Actor Point >> Movie Scripts >> Ticker Film Script

Ticker Movie Script

Writer(s) : Paul B. Margolis

Genres : Action, Crime, Thriller

Search IMDb : Ticker


                                   Written by
                                Paul B. Margolis

                                                     Original Draft: 11/10/97

          1   EXT.   METROPOLITAN CITY - DOWNTOWN - LATE NIGHT              1
              Hot summer night. The flesh district - hookers working the
              sidewalks, stopping cars.
              MIKE REILLY, 20s, paces a corner, restless, looking for
              action ... wet hair, three-day beard, trenchcoat, sneakers,
              heat-seeking weary eyes. He flashes a wad of bills in an
              effort to get some attention... no one notices.
              Across the street, BILL RICE, 50's, a ragged transient,
              strolls over.
                      Know what the problem is, kid?   You're too
                      ugly to get propositioned.
                      Look who's talking, old man.
                      C'mon, it's a quiet night.
              Rice starts away.   Reilly pauses, then trudges after him.
          2   EXT.   SIDESTREET - NIGHT                                     2
              Rice and Reilly pull donuts and coffee out of a bag, talk
              with their mouths full as they walk.
                      Next week we work the park.
                      I gotta get back on top.   Get off the sleaze
                      You will, one day at a time.   I'll be old and
                      grey when it happens...
                                                                11/10/97   2.
          They share a grin, pass a BAG LADY who wears a pie-tin crown,
          holding her hand out to a PIMP getting into a Cadillac.
                              BAG LADY
                 A small gift, sir, for the Queen ...
          The Pimp ignores her, screeches off. The Bag Lady pulls out
          a pad, adds his license number to a list, glances up at Rice
          and Reilly.
                              BAG LADY (cont.)
                 I keep a record, see? They don't
                 pay, I don't forget.
          Rice fishes some change out of his pocket.
                 Here you go, your Highness.
                              BAG LADY
                 Thank you, officer.
          She pushes her shopping cart away. Rice and Reilly look at
          each other, crack up, surprised she knew he was a cop.
                 So what'll you do? After they give you the
                 gold watch.
                 Hell, I got a gold watch... it just don't
                 work. Maybe they'll give me a new fishing
                 pole, or something useful.
                 You don't fish.
                 How hard can it be? The grand kids been
                 buggin' me about taking them camping.
                                                                     11/10/97     3.
                     You outta the city... that's a fish out of
                     water. What's with all this family talk
                     lately, anyway?
                     One of these days you're gonna get tired of
                     fighting the shit. When that happens, you'll
                     wish you had family.
                     No thanks.   I got close but it never woulda
              They stop beside a dirty, beat-up Studebaker parked in the
              alley, climb in, Reilly behind the wheel.
          3   INSIDE THE STUDEBAKER                                           3
              Cluttered with debris - clothes, boxes, personal items.
              Reilly jiggles the ignition - the engine coughs and sputters,
              finally turns over.
                     Why don't you just shoot it and put it out of
                     its misery?
                     What are you talking about, it's purring like
                     a kitty.
                     I thought you said what's-her-name's brother
                     was going to fix it.
                     She didn't work out, had to cut her loose.
                     What was it this time?
                     She wanted to cook me breakfast.
                                                                      11/10/97    4.
              The White Van appears up ahead and turns into a seemingly
              deserted building's garage.
              Reilly and Rice exchange a glance as they wait to see lights
              come on in the building. They don't.
              Two flashlight beams criss cross through the windows of the
              building briefly, then disappear. They hear a brief heated
              argument, that is cut short abruptly. Then silence.
                                   REILLY (cont.)
                      C'mon, let's check it out.
                      We're vice, I didn't see no pimps or hookers
                      in that van. But if you're so gung-ho, we'd
                      best call it in for some back-up.
                      Nah, let's just take a look-see.
              Reilly jumps out and heads for the building.   Rice rolls his
              eyes, follows.
          4   INT.   BUILDING - NIGHT                                         4
              A huge, old, battered machine shop. Spooky darkness, dead
              quiet. Moonlight filters in through dirt-smeared windows.
              The door CREAKS as Reilly and Rice slip in, stop, eyes scan.
              Nothing.   Just rows of glistening machines.
              Rice gestures for Reilly to spread out. They head in,
              footsteps echoing, shadows washing over them.
              Still nothing...deeper, deeper... then, glancing over, Reilly
              sees a shape hiding behind a machine. He steps towards it.
              The shape whirls - a beautiful spitfire of a GIRL with
              piercing blue eyes.
              She tries to bolt. Reilly grabs her. She struggles, pulls a
              knife, slashes his arm, drawing blood through his trenchcoat.
                                                                   11/10/97   5.
                 Ow!   Son-of-a-bitch.
          He punches her full force in the face - she collapses,
          knocked out cold. Rice rushes over.
                 You okay?
                 Yeah, just a nick ...
          Then, over Reilly's shoulder, Rice sees a dark SILHOUETTE
          emerging from behind a machine. Rice draws his pistol.
                 Freeze!   Police!
          As Reilly whirls, the Silhouette raises a Mac-11.
          Rice shoves Reilly aside as the Silhouette OPENS FIRE...
          Diving for cover, Reilly flings back his trenchcoat, whips
          out his 9mm and RETURNS FIRE at the Silhouette, blowing the
          shit out of windows behind, sparks showering off machines.
          Silence for an instant, Reilly looks for Rice and finds him
          bleeding to death on the floor nearby - he is completely
          exposed to the line of fire.
          The Silhouette and another FIGURE OPEN FIRE on Reilly.
          SWAN, 40s, crazy-brilliant, manic eyes... and one of his men,
          pale, sweaty, wearing an EARRING, 30s, continue the barrage.
          Swan fires ONE SHOT at a time at Rice, deliberately aiming
          not to kill him, trying to flush Reilly out.
          Rice screams as BULLETS RIP into his legs. Reilly tries to
          reach him but can't, shots forcing him back.
          A dark-eyed man with a BEARD appears in the b.g. and stealths
          towards Reilly from behind.
                                                                   11/10/97   6.
          Reilly' face is in agony as Rice moans in pain. He glances
          urgently from the gunmen to the exit behind them, to The Girl
          lying next to him -- what's keeping them there? Obviously
          The Girl.
          She stirs. Desperate, Reilly grabs her by the hair, shoves
          his 9mm to her head. Using her as a shield, he drags her in
          front of Rice to protect him.
                        (to gunmen)
                 Drop it!
          Swan's eyes flare. He steps out into the open, gun aimed at
          Rice, eyes locked murderously on Reilly.
                 Let her go.
          Reilly cocks his hammer, fingers trembling.   The Girl
          stiffens, terrified.
          Beard emerges behind Reilly. Deadly silent, he raises an
          automatic, trying to get a clear shot between machines...
                              SWAN (cont.)
                 No, the girl!
          Reilly whirls, sees Beard, shrinks back to stay covered.
                        (to Swan)
                 We gotta get outta here!
                        (to Swan)
                 Tell them to drop it - now!
          A deadly stalemate.   Faraway SIRENS WAIL.
                                                                  11/10/97   7.
                 You have no idea how sorry you're going to be.
                        (to The Girl)
                 Don't worry.
          Beard smolders, Earring sweats. Keeping their guns up, the
          three men grab tool bags, work their way to the alley door
          and slip out.
          The moment they're gone, Reilly quickly handcuffs The Girl to
          a machine, kneels, cradles Rice.
                 Don't talk.
                 Take your time... one day at a time, kid...
          Rice takes Reilly's hand and pats it on his wristwatch.
                              RICE (cont.)
                 It's all I got... it's yours.
                 It don't work-
                 Ain't that a shit--
          Rice's eyes go blank, he exhales his last breath.
          Reilly winces, eyes welling up. His gaze moves at the Girl.
          The Girl stares uncomfortably, a blink of sympathy stealing
          past her hard exterior ...
                                                                      11/10/97    8.
          5   INT.   POLICE HEADQUARTERS - MORNING                            5
              Looking numb, out of place, Rice's blood still on his
              trenchcoat, Reilly walks in, weaves through a chaos of
              ringing phones, overworked cops, suspects being booked.
              Cops look up, whisper about him.
              Turning a corner, Reilly bumps into a bulldog of a cop,
              HARRY, hustling The Girl out of a booking room. She's got a
              shiner where Reilly hit her.
              The Girl and Reilly make eye contact, intimate somehow, a
              flash of vulnerability and fear in The Girl's face...
                      Hey, Reilly, Captain's looking
                      for you.
              Reilly snaps out of it, continues on.    Reilly nods as Harry
              hustles the girl away.
          6   INT.   CAPTAIN'S OFFICE - DAY                                   6
              Behind his desk, a work-weary captain, WINTERS, 50s, sucks
              coffee as he grills ARTIE PLUCHINSKY, 40s, a slick suit-and-
              tie homicide detective.
                      Nothing so far.
                      What about the ballistics report?
                      Lab's backed up, we're still waiting
                      for it.
              Reilly walks in.
                                                                   11/10/97   9.
                 Reilly, what the hell happened out there?   Why
                 didn't you call for back-up?
                        (at a loss, sad)
                 Sir, I--
          Reilly looks at his watch (we notice he's now wearing Rice's
          watch). He taps it, listens to see if it's ticking.
                              WINTERS (cont�d)
                 Dammit, Rice was a good man,
                 I want to work this.
                 You're vice, not homicide. Besides, you don't
                 have the experience and you're too personally
                 But sir--
                 You know the rules. You're off the street
                 `til I.A.D. clears the investigation. Now go
                 home and clean yourself up, get some rest...
          Harry barges in, dumps a bag of personal effects on the desk.
                 She won't talk. Look at this shit, no I.D.,
          Reilly picks up a twisted plastic-wire bracelet.
                                                                   11/10/97       10.
                      What's that?
                      Bracelet she was wearing.
                      Looks like the stuff my dad used to use to
                      blow up tree stumps back in Scranton.
                      Maybe she knows your old man.
              Reilly sears into Pluchinsky.
                      Take it down to the Bomb Squad, Artie-
                      I'll do it.
              Winters eyes him for a beat, relents...
                      Okay, kid.    Run this down to the Cave.
              Reilly spins and exits quickly.
          7   INT.   POLICE STATION - BASEMENT - DAY                          7
              Emerging from a dingy back staircase, Reilly enters a hallway
              and moves to a door a door marked "BOMB SQUAD."
          8   INT.   POLICE STATION - "THE CAVE" - DAY                        8
              Reilly enters into another world - a dungeon cluttered with
              bomb paraphernalia, defusing equipment, a dog house, ping-
              pong table, Sheryl Crow pin-up, Chicago Bears posters, Yassir
              Arafat dartboard, a photo-shrine to dead Bomb Squaders.
