 9mm overhead. BANG!

And the sound frees her. Pinta runs!

Ducking under a flailing arm. Quick and lithe. Trying to reach her bodyguard.

The cops drawing Uzi’s..

Creasy plants himself, the Sig Sauer now level. He fires twice into COP ONE, dead center in the chest.

Pinta runs. Chased by the TWO MEN.

COP TWO returns fire wildly: the Mercedes hit in a ten bullet line.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 63.

Creasy fires two more rounds into COP TWO who’s hit high in the chest and throat. Precise.

Creasy pivots, strides calmly forward, firing at the men chasing Pinta. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

MAN ONE goes down, hit in the ribs.

A bullet slams Creasy in the back, fired from inside the Corolla.

Creasy fires back. BOOM! BOOM!

MAN THREE falls dead, hit just below his nose, just above his teeth. The FAT DRIVER fires, now, and Creasy is hit in the shoulder.

And Pinta disappears into the traffic. Gone.

MAN TWO, who has abandoned chasing Pinta, fires again.

Creasy drops the 9mm as he is hit in the stomach. He falls to his knees.

The dandelion starts to come apart. Drifting away, piece by piece.

Slack-jawed, Creasy looks about. Sees the FAT DRIVER heaving himself out of the Corolla while MAN TWO scans for Pinta who’s nowhere in sight.

She got away! Creasy smiles even as he crumples over on his side.

PINTA’S VOICE CREASY!

And Pinta is back. Running toward Creasy. She can’t leave him like this. She was safe and now she’s back.

She runs to him, wraps her arms around him.

MAN TWO catches up, tears Pinta away, starts back for the sedan. Creasy can only blink after them.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 64.

It’s not a cry for help. It’s anguish for him.

MAN TWO crams her in the back seat, follows. The fat driver gets back in behind the wheel. As the door slams shut, wheels spin, grip and the Corolla accelerates away.

We just see Pinta look back through the rear windshield. An anguished image before she’s pulled back down.

Creasy makes a wish. Not for himself, but for her.

And everything goes very, very,

Sound breaks through first. The whir and beep of medical equipment. And we fade back into:

Creasy hooked up. Tubes running in and out of the unconscious man. And he’s suddenly surrounded.

The CHIEF of the Judicial Police and several uniformed OFFICERS. At the foot of the bed several NEWSPAPER REPORTERS and PHOTOGRAPHERS.

One of the officers props up Creasy’s head. The chief puffs his chest out and flashes flash.

Sounds of a DOG BARKING

Bruno opens the door to a very distraught Frank. Someone had locked him in there.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 65.

LISA

Sitting catatonic. In the dark. Halfway to mourning already. A HUBBUB drifts up from the rooms below.

A bedraggled-looking Samuel sits with Jordan by the phone. An INSURANCE COMPANY LAWYER is here as well. Maria cries softly in a doorway.

MONTAGE - of chaos and panic. Judicial police are trying to set up shop. Tape recorders. Listening devices. Video cameras.

JUMPCUTS:

Cut to

Do not tell them you have a kidnap policy.

Cut to

They usually ask for three times the amount they expect...

They react as two vehicles pull up outside. Chaos as the front door opens. MEN IN SUITS, several POLICEMEN. Their very well-groomed leader is COLONEL TAZINARI.

Jordan accepts reality. They’re taking control.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 66.

A ringing phone sounds like an bomb exploding in the room. A technician answers. Jordan takes the receiver. We hear the conversation. The kidnapper only wants to talk to the father. Everybody is one headsets, monitoring. Samuel listens carefully. Jordan prompts him with hand-written replies on a notepad. Samuel negotiates the amount via notes from his lawyer.

QUICK CUTS:

Samuel proposes five million. Kidnapper gets angry. Demands 20 million.

They settle at ten million. The kidnapper gives a list of instructions.

Samuel is on another phone talking to family friends asking if they will front a hundred thousand dollars each. Which will be paid back by the K & R insurance in 45 days.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 67.

Lisa is nowhere to be found. Locked in her bedroom in darkness with Frank.

END MONTAGE

Another showcase press conference. More REPORTERS and now TV NEWS CREWS.

CONFERENCE

Rosanna, the woman we saw on T.V. earlier, stands watching and listening. Incredulous and angry.

MIGUEL MANZANO the Director of AFI (also seen earlier on TV), approaches with his two assistants and kisses Rosanna on the cheek.

Manzano looks bemused, as he eats a sugary pastry. Rosanna heads into the press conference.

Rosanna can’t believe what she’s hearing.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 68.

The Chief frowns at the sight of Rosanna, knows what a royal pain in the ass she is. Manzano awaits his answer.

He turns, points out another reporter.

He stares back over at her, furious. Rosanna smiles.

It opens and out slides Rayburn. He looks down the hallway. Press conference is still going down that way. Rayburn heads the other way.

But as he tries to enter Creasy’s room, he’s met in the door by TWO THUG COPS, in uniform.

Cop two pokes a finger into Rayburn’s chest.

Cop two pokes him again. Goading him.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 69.

Rayburn swallows his anger, starts fishing for his wallet. Suddenly, the thugs snap to attention. Manzano is on the way down followed by ADJUTANT and TWO PLAINCLOTHES.

Ignoring the proffered salutes, Manzano finishes his pastry, licks his fingertips as he regards Rayburn.

Rayburn shakes his head.

Manzano holds out his right hand.

Creasy out of it still. Rayburn and Manzano at the foot of the bed.

And Creasy stirs. Rayburn leans into his friend, Manzano just behind him.

Creasy’s eyes slit open.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 70.

Creasy closes his eyes.

Technicians, police, Tazinari, Jordan, and Samuel all listen intently to the call.

VOICE You have the money.

VOICE OK,repeat the drop instructions.

VOICE The car will not be powerful and have no trunk.

Intercut the above with real time visuals illustrating the process:

agent.

car. K&R agent watching.

transferred to the family Mercedes.

