"SICARIO" (2015)

SICARIO

Written by

TAYLOR SHERIDAN

Address Phone Number

OPEN ON:

A MAN, standing waist-deep in the surf. White shirt, neck tie, hair perfectly parted. Wire framed glasses rest on the bridge of his nose. His name is ALEJANDRO.

He rises his face to the sun.

He looks young for 35, but his eyes -- seems they lived for decades before him. He closes them, bathing his face in sunshine.

The muscles of his neck tense.

His lip curls. His eyes open. He looks down.

We hear SPLASHING and the panicked gasps of a man trying not to drown.

Only now do WE SEE: Alejandro is holding someone under the water.

He lets the drowning man catch a breath, barely. Pushes him back under. Looks out. Lost in thought.

We watch from the beach as Alejandro stands in the ocean to his belly, the sun high overhead.

YESTERDAY.

-- FRAME IS FILLED WITH A BLUE EYE, AS BLUE AS THE OCEAN --

The eye blinks, and we can almost feel a breeze -- we are that close.

WOMAN’S VOICE (Whispered) Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy Name. Thy Kingdom come...

A VERTICAL LINE OF WHITE LIGHT invades us, then grows. The eye disappears in it’s wake.

WOMAN’S VOICE (CONT’D) Thy will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven.

TWO DOORS swing open. We see the silhouettes of TWELVE PEOPLE DRESSED FOR BATTLE, rifles at the ready, barrels pointing up. CAMERA is so close to the woman’s face, it almost touches her. Her lips are moving, silently reciting...

We are in a SWAT ASSAULT VEHICLE. It is MOVING BACKWARDS fast and slams through a faded picket fence. Stops in the yard of a crumbling house.

They all rise and leap from the vehicle.

WE ARE RIGHT BEHIND THE WOMAN, who mumbles the prayer as she runs. The back of her vest reads: FBI. Her name is KATE MACY.

They reach the door, a shotgun BLASTS THE HINGES. It falls like a drawbridge.

She speaks the prayer faster, desperate to finish before she has to kill anyone, or be killed herself.

SWAT officers rush in, screaming.

Macy’s turn: She runs through the busted door-

In the hallway now. The chaos is closer. She hurries the words. So close now...

Two LATINO MEN, 20’S, are slammed to the ground. Another LATINO comes from nowhere, throwing himself on an AFRICAN AMERICAN MAN wearing an FBI vest. A taser is pressed to his neck and he falls, paralyzed, backward.

Macy takes in the chaos, then pushes farther into the house, running past a bedroom with an open door.

From the corner of her eye she sees:

A MAN POINTING A SHOTGUN AT HER.

She ducks as a SHOTGUN BLAST rips 10 inches of dry wall above her.

She turns, pressing the CAMERA against the wall. We watch over her shoulder as she returns fire.

A rooster tail of shell casings are thrown over us, invading our view. Bullet after bullet pound him. The man’s knees give. He’s falling...

A round hits him in the face and he is thrown back -- blood, brain, and skull fragments explode like shrapnel on the wall behind him.

Adrenaline hits her like a fever. She gets dizzy, sits against the wall, gasping for breath. A SWAT officer rushes to her.

The SWAT officer looks at the hole in the drywall. Leans forward. Looks closer... What the fuck IS that??

His face now inches from the hole then jumps back like he was bitten by a snake.

WE SEE WHAT HE SEES:

The SKULL OF A MAN. Dry skin sunken into bones like cellophane.

Macy stands up and turns around. Looks at it. Trying to process what she’s seeing. She walks up and starts pulling at the drywall. Other officers join her. They yank and tear a six foot hole in the wall, then stand back, speechless.

Bodies are standing side by side. A lime-green dust has spilled out on the floor.

The entire house is a tomb.

Macy sits on the porch. Swallows water from a bottle. Holds it down maybe ten seconds. Vomits... We see another SWAT OFFICER doing the same.

FBI AGENT REGGIE WAYNE, 30, African American, walks from the house, fighting the same urge. Sits beside her.

Macy nods.

She looks out over the sea of POLICE VEHICLES on the street and spots PHOENIX HOMICIDE DETECTIVE LANCE ALVAREZ, 45, heading right for them.

Reggie is on his feet in an instant and inches from Lance’s face.

Lance swallows his anger and his pride, walks toward the house.

She turns and sees: FBI REGIONAL DIRECTOR DAVE JENNINGS, 50, leather skin stretched over a square jaw that rests on broad shoulders. Beside him is DEPUTY DIRECTOR PHIL COOPER, 40, balding and thin, exactly the man you want analyzing data.

Jennings and Phil reach her.

She doesn’t but she will.

No dry wall anywhere now: the walls have been stripped to the frame, exposing another DOZEN BODIES. CORONERS in protective suits remove them as DETECTIVES photograph the scene. The smell is atrocious.

Jennings nods and sighs.

Phil nods, pulls his cell and steps away.

The smell is getting to Reggie. Doesn’t look like he’s going to make it...

Don’t have to tell him twice.

Jennings walks to the wall. Studies the faces -- one in particular, tinted an ashy green from lye and months of decay -- his mouth open wide and eyes shut so tight that his brow is a tangle of wrinkles, as though he is suffering his death for eternity.

We see a GARAGE, and to it’s left A STORAGE SHED. AN OFFICER yanks boxes and garbage from it, tossing it on the driveway. He reaches the floor, which is covered with rubber matts. He pulls one up and discovers a 3’ X 3’ piece of plywood hinged to the floor and locked.

They are brought over and the lock is cut. The officer kneels down. Lifts the hatch a little. Looks under, flashlight in hand...

-- WE ARE UNDERNEATH THE PLYWOOD, FLASHLIGHT IN OUR EYES --

As the hatch is lifted -- TWO HOOKS with wires are visible to our left and right. As the hatch is lifted, the wires pull tighter... We see where they lead: TWO GRENADES.

Jennings and Macy walk down the hall. Jennings stops at the body of the man Macy killed, then notices --

Through a screen door at the end of the hall -- officers rushing toward the shed.

Macy and Jennings walk outside. As the sunlight hits them, the officer open the hatch, the wires pull tight and we hear a ‘clink’.

-- THE GRENADES EXPLODE. TWO OFFICERS BLOWN TO OBLIVION --

Dust, debris, smoke, and pieces of them roll toward Jennings and Macy like a wave, swallowing them.

Our entire world is filled with a brown cloud and screams...

We see children splashing and playing in a large pool through enormous windows in MANUEL DIAZ’S living room. As we pull back, we hear the sounds of a NEWS REPORT.

CAMERA PIVOTS and we are looking at a TV across a flawlessly decorated living room. Aerial footage of the tract house and obliterated storage plays.

A MAN leans into frame. His head slowly shakes as he watches and listens. A cell phone rings. He answers it, mutes the TV, and retreats out of frame, leaving us to watch the news in silence, as the sounds of children splashing and laughing wafts in through an open window.

We stare at the spout. Water washes over us. We look at the drain. Dirt, blood, and small fragments of pink, white, and navy blue circle the drain as gravity carries them to the sewers of Phoenix.

Dark brown hair is vigorously scrubbed. Macy does not relax in this shower-- that is not its purpose. The purpose is to decontaminate.

Macy stands in front of the mirror, brushing her hair. There are abrasions on her cheek and a deep cut that runs down from the corner of her eye-- like she cried a scar.

The hair brush catches. Pulls her head back.