              A plain, fresh-faced assistant, BEV, 30s, looks up from her
              computer station.
                                                                      11/10/97       11.
                       May I help you?
                       I'm looking for the Bomb Squad.
                       They're not here.
                       Where are they?
                       And you are...?
                       Officer Reilly, vice.
                       There out on a call, perhaps I can help you-
                       2600 block of Lakefront.   A limousine.   But, I-
               Reilly sprints out.   Bev tries to finish but he's gone.
          9    EXT.   CITY STREETS - DAY                                         9
               The Studebaker coughs and smokes in and out of traffic.
          10   EXT.   LAKEFRONT STREET - DAY                                  10
               A young, uniformed police OFFICER stops Reilly in front of a
               cordoned-off section of the street.
                                                               11/10/97   12.
                        (flashes badge)
                 Bomb Squad.
          The Officer nods and moves the barricade out of the way,
          Reilly hits the gas, rumbles through.
          The Studebaker swings past a fire truck, an ambulance, and
          two squads cars.
          Two OFFICERS stand near a building with a worried BUSINESSMAN
          and his CHAUFFEUR.
          Reilly parks 50 yards from a limo stopped in the middle of
          the street. A Bomb Squad van and sleek black Harley Davidson
          parked beyond it.
          Reilly hops out, heads cautiously for the limo
          POOCH, 50s, a barrel-chested ex-football player is on his
          hands and knees looking under the limo. Red rubber ball in
          hand, Hawaiian shirt half-tucked in, he leads around an
          equally scruffy Labrador Retriever, SCHNOZ.
                 Smell anything, Schnoz?    Me, neither.
          T.J., 20s, a country boy inspects the open trunk.
          GLASS, 40s, clean-cut, straight-laced, easy-going smile,
          brilliant leader of the team, steps lightly around the open
          driver's door.
                              POOCH (cont�d) (cont.)
                 Schnoz, come here, boy.
                 Shhh, I hear something....
          Reilly stands off 25 feet.    Glass notices him.
                 Who the heck're you?
                                                                  11/10/97   13.
                 You the Bomb Squad?
                 No, we're terrorists, stay back or we'll blow.
                 We're a bit busy at the moment, I'll give you
                 a statement in a few minutes if we're still
                        (flashes badge)
                 Reilly, Vice. I-
          Glass and Pooch step lightly to the rear of the limo where
          T.J. has discovered a shoebox wedged next to the spare tire.
          T.J. leans down, puts his ear to it, nods.
                              T.J. (cont.)
          Pooch lifts up Schnoz and holds him over the trunk.    Schnoz
          sniffs the shoebox, whines.
                 Schnoz says it's loaded.    Good boy,
          Pooch lowers Schnoz back to the ground throws him the red
          ball, and trots back to the van, climbs up inside and sits,
                 Alright boys, look close.   Let's assess.
          Glass, Pooch and T.J. take a beat just to look at the
          shoebox. Then, Glass nods for Reilly to move away.
                                                                      11/10/97        14.
               Reilly takes a few steps back, watching as the team works
               together - Glass in charge - a psychic connection between
               them as they pass tools back and forth like surgeons.
                      Whadaya think, "boy" or "girl"?
               Glass puts on magnifying spectacles -- precise, organized, a
               detail freak as he uses a wooden probe to test the box for
               wires, sensors.
               As the others watch, Glass rubs his fingertips
               ritualistically and carefully eases the top off the box.
               He reaches in...   Grabs something...   Slowly pulls it out ...
               It's a Mickey Mouse alarm clock doll, a clump of unlit
               firecrackers taped between Mickey's legs.
               The Bomb Squaders whoop and howl - all except Pooch who pulls
               out a pack of Tums, shoves half of it in his mouth.
                      It's a "girl" !
               They all crack up, hysterical.   Reilly stares in disbelief --
               these guys are nuts!
          11   MOMENTS LATER - AT THE BOMB SQUAD VAN                             11
               In the b.g., the Officers finish getting a statement from the
               Businessman as the still-worried Chauffeur inspects the limo.
               T.J. and Pooch load their equipment into the van as Glass
               fills out paperwork.
                      That guy's wife must be pretty pissed off to
                      play a trick like that.
                                                                 11/10/97   15.
                 No shit.   I better send Meg flowers just in
          T.J. and Pooch share a laugh as Reilly approaches...
                 Who's in charge here?
          Pooch points to Schnoz.
                 He is!
                 Look, it's important.
                 Make an appointment.
                 It's about this.
          Reilly holds up the bracelet.    Glass takes it, frowns.
                 Where did you get this?
                 Off a girl's wrist.    A suspect...
                 P.E.T.N ...
                 High-grade det cord. This girl, either she's
                 got strange taste in jewelry or she's into
                 serious demolition.
                                                               11/10/97   16.
                 What do you mean?
          Glass whips out a blasting cap from his utility belt, cuts
          off a piece of the bracelet, plugs it in.
                 Fire in the hole!
          Glass tosses it into a sewer drain. A beat, then a small
          EXPLOSION, smoke billows out of the gutter drain. The nearby
          Officers jump, alarmed. The Bomb Squad guys laugh. Glass
          waves to the Officers.
                 Sorry about that.
                        (to Reilly)
                 That's an inch of the stuff, imagine
                 what the whole thing'd do.
          He grabs back the bracelet, turns to leave.
                 Hey wait a minute-
          Reilly jogs back to his Studebaker, climbs in and roars off
          in a cloud of dirty smoke.
                 Vice... Jesus.
                 That'd be some explosive pussy he's got his
                 hands on.
          Pooch and T.J. share a laugh as Glass shakes his head, climbs
          on his Harley. The others pile into the van.
          Glass kicks-starts his hog and rumbles away, van following.
                                                                       11/10/97       17.
          12   INT.   BAR - DAY                                                  12
               Thin crowd of day-time drinkers. Earring walks in, moves to
               a booth where Swan and Beard are eating. Earring pulls out a
               Gallois (French) cigarette, lights up from a book of matches.
                       They're holding her downtown.
                       What about the cop?
               Earring shrugs.
                       If you'd let me waste him.
                       What if she talks?
                       She won't.
                       I say we split town. Come back to this job
                       when things cool. We've got other contracts -
                       Denver, Seattle...
               Swan slams his fist down, spilling food.     No one in bar even
               looks up from their drink.
                       I want her back and we do the job.
                       I thought we agreed, the personal can't
                       interfere with the professional.
                       Besides, we're on a schedule and the cops
                       won't let her go.
                                                                     11/10/97        18.
                       Unless we make them.
               Earring stares uneasily. Swan and Beard look up, freeze.     A
               pair of PATROL COPS are heading directly towards them.
               Earring reaches under his jacket...   Swan grabs Earring's
               arm, calming him.
               The Cops keep coming, then at the last moment, they veer left
               and slide into a booth.
               Swan nods, they get up and casually slip outside.
          13   INT.   POLICE STATION - SQUAD ROOM - DAY                         13
               Reilly hurries in, interrupts Winters and Pluchinsky talking
               over Pluchinsky's desk.
               An OFFICER shouts from across the room, holding up a phone.
                       Captain, line one!
                              (to Reilly)
                       I thought I told you--
                       He says it's important, something
                       about the Rice shooting.
               Winters snatches up the nearest phone.
                                                                 11/10/97   19.
          He listens, facial expression changing, getting tight.
                              WINTERS (cont.)
          He punches an intercom button - the whole room stops, looks
          up, as Swan's voice comes over the squawk box.
                              SWAN'S VOICE
                 I said release the girl or alot of
                 people are going to die.
          Winters signals frantically for the call to be traced -- cops
          spring into action.
                              SWAN'S VOICE (cont�d) (cont.)
                 It's exactly two o'clock. If she's not
                 released in one hour, people die.
                 Wait, what do you mean--?
          Click, the line goes dead.    Winters slams down the phone - no
          chance of a trace.
                              WINTERS (cont.)
                 What the hell was that?
                 A ticking bomb...
                        (holds up bracelet)
                 It's detonation cord, for a bomb.
                                                                       11/10/97     20.
                       It's a bluff. The guy's full of
                       We can't take the chance. Ring down to the
                       Bomb Squad. I want them on alert.
                       I'll do it.
                       Goddamit, Reilly--
                       Look, I saw these guys, I can i.d. them.
                       I know you're anxious to get back but... just
                       stay out of homicide's way or I'll have you
                       classifying fingerprints, understand?
                       Yes, sir.
               Reilly takes off, Pluchinsky glares.
          14   INT.   THE CAVE - DAY                                           14
               T.J. is hunched over a twisted mess of wires, untangling
               them.   Pooch taste-tests dog biscuits for Schnoz, then feeds
               them to him, as he talks to his wife on the phone.
               Glass is dissecting the Mickey Mouse clock.
                       No, honey, I'm fine. Yeah, well, you're
                       welcome. You deserve flowers more often.
               Bev glances longingly at T.J. as she gives Glass a neck rub.
                       Bev, you're the greatest...
                                                                  11/10/97   21.
                 Hey, I'm next.
          T.J. winks as Bev turns away, hard to get.
          Reilly bursts in.
                 Hey, that's the guy-
                 We just got a bomb threat upstairs.
          This gets everyone's attention.
                              REILLY (cont.)
                 A cop was killed last night interrupting a
                 robbery. One of the gang was grabbed, a girl.
                 The one I told you about with the detonation
                 cord. Well, her friends just called in,
                 they're threatening to waste people unless
                 she's released in the next hour.
                 Alright, let's check it out.
                 We can start in the area where the robbery
                 Vice cop on a homicide?
                 Captain assigned me to assist you.
                 Assist?   What the hell you know about tickers
                 Easy, guys.
                        (to Reilly)
                                                                 11/10/97   22.
                              GLASS (cont.)
                 Look, nothing personal, but you can't just
                 waltz in here and expect to join the team.
                 What're you talking about?
                 When you need us, you love us, when you don't,
                 we're shunned by the rest of the department.
                 We've got one hour.     Are you coming
                 or not?
          The Squad just stands there.
                              REILLY (cont.)
                 Okay, fuck you.
          Reilly walks out.   The guys look at each other.   Glass frowns
          at the bracelet.
                 Those vice cops, around all that pussy, so
                 pent up.
          Bev smirks at T.J.'s language, he lowers his eyes.
                        (to Glass)
                 What do you think?
                 Call upstairs, see what you can find out.
                        (re: bracelet)
                 T.J., run a trace on this, see if
                 you can pin down where it came from. Whoever
                 these people are, let's hope they're all talk.
                                                                    11/10/97       23.
          15   EXT.   ALLEY - DAY                                             15
               Reilly's Studebaker is parked next to the machine shop
          16   INT.   BUILDING - MACHINE SHOP - DAY                           16
               Reilly enters and slowly re-walks his steps from the shoot-
               out, pausing over the chalk outline of Rice's body.