The K&R agent notices the Mercedes has a flat tire. A second Mercedes is exchanged for the first.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 71.

The two bags are transferred inside the garage. Jordan supervises the transfer while the K&R agent takes an incoming call.

The call between The Voice and Jordan continues.

VOICE No. Why?

VOICE OK. You will arrive at Columbus Circle and Reforma Avenue at 3AM. You will drive around the square two times. Samuel will remove his shirt and hold it out the window to I.D. the car.

The delivery car with a white shirt held out of the window.

VOICE (V.O.) There is a payphone on the Southeast corner. The phone will ring. You will answer and wait for instruction.

Samuel exits the car and goes to the payphone. The phone is ringing. Samuel picks it up and listens.

PAUSE.

VOICE Is the father, there?

Jordan hands the phone to Samuel.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 72.

VOICE If this girl’s life is as important to you as it is to me, do not play with the process. Family is everything. I am a professional. You keep your word and I will keep mine.

Creasy being wheeled down the hall by a tough plain- clothed Federal Policeman. Followed by Rayburn, Manzano, and Rosanna. The uniformed JUDICIAL POLICE are powerless to stop them.

Samuel driving. Tazinari dialing his cellphone.

Samuel’s car is parked on the south side of the bridge. A shirtless Samuel carries two large duffle bags containing ten million dollars across the bridge. We see Tazinari again dialing up his cell phone.

VOICE (V.O.) Leave the money in the trunk of the car with white paper taped to the windshield, then return to your car and go home. Do not look back.

Samuel finds the car, leaves the bag in the trunk, he turns and heads back over the bridge.

VOICE (V.O.) Remember, I am a professional. If you keep your word, I will keep mine. If you do not, then God be with your child.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 73.

As Samuel is walking back across the bridge. Suddenly gunfire from where he came, along with shouting and yelling. Samuel crouches and runs in the dark back to his car with Tazinari.

Cages of mangy looking mutts. Pull back to reveal Creasy on his hospital bed, IVs and all.

Rayburn sits nearby. He looks up as Creasy stirs, wakes again. Creasy’s eyes flicker to his friend, ask the first question on his mind. Pinta...

Rayburn looks away, can’t face his friend. And suddenly, Creasy knows.

Rayburn finally nods. And with that gesture, God takes everything away. It might as well be the Old Testament. And we are about to get Biblical.

Creasy turns his head, looks up at the ceiling.

CU of Creasy’s face with his back to the room. A thousand yard stare. His eyes glaze over.

FLASHBACK

CU of Pinta looking up at Creasy. The camera ramps into Pinta’s smile. A small, but a sinificant moment in terms of their connection.

The curtains are drawn tight. Slivers of light illuminate the darkened room. Lisa sits on the end of the bed humming a nursery rhyme. She rocks gently.

VOICE (V.O.) You betrayed me. You killed my nephew and took the money.

K&R AGENT No, not us...No we did not.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 74.

VOICE (V.O.) Remember my words. Family is everything and do not play with the process.

The phone line goes dead.

Creasy still staring into space.

Creasy blinks away a solitary tear.

Dogs barking constantly. Manzano walks the hall flanked by a DOCTOR and a NURSE. A second policeman, Manzano’s adjutant, brings up the rear carrying two heavy binders.

MUGSHOT

Manzano and the adjutant have pulled chairs up alongside the bed. The adjutant flips through one of the binders. Each page holds a single MUGSHOT. Each time Creasy shakes his head, the adjutant flips to the next photo.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 75.

Creasy shakes his head.

Creasy shakes his head at the next shot.

One of the dogs starts to bark. Another. Soon ten of them. The VET ASSISTANT enters, shouts at them to quiet. Manzano ignores it, motions the adjutant to flip pages.

The adjutant reaches the last page. Creasy shakes his head.

As Manzano packs up his mugshot books...

Work in Progress 2/10/03 76.

Manzano heads off. As Creasy watches after him...

Creasy sitting on the gurney, Rayburn buttons his shirt.

Creasy nods. Rayburn gets Creasy’s arm over his shoulder, eases him off the gurney till his feet hit the floor.

Creasy winces, but the two of them start to walk out.

An SUV rolling away. Lights out, engine off. It coasts a hundred yards before the engine turns over. Rayburn behind the wheel. As it sweeps past camera...

Rayburn constantly checking the rear view. No pursuit in sight. He looks over at Creasy.

Creasy looks over at him, finally shrugs.

Creasy’s not really listening. He’s been looking in the passenger side view mirror. Nothing back there. Creasy sits up. A bit of an effort.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 77.

Scene of the crime. Typical Mexican ’roadside shrines’ where the policemen fell. A pyre of flowers where Pinta was scooped up, Creasy’s blood still staining the sidewalk alongside. A car pulls up...

Rosanna Guerrero gets out with a REPORTER and PHOTOGRAPHER. She directs them in Spanish. The reporter starts making notes; the photographer snaps photos of the shrine.

Rosanna stands by the flower pyre. Something catches her eye. A balled-up piece of paper and a half-burned candle beside it. As she picks it up, she spots something else.

Across the street, Creasy walks. An awkward hitch in his stride. Outside the apartment of the piano teacher, surveying the scene with experienced eyes. Unaware of Rosanna

CREASY (FLASHBACK)

Corolla. Muzzle flashes. Pinta screaming...

Creasy wheels. There’s Rosanna.

Creasy walks away from her. Rosanna catches up and holds out a plastic ziploc.

Creasy empties the contents of the ziplock into his hand. A small ball of paper and the remains of a black candle. Creasy unballs the paper. It’s a photo.

FLASH: Creasy at the police station. His photo taken.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 78.

He hands it back to her, not interested. As he turns to go.

Creasy doesn’t answer.

Creasy looks carefully at Rosanna. Right now he trusts no one.

He walks away towards Rayburn.