She extracts the brush. Feels around on her scalp and retrieves a piece of bone. Looks at it...

She wraps it in toilet paper, sets it on the counter, and gets back in the shower. Turns it on. Gonna try this again...

The decor is Spare. Functional and nothing more. Doesn’t even tease herself with pictures on the wall.

Macy walks in wearing a large men’s t shirt, nothing else. Her COMPUTER CHIRPS. ROSALYN4620 is asking that she chat. Macy looks at the screen.

Keeps walking. Her cell phone rings. Call display: MOM.

Macy’s body tenses and deflates at the same time.

She hits a button on her computer and ROSALYN MACY, 60 today, appears. She leans back and forth in front of the lens, still unsure about this technology that beams her image through space.

Rosalyn’s happy mood is gone.

Silence.

Macy holds her tongue, but it takes effort.

Macy sighs.

Beat.

Macy slams the laptop closed. She rubs her eyes... So tired. Her cell phone rings. She flips it open, angry --

Hangs up. Day’s not over.

Macy and Reggie sit in chairs against a glass wall. NEWS FOOTAGE of the blast plays on monitors along the wall of a command center filled with activity.

In the glass office behind them, a dozen men in suits. Jennings, in the same shape as Macy, has deflated into a chair, Phil sitting beside him.

Macy turns and looks through the wall at the men.

Jennings makes eye contact with Macy through the glass. For the first time, he seems old to her.

All these men look important, except one: MATT GRAVES, 40, golf shirt, bit of a belly, red, shaggy hair -- looks like a tourist. His demeanor is easy, you almost get the sense he’s having fun. Macy turns around and rests her head against the glass.

Macy lets out a heavy breath, looks back through the glass to find: every man in the room is STARING RIGHT AT HER.

Phil walks toward them, pushes open the door.

She rises and shares a look with Reggie. The door closes behind her.

Matt smiles, friendly. A man in his 40’s, military haircut, BURNETT, looks her over.

She says nothing.

She looks at Matt.

Beat.

Beat.

Macy feels woefully unprepared for an inquisition.

Who the fuck is this clown in the golf shirt?

Matt smiles. Phil stands up.

She stands there for a beat, utterly confused, then leaves.

She sits back down next to Reggie.

We watch the men speaking through the glass, then they all file out of the office except Jennings and Matt. Phil stands at the door.

She walks in and stands across from Jennings.

Matt smiles, like they’re discussing renovating a kitchen.

Beat.

She looks back at Reggie.

He smiles. She takes this in.

Jennings’ eyes beg her to say no. But the hunter in her is awake. She looks back at Reggie -- his eyes are full of concern...

Jennings looks at her. Nods. She is theirs now...

Morning sun hits closed eyes. Dark, fat face. Beads of sweat on his brow and cheeks. Thick mustache. His name is SILVIO.

A SHADOW falls over him. He feels it. Eyes pop open, tense.

BOY’S VOICE Papa?

A smile crosses Silvio’s face.

BOY’S VOICE (CONT’D) Despirtate.

Silvio closes his eyes. The little boy taps him on the chest.

BOY’S VOICE Si.

Silvio’s smile grows. It is a game.

We see the boy now. He is eight. Bright brown eyes. His name is ELISEO.

Silvio acts surprised.

The boy laughs and grabs his father’s hand, tugging.

The boy pulls with all his might. Silvio makes a show of resisting, then climbs out of bed. Eliseo keeps a tight hold of his hand, and walks him down a hall to a small kitchen with adobe walls and a dirt floor. An opening leads to a small patio that now serves mostly as a chicken coop. Two chickens are in the kitchen.

A woman stands over a stove, cooking.

She turns and smiles at her son, the bright star in her black life. Her eyes pass over Silvio. She stopped loving him years ago, but he adores their little boy... At least they have that.

He sits down. She scoops eggs onto a plate with tortillas, drops it in front of him. Hands him a coffee. He sniffs it, hands it back. Without a word she pours in two fingers of tequila.

The boy stares at his father with endless joy. No idea how unlucky he is.

Silvio stares back, winks. The boy smiles.

Silvio and Eliseo exit the house. Silvio wears a State Police uniform, dressed to intimidate. The boy wears his uniform, dressed to play soccer. They walk past cinder-block houses, one after the other, cracked and faded from the sun.

Tejano music, car horns, and distant yelling penetrate the morning.

Two ARMORED PERSONNEL CARRIERS drive past.

Silvio and Eliseo wander away, Eliseo’s tiny hand clinging to Silvio’s police belt. Eliseo has his father for the whole day and he isn’t letting go.

They turn and disappear around the corner. Only thing on the street is a stray dog burying itself in an overturned trash can... The mascot of this dying city.

We are back with Alejandro, holding a man under water. Face to the sun, somehow able to focus fully on the task at hand while escaping to someplace else.

He lets the man up. Coughing, heaving up salt water, and sobbing. He looks at Alejandro with the pleading eyes of a man whose will has been broken.

He nods.

Alejandro lets the man up and pushes him toward the shore. We now see the man wears a MILITARY UNIFORM. He walks ahead of Alejandro, looking back.

The man makes a half hearted attempt at attacking Alejandro, who pushes and spins him like a defiant child.

They walk a few steps and the man tries it again. Alejandro’s appears only half committed to the sloppy assault. Alejandro slaps the man across the face, then pushes him forward, slapping the back of his head as he does.

They reach a stump where Alejandro’s linen coat rests.

They sit back and bathe in the sun. The man is uncomfortable- kidnapper and captive, lounging on the shore. He considers running. Considers fighting him again, but settles on resting his tired back against the stump.

Beat.

Alejandro and the man walk along a two track road through a field of sugar cane.

Beat.

They come around a bend and we see:

A COLOMBIAN MILITARY BASE.

Structures built in simple but orderly rows. Humvees, one after the other, parked neatly in front. Soldiers move about. Colombia may be corrupt, but they are orderly about it. None of the filth and chaos of northern Mexico. They have been at it much longer, with battle lines very clearly drawn.

The man turns to Alejandro.

Alejandro nods.

Alejandro offers him a polite smile.

The man walks away, turning back occasionally to see if he is truly free.

Alejandro turns in another direction, spots THREE US MARINE HUMVEES, EIGHT MARINES BESIDE THEM. Matt stands in front. They walk toward each other.

Alejandro looks over the Marines.

Alejandro’s kind, hollow eyes almost show emotion.

Alejandro stands for a moment. The tiniest hint of a smile curls his lips.

Reggie drives, Macy riding shotgun. Through the windshield, we see the entrance to LUKE AIR FORCE BASE approaching.

She deflects.

She smiles.

Reggie pulls to the guard post, hands over their ID’s. An AIR FORCE MP takes them, compares ID’s to a list.

Macy opens the door and steps out.

She walks around the front of the Tahoe and disappears with the MP into the guard house.

Macy walks toward the runways, looking around, unsure where to go.

She turns, sees Matt.

She walks to him and they head off. Alejandro sits on a bench, patiently. They walk to him.

He stands.

Alejandro studies her.

He walks off, they follow. He leads them to a GULFSTREAM G650.

They climb in.

They strap themselves in as the pilot speaks with the tower. Macy sits beside Alejandro. Studies him. He looks like a doctor or accountant, but there is an absent manner to his actions, as though nothing warrants his full attention but the weight of his thoughts. He catches her looking at him.

He gives her a polite smile.