               Two FORENSICS OFFICERS silently comb over the crime scene.
               Reilly pauses, sadness overwhelming him. One of the Officers
               nods at him, he has to turn away as the emotions come.
          17   INT.   SUNCREST MOTEL - ROOM - DAY                             17
               Sophisticated detonation equipment and weapons cover the
               beds. Beard scowls, Earring sweats as Swan puts the
               finishing touches on a computerized briefcase bomb.
                       What time is it?
                       Twenty after.
                       Swan, it's no use. Look, we can
                       still make Houston--
                       Shut up!
               He sets a timer, closes the briefcase, smiles.
          18   EXT.   SUNCREST MOTEL - DAY                                    18
               Sleazy area. Briefcase in hand, Earring slips out and blends
               into pedestrian traffic.
                                                                    11/10/97        24.
          19   EXT.   BUSY STREET - DAY                                        19
               Earring walks on, just a man with a briefcase.
          20   EXT.   ANOTHER STREET - DAY                                     20
               Earring slows and passes a bus stop where a group of giggly
               TEENAGE GIRLS are waiting.
               He notices a raven-haired KNOCKOUT going into the pub up
               ahead. He grins and follows her in.
          21   INT.   PUB - DAY                                                21
               A trendy Irish Pub, a sparse lunch crowd. Earring enters,
               spots the Knockout ordering a drink at the bar, slides onto a
               stool next to her, and deposits the briefcase on the floor.
                       Hey, beautiful, can I buy you some bangers and
                       mash? Pint of Guiness?
               She gives him a once-over, turns up her nose, nods a `thanks'
               to the Bartender delivering her white wine. Earring's smile
               doesn't change.
                                    EARRING (cont.)
                       Last chance. You know, even the smallest
                       choices in life could change everything.
                       Fuck off, pal.
               Earring grins and shrugs an `oh well'. He slides off the
               stool, steps back, and exits... leaving the briefcase behind.
               EXT.   BAR - DAY
               Earring walks out and strolls off. He checks his watch,
               picks up the pace. He disappears around a corner.
               Cars pass.   People stroll by.   Nothing happens.
                                                                          11/10/97    25.
               An ordinary scene on an ordinary day.     The silence is
               Suddenly - the bar EXPLODES. A FIREBALL BURSTS OUT the front
               window, showering the street with wood and BROKEN GLASS.
          22   EXT.   BAR - DAY - LATER                                          22
               Chaotic aftermath of the bombing... sirens, flashing red
               lights. Police hold back onlookers, Firemen clean up,
               Paramedics carry corpses and moaning Victims out of the
               charred, smoking ruins, into waiting ambulances.
               A black-and-white tears up. Capt. Winters leaps out, pushes
               through to a dirt-covered FIRE CHIEF.
                                    FIRE CHIEF
                       Eight dead, so far.
               Winters looks grim.
          23   AT THE BARRICADE                                                  23
               Reilly SCREECHES up in his Studebaker, jumps out, pushes
               through, flashes his badge, enters the police zone.
               He stops as he sees a bloody FEMALE VICTIM being loaded into
               an ambulance. Suddenly a voice snaps him out of it.
                       What're you doing here?
               Reilly faces him.
                                    PLUCHINSKY (cont.)
                       You're offsides. Beat it.
               Reilly ignores them, starts towards the ruins.    Pluchinsky
               shoves him back.
                                    PLUCHINSKY (cont.)
                       I said get the fuck outta here.
                                                                  11/10/97   26.
                 You touch me again and--
                 And what, you'll shoot me? Hey, don't mistake
                 me for one of your partners, I'd like to make
                 retirement in one piece.
          Pluchinsky starts to laugh as Reilly pops him once hard in
          the face. Pluchinsky staggers backwards, grasping his
          bleeding nose. Reilly is ready for more as Pluchinsky starts
          at him. They exchange a few body shots before several cops
          swarm in and pull them apart.
          Winters hustles over.
                 What the hell's going on?
                 Son-of-a-bitch... my nose...   This fuck-up is
                 interfering with-
                 Reilly, what're you doing here?
                 I thought I told you--
                              GLASS (O.C.)
                 He's with us.
          They all turn.
          Glass and T.J. stand there, soot-smeared, wearing utility
                              GLASS (cont.)
                 We asked him to come.
                                                                11/10/97   27.
                 Yeah, he's helping us work up a profile on
                 this thing.
                 Hope you don't mind, Captain, might help us
                 catch these guys that much sooner.
                        (to Reilly)
          Reilly looks at the Captain awkwardly.
                 Go ahead, kid.
          Reilly marches after Glass and T.J., leaving Pluchinsky
          fuming, holding closed his bloody nose.
                 I'm filing charges against that mother-
                 Can it, Pluchinsky. And shove some cotton up
                 your nose.
          Reilly follows Glass and T.J., bewildered.
                 What was-?   Why...?
                 That cop who bought it... you didn't
                 tell us he was your partner.
                 We've lost brothers too, we know
                 what that's like.
                                                                     11/10/97      28.
                       Let's get something straight. We're doing you
                       a favor. You're not exactly a guy we want
                       around explosives.
                       This isn't bumper cars, it's brain surgery.
                       You wanna work with us, you do it our way,
                       Now wait just a fucking-
                       Be cool around my men, they don't trust
                       strangers. And try not to swear so much, it's
               Reilly glares, tongue-tied, as they walk past the Bomb Squad
               van and Glass' Harley, enter the wreckage.
          24   INT.   PUB - DAY                                               24
               Smoky hell. Two Firemen drag out a fire hose. Glass, T.J.
               and Reilly approach a taped-off area where Pooch is on his
               hands and knees, wet and dirty as he searchs for clues.
               Schnoz sits nearby, red ball in his mouth.
                       By the way, I'm Glass.   This is T.J., and
                       Mike Reilly.
                              (offering dirty hand)
               Reilly avoids the hand.
                                                               11/10/97   29.
                 That there's Schnoz, mascot and ace bomb
                 sniffer. Say hi, Schnozzie.
          Schnoz ignores them, sniffing a charred beam in a corner.
          T.J. points out burn patterns to Glass.
                 Flame racer, partial P.C.L. See this wave
                 pattern? Definitely self-contained.
          Pooch sniffs dirt, tastes it.
                 Nitro, dash of Semtrex, vegetable
                 oil ...
                 What kind of bomb was it?
                 We don't use the b-word.      Bad luck.
                 So you're the "Device Squad"... and you defuse
                 Treat.    We treat devices.
                 Anything else I should know?
                 Don't push it, slick.
                                                                11/10/97   30.
          Schnoz whines and paws at something under the beam.   They
          scramble over.
                 Pooch, can you move it?
                 I don't know...
          Pooch positions himself like a weight-lifter preparing to
          dead-lift. He growls as he strains to lift the beam out of
          the way. Glass and T.J. jump in and go to work with
          toothbrushes and tweezers.
          As Reilly watches, fascinated, they uncover a scorched
          fragment of a briefcase handle.
                 Yes, baby, yes ...
          Pooch throws Schnoz the red ball.
                 Good boy, Schnoz. Daddy loves you.
                 Scorch marks... looks like they used
                 silly putty.
          Reilly looks to Glass for an explanation.
                 C4, plastic explosive.
                 Helluva fuck factor.
          Reilly again looks for an explanation.
                              T.J. (cont.)
                 Don't worry, you'll pick it
                                                                      11/10/97    31.
                       Hey, check this out?
               Something glitters in the ashes. Pooch picks it up with
               tweezers. A tiny chip. The guys stare at it, puzzled.
                       Lemme see that.
               Glass takes it, puts on his magnifying spectacles, holds it
               up to the light, frowns.
                                    GLASS (cont.)
                       Computer device?
                       Unlikely. Probably, cash register or
               Pooch and T.J. go back to searching.
                                    GLASS (cont.)
                       What can you tell us about the girl with the
                       exploding jewelry?
               Glass turns to see Reilly on his way out.
                       I'll get back to you.
          25   INT.   POLICE HEADQUARTERS - DAY                              25
               Phones are ringing off the hook. Reilly bursts in, notices
               Winters directing an army of cops setting up sophisticated
               tracing equipment.
                       Let's go, we gotta jump on him the second he
                       calls again.
                                                                11/10/97   32.
          Reilly discreetly crosses the room but is intercepted by
                 You were lucky today, vice boy. Captain said
                 to leave it alone, but just remember, I'm
                 watching you.
                 I'm sorry, detective, but you're just not my
          Pluchinsky's face turns red with rage as...
          An OFFICER holds up a phone urgently.
                 Captain, it's him!
          The room scrambles into action as Winters grabs the phone.
          Swan's voice crackles over the squawk box.
                 Winters here.
                              SWAN'S VOICE
                 Don't make me send another.
                 Look, we're prepared to talk, what
                 do you want--?
          Click, dial tone.
                               WINTERS (cont.)
                 Hello?   Hello?
          Winters slams down the receiver. Cops pull off their tracing
          headphones, glance at each other uneasily.
                              WINTERS (cont.)
                 Section commanders, in my office, now.
                                                                     11/10/97      33.
               As the room erupts, Reilly turns to the BOOKING OFFICER.
                       Where's the girl? The one I brought in.
                                    BOOKING OFFICER
                       Upstairs, interrogation.
               Reilly takes off.
               Wearing headphones connected to a tape recorder, a BORED COP
               flips wearily through a comic book in front of a one-way
               mirror. Through it can be seen a bare interrogation room
               where The Girl sits stubbornly at a table across from Harry.
               Stubbing a butt into an overflowing ashtray, Harry rubs the
               back of his neck, gets up and goes through a door, into the
               viewing booth. The Bored Cop looks up, shuts off the tape
                                   BORED COP
                       Three hours. She's tough.
                       Tough? Tough is "Fuck you, where's
                       my lawyer?". This chick doesn't
                       say boo.
               The outer door opens, Reilly walks in.
                       Any luck?
                       Bupkiss.    Sorry about Rice.
               Reilly nods, accepts the condolence.
                       Captain said I could give it a crack.
                                                                      11/10/97      34.
                       She ain't no hooker.   This is a murder
                       She was my collar. Maybe I'll get lucky.
                       But, if you got a problem with that, talk to
                       the Captain.
                       I'll be in the can.
               Harry exits. The Bored Cop eyes Reilly suspiciously as
               Reilly crosses to the other door, yanks it open.
          27   INT.   INTERROGATION ROOM                                       27
               As Reilly enters, The Girl stiffens at the sight of him.
                       You remember me.
               Reilly shuts the door, she doesn't respond. The Girl catches
               a glimpse of his 9mm under his trenchcoat, she's unfazed. He
               paces, circling her.
                                    REILLY (cont.)
                       You know, your boyfriend just killed a ten
                       year old at a bus stop, blew her head clean
               The Girl puts up a good front but we can see she's listening.