The SUV parked a discreet distance away. Rayburn grinds out another cigarette, mutters to himself.

Bruno lets him in. Nothings been touched. Creasy retrieves his bullet from his shrine along with the ’Jack’, Marlboros, and New Testament. Puts his few possessions in a bag. MOVE WITH him as he silently crosses out into the hall, heads toward...

PINTA’S ROOM

He stands there a moment. His pain entirely his own. And then he goes to Pinta’s little desk, finds her school notebook buried in a pile. He flips through it until he finds...

Work in Progress 2/10/03 79.

The LICENSE PLATE NUMBER Pinta jotted for him. Then he notices the notebook is really a diary. Every page references her day to day relationship with Creasy. "I love you Creasy Bear." He hears soft footsteps. Creasy turns.

Lisa stands in the doorway in her nightgown, her eyes drilling through Creasy.

Creasy just blinks at her as the words blast through him.

Eyes brimming, Lisa has no more words. But Creasy comes bearing cold comfort.

Lisa doesn’t answer, but the connection between them is suddenly monumental. Finally, Creasy looks away. He picks up Pinta’s battered, old TEDDY BEAR.

He turns, but she doesn’t look back at him.

Creasy nods. He will. As he continues away...

Creasy exits the house and stands by the pool. Frank appears tail wagging and attempts to comfort Creasy.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 80.

Leaves blow across the surface of the water. Underwater slow motion, a wall turn. It looks remarkably like Pinta.

"Blue Bayou" drifts through the air. Soft, in the ether somewhere. Creasy hears it, half raises his head.

PINTA’S VOICE Why Blue Bayou, Creasy? Is that where you’re from?

She’s standing behind him. Wearing the all too familiar one piece swimsuit, she towels her wet hair.

CLOSE ON CREASY

The words are a salve, a balm. He turns, looks back over his shoulder. He’s all alone.

Rayburn looks over his shoulder, sees Creasy walking down the street. Clutching a teddy bear.

Creasy gets in the car. Rayburn drives.

No answer. Finally, as Rayburn lights a cigarette...

Rayburn grinds out the cigarette he just lit, knows what just was asked. Creasy needs help unleashing a plague.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 81.

Creasy reaches into a pocket, hands Rayburn a hand written list. Rayburn reads, his eyes widening.

The surface breaks as Creasy enters the water wearing a red T-shirt to hide the bandages. He begins a slow laborious stroke. A pale attempt at getting back into shape. A ribbon of maroon trails him through the water.

LOCATION*

Fluorescents flicker on. A Fiat up on the hydraulic lift. A section of the garage is portioned off by heavy steel sheeting with a padlocked door.

One of the two men unlocks it. Creasy and Rayburn enter.

PARTITION

Three long steel tables. Covered with weapons.

Creasy stops by the pistols.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 82.

Next he’s looking at grenades. He hefts two different choices.

He picks up a double barrel shotgun, checks the line of it. He flicks open the breach, snaps it shut.

JUMP CUTS of the following being loaded into a bag: .45 Colt, ammo, clips, bodyarmor (the kind you wear under your clothing), nightvision scope, a couple of flash-bang grenades, flex-cuffs, a silent 9mm Beretta, a small shotgun, pepper spray, and four cellphones.

OVER TELEPHONE RINGING

Rosanna picks up phone.

Creasy holding the card Rosanna gave him.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 83.

Creasy hangs up.

Manzano, Rosanna, and technicians are listening to voice analysis tapes of various kidnappers. They’re struggling. Rosanna hands the piece of paper with the license plate number to Manzano.

Rosanna pauses.

Manzano plays back a recording of the Kidnapper.

VOICE "I used to run through the streets of Neza because I was scared of being fucked with. I swore one day I would cross the street walking. Now I walk."

Rosanna waits for a response. None.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 84.

Finally deciding, Manzano turns, holds out his hand. As Rosanna hands him the paper with the partial license written on it.,

JORGE RAMIREZ, the 350 lb. driver who shot Creasy in the shoulder exits. Whistling to himself, gets behind the wheel of a Fiat 500.

Unaware he’s being shadowed by a man on a scooter. Creasy.

As it comes to a stop. Jorge gets out. We hear the scooter whine as Jorge crosses the street and enters a PUBLIC BUILDING.

Creasy watches and waits. Time lapse of the building

Jorge exits the building still trying to get the last button of his police uniform closed. He’s a cop. He struggles to get behind the wheel of the Fiat. The car is tiny.

Someone’s getting in on the passenger side.

As Jorge starts to protest, Creasy rams a Sig into his gut. At the same time, he takes Jorge’s gun from its holster.

Creasy jams him in the gut again.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 85.

Jorge starts the engine. As he eases out into traffic.

A car graveyard sitting on top of a 300 foot cliff overlooking a real tough barrio. Gravel crunches under the Fiat’s tires as it drives to the edge of a cliff.

CREASY’S VOICE Stop here. Turn off the ignition.

Jorge does as he’s told. Suddenly the Sig comes down hard. WHACK! As Jorge’s vision explodes...

Still in the driver’s seat, Jorge wakes. The first thing he sees is that his hands are taped to the steering wheel with his pudgy white fingers exposed. He is naked, reminiscent of the 18 year old in the opening sequence.

Jorge nods, the pain in his head blinding.

Creasy opens Pinta’s notebook to a blank page near the end. He clicks open a pen.

Creasy presses in the car’s cigarette lighter.

Then he opens a buck knife. Jorge winces at the sound of the blade locking.

The cigarette lighter pops back out.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 86.

Holy sweet Jesus... Sweat drips down Jorge’s forehead. He tries to master his fear. Swallows dry.

Without warning Creasy reaches up with the buck knife, a flash of steel.

The big man howls, his left ear suddenly missing, starts an epic struggle, practically breaking the wheel off the steering column. He is like a bucking Rhinoceros.