He lays his head back and closes his eyes. Macy looks at Matt.

Shakes his head. Could be interpreted as a ‘no’.

She laughs.

He puts his head back, closes his eyes. She looks over at Alejandro who is already asleep. Macy’s wired. No chance of sleep. Pulls a magazine from the seat back as the plane begins to taxi...

-- FLASH BACK --

WE SEE: Alejandro’s face in profile. Sunlight spilling over him through a small window. He looks different. Softer... Happy...

DARK BROWN HAIR lowers into frame toward him. He pushes it back, revealing a young woman. She smiles and kisses him. He lets her hair fall as the kiss grows. Dark hair fills the frame...

It gets very still. Darker now. Sunlight is gone. We PULL BACK. Farther. Farther still. See the woman’s body. She lays face down in a hallway, naked. Blood pooled beneath her.

We hear a HEART BEAT. We move down a hall. Heart beating FASTER. Past a MEXICAN POLICE OFFICER, who somberly watches us... At the end of the hall we hear something rubbing, swaying. We move faster. Heart beats faster. Racing now.

Come to the end of the hall, the SWAYING IS LOUDER. We turn left, push open a door. Look up -- The swaying sound is a ROPE. It swings in and out of frame. We follow it down -- the LIFELESS BODY OF A YOUNG GIRL at the end of it.

BACK TO PRESENT--

Alejandro jolts awake, slamming his hands into the seat in front of him -- scaring the living shit out of Macy.

Alejandro looks straight ahead.

Doesn’t look at her. Sweat rolls down his face.

She keeps looking at him. He turns to her.

We hear the pilot announce their initial descent into El Paso’s FORT BLISS. Alejandro leans back in his seat.

Alejandro lays his head back. Closes his eyes. Macy mumbles to herself.

Alejandro, Macy, and Matt walk off the plane, blinded by the desert sun.

A man in his late 30’s, mustache, DEA AGENT STEVE FERSING, waves from inside a BLACK CHEVY TAHOE. They walk over and climb in.

Steve chuckles.

Macy listens intently, trying to figure out what the hell they’re talking about. Alejandro looks out across the border. Alejandro seems different. He is somewhere else. Somewhere bad.

TWENTY FOOT WALLS surround the center. A GUARD POST in front of an enormous closed gate.

The Tahoe pulls up... A guard, dressed like he is on mission in Afghanistan, steps forward.

Even Steve hands his ID. The guard returns to the guard house with the IDs. Matt turns around and faces Macy.

The guard returns with their IDs.

The gate opens and they pull in.

There must be fifty vehicles, most are unmarked SUVs, but a dozen Humvees and six ARMORED PERSONNEL CARRIERS, complete with 20mm cannons. The area is alive with activity. Agents, deputies, and special forces operators are moving about.

The Tahoe parks and our team gets out. They follow Steve toward the entrance to:

A US MARSHAL stands in front of a video screen showing the route into and out of Juarez. Twenty men seated in chairs. None wear uniforms, but all wear tactical vests, drop-leg holsters, assault rifles by there side. It sounds and looks like a military operation.

They take a seat in the back. Macy the men seated around her.

She is surprised by the directive, turns her focus to the speaker.

Two men in their 50’s stand up. They look like they were teleported from another time -- starched white shirts under bullet proof vests, starched Wranglers, bone colored cowboy hats, and faces tough as boot leather. They turn to the room without smiling.

Alejandro whispers to her.

The Marshal speaking notices Matt in the back.

Matt laughs.

Turns to Macy.

Macy looks very uncomfortable.

A man with a short beard and very broad shoulders nods.

Everyone laughs. The Delta operators rise. Though this is a room of professionals, these men truly look like the ones you want to stand behind.

Men begin rising and readying their gear. The mood is relaxed. Matt walks to the Marshal -- they shake hands and disappear in the back.

He looks at her and offers a smile.

He offers nothing further.

She tries to make sense of that.

Alejandro smiles.

Alejandro nods.

Matt emerges from the other room carrying two M4 carbines and a Kevlar vest. Macy sees him and marches to him.

She doesn’t budge, holds his gaze.

She takes that as a ‘yes’.

She shifts her weight. Hesitates...

He walks off.

After a moment, she follows.

FIVE CHEVY TAHOES, sirens on the dashboard move through El Paso.

We watch from above as they cut their way through traffic...

Macy sits in the back beside Alejandro. He holds a rifle between his legs, barrel pointed down. Macy notices his right hand -- his finger rests on the button that rolls down the window.

The DEA Agent riding shotgun turns back to her.

He points out the window.

He turns back, facing front.

She looks out the window to Juarez. It is so close, you could throw a frisbee into it.

THE CONVOY turns onto the BRIDGE OF THE AMERICAS. Border Agents have closed the left lane to traffic, in preparation for the convoy’s arrival.

From above, we see MEXICO. Some THIRTY FEDERAL POLICE TRUCKS, SOLDIERS FILLING THE BEDS are waiting for them.

The convoy drives straight through -- the Mexican Police trucks roll forward as our convoy catches up to them.

**THROUGH THE REMAINDER OF SCENE, WE WILL INTERCUT IN AND OUT OF THE VEHICLES**

The city of Juarez is itself a crime. Filthy and crumbling, hookers and criminals fill every possible space of sidewalk. They are as plentiful as the unfortunate masses that are condemned to live and work here.

SIRENS BLARE. POLICE YELL OVER LOUD SPEAKERS AND THROUGH MEGAPHONES FOR VEHICLES TO PULL OVER AND LET THE CONVOY PASS.

SWEAT rolls down Macy’s face. She can feel her heart beating... Loud enough she actually wonders if others hear it too.

At every turn, it seems there are soldiers and police. A large group of police can be seen on a side-street, standing around a car -- a DEAD BODY on the street beside it.

Macy sees a woman in her 20’s SPRINTING down the street, SCREAMING, though there is no one chasing her.

Alejandro taps her on the shoulder, motions her to scoot toward him.

He points to A BRIDGE WHERE THE BODY OF A MAN HANGS, a dozen soldiers looking down at it.

As we look closer, we see he has been decapitated -- his head replaced with that of a pig, crudely sewn to his body with fishing line.

The body is naked from the waist down -- a state police shirt on his torso.

As the convoy races up the street, the bridge and it’s swinging corpse come closer.

They continue past. Into an even worse part of Juarez, if that’s possible. The vehicles come to a stop. POPPING SOUNDS can be heard. Like fireworks.

He cracks his window. The sound floods in. GUNFIRE. Not ten shots, not fifty. Hundreds. It is a battle. Over the radio we hear:

VOICE Everybody hold on. Mexicans are adjusting our route. There’s activity ahead we need to go around.

We sit here, listening to the gunfight as it builds in intensity. We hear a series of explosions.

Both agents in the front seats reposition their rifles. Ready.

The convoy rolls again. Makes a left, drives away from the battle as though they were avoiding road construction. A few blocks and they all snake right. Macy is trying hard not to be terrified.

Suddenly, the convoy picks up speed. Moving 70mph over a road that barely qualifies as two lanes.

They race past a park. A large building can be seen on the right. The Mexican flag flies in front. Numerous Federal Police vehicles in front.

The convoy stops in front and the Delta operators are out of their vehicles, setting a perimeter. The Marshals and Matt emerge and move straight to the building, two Deltas follow.

Macy stays glued to the front door of the building. Waiting. Alejandro shifts in his seat toward Macy.