                                    REILLY (cont.)
                       You're scared. You're just caught in the
                       middle. But, we've got a guy out there
                       wasting people just to get you back. Why? It
                       can't be because of your looks. So, I'll be
                       honest with you -
               Reilly goes to the table, flicks off the mic.
                                                                     11/10/97       35.
          28   INT.   VIEWING BOOTH                                            28
               The Bored Cop doesn't notice, he's engrossed in his comic.
          29   INT.   INTERROGATION ROOM                                       29
               Reilly sits, the Girl eyes him like a trapped prey. They're
               enemies, yet there's a strange chemistry between them.
                       Let me be very clear about this. The police
                       won't let you go. When your boyfriend
                       realizes this, I have a feeling a lot of
                       innocent people are going to die. Kids,
                       families. I know you don't want that to
               She stares, eyes dark, barely registering any emotion at all.
               A flicker of fear, indecision. Her lips part, fighting it,
               then she looks away, letting the fear win. Reilly flushes
               with anger, frustration.
          30   INT.   THE CAVE - DAY                                           30
               Glass squints through a microscope. Pooch sniffs and fumbles
               dirt samples. T.J. rocks to a Walkman as he inspects the
               charred briefcase handle fragment. Bev is at her computer
               searching luggage websites on the Net.
               Reilly comes in, still frustrated.
                       We missed you, where'd you go?
               Before Reilly can answer, T.J. rips off his headphones.
                       Fuckin A, I think I got two partial
                       prints here!
                       Awright!   How bout you, Glass, how's that chip
                                                                11/10/97   36.
          They all look over.   Glass stares back darkly.
                 Glass, what is it?
                 I was wrong... this didn't come from
                 any cash register.
                 Whadaya mean?
                 It's from an IRA.
                 Oh shit...
                 A what?
                 IRA - instant retirement account.
                 I.R.A. device. Deadliest class of tickers in
                 existence. Computerized, multiple sensors,
                 booby traps, the works. First showed up in a
                 series of I.R.A. bombings in London couple
                 years ago. One of their boys tripped it on
                 himself and they went back to a less
                 complicated timers. The Girl, is she Irish?
                 She's not talking. But, she could be. So,
                 obviously, you've seen one of these devices
                 Only once, at Redstone.
                                                                11/10/97   37.
                 That's one more time than any of
                 the rest of us have seen it.
                 Shit.   We're fucked.
                 Relax, Pooch, it's just a ticker,
                 it's not personal.
                 Let's face it, we all knew it would happen
                 sooner or later. The guy who can build a
                 mousetrap that's better than we are ...
                 Stop it...
                        (points to Reilly)
                 And what's he doing to help?
                 Shut up, T.J.!
                 Be nice Pooch!
          They all explode into a SHOUTING MATCH (except Glass who is
          in his own world inspecting the microchip an inch from his
          eyes). A moments mayhem until-
                 All of you, shut the fuck up!
          They all go silent, stare at Reilly (except Glass).
                              REILLY (cont.)
                 No wonder the rest of the department doesn't
                 want to work with you. You're nothing but a
                 bunch of... punks.
                                                                           11/10/97    38.
               Reilly walks out.
          31   EXT.   POLICE PARKING LOT - AFTERNOON                              31
               Reilly goes to his Studebaker, climbs in.
          32   INT.   STUDEBAKER                                                  32
               As he starts it up, the passenger door rips open.        Glass
               jumps in, slams the door, furious.
                       Nice performance back there. Where'd you
                       learn that, Mike Ditka Sensitivity Seminar?
                       Hey, look--
                       No you look, mister! First, you don't go
                       calling my men names. It's bad for morale.
                       Second, us "punks" happen to know a heck of
                       alot more about police work than any vice cop
                       ever did.
                       Oh yeah?     Prove it.
               Glass glares, a challenge.         Glaring back, Reilly guns the
               engine, screeches away.
          33   EXT.   ALLEY - AFTERNOON                                           33
               The Studebaker rumbles up to the machine shop, parks in the
               same haunting spot as the night before.
               Glass and Reilly climb out of the car, flashlights in hand.
               Reilly glances around, bad memories stirring up.
                                                                      11/10/97     39.
                       The place has already be combed. Forensics
                       pulled over a hundred sets of prints inside.
                       Then let's go see what they missed.
               Pulling out a tool kit, Glass quickly picks the door lock,
               yanks open the door, ducks inside. Reilly follows.
          34   INT.   MACHINE SHOP - AFTERNOON                                34
               Nearly pitch dark inside, shafts of late afternoon sunlight
               glistens on the battered machines. Shadows wash over Reilly
               and Glass as they retrace the path Reilly and Rice took the
               night before, Glass searching intensely, Reilly getting more
               and more uncomfortable.
                       So what were they doing here?
                       I don't know. You tell me?
                       An abandoned machine shop... nice place to
                       build devices. Low rent, too. But, you and
                       Rice ruined their perfect hideout.
                       You mentioned something called Redstone.
                       Redstone's the army training center in Alabama
                       where they send the cream of the crop to learn
                       about tickers.
                       Cream of the crop, huh?   You?
                                                                 11/10/97   40.
                 Top of my class at West Point, thank you very
                 much. Then off to Redstone. First half of
                 the course we learned how to build devices...
                 second half, we'd take them apart. Everything
                 from firecrackers to hydrogen bombs.
                 Sounds like terrorist heaven.
                 There were a few guys in my class with names
                 like John Smith, Bill Jones. I'd see them up
                 ahead in the hall, call their name, but they
                 wouldn't turn around. C.I.A. Funny thing,
                 they'd always disappear after the first half
                 of the course.
                 Just how easy is it to build a... device?
                 With a little training, you could go into a
                 house and just from stuff in the bathroom and
                 kitchen make something that'd finish off that
                 alleged car of yours. Heck, didn't you ever
                 watch MacGyver?
          Reilly looks at Glass strangely until he realizes they've
          stopped where Rice died.
                              GLASS (cont.)
                 So this is where it happened.
          Reilly fights the memory... eyes well up, his hand trembles
          ever so slightly as he points out...
                 Girl was here. The guy in charge was over
                 there with one of his men, the other one was
                 back there.
                                                               11/10/97   41.
          Glass gets down on his hands and knees, scans the floor.
          Reilly talks to distract himself.
                              REILLY (cont.)
                 Bombers, what kettle of fish are
                 Typical profile, usually losers, nobodies
                 that're afraid to confront their victims.
                 They like scaring people. That's why they
                 call in their threats. Same mentality as
                 obscene phone callers.
                 Except they'll blow you up if you
                 don't play along.
                 No, ninety-ninety percent of them are full of
                 baloney. They're into the power trip, not the
                 damage. What scares me is that this guy is so
                 sophisticated he could blow up whatever he
                 wants, then disappear. The worst of the
                 bunch, they love the challenge of creating the
                 wildest device ever... and they love the
          Glass lays out flat on his stomach and searches deep under a
          machine, picks up a half-smoked cigarette butt with tweezers,
          pulls it out, kneels.
                              GLASS (cont.)
          Glass straightens it out, reads the brand name, "Gallois".
                              GLASS (cont.)
                 French. Doubt somebody who worked
                 here smoked it. Only half gone, put it out in
                 a hurry.
                        (glances around)
                                                                      11/10/97       42.
                                    GLASS (cont.)
                       Figuring the length, assuming it was one of
                       these guys, odds are... it was lit outside.
               Glass takes off.   Reilly follows.
          35   EXT.   MACHINE SHIP - GARAGE - AFTERNOON                         35
               Glass and Reilly search the area.    Glass moves on his knees,
               aiming the flashlight.
                       This is where the van was parked.
                       Then, it's gotta be here somewhere ...
                       Look, it's a longshot...
               Glass pinches something with his tweezers, holds it up
               triumphantly... a used match.
               A jungle of giant fibers teeming with strange molecules.
                                    T.J. (O.C.)
                       No question, it was definitely the one used to
                       l-light the butt. Finger pressure suggests a
                       male, average build, height... no prints,
                       trace of nylon fiber... he wore a glove.
          36   INT.   THE CAVE - AFTERNOON                                      36
               T.J. punches keys on a computer, peers through the microscope
               as Glass, Reilly, Pooch and Bev stand by.
                                                               11/10/97   43.
                 This is strange.
          Two computer screens - one displays the magnified match from
          different angles, the other spills out a stream of formulae
          and chemical breakdowns.
                              T.J. (cont.)
                        (reading info)
                 Three foreign particles ... vulcanized
                 rubber ... resin ... nitro-cellulose.
                 Nitro-cellulose. What is that, some
                 kind of explosive?
                 Industrial wood oil. Separately, any one of
                 these things could lead in several directions,
                 but together ...
                 They make bowling balls out of vulcanized
                 rubber ...
                 Lane oil...
                        (beat, proud of his team)
                 A bowling alley.
          At an adjacent computer, Bev runs a scan program on the
          match, comparing it against an endless stream of match types
          on file. Schnoz howls awake from a nap as T.J. stabs the
          screen as a match is made, specifications filling the screen.
                                                                       11/10/97     44.
                       Got it! Ace Match Company, Flint, Michigan.
                       You mean you just--? ... You keep a record
                       of... matches?
                       Hey, matches are a very big thing in our line
                       of work.
                              (smirks at Reilly)
                       "Punks", huh?
                       Bev, give `em a call, find out what bowling
                       alleys they supply in this area.
                       Pooch, why don't you e-mail your buddies at
                       Langley and on the other side of the pond,
                       see if any IRAs been popping up lately?
                       You got it.
                              (to Reilly)
                       We work fast enough for you?
               Reilly mouth is opened, duly impressed.
          37   EXT.   BOWLING ALLEY - LATE AFTERNOON                           37
               The Studebaker and Harley swerve up to a run-down, windowless
               bowling alley, park in a red zone.
               Reilly and T.J, climb out of the clunker, Glass off his bike.
                                                                     11/10/97      45.
               T.J. checks his hair in the side mirror, sniffs his
                       T.J., what're you doing?
                       My first undercover assignment.
                       I gotta look good, right?
               Reilly and Glass exchange a grin, they drag T.J. inside.
          38   INT.   BOWLING ALLEY - LATE AFTERNOON                          38
               A busy Saturday afternoon crowd. Rock music blasts,
               reverberating with the echo of crashing balls and pins. The
               lanes are teeming with sweating bodies. Sexy waitresses in
               skimpy outfits deliver drinks.
               T.J. ogles women as they wander through.
                       So what're we looking for?
                       Someone who smokes French cigarettes.
                       In this crowd? It's gonna be Marlboros,
                       Camels, and maybe a few Kools.
               Reilly and Glass nod, knowing it's a longshot.
               Reilly directs Glass and T.J. to split up to case the place.