He howls as Creasy sprays his face with pepper spray.

The passenger side door opens and Creasy stumbles out. Some of the pepper spray has gotten in his face as well.

Creasy wipes his tearing eyes. And then he turns. Hefting the knife in his hand, he marches back toward the car.

JORGE’S VOICE No! No!

And then a terrible SCREAM. BLOOD squirts against the inside of the windshield. The car rocks on its shocks. And then another terrible SCREAM.

JORGE

Stares at the stump of his right forefinger, smoke rising up off it. Creasy sticks the lighter back in its hole.

And Creasy looking at him, devoid of emotion.

It takes a moment for Creasy to come back. He picks up the pen and notebook.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 87.

Jorge hesitates. As Creasy sets the pen down...

Creasy jerks back Jorge’s middle finger, raises the knife.

CLOSE ON CREASY

Scream, as the knife comes down. Creasy tosses the finger out the window, wipes some of Jorge’s blood off his cheek.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 88.

FLASHBACKS: See Pinta being manhandled from the white Fiat to the trunk of Grand Marquis. She has been bound and taped around the mouth and eyes.

Creasy looks like he’ll kill him on the spot. Muzzles his Sig into the palm of Jorge’s right hand.

Creasy cocks the trigger.

Creasy closes the notebook, caps the pen. It’s over.

A gunshot echoes over the barrio. Creasy gets out of the car, reaches back to release the emergency brake.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 89.

The Fiat 500 goes over the cliff.

Kids playing SOCCER. One of them kicks an errant pass. It skips down the street toward an approaching Creasy.

The kids shout for him to kick the ball back, but he ignores them. As the kids curse him out, Creasy enters 1- 1-3...

BOOM UP alongside the building. A man steps to a third floor window... man two who stuffed Pinta into the car. His name is Sandri. And we’re inside.

SANDRI (Italian Immigrant)

Putting his cufflinks through his shirt sleeves. Wearing a shoulder holster. A satisfied smile as he looks back into the room. At the bed. A 17-year-old GIRL under the sheet.

Pulling on his suit coat, Sandri steps to the door. He mimes a pistol action with his forefinger and thumb. He opens it to find himself staring square into the eyes of Creasy. He rests the twin barrels of the sawed-off shotgun square against Sandri’s chest.

Sandri registers the name. Creasy swings the shotgun down to Sandri’s groin.

BA-BOOM. A flock of pigeons explode out of the Jacaranda trees.

BLACKNESS SCREEN

CREASY’S VOICE Roman’s Chapter 13:21. Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good. There is no authority except from God.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 90.

Creasy swimming toward the far wall. As he rolls, kicks off, it’s Pinta who emerges from the bubbles swimming back the over way.

Pinta swims through the a maroon cloud filtering through the water.

CU of Pinta’s diary. Creasy opens it up. The bullet sits in the center crease. He thumbs through the pages stopping on different days. Pinta’s V.O. Illustrating those pages.

Handball court. Intense game with big money stakes. A sea of criminal faces cheer on the gladiators from the bleachers. It’s a close match.

A 200 pound Guardian removes his T-shirt before serving. Turns to reveal a huge tattoo across two-thirds of his back. Creasy registers his prey.

A small Russian Taurus crests a hill and descends into Hell. A frightening looking Barrio. Burnt out cars and dead dogs line the sidewalks. Creasy tails the Guardian on his moped into the center of a trash dump. The focal point being a semi-derelict church within a gated compound. Our ’tattooed handball genius’ exits the Taurus. Reaches in back for the groceries.

A knock. GUARDIAN TWO steps over, carries a pistol. He slides back a speakeasy slot to reveal our tattooed Guardian.

Guardian One stands at the slot. Creasy is pressed up against the wall out of sight. He holds the shotgun wrapped in a ragged beach towel.

As the door unlocks and opens and Guardian One steps in, Creasy slides in right behind him.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 91.

As the butt of the shotgun makes contact with Guardian Two’s mouth. Blood spouts as his front teeth are smashed in.

As he raises his hands to his face, the pistol he holds discharges into the ceiling. Guardian One watches as Creasy clubs him again in the head.

Frightened footsteps running on the other side of a plywood wall. A female voice yelling from the other room. Creasy gauges their whereabouts.

BOOM! Creasy fires into the wall. Wall explodes.

Guardian Three freezes mid stride. It’s a tough looking woman in her 40’s.

The three guardians stand facing the wall. Hands bound with tape or cuffed. Naked (like our 18 year old) other than their dirty skivvies.

Creasy holds up a picture of Pinta. An I.D. picture taken from her schoolbook.

All three look...and with a strange defiant arrogance.

BOOM! BOOM! Creasy kills Guardian One.

INTERCUT THE FOLLOWING:

The two Guardians each bound in two different rooms. Both have their eyes taped shut. Creasy interrogates Guardian Two.

Creasy picks a cell phone up off the table, hits redial. It’s a blocked line.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 92.

Creasy takes the ATM card from Guardian Two’s shirt pocket as he lies on the floor.

FLASHBACK: Guardians POV. Hearing the above.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 93.

FLASHBACK: Guardians POV. See the wall shake from a bodily impact..

BOOM! Creasy shoots Guardian Two.

GUARDIAN THREE (Female)

Becomes a panicked whirling dervish at the sound. A moment later Creasy is there. Tearing the tape off her eyes.

The white tiled room we saw Pinta held in. The door opens and Guardian Three leads Creasy in.

The Female Guardian points. Creasy steps over. There’s a smear of BLOOD against the wall.

FLASHBACK: Guardian’s POV through window. We glimpse through a dirty window, Pinta’s body being put into a car trunk.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 94.

And Creasy stands there a moment. Realizes she is telling the truth. Lost. And the sound that snaps him out of it... A GIRL CRYING. And Creasy is suddenly moving down...

THE HALLWAY

After the sound. He kicks open a door. There!