She shakes her head ‘no’

Matt and the Marshals come out with a man covered in a blanket. He is placed in the backseat.

The federal Police begin turning their vehicles.

Suddenly, the Tahoe lurches forward -- moving between the vehicle with Matt and the Marshals -- acting as a shield. Macy looks out the window at the Federal Police trucks. She notices the agent riding shotgun has his rifle at the ready in the direction of the Federal Police.

She turns to find him pointing his rifle almost at her head. She leans back, and moves her hands toward her ears, ready to cover them.

The Tahoe begins moving and performs a lighting fast three point turn, and just like that we are headed north.

Macy lets out an endless sigh of relief. We are driving very fast now.

Macy looks out the windshield, the hills of El Paso loom in the distance.

Two streets over, as buildings whip by, we see a STATE POLICE VEHICLE even with us.

It disappears as buildings fill our view, then at the next block we see it again. We hear over the radio --

VOICE We have a spotter on the left everyone. Keep your eyes out for a strike vehicle.

The driver speaks into his radio.

VOICE That’s my understanding. We’re trying to confirm...

As we race to the border, the state police vehicle has DISAPPEARED.

We come to the loop, the last exit before being fed into the twelve lanes leading only to the border crossing...

WITH NO WAY OUT.

At the loop, the Mexican Federal Police vehicles peel off, leaving the convoy alone. At the border, US HOMELAND SECURITY OFFICERS can be seen standing with rifles, making a very public show of force.

There is no lane cleared for them, and just like that -- they are trapped in traffic.

VOICE (CONT’D) Everyone stay in this lane. Our agents at the border are going to wave everyone through and get us over as quick as they can.

The agents at the border aren’t even checking passports, just moving cars through in the lane where the convoy is trapped, but there are fifty cars ahead of them...

Alejandro looks out his window and sees, two lanes over:

FOUR MEN in an old Buick LeSabre. They are staring straight ahead. All drenched in sweat.

Alejandro taps Macy, she scoots closer.

She unholsters her pistol.

He takes the radio.

VOICE One lane over right, 5 o’clock. Burgundy Expedition.

Macy grips her pistol.

Then Alejandro spots it.

The flash suppressor of an AK 47 is peeking out in the back seat. A sweaty, young gunman holds the rifle between his legs.

VOICE We must be engaged to engage.

VOICE Stay in your vehicle. You can do what they do. If they get out you can get out.

The cars are beginning to move in the convoy’s lane. Another fifteen seconds and they can leave this hell behind.

VOICE Get ready. They can see our lane clearing. If it’s coming, it’s coming now.

Only a few more cars and the convoy is clear. But that would mean luck is on their side and luck doesn’t live on this side of the border.

The doors to the Expedition swing open. By the time the assassins put a foot to the ground, the Delta operators are out of their cars and halfway to them, rifles raised.

Before Macy can react, she is ALONE in the Tahoe.

Even the driver has exited... she is starting to panic.

She looks at her pistol, grips it tight. And goes nowhere.

The assassins are frozen, guns by their sides. A dozen Americans have weapons trained on them.

The Agent riding shotgun stands in front of the Buick, rifle pointed at the windshield. Other operators are at the flank of the Civic before their doors are even open.

But at the Expedition, men are already out, weapons in their hands.

The delta operators and Alejandro are yelling at the men in Spanish. One retreats to the safety of the back seat, but the others know the consequences of a failed hit and they aren’t in checkmate like those in the other cars...

The assassins, none over twenty years old, yell and cuss and threaten as the operators surround them in a semicircle.

The assassin that exited the drivers seat -- 2 carat diamond earrings and no shirt on his skinny chest -- screams in hateful defiance at the operators surrounding him.

He raises his weapon and ALEJANDRO AND THE OPERATORS FIRE -- He is obliterated -- They continue firing, surgically killing all the Expedition’s crew. Bullets ping through the windshield. Bullets tear the Expedition to shreds. The assassins never fire a shot.

The innocent masses stuck in the crossfire duck out of view in their vehicles. The streets are instantly empty.

The noise of the shooting echoes off the asphalt with the force of thunder.

Macy watches through the back window.

The men watching the other vehicles hold targets in their sights. The rest will take their chances with the boss. Don’t even look in the direction of the Americans -- just stare straight ahead, sweating...

The operators and Alejandro work their way back to the vehicle. Everyone retreats to their cars.

The kid with the AK 47 in the back of the Buick makes a move for his door handle. Alejandro clocks it, puts 10 rounds through the window, killing him and the man beside him before the door is opened.

Macy turns away in shock to find:

A MEXICAN STATE POLICE OFFICER 5 FEET FROM HER WINDOW!!!

He raises an AK 47 to his shoulder -- pointed right at her. Before she can think, her gun is raised and firing through the tinted window.

The sound is deafening. As the man falls out of view, all we can hear is the RINGING IN HER EARS.

Alejandro and the agent riding shotgun jump in and roll their windows down and sit out of them like turrets as the vehicles start up and race to the border.

They pass the guard house without stopping, Border Agents waving them onward through the finish line. More agents point weapons and scream at the Mexican State police officers who have emerged from their offices.

It is absolute madness...

Alejandro and the agent sit back in the vehicles and roll up the windows... They are back in America.

Macy struggles to get her breath. No one speaks. After a long beat...

The convoy is safe. It races past traffic, red sirens lighting the dashboards...

The vehicles pull in and park. Agents and operators exit the vehicles and amble toward the entrance.

Macy gets out, her head spinning.

Matt walks up to her. She holds out a hand, begging him away.

She points at Alejandro.

He lets her vent. Burning the unused adrenaline.

Steve walks up to Matt.

Matt winks and walks in the building, leaving Macy alone in the motor pool.

A door opens and we find GUILLERMO, 45, fat, three day stubble, and very unhappy to be here. His hands are cuffed behind his back. A DEA AGENT holds a bottle of water that Guillermo sucks like an infant.

Matt walks in.

Matt smiles, the agent smiles back.

Matt sits in the only other chair in the room.

The door opens and Alejandro walks in, carrying two five gallon jugs of water. It takes Guillermo a minute, then horror washes over his face.

No expression on Alejandro’s face.

The DEA Agent moves to the door.

He closes the door behind him. The red ‘record’ button on the camera mounted in the corner goes out. We notice a DRAIN IN THE FLOOR.

Alejandro walks toward Guillermo, stands across from him. Places a foot on his chest. Pushes... Hard... Guillermo sways back, like a chopped tree. He moves through frame in slow motion, falling out of frame.

Macy leans against a car. Spots a guy with a cigarette.

He gives her one. Lights it. She draws in, coughs.

She turns and sees a Delta operator. Holding a pair of BINOLULARS.

She follows him. They walk to the back of the motor pool to a stairway that leads to the roof of the building. He goes up. She hesitates.

She takes the bait. Climbs up.

They sit on the edge of the roof, facing Juarez. He begins glassing the area.

He glasses. She smokes, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

He hands her the binoculars.

--THROUGH THE BINOCULARS WE LOOK OVER JUAREZ--

She sees it. Muzzle flashes. Right on the street. Rifle fire glowing white against the muddy gray of Juarez at dusk. Gone as fast as it came. She looks at Delta.

She begins scanning the city. Sirens. Everywhere. She sees another muzzle flash. She looks up.

She scans the city slowly. Sirens. More sirens. The city is lit in a throbbing red and blue.