               They move through the rowdy crowd, eyes catching every
          39   INT. BOWLING ALLEY - POOL ROOM/BAR - LATER                     39
               The music is more redneck-rock, the crowd as well.
                                                                 11/10/97   46.
          Glass and T.J. are in the midst of game of pool, nursing
          bottles of Root Beer. They continue to play while eyeing
          those coming and going.
          Reilly enters from the alley, catches Glass' eye and shakes
          his head. He goes to the bar and orders a coke.
          He takes the drink and moves over next to Glass as T.J. lines
          up a shot.
                 How long are we going to stay?
                 `Til we get a better lead.
          Reilly's attention is drawn to a crowded booth in the corner
          where a few bowling alley girls block the view of the entire
          Glass nudges Reilly, they look over to see Pooch entering the
          bar. He sees them and moves to the bar. T.J. sinks his shot
          and lines up another as Reilly and Glass move to meet Pooch.
          Pooch produces a printout from his jacket, opens it up.
                 Unsolved bombings in the last year... Boston,
                 New York, Philadelphia... but no real match
                 Exactly my thinking. Except, none of the
                 targets can actually be linked to government,
                 political or special interest concerns. They
                 seem to be just unrelated industrial
                 companies.   Some insured, some not.
                                                                 11/10/97   47.
                              POOCH (cont.)
                 But there's traces of C4 and assorted
                 inflammatory additives found in each case.
                 The only common denominator is the detonators
                 all had circuitry consistent with our micro-
                 Not bad for Bomb squad, eh?
                 What not bad. You've got a series of bombs,
                 devices, that may or may not be connected, set
                 by one or many nutjobs, who may or may not be
                 Well... it's more than we had ten minutes ago.
                 I got a friend over at Scotland Yard who's
                 gonna try and reach out to a undercover guy
                 who would know if any of the rightwingers are
                 circulating over here. Bev's following up on
                 the briefcase manufacturers, too.
          T.J. comes over.
                 Pooch, you're up.    Rack `em.
          They look over to the pool table to see only the cue ball
                              T.J. (cont.)
                 Boss, you're buying the next round.
          T.J. sets his empty Root Beer bottle on the bar.
                 How're you guys doing?
                                                               11/10/97   48.
                 Still waiting for a miracle.   Go ahead.
          Pooch and T.J. head back to the pool table where two comely
          Gals have begun putting the balls back onto the table. T.J.
          turns on his smile and chats them up.
                              REILLY (cont.)
                 Quite a team you've got, where'd you find
                 It's a small fraternity, everyone knows
                 everyone. I'm always recruiting. Pooch is ex-
                 D.O.D., military expert... claymores,
                 grenades. He played linebacker at Boston
                 College, worked a K-9 unit - that led him to
                 the Bomb Squad... great nose, lousy fingers,
                 we try to keep him away from the tickers.
                 T.J. is a heck of chemist, Texas A&M
                 engineering degree. Found him in a Militia
                 chat room - turns out we were both monitoring
                 the same groups. Bev is the natural born
                 hacker, we stole her from dispatch. She had
                 the Cave reorganized and ultra-high-tech in
                 two months. Captain has no idea how much
                 hardware she's "found" for us.
                 You guys seem pretty tight.
                 We've gotta be. In this business, you don't
                 exactly make alot of outside commitments.
                 Why do you do it?
                 I don't know, it's strange... it's not the
                 best career path, but when you get the bug,
                 there's nothing you can do about it.   See,
                 when you beat one of these things...
                                                                11/10/97   49.
                              GLASS (cont.)
                 there's that one second when you realize you
                 saw something you weren't supposed to see...
                 this beautiful naked woman... Death... and
                 then the rush comes, the high, cuz you realize
                 you got away with it.
          T.J. returns, shrugs.
          Pooch is still with the girls, showing one of them how to
          line up a shot.
                 Looks like Pooch's doing okay.
                 He's married, he don't even know what a
                 lesbian is.
          T.J. waves over the Bartender. He and Glass orders fresh
          drinks as Reilly eyes pretty Blonde across the bar. She
          picks up two beers and grabs a pack of matches off the bar.
          She turns and moves to the booth in the corner.   The bodies
          part and Reilly catches a glimpse of Earring.
          Reilly nearly chokes on his coke as Earring takes the matches
          from the Blonde. Earring checks his watches, rises. He
          looks up and catches Reilly's eye - he smiles--then bolts.
          Reilly coughs up his drink and tries to get a word out,
          pointing as Earring slips out the exit door next to the
          Glass pats Reilly's back as he gags, eyes blazing.
                 There he goes. He was here the whole time.
                                                                     11/10/97       50.
               Reilly pushes his way through the crowd with Glass on his
               heels. T.J. rushes over and grabs Pooch away from the Girls
               at the pool table.
               Reilly runs into a pair of enormous Rednecks, spilling their
               beer on them.
               The Rednecks grab him by the collar and prepare to fight as
               Pooch arrives and body-blocks the Rednecks away from Reilly.
               Reilly is released and he continues after Earring as Pooch
               and the Rednecks mix it up.
               A brawl breaks out with Pooch and T.J. in the middle as
               Reilly and Glass make it to the exit door. Reilly flies out-
               but Glass FREEZES dead in his tracks. He spins back to look
               at the corner booth.
               THE SHOPPING BAG sits on the floor under the table.
               Glass tenses.
               The fight escalates quickly, but Pooch employs his linebacker
               skills and cuts down his assailant... and T.J. a natural
               streetfighting-rabbit-puncher. They quickly dispatch the
               Rednecks, leaving them bruised and bloodied... they rush for
               Glass and the doorway--then lock on Glass' reaction and stop.
          40   EXT. STREET - LATE AFTERNOON                                    40
               Reilly runs out into the middle of the street.
               At the end of the block, Earring is rushing for the corner.
               Reilly draws his 9mm, aims thru the pedestrian--and fires.
               Earring is blown off his feet...
               He hits the pavement hard...
                                                                    11/10/97       51.
          41   INT.   BAR                                                     41
               Reilly enters and sees Glass, TJ and Pooch gathered around
               the booth in back.
                       Say, thanks for the back up--
               The bomb squad ignores Reilly, who now realizes something is
               wrong. He pushes his way through the bar patrons to the
               Glass glances up at Reilly.
                       He set one, the son-of-a...
               TJ and Pooch exchange looks--they've never heard Glass so
               close to swearing before.
               T.J. notices a small crowd starting to gather around the
                       Clear the area, please.
               Nobody moves.
                       You heard him, get the fuck away,
                       it's a bomb!
               That does it, the crowds shriek and scatter.
               Rolling eyes at each other, the Bomb Squaders turn their
               attention to the shopping bag sitting on the floor.
                       Alright.   Let's assess.
               The team eyes the package for a moment...
                                                               11/10/97   52.
          Glass makes a determination, whips out a knife, slashes the
          bag open, revealing a computerized nightmare of a bomb
          inside.   T.J. rubs his temples with dread.
          Glass puts on his magnifying spectacles, starts to probe.
          Reilly returns.
          Pooch tests hinges with his tweezers. T.J. hands Glass a
          crimp. Pooch pries off a back panel, fingers shaking, lifts
          it every so slightly, sees complex circuitry inside, the red
          glow of a digital readout counting down.
                 Oh shit...
                 Fuck factor ten.
                 Okay, I'm going in, nobody breathe.
          Synchronizing his chronometer to the counter, Glass begins
          disengaging sensor switches.
                              GLASS (cont.)
                 Altimeter... choking coil... mercury switch...
          He clips off circuits and booby traps with bloodcurdling
          care, peeling away layer after layer of death... shakes his
          head with awe, respect, fear.
                              GLASS (cont.)
                 Triple V.O.M... brilliant... this guy's a
          Finally he comes to the heart of the bomb, a pair of tiny
          wires leading to the blasting cap, one yellow, one red.
          Precious seconds tick away.
                                                                 11/10/97   53.
                              GLASS (cont.)
                 It's one of these wires.
                 So cut both.
                 One shuts it down, one turns arms it.
                 Which one's which?
                 I don't know. There's an old saying, when in
                 doubt, cut the yellow wire.
          Reilly gulps. The device teeters, slightly, alarming T.J.
          and Pooch. Glass nods. T.J. and Pooch each grab a corner of
          the device to steady it. Reilly follows their lead and
          kneels, goes to reach for a corner as well, one hand starts
          to tremble.
                              GLASS (cont.)
                 You can go back to the van if you like.
                 No, I'm with you.
          Reilly focuses and wills his hands to steady.    He grabs a
          corner and closes his eyes, mind over matter.    Sweat streams
          as he concentrates like never before.
          Pooch and T.J. stare at the wires with intensity.
          15 seconds, 14, 13,... Glass pulls out a clipper.
          12, 11, 10... He eases the clipper into position.
          9, 8, 7... He draws in a breath.
          Closing his eyes, he clips the yellow wire.    Reilly's eyes
          snap open.
                                                                     11/10/97       54.
               The counter stops on 4 - no explosion.
               Pooch and T.J. whoop and hug like drunk madmen.   Glass steps
               away, stone-faced. Reilly follows him, wobbly.
                                     REILLY (cont.)
                         You okay?
                         Is this a great job or what?
          42   EXT.   STREET - MOMENTS LATER                                   42
               Two squad cars have appeared, Officers cordon off the crime
               Glass watches Reilly kneeling over Earring's body digging
               through Earring's pockets, finding nothing but cash,
               cigarettes and matches.
                                (at Glass)
                         Nothing. Nothing traceable.
               INT BAR
               Pooch and T.J. have the device on the ground a few feet away
               from the Earring's body. They delicately continue to take it
               apart so it can be transported safely. Schnoz sits nearby,
               watching. Pooch is on the phone with his wife...
                         I don't know, honey. I'll see. No,
                         everything's fine, it was nothing.
               As he says this, he lifts a chunk of C4 and sets it aside.
               Pooch hangs up his phone.
               EXT STREET
               Pooch and TJ exit the bar, moving to Glass and Reilly.
                                                                      11/10/97     55.
                                   POOCH (cont.)
                      You guys hungry? The wife's got a heap of
                      lasagna leftover.
                             (at Reilly)
                      What do ay say?
                      Meg's lasagna. Good eats, Reilly.      C'mon.
               Glass notes Reilly's hands.
                                   GLASS (cont.)
                      Good meal would go a long way to steady your
                      Got work to do, don't we?
               Pooch scribbles down an address on a scrap of paper from the
               device's shopping bag, hands it to Reilly, offering a smile.
                      In case you change your mind.
               Reilly looks at it awkwardly, then walks away as a News van
               arrives on the scene...
          43   EXT./INT. DOWNTOWN - STUDEBAKER - EARLY EVENING                43
               Reilly cruises into the bowels of downtown.    Makes a few
               turns and parks.