In a 8’ X 4’ room. A 12-year-old GIRL. Bound and blindfolded.

FLASHCUT: We think it’s Pinta for a heartbeat, but it’s not.

A window to the left explodes as the room is enveloped in flames. The front door opens, a weird sight. Creasy exits holding both the 12-year-old’s hand and the Female Guardian who’s bound and blindfolded in her underwear.

They walk straight at camera as flames shoot out of the roof. Creasy has set the place on fire. Creasy is on fire. And as they continue to walk towards us...

BLACK SCREEN

CREASY’S VOICE Roman chapter 13:7. Therefore whoever resists authority will bring judgement on themselves. Now it is time to awake out of sleep for our salvation is nearer than we first believed.

A telephone ringing. Rosanna at her desk. She picks up the phone.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 95.

CREASY’S VOICE It’s Creasy.

CREASY’S VOICE Los Arcos. Was a little girl kidnapped recently? About twelve maybe?

CREASY’S VOICE What was her name?

Creasy on the cellphone, the small Russian Taurus in the background. He stands outside the building still holding the little girl’s hand. She has the same lost look he does. Female Guardian in the back of car.

The girl looks up at the name.

Creasy hands the girl an ice cream cone. He looks over as Rosanna hurries over from across the street.

Creasy puts the little girl’s hand into Rosanna’s.

Creasy hands her the ATM card.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 96.

Rosanna notices the blood on Creasy’s shirt. Near his stomach.

Creasy looks at the girl and starts off, then looks back.

NOTE: THE FOLLOWING SCENE SHOULD PLAY AT THE BURNED OUT SAFEHOUSE WITH ROSANNA.

A beehive. Cops. Photos of dead kidnappers on the wall: Jorge and Sandri. Sandri emasculated, one hand missing. Jorge behind the wheel, fingers stubs and a missing ear.

Manzano studies the photo of Jorge.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 97.

Manzano looks at his Adjutant, pleased with his perception. But he isn’t sharing.

An AFI agent brings over a plate of red shredded chicken. Manzano takes a bite, moans in pleasure.

SURVEILLANCE ROOM

Seen through a two-way mirror. Manzano watches as...

Rayburn sits at a steel chair, bolted to the floor. Rayburn’s eyes are closed. In meditation. Then, slowly, his arms extend out to the sides. Manzano is curious as, slower still, Rayburn extends both hands out in front of him, palms up. Must be a Zen thing.

Then, both MIDDLE FINGERS are extended. With eyes still closed, Rayburn mouths ’fuck you’. Manzano bursts a laugh.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 98.

INTERROGATION ROOM TWO

Rayburn opens his eyes, looks over as Manzano enters. Still eating, he hands Rayburn a second plate of chicken.

Manzano enjoys another bite, then...

Work in Progress 2/10/03 99.

Rayburn flinches at some bitter memory.

The words sink in. Manzano understands their magnitude.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 100.

Framed commendations fall to the carpet as Rosanna slams up against the wall of Manzano’s office. Skirt up around her waist, Manzano moves inside of her. Between breaths:

She bites the heel of his palm to keep from crying out.

As they both climax, pressed up hard against each other...

He kisses her, turned on again already.

As Manzano considers this, likes it, Rosanna takes the ATM card out from her bra.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 101.

Underwater as Pinta swims. As she spins, kicks off the wall, it’s Creasy who comes out the other side. A plume of red blossoming off his side.

This is done over and over, faster and faster, closer and closer. The blood becomes darker, bigger. And we push into that blood until it’s finally obscuring everything.

A row of newspapers being set out. Creasy’s face on the front page of every one of them.

A quaint old Mexico neighborhood. We follow a long canvas bag being carried through the streets. Carried by Creasy. Toward the end of the street and a ground floor apartment. Walks past a canary yellow Coup deVille, which has seen better days.

An elderly couple eating lunch. The HUSBAND looks over at a knock on the door. He stands, answers it. Creasy slides in, eases the door shut behind him. Gun in hand.

A military operation as Tazinari is led out to his car. Two heavy gray sedans wait. Tazinari gets in the back of the second car with his AIDE-DE-CAMP. The door is shut behind them.

MERCEDES

The door closes with an hermetic whump. The two cars pull away toward the opening FRONT GATES.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 102.

Creasy has just finished taping the old couple to two chairs.

The old man looks to his wife, then back to Creasy. Nods.

The old man watches as Creasy opens he canvas bag, pulls out two metal tubes that he screws together. It’s a ROCKET LAUNCHER. Next he pulls out a cone-shaped missile. The old man is starting to look curious.

Creasy depresses the fins on the missile and slides it back into the tube.

Creasy doesn’t answer, steps into the center of the room.

Creasy looks back and forth between two shuttered windows and in a line to the wall with a household Catholic alter. Christ on the cross sits front and center.

A figure rises, framed in the window.

And Pinta stands beside him. As she puts her fingers in her ears...

Creasy looks back over his shoulder, but of course she’s not there.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 103.

Creasy fires the rocket launcher. A gout of flame erupts from the back. But Creasy has hung a blanket on the wall.

Eyes widening as the first rocket streaks toward them. The driver stands on the brakes. The car explodes, is obliterated really, from the inside out.

Tazinari’s car slams into the debris of the lead car and slides sideways against a wall wedging it in. Real tight.

CREASY

A ’Man On Fire’ strides through the smoke and dust. A shotgun at his side and a Molotov cocktail in his left hand.

Without missing a stride he unloads both barrels into the drivers window. A scary prospect even though it’s bullet- proof. The lit Molotov explodes beneath the car. Silence. Then a dull impact explosion. 30 feet of flames envelope the car. The driver and Tazinari both prisoners inside their own car.

The driver exits releasing a full clip from his Uzi. Creasy nails him with a single shot to the head.

Tazinari exits through the flames hands high in the air.

There sits the canary yellow Coupe deVille. Eyes and mouth taped shut, hands and ankles bound by flex-cuffs. Tazinari stands there.