He bums a drag from her cigarette. They sit in silence and watch the city go to war.

Macy, Matt, and Alejandro walk through the parking lot. Macy is exhausted. Matt’s on his cell phone.

Not what Macy wanted to hear.

Reggie leans against the Tahoe. Not very happy.

Reggie spots Alejandro.

Macy shakes her head, doesn’t have the strength to go into it.

Matt and Alejandro get in the back seat of the Tahoe. We push in on Alejandro’s emotionless face.

She nods and yawns at the same time. Reggie takes her in.

She moves toward the front of the car.

They climb in. Reggie looks over at Macy staring out the window, resting her heavy head on her fist. He looks back at Matt and Alejandro, both already asleep.

The team walks from their parked car toward an irate BOB FISKE, 40’S, walking toward them.

Doesn’t introduce Alejandro and Bob doesn’t ask- Kate notices.

He gives her one, lights her as they walk. The giant, domed warehouse growing closer. The dull murmur of four hundred people talking and sitting and moving and complaining is wafting out like an odor.

Macy tries to suck the entire cigarette in one drag. Reggie leans into her.

Reggie stops. Macy doesn’t. She reaches the door and flicks the smoke on the ground.

The illegals have been separated by sex and criminal record.

Women on the left... The worker bees -- the busboys and landscapers and construction workers -- are in the center, and in the back, lined up against the wall, the felons...

Three dozen HOMELAND SECURITY AGENTS stand over them with M4s.

They head toward the group of felons and the like as the women are moved out to the buses.

Macy looks at him. His kind, sad demeanor seems to settle her. She knows he is offering her something, just doesn’t know why. She turns to the men against the wall. They have their hands behind their backs, zip tied.

She scans their faces. Many have tattoos, shaved heads. A boy, maybe 18, haircut like a pop star from the 90’s. Diamond earrings, stares hard at her.

Alejandro nods.

She studies more faces. The ones that look like American gangsters- they look down, away, no eye contact. But the ones with mustaches no longer in style, hair parted down the middle, the lanky teens with Polo shirts, they stare defiantly. No fear of consequence from American officers. As subtle as the differences are- how they wear their pants, how they lean against the wall... she understands now.

She turns to Alejandro, but he is gone. She turns around and he stands thirty feet back beside Matt, looking over the migrants.

Macy walks back to them.

They walk toward the largest group, the simple migrants. The ones that are filthy, tired. Eager to either be sent back to Mexico or go to work.

Bob walks up.

The Agents begin yelling and marching the smuggler group out. Alejandro turns to Bob.

Bob huddles his agents and begins explaining as Matt and Alejandro walk off.

We see Reggie, observing from the entrance. He’s had enough ‘not knowing’, walks to Macy.

She looks at him.

He starts walking toward them. They head for the open warehouse door.

Macy and Reggie stop in the center of the parking lot. Matt catches up to them.

Reggie stares at Matt, who casually smiles, pacifying the children.

Matt laughs.

He turns.

He just smiles...

Alejandro stands beside them, but looks out over the black desert.

His kind, hollow eyes meet Reggie’s. Alejandro manufactures a smile.

Reggie studies this strange, sad man. Looks at him with something between fear and mistrust. Macy just looks tired and mad. Matt takes them both in.

But Alejandro is already walking back to the warehouse.

Matt turns and walks back.

She moves to the car.

Reggie watches Matt walk back in the warehouse, trying desperately to play catch up. Wondering why no one, his partner included, will tell him anything...

Reggie drives down an empty interstate 19. Up ahead, he spots a TRUCK STOP.

He looks over -- she is sound asleep. He drives past the truck stop, tail lights fading into the desert...

Macy lays in bed watching the blades of her ceiling fan in their endless revolution. She rises -- dressed in pajamas at last -- and heads to the kitchen.

She pours a cup of coffee, heads to her computer. Pulls up the CNN website, scrolls the news, nothing about a shoot-out on the border.

Goes to the El Paso newspaper website. Nothing there either. She googles SHOOT OUT, JUAREZ... is bombarded with images.

Her screen is flooded with photos: women naked, tortured, beaten. Breasts cut off, pinkish flesh exposed.

Bodies of men in ditches, dead in chairs, dead in cars... dead everywhere. But nothing of yesterday. The images invade her. Can’t look anymore...

She digs up a cigarette, goes to her screen door, opens it and steps out, lights her smoke.

She sees Reggie pull up and park. She yells down to him.

Reggie leans against the dining room table, cup of coffee in hand. Macy moves from her bathroom, slacks on and only an old, off white bra. He notices. Doesn’t hide it.

She walks in the room, buttoning the last of her shirt.

Beat.

Beat.

She turns to him. How do you describe it...

He absorbs that.

Reggie and Macy knock on the door. It opens. Matt, dressed for golf, stands there with a slurpee.

They walk into the ‘suite’, the best a motel room can be. The walls are covered with TOPO MAPS of Arizona, ROAD MAPS, and GEOLOGICAL MAPS... Alejandro sits at a table with FOUR MIGRANTS from the warehouse. Worker bees.

Alejandro points to a spot on the map with a chopstick from their take out.

Points somewhere else.

Alejandro looks at Matt.

Alejandro points to another spot, just across the border from Sasabe, Mexico.

All the migrants say ‘No!’ In unison, even laughing at the notion.

He points to a depression on the TOPO MAP.

Reggie’s jaw is on the floor.

Hands him a pen.

Alejandro looks at Matt.

Matt spoons the last of his slurpee. Turns to Macy.

Matt smiles, spooning himself slurpee.

The migrant looks down at a small card in his hand. The others have them as well.

The men get up casually and walk out, sipping their soft drinks. Matt looks at Macy.

He nods.

He lays a hand on her shoulder. The intimacy of the gesture surprises her.

WE ARE LOOKING THROUGH A TELEPHOTO LENS.

We watch a MAN, 20’S, BAGGY JEANS, WHITE T-SHIRT, sitting on the curb, fiddling with an IPhone.

VOICE We taking him when he makes the grab?

Through the lens we see A WOMAN, 50’s, waddling up. The young man approaches her. He’s talking to her. She shakes her head. He discreetly punches her in the kidney.

She reacts, then reaches into her purse. She hands him cash, then kneels down and begins writing something on a piece a paper.

She stands and walks the other way, holding her side. The young man walks in the bank.

PULL BACK and reveal, we are:

Matt, Reggie, Macy, Alejandro, and CORY, 35, SWAT SERGEANT. Two other SWAT officers, and a MAN IN A SUIT.

The young man walks out of the bank and is moving down the street. We are moving now.

We see TWO PHOENIX PD VEHICLES round the corner. The van doors are thrown open and Cory and his guys are on the run. The young man turns but by the time he does, Cory has tackled him.

The man in the suit, Reggie, and Macy get out. Alejandro and Matt stay in the van.

He’s frisking him. Finds a small bag of meth, the cell phone, and the bank receipt.

He hands him the bank receipt and the man disappears inside...

Cory continues digging and finds five thousand in cash on the young man.

Macy takes this all in. A crime she didn’t even know existed. She walks back to the van.

Matt shakes his head ‘no’.

She turns and walks in.

We hold on a PRINTOUT OF ACCOUNT ACTIVITY.

Deposit. Deposit. Deposit. Deposit. Every day. The account balance around two million dollars.

Macy and Reggie are leaning over him.