               In the shadows of a burned out building, Reilly observes
               several JUNKIES getting a fix from their CONNECTION.
               Reilly watches with scared, tempted eyes.
               He looks at his hands... they're trembling... catches his
               reflection in the rear view mirror. Checks Rice's watches on
               his wrist, taps it. Still not ticking. Ashamed, he
               screeches away.
                                                                      11/10/97     56.
          44   INT. POLICE STATION - OFFICE - NIGHT                           44
               A quiet Squad Room. Reilly bangs out something on a computer
               terminal. He blazes away, typing as fast as he can. He
               holds out his hands. Almost steady. He takes a drink from a
               Protein Shake, returns to typing.
          45   INT.   WINTERS' OFFICE - NIGHT                                 45
               A weary Winters looks up from coffee and paperwork as Reilly
               knocks, walks in. Reilly drops a sheaf of papers on his
                       What's this?
                       Report on the case so far.
                       You know after a shooting I would normally
                       take your badge and weapon, but Glass called
                       in already and confirmed it was clean.
                       Yes, sir.
                       But from now on, any leads on this case go to
                       Pluchinsky. He's primary investigator and you
                       are unofficially assigned to the Bomb Squad...
                       you and your new friends are not to be playing
                       detective any more. Got it?
               Reilly nods, accepting.
                                    WINTERS (cont.)
                       I imagine as soon as they find out one of
                       their's is dead, we'll be getting another
                       call. So get some sleep, alright.
               Reilly nods, turns and exits.
                                                                       11/10/97    57.
          46   INT.   SUNCREST MOTEL - ROOM - NIGHT                           46
               TIGHT on a TV - a pretty Reporter reports live from the
                       To recap, a gunman carrying what police
                       described as a phony bomb was shot and killed
                       less than an hour ago.
               THE ROOM
               Swan watches the TV report with Beard, eyes narrowing as he
               sees Reilly in the crowd behind the Reporter.
                                    REPORTER (cont.)
                       While the man's motives and identity remain a
                       mystery, police are denying the incident is
                       related to the explosion that ripped through a
                       bar earlier today, killing 15 and wounding
                       more than 30...
               Swan kicks in the TV, destroying it.
                       She talked.
               Swan flips open a suitcase full of bomb-making materials and
               begins to sort through...
          47   EXT.   POOCH'S HOUSE - NIGHT                                   47
               Quiet, cozy, middle class. The Harley and the Bomb Squad van
               are parked out front. Also the Studebaker.
          48   INT.   POOCH'S HOUSE - HALLWAY - NIGHT                         48
               Reilly exits the bathroom, returns to the dining room where
               the Bomb Squad is laughing, hoeing and haying over dessert.
               Pooch's faithful wife, MEG, pours coffee. TOMMY and JANIE,
               Pooch's kids, sit on Pooch's and T.J.'s knees, in their
                                                               11/10/97   58.
                 More coffee, T.J.?
                 No thanks, Meg. Hawed Pooch ever get so
                 Mr. Reilly?
                 Mike.   No thanks, I'm fine.
                 Time for bed, kiddos.   Say goodnight.
                 Can Uncle Teej tuck us in?
                 C'mon, champ, I'll even give you
                 a piggyback.
                        (to Glass, Reilly)
                 Goodnight Uncle Charlie, goodnight Uncle Mike.
          Janie surprises Reilly with a shy kiss, scurries upstairs
          with after Pooch, T.J. and Tommy.
          Meg clears the dishes, Schnoz is asleep on the floor. Glass
          and Reilly are left alone.   Reilly takes a sip of coffee,
          hand trembles ever so slightly.
                 How long were you hooked?
                                                                 11/10/97   59.
                 You don't have to talk about it.
          Reilly stares, then opens up slowly.
                 Pittsburgh, two years ago. Partner died, no
                 back-up, I was too gung-ho. As usual.
                 Take a tip from the Bomb Boys, always assess,
                 if only for a second.
                 I know. I was working a drug ring, deep
                 cover. Played the part too well. When they
                 pulled me out, I wasn't a cop anymore. My
                 fiance had dumped me. Next thing I knew, I
                 was out here on the street, doped up,
                 auditioning for the morgue when this tough old
                 vice cop found me, cleaned me up, gave me a
                 second chance. He promised Captain Winters
                 he'd look out for me.
                 Your partner?
                        (nods sadly)
                 I guess I didn't realize how much I needed
                 him. He kept me straight. It's been tough
                 every second since.
          Reilly holds up his wristwatch.
                              REILLY (cont.)
                 This was his. Doesn't work for shit, but it's
                 keeping me straight.
                 Let me see.
                                                                    11/10/97       60.
               Reilly gives him the watch. Glass pulls out a mini tool kit,
               pries off the back of the watch examines the works.
                                    GLASS (cont.)
                       Main spring's stuck. All you have to do is
                       free the palate and realign the balance wheel.
                       Here, you try.
                       I terrible with mechanical things.
                       No you're not, you just don't understand them.
                       Here, do what I tell you.
               He holds out the mini-kit. Reilly takes it uncertainly, but
               follows Glass' instructions.
                                    GLASS (cont.)
                       Okay, first push the pin back with this.
                       Good. Now while you keep it there, stick this
                       in here and turn it slowly. Easy, that's it.
                       Now let the pin go and line up the wheel.
                       That should do it.
               Reilly gives it a tweak, looks at the watch, surprised.
                       It's working.
                       Congratulations, you just built your
                       first ticker.
               Reilly throws Glass a surprised look.
          49   EXT.   POOCH'S HOUSE - EARLY MORNING                           49
               Sunrise breaking. Reilly and Glass have their heads under
               the hood of the Studebaker, covered in grease, tools
               everywhere. T.J. sits behind the wheel. Pooch and Schnoz
               stumble out of the house to watch.
                                                                    11/10/97        61.
                      Okay, hit it.
               T.J. guns the engine, the Studebaker purrs like a tiger.
                      We've created a monster.
               Glass glances at Pooch.
                      Any word?
                      Nothing.    Maybe they gave up, split town.
                      Don't bet on it.
          50   EXT. POLICE STATION - MORNING                                   50
               Bustling activity...
          51   INT. THE CAVE - MORNING                                         51
               Reilly enters to find Glass, Bev, T.J. and Pooch busy at work
               at each of their work stations. Glass moves over to watch
               Bev's computer screen.
                      How's the print coming?
                      One partial from the handle matches the
                      suspect from last night. Name's Carl Taylor.
                      Long record of arson, assault, the works. The
                      other print - we got nothing from our data
                      base or the FBI or CIA... still waiting for
                                                                    11/10/97        62.
               Bev enters another command... the computer goes to work as
               she turns to Reilly.
                       Coffee, Mike?
                       No thanks, Bev.
               She smiles warmly. He smiles back, T.J. eyes them, slightly
               jealous of the moment.
               A phone rings.   Bev answers it...
                       Yes, sir.   He's here.   I'll tell him.
               Bev hangs up the phone.
                                    BEV (cont.)
                       Mike, Captain wants to see you
                       right away.
               Reilly heads for the door.
          52   INT.   POLICE HEADQUARTERS - MORNING                            52
               A strange, uncomfortable silence hangs over the squad room as
               Reilly weaves past cops smoking, drinking coffee, waiting.
               They all stare at him. Especially Pluchinsky.
          53   INT.   WINTERS' OFFICE - MORNING                                53
               Reilly walks in. Winters gestures for him to take a seat as
               he talks on the phone.
                       Yes ... no, of course not but ... yes,
                       sir, I understand.
                                                               11/10/97   63.
          Winters hangs up.
                              WINTERS (cont.)
                 I got a call from upstairs. They say you
                 questioned the girl.
                 Yes, sir.
                 She's refused to say a word to anyone. What
                 made you think you could get her to talk?
                 I didn't.     But I had to try.
                 Reilly, I think I've shown that I'm a patient
                 man. Rice was your biggest fan and I've tried
                 to honor him by giving you some slack. But
                 you are very close to running out of slack.
                 Yes, sir.
          Winters lets this sink in, then holds up Reilly's report.
                 I read your report. Impressive. I'd say it's
                 got detective written all over it. But... you
                 cross the line one more time... you're gone.
                 Are we clear?
          Reilly, nods, shifts uncomfortably.
                              WINTERS (cont.)
                 Now, that out of the way. The girl wants to
                 talk to you, alone.
          Reilly is shocked.
                              WINTERS (cont.)
                 So get going, let's close this thing.
                                                                       11/10/97    64.
                       Yes, sir.
               Reilly bolts off.
          54   INT.   POLICE STATION - INTERROGATION ROOM - DAY               54
               Reilly enters to find Harry and the Girl waiting for him.
               Harry looks the Girl over, nods at Reilly.
                       I'll be outside.
               Reilly nods, Harry exits.     Reilly sits down at the table
               opposite her.
                                    THE GIRL
                                    THE GIRL (MARY)
                       My name is Mary Jordan. We were hired to take
                       out some industrial sites. Insurance.
                       But they weren't all insured.
                              (slowly, ashamed)
                       It was suppose to be abandoned buildings,
                       y'know. No one was suppose to get hurt. The
                       night you busted us...We were checking to make
                       sure there weren't any vagrants around. Scare
                       them away.
                       Who is he?
                                                                     11/10/97        65.
                       Alex Swan. My brother.
                       The other two are called Taylor and
                       Taylor's dead.
               She seems relieved.
                                    REILLY (cont.)
                       Where are they, Mary?
               Mary takes a deep breath, eyes welling.
                       There is a motel downtown, near the Machine
                       Shop... the Suncrest. Room 138.
                       Thank you.
                       He's my brother...
               Reilly rises and moves to her.   Their eyes linger a moment, a
               bond between them.
                       Then why tell me?
                       People are dying.
               Reilly nods and touches her shoulder, a light squeeze.   He
               turns and exits.
          55   EXT.   SUNCREST MOTEL - ROOM 138 - DAY                           55
               An army of cops and squad cars out front, Pluchinsky silently
               directs a SWAT team to the door. Reilly and the Bomb Squad
               watch from a distance as they break down the door.
                                                                 11/10/97   66.
          SHOUTING, mayhem as the team floods into the room.
          Pluchinsky brings up the rear. After a beat, Pluchinsky re-
          emerges, shaking his head.
          Swan and Beard watch from behind a car. Beard gives Swan a
          dirty look and they quietly move off around the corner.
          Reilly and Glass are visibly disappointed.
          As the others grumble about it, Reilly notices someone across
          the street - the Bag Lady with the pie-tin crown, holding her
          hand out to a MAN getting into his car. The Man ignores her,
          screeches off. The Bag Lady scribbles down his license
          number in her pad. Glass follows Reilly's stare.
                 Be right back.
          Reilly crosses the street, intercepts the Bag Lady as she's
          pushing her cart away.