Creasy steps up, pulls the tape off Tazinari’s eyes. He looks about, relatively calm considering.

As Tazinari tries to process...

Work in Progress 2/10/03 104.

Creasy tears the tape off his mouth.

Creasy pulls the buck knife from his pocket, flips it open. As Tazinari reacts, Creasy spins him round, slits his clothes up from ankle to neck. The cloth drops away, some hanging at Tazinari’s wrists. Tazinari has a sudden loss of attitude.

Close up: Tazinari hands being cuff flexed and tied to side view mirrors of the Coupe deVille.

Cut back to see Tazinari, naked other than his Calvin Klein skivvies, spread-eagled across the grill of the car, butt forward (Reminiscent of ’the woods scene’ in DELIVERANCE)

Creasy rips down his Calvins. CU of Tazinari’s face winces with either pain or extreme discomfort.

As Tazinari reacts...

We hear the CLICK of the trigger being cocked back.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 105.

Creasy puts a tape recorder on the hood and presses the record button.

MORE FLASHES: As we see this happen. POV from opposite side of the bridge. POV from the drop car. See the money drop get ambushed by unknown faces. ’The nephew’ gets shot. The kidnapper running the show sounds like Woody Woodpecker, high pitched squeaky voice.

Tazinari doesn’t answer. Creasy gives the Magnum a tweak.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 106.

FLASHBACK: Tazinari, in his office, sifting through the paper.

FLASHBACK: Ramos House. Bags of cash being switched from the Mercedes with the flat tire to the 2nd Mercedes in the garage. See that Jordan does the switch, four bags on the floor.

As Creasy thinks. Tazinari has been stretched to his limit.

Creasy switches off the tape recorder and pockets it.

Relief for Tazinari as the .44 Is withdrawn. Creasy walks around the car Tazinari now looking like a naked hood ornament. Butt first.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 107.

Average speed 80 m.p.h. This is Mexico. Creasy slips the clutch, jumps out, and the Coup deVille kangaroos forward down the ramp. Gathering momentum into the oncoming traffic. Tazinari screams right on impact.

Flambouyant, beautiful 16-year-old boy with a black eye and bloody nose. Jordan’s boyfriend. Terrified and in tears runs down the hallway. Creasy following.

A huge maroon cloud covers the center of the pool. In the middle of the cloud is Jordan face down floating on the surface dressed in his beige linen suit.

UNDERWATER

CLOSE UP of Jordan face down. We glimpse what we don’t want to see. Black holes where his eyes and mouth were. His ears missing.

Creasy not terribly impressed. Just pissed that he’s late.

Creasy on a cell phone talking to Rosanna

Creasy doing laps. He swims the last few meters underwater. As he surfaces, Pinta waits by the edge. She nods in grim satisfaction.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 108.

He isn’t doing well. The cloud of deep red emanating from his stomach envelopes his whole body.

Samuel eats dinner silently. Lisa just stares into space, nursing a vodka. Even great marriages cannot survive the trauma of kidnapping and subsequent death.

The door opens and they expect to see Maria with the deserts. Creasy enters and sits at the table like a dinner guest.

He takes a Colt Officer model .45 semi-automatic pistol out of his waistband and lays it on the table in preparation for something, we don’t know what. He turns to Lisa.

Creasy looks to Samuel.

Lisa’s eyes never leave Creasy’s...trying to discern whether this is true or not.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 109.

Lisa screams. Creasy gestures with a finger to his lips.

Samuel looks to Lisa.

Through all of the above, Creasy removes the special bullet held in the seam of his wallet. The misfire. He empties the other cartridges from his gun.

Lisa suddenly attacks Samuel in a violent, emotional outburst of tears, screaming, and rage. Drawing blood from his nose and upper lip. Samuel smothers Lisa’s arms beneath his. He appears strong and decisive for the first time.

Creasy very carefully takes the bullet, puts it into the magazine and chambers the round. He looks into Samuel’s eyes.

Creasy hands Samuel the gun.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 110.

Creasy exits the room. Samuel kisses Lisa on the forehead and exits onto the terrace.

A GUNSHOT.

Lisa just sits. Where will she find air to breathe?

Life moves on with its brutal inevitability. This is a river whose course cannot be altered.

PINTA’S VOICE From the backseat I can see Creasy’s eyes in the mirror. He watches and thinks. He never smiles. I wish I was back in the front seat with him. I wish he would smile.

Creasy looks up from the notebook and out at the city. And a smile comes. But it’s bitter and hopeless.

It’s half grief, half not knowing where to go next, what to do. And he’s dying. He knows that too. Creasy dials a number on a cell phone.

ROSANNA’S VOICE Creasy.

CLOSE ON ROSANNA

Inside somewhere.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 111.

Back on Rosanna. We see she’s sitting in the AFI Operations Center amongst Technicians, surveillance and listening devices, and Manzano.

We can hear the interior of a family house, kids, a frustrated mother, a Mexican soap playing in the B.G., over speakers.

Manzano is carrying a 8" X 10" digital blow up of a handsome Mexican John Gotti type in some nightclub environment.

Rosanna understands the consequences makes light of them.

Manzano discreetly slides his hands up her crotch.

Her car draws up. Her driver exits and opens her door. She steps out. But waiting inside is a welcoming committee. A HOODED FIGURE wielding a shotgun who shoots the driver in both knees.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 112.

HOODED FIGURE waves the shotgun under Rosanna’s nose. A warning. Then disappears into the darkness.

CUT TO

Rosanna in her apartment in the dark. A tear trails her cheek.

CU of the proofsheet of the next day’s newspaper. The Boss’ picture, full frame.

Creasy moves in the shadows looking remarkably strong considering his wounds.

CREASY - SURVEILLANCE POV

Cameras whirring. Video being shot. He hasn’t arrived alone. As he disappears inside...