Macy and Reggie ask themselves the same question.

A WELLS FARGO MANAGER walks over some more paperwork. The man in the suit looks it over.

He shows her a printout.

He points to the loan amount.

-17,453,229.26

Macy walks out of the bank and straight to the van, Reggie right behind.

She looks bewildered and scared. She climbs in next to them.

Heads off.

She turns back to them.

Beat.

She marches back toward the bank.

Macy and Reggie sit across from Jennings and Phil. Bob Fiske is there as well.

Beat.

She does. But that doesn’t mean she likes it...

Macy and Reggie drive in silence. Nowhere in particular... Just driving.

For the first time, we see her laugh.

They drive North, in search of a moment’s escape.

Behind the saloon is a small arena, a corral to it’s right. In the corral, a half dozen bulls. In the arena -- a young cowboy on a bull, hanging on for dear life. Country music blares through speakers from the beer garden just beyond...

About twenty people sit on bleachers watching the bull riders, Macy and Reggie among them, drinking beer from giant cups.

Macy laughs. Reggie takes in the crowd -- lots of young blonde girls in hats and jeans two sizes too small.

The next bull erupts from the chute, sending a cowboy ass over elbow...

Macy and Reggie have infiltrated a line dance. Reggie’s interpretation is mockery, but his gun is visible, so no one’s saying shit...

Macy laughs, spins. Doesn’t know how to line dance... feels good to move anyway. She sways, clicks her heels, and acts like a woman, for just a moment...

Macy and Reggie sit at a long table, many beers in. They are easy together... Would be easy to make a mistake tonight and fuck up a great partnership, but they’ve walked this line many times before.

A blonde thing is smiling at him.

Reggie notices a HANDSOME COWBOY. Tall, broad shoulders...

Ted turns to the sound. Seems surprised to see Reggie. Walks over. He carries what looks like a gym bag.

She smiles a bit. Shy even...

He walks off.

Macy watches him as he orders. The girl beside him, much younger and pretty, is chatting him... He’s chatting back. She retreats into her shell, feeling foolish for thinking it would be that easy to meet someone... She clouds. Reggie notices.

Reggie walks up to Ted and the girl, charms his way between and gabs them both. We see Macy, letting herself be hopeful...

Reggie, the blonde, Ted, and Macy all sit together. Ted sits beside Macy -- the battle lines are drawn for the night -- she is his. He is showing them the cinch that goes around the bull’s belly.

He wraps the nylon belt around her hand once, twice, three times...

Ted and Macy share a charged look. She smiles.

The tension of it, the flirt of it, she looks ten years younger... Alive. They hold each other’s eyes, almost like a dare... He’s captivated by her.

There it is... Macy surrenders with a smile...

They stand like school kids.

We watch them walk off through the club.

We are looking at the sheet metal outer wall of the saloon. Macy’s head comes hard into frame, Ted’s right after. They devour each other.

She tears at the snaps of his shirt, runs her hand along his chest, grabbing a handful of chest hair and pulling.

He tears frantically at her pants. Gets them unbuttoned and slips his hand inside. Her head flies back in ecstacy.

With one hand she attacks his belt and pulls at the zipper of his jeans. She reaches into his jeans. His turn to moan...

Reggie has the cinch and is toying with the blonde girl.

She laughs at his attempt to do the wrap Ted did.

She loses herself in laughter.

Shows her Ted’s hand cuffs.

He laughs, then spots something else. At the bottom of the bag, he sees it --

A computer print out of a photo from the Wells Fargo security camera... A PHOTO OF MACY.

Everything about Reggie changes.

Puts his badge on the table.

And Reggie is gone. The girl starts dialing.

MACY’S back is against the Sheet metal, Ted pressed against her. Bare legs wrapped around him. He thrusts deep inside her.

It is rapid, almost angry. She needs this. Release is coming, she moans freely now, she’s so close--

We see something moving toward them in a blur.

Reggie’s fist slams the side of Ted’s face. It knocks him out of frame, exposing Macy completely naked below the waist, legs spread wide against the wall.

She panics, reaching down to pull up her pants and falls over as Reggie jumps on Ted, beating him senseless.

Ted is helpless, curled into a fetal position, face broken and bleeding.

Sirens can be heard. Reggie has Ted cuffed now and is frisking him. Knife in his boot. Pistol in the other boot.

She leans against the wall, still flushed and breathing heavy, so close to orgasm, now the farthest thing from it.

Reggie kicks him quiet. Macy starts to do something she hasn’t done in a decade. She’s fighting it, but sex brought so much emotion with it. And now -- no release. Try though she may, she starts to cry.

Reggie goes to her and hugs her as CAVE CREEK POLICE VEHICLES pull into the parking lot, sirens blazing.

EVERYONE IS HERE NOW. FBI. All of them. Ted is loaded into a car.

Macy rests against a SQUAD CAR, smoking a cigarette, too exhausted to care that she looks like she just got fucked outside a bar.

Director Jennings walks up, leans against the car beside her.

Jennings stands.

His knowing smile says: our little secret.

She nods in appreciation.

Jennings walks off. Macy pulls a long drag from the cigarette. She looks at it, and must accept the fact that she is once again a smoker...

Reggie walks up to her. He hands her a new pack. They look at each other. Try not to, but can’t help it. They laugh... But when Macy’s laughter risks turning to tears, she stops.

She starts laughing again.

The not knowing scares her.

He accepts it with a nod.

Takes that in.

They lean against the car in silence.

Ted sits in the backseat, face destroyed. The reality of his situation now fully in front of him. Matt sits in the front seat, Alejandro beside him.

As quick as a cat, Alejandro stabs his thumb into Ted’s eye. Ted pitches forward.

We watch from a distance as Matt and Alejandro listen. Matt stands and waves over the Director and other agents. They lean over and listen to Ted spilling.

Ted is then removed and marched toward another vehicle. Alejandro and Matt walk toward Macy.

She laughs at the conviction this lie is given by everyone.

Matt walks off.

Phil waves Reggie over. Macy is alone. She looks left, and Alejandro is beside her.

He looks out over the cactus.

His mind wanders back. He remembers...

He looks at her.

He draws in a deep breath. Swallows the emotion.

He looks off. Can’t even say it ... Won’t say it.

She shivers as she digests his words. Alejandro looks up to the stars. Studies them.

He steps away.

He walks back toward Matt, leaving Macy staring out across the desert.

Silvio sleeps. A shadow crosses his face. He opens an eye. Eliseo stands there holding coffee and a plate of eggs and tortillas.

Silvio sits up. Takes the coffee, drinks. No booze in it. Thinks about sending it back, but the look on Eliseo’s face makes him reconsider. He’ll get drunk soon enough. He takes the plate and feeds.

Eliseo sits on the bed.

The man chews. Thinks. Exaggerates his expressions.

The boy laughs.

The boy shoots off like a rocket. Silvio laughs. As he eats, we see the AK 47 by the bed. A bag of coke and a thousand or so dollars on the night stand.

Macy and Reggie pull in and park next to five US GOVERNMENT SUBURBANS. They get out and walk past them.

They get to the room and knock.

Matt lets them in. He wears desert camo fatigues, as do most of the people in the room. There are computers linked to monitors. One displays footage of MANUEL DIAZ’S HOUSE and OFFICE. Another is footage of the DESERT. But that footage is MOVING.

We look at the footage. Cactus and desert grass in the foreground. In the background, a ravine.