                              REILLY (cont.)
                 Excuse me... I'm looking for two men who were
                 staying at the hotel over there - one has a
                 beard, the other's tall, thin. You wouldn't
                 happen to have seen them, would you?
                              BAG LADY
                 No, of course not... well, thanks
                 anyway. Here you go, Your Highness.
          He fishes some change out of his pocket, hands it over,
          starts away.
                                                                      11/10/97    67.
                                    BAG LADY
                       On second thought, maybe I did.
               He turns back. The Bag Lady flips through her pad, stabs an
               entry with her finger.
                                    BAG LADY
                       Lemme see... yeah, here it is, 11:18 this
                       morning. Very disrespectful. He used to
                       drive a van, but he got a new car. You want
                       the license number?
               She tears off the page, holds it out.
                       You're beautiful!
               Reilly gives her a big kiss, races back to the Bomb Squad
               who've been watching.
                       We're back in business!
               They all look at him like he's nuts.
          56   INT.   POLICE SQUAD ROOM - DAY                                56
               Buzzing with action.   Harry and Pluchinsky attack Winters
               with printouts.
                       Ran the license plate - car was rented early
                       this morning from a Hertz office downtown.
                       Alex Swan - demolitions expert, trained at
                       Redstone, dropped out, freelanced in the
                       middle East for awhile, then disappeared, no
                       criminal record. The other one, Leveau, is
                       French Canadian, he's a mercenary, record in
                       half a dozen countries.
                                                                     11/10/97      68.
                       Get out an APB, now!
               Harry moves off to the DISPATCHER as a fax machine comes to
               life on the desk next to PLUCHINSKY. A fax spews out...
                                    WINTERS (cont.)
                       Jesus. Pluchinsky, get four squad cars out to
                       my house, get my family out of there, tell my
                       wife I'm on my way.
                       Yes, sir.
          57   EXT.   POLICE STATION - DAY                                    57
               Cops race to their cars. An armada of black-and-whites
               scream out of the parking lot. Winters appears and jumps
               into his Ford Sedan and tears out.
                                    DISPATCHER (V.0)
                       ... suspects driving a dark green
                       Ford Grenada, license number one
                       Two Eight Michael Vincent Edward ...
          58   EXT. SUBURBS - DAY                                             58
               Squad cars roar up and down the streets.
               Two cars are parked out in front of one house in particular.
          59   INT. POLICE STATION - SQUAD ROOM - DAY                         59
               In the squad room, Pluchinsky and some men wait anxiously by
               phones, computer-consoles, radio switchboard.
                                                                     11/10/97     69.
          60   EXT. POLICE STATION - DAY                                     60
               Reilly idles in his Studebaker. T.J. and Pooch come out of
               the parking lot in the Bomb Squad Van, Glass motors along
               side Reilly. He guns the bike and takes the lead, followed
               by Reilly, then the van.
               They pull out into traffic and head towards the suburbs.
          61   EXT. STREET - DAY                                             61
               Beard drives, Swan rides shotgun.   A briefcase lies on the
               seat between them.
               As he makes a left, Beard notices the Bomb Squad Van coming
               the other direction.
                      We've got company.
               Swan whirls, pulls a gun as Glass and Reilly pass them.
               Reilly double-takes...
          62   INT. STUDEBAKER                                               62
               Reilly grabs his radio mic, yells into it...
                      Glass, there they are. Pooch right in front
                      of you, you got `em, you got `em.
          63   EXT. STREET - DAY                                             63
               Reilly SKIDS to a dead stop. Glass, up ahead tries to
               maneuver around slowing cars as...
               The Grenada speeds down a street right in front of the Bomb
               Squad Van.
               Pooch cranks into a turn and gives chase. Reilly and Glass
               are pinned in by other cars. They both finally squeeze out
               of their jams in different directions...
                                                                    11/10/97        70.
          64   EXT./INT. ANOTHER STREET - BOMB SQUAD VAN - DAY                 64
               An excited T.J. jumps on the radio.
                      Dispatch, this is Bomb Squad. Suspects
                      sighted on Fern Street, two blocks from HQ.
                      In pursuit.
                                    DISPATCHER (O.C.)
                      Roger that.   All available units...
          65   EXT. STREET - DAY                                               65
               Beard speeds around another corner, the lumbering Van has
               difficulty keeping up and loses sight of the Grenada for a
          66   EXT. ANOTHER STREET - DAY                                       66
               The Grenada speeds up, heading towards the Police Station up
               The Bomb Squad Van appears and speeds up.
               ON THE SIDEWALK
               Swan stands discreetly in a phone booth, watching as...
               ON THE STREET
               Beard steers towards a parked Squad Car next to the Station -
               on collision course. At the last second, Beard dives from the
               moving car, hits the pavements and rolls.
               The Grenada CRASHES into the Squad Car... but no explosion.
               The Bomb Squad Van SKIDS to a stop as two uniformed Officers
               rush out of the Station.
               Beard has rolled to his feet and is now sprinting off down
               the street.
                                                               11/10/97   71.
          Pooch and T.J. jump out of the Van (leaving a BARKING Schnoz
          inside) and sprint towards the Grenada, guns drawn. Pooch is
          quickly huffing and puffing. T.J. continues after Beard as
          Pooch moves towards the Grenada. The uniforms follow T.J.
          Glass on his Harley appears from behind the Van. At the far
          end of the street the Studebaker rumbles into view, followed
          by a Squad Car, lights flashing. Everyone closing in on
          T.J. aims and yells at Beard.
                 Police, freeze!
          Beard whirls around, SPRAYING automatic weapon FIRE at T.J.
          and the Uniforms - they hit the pavement.
          A few nearby Pedestrians SCREAM and drop to the ground.
          Reilly jumps out of his Studebaker as Beard turns his FIRE on
          him, BLOWING OUT his windshield.
          Back at the Grenada, Pooch ducks for cover by the open
          driver's door.
          Glass runs his Harley behind a parked car.
          The Squad Car behind Reilly SKIDS to a stop and as Beard
          shifts his aim, T.J. and Reilly each PUMP TWO SHOTS into
          Beard's torso.
          Beard spins around, drops - dead silence on the street.
          Relief all around. Everyone stands back up. T.J.'s jaw
          drops at the sight of actually having hit the suspect with
          his bullets.
          AT THE GRENADA
          Pooch exhales in relief, then hears BEEPING coming from the
          front seat of the car. He looks in to see the briefcase
          open, countdown ticking away.
                                                                      11/10/97      72.
                       Oh... damn.
               The Grenada explodes in a massive FIRE-BALL, throwing nearby
               Glass off his feet. Everyone else drops back to the ground,
               covering their heads.
               Swan grins and walks away down an alley.
               We can hear the CRY of Schnoz, WAILING from the front seat of
               Reilly stares off into space. Surreal silence, like a
               dream... Reilly looks at his watch, keeps his eyes low as he
               steals a glance at Glass in the other chair, face wracked
               with pain, loss.
               They both look through the glass office at the squad room
               outside, the sounds of reality fade in... phones ringing,
               voices shouting... a tense, chaotic emergency atmosphere.
               Reilly and Glass rise as Winters walks in, closes the door.
               He sits behind his desk, lights a cigarette.
                       Glass, sorry about Pooch, he was a good man.
                       We don't have time to give you a break right
                       now, we're going ahead and-
                       My God, you're going to use her, aren't you?
                              (ignoring Reilly)
                       Glass, you're to stand by with your team.
                                                                      11/10/97     73.
                      I promised her she'd be safe.
                      It's our only option.
                      It won't work, he'll know it's a trap...
                      Reilly, you're done for now. What the hell
                      were you thinking directing the Bomb Squad
                      Team into hot pursuit. They had no business-
                      I know.
                      You've been at the center of two suspect
                      fatalities and two Police Officer fatalities.
                      I'll need your badge and your weapon.
               Reilly looks at Glass, there'll be no stepping in this time.
               He glares at Winters, reaches into his jacket, pulls out the
               badge and tosses it on Winter's desk. He pulls out his 9mm,
               pops out the clip and open the chamber, sets it down.
          68   INT. POLICE STATION - SQUAD ROOM - EARLY EVENING               68
               Reilly and Glass trudge out, both profoundly disturbed as
               they head across the squad room. Glass veers off.
               Reilly stares, eyes wet, watching him disappear.
               Glancing over, he notices Bev and T.J. sitting with Meg down
               the hall, Tommy and Janie asleep in her lap. Schnoz walks up
               to Meg, whimpering.   Bev wraps her arm around her. T.J.
               puts his hand on Bev's shoulder.
                                                                       11/10/97      74.
               Pluchinsky brushes roughly past Reilly, snapping him out of
               it. He turns, walks dejectedly out.
                                                                 DISSOLVE TO:
          69   EXT.   POLICE STATION - REAR ENTRANCE - EARLY MORNING            69
               An armored van screeches up. Doors fly open. Metro SWAT
               Team jumps out with equipment, helmets, rush into the
          70   INT.   POLICE STATION - SQUAD ROOM - MORNING                     70
               Thundering silence. Winters and his men wait by phones.
               Their watches tick. So does the clock on the wall. Nothing.
               SWAT Team Captain BENSON, huddles with his men.
               A phone rings, shattering the quiet.   Harry answers it, holds
               it up urgently.
                       It's him!
               Winters takes it. A new high-tech TRACER flicks on a new
               piece of equipment.
                       Winters here.
               Swan's voice comes over the squawk box, growling low.
                                    SWAN'S VOICE
                       You motherfuckers, you don't learn,
                       do you?!
                       We're prepared to talk-
                                      SWAN'S VOICE
                       Shut up!    Shut up!
               The Tracer homes in on the signal.
                                                                        11/10/97    75.
                                    SWAN'S VOICE
                       You have exactly thirty minutes to release the
                       girl where you found her.
                       Twelve ...
                                    SWAN'S VOICE
                       Thirty minutes.
                       Nine ...
                       How do we know you'll keep your word?
               Click, dial tone.
               Winters flashes a look at the Tracer.   The Tracer yanks off
               his headphones in utter frustration.
                              (to his men)
                       Okay, let's move!
               The room erupts into action. Benson and the SWAT Team are
               the first ones out the door...
          71   EXT.   ALLEY - DAY                                              71
               Hauntingly familiar. An unmarked police car pulls up and
               stops behind the machine shop.
          72   EXT./INT. ALLEY - CAR                                           72
               Harry sits behind the wheel.    Mary sits in the back,
               handcuffed to Pluchinsky.
               Pluchinsky unlocks the cuffs.   Mary's eyes flare
                                                                    11/10/97        76.
                      Get out and go to the machine shop -
               Mary steps out of the car. She glances around--then heads in
               the opposite direction of the Machine Shop. Pluchinsky
               curses. He starts to go after her, but realizes he'd better
               clear the area. He peals out.