The OWNER watches nervously as Creasy approaches wearing a wool CAP. A pale attempt at disguising his identity. There’s a newspaper folded on his dais, more photos of Creasy, his dead targets, the story of his vendetta.

Empty restaurant, chairs on tables. An exterior streetlight illuminates the darkness. The owner leads him down a row of empty booths. Creasy slows, stops as he sees the only person waiting for him is Manzano. As Manzano smiles.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 113.

The table is covered in an arrangement of the best food you will ever find in Mexico. Creasy sits.

Manzano smiles; he likes Creasy.

The WAITER steps over; Manzano waves him off.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 114.

Manzano laughs again. Genuine. Creasy cracks him up.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 115.

Manzano reaches into his pocket. He pulls out a folded PIECE OF PAPER and a PRESCRIPTION BOTTLE. He hands the bottle out first.

Creasy makes no move to take it. Manzano sighs, sets it down in front of him. Regarding the paper...

Creasy holds his hand out. Manzano hesitates.

Creasy doesn’t respond. Finally Manzano gives him the paper, a mimeographed mugshot, and address scrawled on it. Creasy stands. As he scoops up the pills. Creasy starts out.

As Creasy departs...

BLACK SCREEN

Work in Progress 2/10/03 116.

CREASY’S VOICE Romans chapter 13:4 - therefore whoever resists authority will bring judgment on themselves. Now it is time to awake out of sleep for our salvation is nearer than we first believed.

Full page photo of ’the boss’ on the front page of REFORMA.

A tiered house built into the rock face that runs through Mexico City. A scooter is parked. A man sits on it waiting, wearing a crash helmet to hide his now well known features. Creasy.

CREASY - VIDEO FEED

It’s difficult to say where they are coming from. The view passes from one screen to another. As Creasy’s passes, we hear the whispered crackle of radio communications.

GROUND LEVEL

CREASY sits up as a car pulls up, and a MAN gets out. Creasy checks the digital "8x10" even though this face is indelibly imprinted on his brain.

It’s not "The Dreamer." Not as handsome, but there’s a resemblance.

The MAN unlocks the front door, checks the street first and then enters.

Creasy regroups mentally and physically. Checks the magazine in his SIG SAUER. Chambers rounds into his shotgun. Looks up and sees a six-year-old on a bicycle approach the front door. A ten-year-old opens the door from inside. The six-year-old struggles to get his bicycle through the doorway.

Creasy moves. He holds the shotgun against his leg as he strides across the street. "Man on Fire."

The bicycle makes it in. And the door is closing...

Creasy gets a foot in, forces his way inside.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 117.

MANZANO’S OFFICE - AFI HQ

Manzano listens to a radio over a desk speaker.

VOICE He’s inside. What should we do?

The pregnant woman, Reina Rosas, SCREAMING BLOODY MURDER as Creasy fills the space behind her. Creasy follows as she runs.

LIVING ROOM

Creasy faces Reina, heavily pregnant. Silence. Two other kids hide behind her. Suddenly the wall next to Creasy explodes in a hail of bullets.

We realize Creasy caught one round in the chest. He’s down on one knee... uses the shotgun as a crutch. Reina is screaming.

Hear a door torn open. Creasy moves to the sound. A MAN has run out the back...

Creasy steps into courtyard, turns, a VW Bug coming right at him...

Aims his weapon.

THE MAN

Ducks down... windshield shatters from the blast of Creasy’s shotgun... Bug slams into wall. The Man rolls out... using the door as a shield.

BARRIO

The Man flees into a labyrinth of packing-crate houses on car-tire foundations out into street. Running hard, too hard for Creasy in his condition. He is losing a lot of blood. He stops.

CREASY

Behind the wheel of the Volkswagon, roars out chasing.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 118.

Now through the maze of poverty... Creasy drives hard... no sign of the Man... empty eyes of poverty looking back... mostly women and children... They clearly see Creasy... fully exposed... driving a car with no windshield... He slams the car into reverse.

Someone says "Creasy" aloud... now more faces to turn... children looking directly through his absent windshield.

One skinny kid runs ahead of Creasy. The boy points at one cardboard house propped up against a brick and stucco wall.

Creasy pops the clutch... straight into a small house... taking whole walls of cardboard... to the back brick wall... The ’Man’ is pinned violently between the car and the wall.

BARRIO

Creasy, shotgun in one hand, the injured Man in the other... walks through the barrio... a small crowd is yelling, "Creasy, MAN ON FIRE" (in Spanish: Hombre en Fuego).

The Man badly broken and bleeding lies on the floor, flex- cuffed. Reina screams at Creasy. Creasy’s popping Percodan’s. The hysteria is peaking. Creasy chambers a round and shoots man through left knee. Screams then silence.

Reina hesitates.

Creasy chambers another round and holds the gun to man’s right knee.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 119.

He pulls the hammer back.

Creasy looks to man semiconscious on the floor. She nods

Technician listens into the living room conversation and speaks to Manzano over the radio.

AFI GROUP

congregating around maps, and a "Triggerfish," a means of tracing the location of a cell phone.

Cell phone ringing. Creasy pauses -- picks up the cell.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 120.

Several beats of silence. We can hear Daniel’s breathing.

Daniel hangs up.

AFI TRAILER

MANZANO listening.

LIVING ROOM

Cell phone ringing.

Daniel has a different attitude, a lot more amenable. He tries to speak to Creasy very logically about a very illogical subject.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 121.

Holding the shotgun with his right hand, Creasy holds the phone to Aurillio’s ear.

BOOM! Creasy shoots Aurillio in his right kneecap. As Aurillio HOWLS in agony...

The line goes dead. Hang up. Creasy’s ready to explode.

The phone begins to ring again. Creasy answers.

Creasy’s confused.

Creasy’s confused.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 122.

A long beat.

DANIEL hangs up.

Aurillio moans on the floor. Reina says the rosary. The kids cry. The phone rings. Creasy listens, not capable of speaking.