We look at cactus and brush along a ridge. Slowly, caterpillar slow, the brush begins moving. We can just make out an enormous telephoto lens wrapped in camouflage tape.

Matt points to coolers filled with Gatorade and Red Bull.

This guy ...

There is a DOD AGENT wearing headphones and sitting in front of what looks like a sound board linked to a computer.

From the other room, DELTA and one of his team members walk through. Moving toward the TOPO MAP on the wall.

He moves to a diagram of a tunnel.

DELTA looks at Matt.

An operator watching a monitor speaks.

We look at the monitor and see a large amount of brush, and behind it, an old wrecked car entangled in it.

They begin breaking down gear, pulling maps from the walls. Matt turns to an agent.

The agent takes off.

Macy and Reggie’s heads are spinning.

Matt turns to them.

Alejandro steps into the room. Dressed in head to toe black. Face painted as well.

She notices Alejandro’s gear. Ear piece. Silenced HK Mark 23, tactical vest. Night vision goggles. No one else is dressed like him. The operator straps what looks to be a wrist watch on Alejandro’s arm.

At last. She gets it. He smiles.

He walks off.

Reggie shakes his head.

He walks out.

Five suburbans and a large cargo van drive down the desolate highway as the sun begins to set.

Silvio sits in his little courtyard, watching the chickens. He tosses a handful of feed and they scamper after it. He drinks a beer. Three empties beside him. He looks at his watch. It’s time. He gets up.

Three state Police Vehicles. One being loaded full of bricks of marijuana. Silvio stands beside the car, smoking.

Matt sits in the front seat. A Delta operator driving. Macy, Reggie, Alejandro and three Delta operators sit in the back.

Matt is on his cell.

VOICE Um. Hold on... They called him back. He’s on the road now.

VOICE Turning left on Scottsdale. You got about three hours and he’ll be across.

Matt turns back to the Delta operators.

Matt looks at Macy and Reggie.

They don’t share his enthusiasm. They just want this to be over.

Manuel is sweating, even though the AC blasts in his face. On the seat beside him is an overnight bag.

We watch Manuel’s Range Rover get on the interstate.

VOICE He’s on I 10, travelling southeast...

A MEXICAN STATE POLICE VEHICLE ambleS down the road, heading toward the tunnel...

Silvio drives, marijuana bundles fill the backseat. He smokes a cigarette, he slows down, pulls off the pavement.

We watch from a distance as Silvio’s vehicle bounces down a dirt road, disappearing into the desert as the sun hides behind the horizon.

We pull off the highway and stop. A man in a ghillie suit stands up, walks toward them carrying a camera with an 800mm lens. Matt turns toward us.

Macy steps out and sees another vehicle parked. Another half dozen men in full camo. From the back of the Suburban, six duffel bags are opened. Operators reach in and grab weapons, magazines, grenades. Generation 4 night vision goggles are passed to everyone. DELTA walks up to Reggie and Macy.

Doesn’t wait for a reply.

They move out. We watch the world through NIGHT VISION GOGGLES.

We run a bit then kneel down. We are flagged forward. Kneel down. We leap frog this way forever.

Macy looks out over the desert. TWO COYOTES(the animals), are stopped, staring right at us. Macy makes eye contact. They begin trotting off, never breaking eye contact with Macy, as though they are begging her to follow. While she still can...

We come to a rise. Everyone lays down. DELTA whispers to Alejandro.

DELTA turns the other way.

He whispers it down the line.

Reggie’s eyes scream ‘what the fuck’.

We drop into a ravine and follow it. Up ahead we see the brush and the old car that is hood first in the ground, like it was dropped from the sky. The team lines up across from it.

VOICE Bout twenty minutes to the border.

Delta pulls his knife. Alejandro comes up to the front.

Alejandro nods. He and the Delta operators move ahead, silently. Disappear behind the old car. After a moment we follow.

We enter the tunnel. Moving fast.

We pass the body of a SMUGGLER, throat slit. We continue. A shaft banks left, we follow...

Another body lies on the ground, throat slit, though eyes wide open, bleeding out and staring up at us as we pass.

We see the operators ahead. DELTA backtracks to Matt.

The operator moves forward, whispers to his group. They all pull out their 1911 pistols and attach silencers.

DELTA returns his pistol to it’s holster, raises his rifle. His men follow suit.

The operators move into the left chamber, Alejandro moves off to the right. Matt holds Macy and Reggie up. Points to the ceiling: RED PAINT ALL THE WAY AROUND.

She takes the dare.

Matt moves down the left shaft.

Machine gun fire erupts. The fight has begun.

He’ll never leave her. As he moves up the tunnel, Macy looks right, toward the shaft Alejandro took. Can’t resist.

He’s too far ahead to hear. She heads down Alejandro’s path anyway.

GUNFIRE ECHOES FROM EVERYWHERE.

We find SILVIO, and he is panicking, throwing the marijuana from his car to the ground. Another man runs up and helps.

They hear more gunfire. Screw it. Silvio’s not waiting around any longer. He gets in the driver’s seat.

The man opens the passenger door as Silvio starts the squad car. A bullet penetrates the bandit’s face, just under the eye. He drops as if he’s been unplugged.

Silvio ducks down, throwing the car in reverse, but a hand reaches in the window, and turns the car off. Silvio looks up and sees --

Alejandro.

HE pulls Silvio from the car. Spins him around. Pulls the pistol from Silvio’s belt. Tosses it on the ground.

Silvio stares at Alejandro in absolute terror.

Alejandro places his pistol to Silvio’s face.

Alejandro jams his thumb in Silvio’s larynx. Silvio gasps for air. Alejandro grabs his hair, pistol to his head.

Tears roll down Silvio’s cheek.

Alejandro turns and sees Macy, her rifle trained on him.

He looks at her.

The automatic fire from different tunnel shafts rushes in and out like blasts of hot air.

Alejandro raises his pistol and fires six rounds into Macy’s chest.

She collapses to the ground, sucking for air. Alejandro walks over and grabs her rifle. Tosses it in the back of the Police car.

She gasps, clasping at the Kevlar vest that saved her life. She rolls onto her stomach and struggles to stand. Reaches for her pistol. Alejandro slams her face into his knee. Tosses her pistol across the room.

He pulls her to her feet. Points his pistol at her.

Blood pours from her shattered nose. She has lost and she knows it.

She stumbles back, turns around and runs.

Alejandro gets in the back seat of the police car.

The car backs up, spins and drives the tunnel road until we are:

We are in the backseat, looking through the windshield.

VOICE Copy. We have you. Target is east and north of you. Looks like highway 56 to 17 will intercept him if he stays on 17. Will advise. Go east on 56 off highway 2.

Sylvio stares in the rearview mirror at the phantom ducked low behind him.

Reggie looks around, doesn’t see Macy anywhere. Spots Matt among the Delta team.

VOICE Copy. GPS is transmitting. Audio is transmitting. Should intercept in

Matt pats DELTA on the back.

Delta points back toward the approaching Reggie.

Reggie reaches them.

Beat.

Matt sighs.

Delta rolls his eyes. They approach the tunnel entrance when Macy walks out. She spots Matt and punches him for all she’s worth. He deflects it, sweeps her leg and she hits the ground. Hard.

Reggie rushes him.

He is grabbed and flung to the ground by DELTA. He holds Reggie’s face to the ground with his boot. Rifle pointed at him.

Reggie struggles for even a breath much less a response. Matt grabs Macy and pulls her back into the tunnel.

He stands close to her.

She pushes him hard.

He looks at her. Takes a step back.

She walks out of the tunnel toward Reggie. DELTA removes his boot and walks away.

Helicopters can be heard. In the distance, sirens are approaching.

Macy and Reggie walk away from the scene.

They continue to walk, sirens racing toward them.

Far ahead, we see TAIL LIGHTS. Silvio’s labored breathing gives rhythm to the racing vehicle. Alejandro stays low in the back seat.

VOICE Copy. Black Range Rover, 60 meters ahead.

He flips on his siren.

He sees the siren.

He reaches for his pistol, puts it in his lap.

The range Rover pulls over. Us right behind it. Silvio is breathing even heavier, if that’s possible. So many ways this can go wrong...

Silvio grabs the radio handset, flips the switch, and his voice comes through the speaker on the roof of the car.

He sticks the pistol in his waistband. Opens the car door. Steps out.

We watch Manuel through the windshield. He is standing in the road.

Manuel does it. We see the pistol.

Manuel throws his pistol in the dirt.

Headlights blind Manuel, but he can see the car door has opened, and an image is moving toward him. He waits, for the fool who is robbing the wrong mother fucker.

As the image reaches Manuel, something moves from behind it. Fast. An arm reaches around Manuel and two shots are fired from a silenced pistol. Now the pistol is held to the back of Manuel’s head.

Alejandro fires a round into Manuel’s calf. He wails in pain. He fires another round into his right hand as it hits the asphalt. He screams louder.

Alejandro kneels down, and for the first time, Manuel can see his face.

Manuel’s eyes go wide. He nods.

Alejandro opens the back door before letting Manuel get in the front. In an instant, Manuel is in the driver’s seat and Alejandro seated behind. The doors are closed and the Range Rover disappears down the road. We are left with Silvio, gasping, struggling, like a fish tossed thoughtlessly on the beach, as he flops helplessly on the empty road.

We near an isolated estate. We turn off the main road to a private road that leads a mile or so onto Fausto’s hacienda.

As the large house comes into view. VEHICLES can be seen parked in front. We approach a car along the road, a man sitting on the hood.

Manuel rolls his window down.

The rear window rolls down. A pistol comes out. A silenced round is fired into the face of the man. He falls back on the hood.

The car stops. THREE MEN stand in the driveway with automatic rifles. The Range Rover is parked so the right headlight is pointed directly toward them.

Manuel opens the door and we are--

Manuel walks toward the men -- looking for a way out of this.

Alejandro takes his pistol and presses the silenced barrel to the top of manuel’s head, pulling the trigger and driving Manuel into the ground like a nail. As Manuel’s body drops, Alejandro fires on all three men -- hitting them all in the head, killing them instantly.

He walks to the front door, opens it...

A man rounds the corner into the main foyer and without slowing down, Alejandro touches the barrel to his forehead and fires.

We can hear the sound of talking in another room. Alejandro moves to it.

FAUSTO, 50’s, graying hair. Big belly. Sits at the head of the table. JACINTA, 30’s trophy wife, sits beside him gulping wine. They have three CHILDREN, two girls and a boy. A woman in her 60’s cooks in the kitchen.

Alejandro walks into the room, presses his foot against Jacinta’s side, and launches her out of frame, then sits next to Fausto, presses the gun to his shoulder and fires. The children scream. Mama turns, Alejandro points the gun at her.

She comes around and sits as ordered.

Jacinta stands up.

Fausto stares at him.

Points the pistol at him.

He slowly fills a fork, puts it in his mouth. Tells his children to do the same. They chew their meal and cry. Alejandro turns to the old woman.

She rises and hurries the children out of the dining area.

She sits. Alejandro turns to Fausto, notices he has stopped eating. Picks up a fork and stabs it into Fausto’s hand. Fausto screams.

Fausto forces down another bite, rests his trembling hand on the table.

He looks at Fausto. Fausto stops chewing. Processes what was just said.

Fausto looks at Jacinta. Her eyes say, ”Goodbye my brave love”... Never dawns on her what he’s thinking.

She’s stunned. Tears run her heavy make up. She looks to Alejandro. No mercy there. Back to her husband.

He isn’t. It wasn’t a hard decision. She turns to Alejandro. Holds her chin high in defiance.

Alejandro looks at Fausto.

Alejandro looks into Fausto’s uncaring eyes.

Alejandro fires into Fausto’s belly. Touches the barrel to his arm, fires again. Fausto screams. Alejandro presses the barrel to Fausto’s throat, fires again. Fausto falls to the floor, gargling.

Fausto’s terrified eyes stare back at Alejandro as he gasps for air. Drowning in his own blood. There is no specific moment when death comes. He simply fades. Alejandro sits back down.

She stares at him, shaking so profusely you might think she is freezing to death.

Alejandro walks out, leaving Jacinta shivering alone at the dinner table.

A shadow falls over an empty bed. Eliseo stands there... this has never happened before. He walks down the hall to the kitchen. His mother is in the same place, cooking. But the look in her eyes is anger. She knows he is dead. And may God damn him for making her be the one to tell their son.

He stands there. Staring at his mother.

Dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, she sits on the balcony, takes a drag of her cigarette. Looks at it.

She leans back and looks out over Phoenix as the sun sets. She exhales ... looks at the cigarette.

Macy leaps up as if she’s on fire, falls over her chair, comes up with her pistol. He moves so fast there is no time to react.

In an instant, he has the gun and removes the magazine, disassembles the slide, and tosses the pieces on the table. She screams and rushes him. He spins her and pushes her back.

He moves to her and gently touches her face, looking at the gash on her nose. She is frozen in fear.

She breathes heavy, trying to remain calm.

He begins lifting her shirt. She struggles and he grabs her throat. She looks into his eyes and it is a killer looking back.

She surrenders, turns her head to the side. He lifts her shirt above her bare breasts. Six large, red welts...

She nods as her lip quivers. Clinging desperately to her dignity. She has never felt so powerless, and that is his point.

He drops her shirt and steps back. She crosses her arms, feeling very weak.

Alejandro sits across from her.

She doesn’t move.

Beat.

He studies her-- arms crossed, legs close together.

He looks at her. Smiles sadly and leaves.

She waits. Starts to cry, fights it back. Begins frantically reassembling the pistol. Rams the magazine in and racks a round. Comes around the corner. Enters the house. Looks around. Checks every room, panting, shaking. He is gone. She stands there and sobs...

The mother walks with Eliseo, dressed for soccer. Down the empty street. Sirens in the distance.

They round the corner. We follow them to a park. Weeds cut short to look like grass. Little boys dressed in uniforms, parents sitting in lawn chairs. A referee. Just people, desperately trying to enjoy the life they have been given.

Eliseo runs to join his team. Whatever his mother told him, it wasn’t the truth.

The mother sits on the ground, watching the boys. Running. Playing. Being children. The referee blows a whistle. The boys assume their positions on the field. The forwards line up, facing each other. Eliseo is dead center, the team’s star. The referee sets the ball in place...

-- GUNFIRE RIPS THROUGH THE MORNING.

Everyone stops and stares in the direction of the gunfire. It is very still. People frozen like deer in a field -- weighing the risk. No more shooting. The morning is quiet again.

The referee blows the whistle and sets the ball down. The game begins.

Eliseo swipes it and kicks it out of frame, the other boys chasing him...