Time stands still for Creasy. Words evaporate. Liquid film in Creasy’s eyes.

CLOSE UP of Creasy’s shocked face. He pulls down his shirt collar. Bubbles of blood form and reform over his chest wound as the maroon spreads across his chest and stomach.

AFI SURVEILLANCE VAN

Vans on the move. Team Leader, radios.

Creasy driving. Great AC without the front windshield. Keeps him awake. Daniel Sanchez V.O. detailing the drop. Creasy trying desperately to drive and write down the address.

INTERCUT WITH:

Work in Progress 2/10/03 123.

Blinds are drawn. Slivers of light illuminate her emotionally drained face.

He disconnects. He cannot waste his ebbing strength.

Darkness has fallen. Few people are on the street as Creasy pulls to the south end of the bridge. He parks... looks around... it’s deserted. She’s not coming. Checks his watch, turns and walks toward the bridge. The Ramos Mercedes drives up the bridge. Headlights off. Lisa is driving. She exits the car.

She runs to catch Creasy.

He climbs the steps of the bridge trying to maintain his dignity through the pain. He can see cars parked on the other side.

OTHER SIDE OF THE BRIDGE - Creasy’s POV

Creasy’s dreamlike POV (Is it real or a dream) A driver exits a shadowed car and opens the passenger door. A SMALL FIGURE in a hooded sweat shirt and sweat pants exits the car. Confused. Disoriented.

CREST OF THE BRIDGE

Work in Progress 2/10/03 124.

Creasy waits. Breathing labored breaths. He sees it all.

OTHER SIDE OF THE BRIDGE

The driver unties little hands. Removes a blindfold from under the hood. He steps away. Offering no help.

The small figure is confused.

CREST OF THE BRIDGE

Creasy calls out:

She turns and looks. It looks remarkably like her even under the hooded sweatshirt. She begins to run. Across the street, up the steps toward Creasy. A screaming train flashes beneath. Car headlights illuminate the bridge.

Time stands still and the ’city sounds’ fade out to nothing.

She runs up the remaining stairs and sprints across the bridge. Her hood blows off revealing her full face. It’s definitely Pinta. Camera ramps as he jumps into Creasy’s arms. This is not the little girl we experienced in the beginning of the movie. The experience she just endured has been life changing. All of a sudden we have a 40 year old head on an 8 year old body.

She wraps herself around him. He picks her up. We glimpse a simple tear on his cheek. They talk. But we do not hear the words.

She notices her mom on the far side of the bridge. Creasy maneuvers her toward Lisa.

Before she goes to her mother we hear:

Creasy nods. The inference is that he will see her in a few minutes.

We start to hear Linda Ronstadt painfully, quietly on the wind singing "Blue Bayou." He continues to walk across to the opposite side of the bridge and gets into the kidnappers’ car.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 125.

There’s a certain sort of calm of him. He closes the door, he lays his head against the back window. He looks out at PINTA at the other side of the bridge, where she’s screams for Creasy. "Blue Bayou" gets LOUDER. Pinta now knows it was a lie. Creasy is not coming back. We’re shooting through the glass of the back window. We se Mexico City reflected in the glass. As the car pulls out, time slows, and we see Creasy lay his head back and close his eyes as the car descends down into a dark tunnel.

Pinta can see Creasy’s face, eyes slowly closing. He can hear her screams before being enveloped by the night. As "Blue Bayou" continues...

Dark spot in the road. Suddenly Police lights, on the roofs of four cars, flash simultaneously in front, in blocking position. The driver turns and looks back wanting to escape. He has a blacked out AFI armored van right on his rear bumper. Nowhere to go.

SWAT at his door. He’s pulled and proned out onto the road.

Manzano enters the driver’s seat. Reaching back to Creasy. Grabs his hand.

Manzano does a U-turn. Heading away. On his portable radio.

He reaches back again.

CLOSE UP - Two hands clasp.

Creasy’s left with Manzano’s right. A strong grip. Then no response. Manzano pulls to the curb.

Manzano reaches Creasy’s wrist. Takes his pulse. Creasy’s gone.

Beat.

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Manzano kneels. Still holding Creasy. Unfolds Creasy’s fingers.

CLOSE UP - Pinta’s medallion of St. Jude clutched in his hand.

Manzano punches the seat again again and again.

Manzano looks at Creasy and makes a decision.

Dark, suburban Cuernavaca street. Creasy’s car rounds the corner. Security outside the compound motions to open the garage doors. The driver of the car is faceless. Street light reflections across the windshield.

The car enters the gates. A collection of armed bodies appear in the courtyard curious to see this national hero. "Hombre en Fuego."

The car stops. Nothing. This beat seems interminable. A hand opens the rear door: His forehead explodes. The driver door opens barely two shots, two more bodies drop.

Panic and confusion. Everybody runs for cover. An overhead helicopter illuminates the mayhem in the courtyard. An armored vehicle rams through the gates.

Manzano explodes out of the driver’s door in slow motion. He is clearly on a mission. He strides through the mayhem, Creasy’s Sig Sauer in one hand, and a .45 auto in the other.

Manzano’s guide to his destination is the ’The Dreamer’s’ little Jack Russell running back to his master on instinct.

Manzano moves purposefully. His surrounding environment is Chaplinesque in its chaos. He enters a long walkway to a patio, following the dog. Daniel Sanchez appears at the end of the hall. We ramp him into slow motion. The Mexican version of Gotti. He raises his arms, prepared for the inevitable. The outcome is a given.

Work in Progress 2/10/03 127.

Manzano unloads a magazine into him and we -

FREEZE FRAME

SUPER TITLE: "HOMBRE EN FUEGO"

BLACKNESS.

CREASY’S VOICE Ezekiel 25:17. Blessed is he who in the name of charity and good will shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness for he is truly his brother’s keeper and the finder of lost children.