          73   EXT. STREET - DAY                                               73
               Undercover Men in various disguises track her from cars, and
               on foot, communicating by hidden mics. A WINO eyes her
               carefully, lifts a bottle to his mouth and whispers...
                      She's out of the bag.
               Mary exits the alley onto the street, searching where to go.
               She turns down the street and moves fast, eyes darting about.
          74   EXT. STREET                                                     74
               The SWAT van is tucked into an alley...
               INSIDE THE SWAT VAN
               Winters, Benson and Team monitor the radio communication.
                                   WINO (O.C.)
                             (on the radio)
                      Position Four. Turning on Elm.
          75   EXT. ELM STREET - DAY                                           75
               Mary crosses the street, a Camero nearly clips her. She
               makes it safely to the sidewalk and passes a TRUCK DRIVER
               eating a hot dog. After she moves off...
                                    TRUCK DRIVER
                              (speaks into sleave)
                      Six.   She's crossing to Main.
                                                                        11/10/97      77.
               Mary looks around quickly, blends into a crowd coming out of
               a store and ducks inside.
                                   TRUCK DRIVER (cont.)
                      She just went into a department store.    She's
                      out of sight.
          76   INSIDE THE SWAT VAN                                               76
               Winters grabs the mic...
                      Seal the building!
                             (to Benson)
                      Let's move.
               The SWAT van RUMBLES to life.
          77   INT. DEPARTMENT STORE - DAY                                       77
               Mary bolts through the store, ducks through a service door.
          78   EXT. DEPARTMENT STORE - SERVICE ENTRANCE - ALLEY - DAY            78
               Mary bursts out, runs like a spooked horse.
               As she dashes to the mouth of the the alley, she runs smack
               into the Camaro that almost hit her. It SCREECHES to a stop.
               The passenger door flies open.
               Mary leans down and looks in, flushes. It's Swan.    He
               reaches over and yanks her inside, TEARS away.
               The Truck Driver runs into the other end of the alley.
               He starts to give chase as Swan tosses a small package out of
               the car. The Truck Driver dives for cover as...
               KA-BOOOOM!!!   A dumpster EXPLODES.   The Truck Driver jumps to
               his feet...
                                                                    11/10/97        78.
                                    TRUCK DRIVER
                              (into sleave)
                       We have contact. Black Camaro-
          79   INSIDE THE SWAT VAN                                             79
               The Van SPEEDS up as we hear...
                                    TRUCK DRIVER (O.C.)
                       -license number HQW-256.
          80   EXT. CITY STREETS - DAY                                         80
               From every direction, unmarked cars, squad units and the SWAT
               Van converge on the area.
          81   INT.   CAMARO - MOVING                                          81
               Swan drives with deadly confidence, glances at Mary tenderly.
                       You okay?
                       I know.   I warned them.
               He swerves left, then right, pulling a transmitter out of his
                       What is that?
               He sets a dial to 10, pushes a button.
               The transmitter counts down... 9, 8, 7...
                                                                      11/10/97     79.
          82   EXT. ALLEY - DAY                                               82
               The Camaro tears down a one-way alley going the wrong way.
               Undercover vehicles race after the Camero, seconds behind.
               5, 4, 3 ...
               They swerve into the alley.
               Then just as Swan whooshes out, a charge EXPLODES a stack of
               55 gallon drums. They fall down into the path of the
               pursuers who crash into the FLAMING DRUMS.
               The lead car EXPLODES...
          83   EXT./INT. STREET - CAMERO - MOVING - DAY                       83
               Mary looks back in horror as she's whisked away.
          84   INT.   DOWNTOWN BAR - DAY                                      84
               Dark, filthy, last stop to nowhere.
          85   INT.   BACK HALLWAY                                            85
               Drunk, dejected, looking like shit, Reilly waits for a fix
               with a couple other JUNKIES. The TV in the bar drones in the
               The Dealer appears and gestures to Reilly.
                       C'mon, cowboy, you're next.
               Reilly trudges over.
                       Okay, what's it gonna be? I got China White,
                       Snow Flake, Ivory Pearl...
                                                                      11/10/97      80.
               Reilly looks up sharply as he hears the TV, visible through
               the doorway.
                                    REPORTER ON TV
                       We're coming to you live near the scene of
                       that latest, explosion that ripped through a
                       downtown alley less than half an hour ago.
               Something clears behind Reilly' eyes.
                       Hey, asshole ...
                                    REPORTER ON TV
                       Despite growing fears and talk of a coverup,
                       police have sealed off the area and are
                       refusing to comment about fatalities, or the
                       rumor that terrorists may be involved.
               Reilly's eyes shift, mind racing.
                       Hey, I'm talking to you--
               Suddenly himself again, Reilly bolts up, sending the Dealer
               and his equipment scattering, and streaks off. He bursts out
               of the front door of the bar into the glare of sunlight... we
               can hear SIRENS not too far off.
          86   INT.   STUDEBAKER - MOVING - DAY                                86
               Driving like a maniac as usual, Reilly grabs the radio mike
               with one hand, pulls his back-up .357 out of the glove-box.
               He listens out the window for the SIRENS, he looks up at the
               sound of approaching HELICOPTERS.
          87   EXT.   GAS STATION - DAY                                        87
               In the service bay, a MECHANIC raises the black Camaro on a
               hydraulic lift, out of sight from the street.
                                                                       11/10/97    81.
               Out front, Swan pays an ATTENDANT, climbs into an orange U-
               Haul truck with Mary, drives off.
               A beat, a squad car and an unmarked speed past the Gas
          88   EXT./INT.   STREETS - U-HAUL - MOVING                          88
               Swan brushes Mary's hair from her face.
                      You hungry?     We could get something to eat.
               Mary shakes her head, scared.
                      What's the matter?
                      Nothing... just tired.
               She forces a smile. Swan frowns suspiciously as he turns
               down a service road, pulls into...
          89   EXT. SELF-STORAGE WAREHOUSE - DAY                              89
               Swan pulls up to the loading dock of the warehouse.
               INSIDE THE TRUCK CAB
                      Why are we stopping here?
                      We're moving' on. I have to pick up the
                      supplies. Just two little boxes.
               Mary turns white.
                      No...   No more killing.
                      Stay here.
                                                                  11/10/97   82.
                 Alex, please.
                 Stay in the truck.
          He gets out, disappears into the building.
          Mary glances around desperately, sees a phone booth at the
          corner. She looks back at the warehouse, the phone again,
          LOADING DOCK
          Yanking her door open, Mary dashes to the booth, searches her
          pockets. Empty. She dials zero... it rings and rings, then
                              OPERATOR (O.C.)
                 Get me the police!
                              OPERATOR (O.C.)
                 Is this an emergency?
                 Yes! Please, hurry!
          Mary's back is to the warehouse as she waits forever.
                              SERGEANT'S VOICE
                 Police, Sergeant Doyle speaking.
                 Please, I need help, my name is--
                              SERGEANT DOYLE'S VOICE
                 Whoa, slow down, lady. Now what's
                 that again?
                                                                11/10/97   83.
          Suddenly Mary sees the reflection of a face in the phone
          booth glass. She whirls - Swan is standing behind her!
                 Who are you calling, sis?
                 What?    Nobody, I-
          She tries to hang up.   Swan grabs the receiver.
                 Alex, please-
                 Shut up!
                        (into phone)
                 Who is this?
                              SERGEANT DOYLE'S VOICE
                 Sergeant Doyle, Metro P.D. Look, what's going
          Swan's eyes turn cold, SLAMS down the phone.
          Swan grabs Mary, dragging her with him.   A pair of TEENAGE
          BOYS on skateboards notice, veer over.
          Swan whips out his Mac-11. The Boys skate for cover as Swan
          drags Mary back to the U-Haul.
          The open back door reveals a number of 55 gallon drums, some
          boxes and two milk crates of C4. He SLAMS down the sliding
          door, moves around front and shoves Mary inside.
                                                                       11/10/97     84.
          90   INT.   STUDEBAKER - MOVING - DAY                                90
               Caught in traffic, map spread out in his lap, Reilly slams on
               his horn.
                       C'mon, move it.
               His police radio crackles.
                                    DISPATCHER VOICE
                       All units, 211 reported at 8th and Sycamore.
                       Suspect is a Caucasian male, armed with an
                       automatic weapon, last seen heading east with
                       female hostage in a U-Haul truck ...
               Reilly perks up, checks his map.
               Jamming the wheel, he crashes out of traffic, ripping the
               bumper off the car in front of him, and rockets away.
               He grabs his mic, thinks, disguises his voice.
                       Dispatch, this is Reilly.
                                     DISPATCHER VOICE
                       Go ahead.
                       Patch me through to the Bomb Squad.
                                    DISPATCHER VOICE
                       Aren't you on suspension?
                       Just do it.
                                     DISPATCHER VOICE
                       Hang on.
               Reilly runs a red.
                                                                    11/10/97    85.
                                      T.J.'S VOICE
                      T.J. here.
                      T.J., it's Reilly, put Glass on!
          91   EXT./INT. STREET - BOMB SQUAD VAN - MOVING - DAY            91
               T.J. is in the passenger seat, Bev sits in the back with
               Schnoz, Glass drives. Glass takes the mic.
                      What's up?
                      Where you guys at?
                      Driving in circles, waiting for-
                      Catch that alert? That's him in the U-Haul.
                      How do you know?
                      Cuz he got the girl, now he's leaving town.
                      Should we head for the Interstate?
                      Would you?
                      No, I'd slip out past the hotel district,
                      behind Greyhound...
                      Me, too.
                                                                       11/10/97    86.
               Reilly hangs up, fishtails around a corner, map blowing out
               the window.
          92   EXT. STREETS - DAY                                             92
               Patrol cars, unmarked and the SWAT Van criss-cross the
               streets in confusion...
          93   EXT. ANOTHER STREET - DAY                                      93
               T.J. speeds by in the Bomb Squad van.
          94   INT.   STUDEBAKER - MOVING - DAY                               94
               Reilly swerves onto 8th Street, eyes searching desperately.
               Rounding the rear of a huge glass luxury hotel, Reilly
               catches a glimpse of orange disappear around a corner.
               Reilly bangs a hard right to go around the block.
                              (into mic)
                       Glass, Eighth Street, alley behind Grand
                       Hotel. Cut him off.
                                    GLASS (0.C.)
                              (on radio)
                       You got it.
          95   EXT. ANOTHER STREET - DAY                                      95
               The Bomb Squad accelerates...
          96   INT.   STUDEBAKER - MOVING - DAY                               96
               Reilly changes channels on the radio...
                              (into mic)
                       All units, suspect spotted heading down alley
                       behind Grand Hotel.
                                                                    11/10/97        87.
                                    REILLY (cont.)
                      We need back-up, now.
          97   EXT./INT. STREET - SWAT VAN - MOVING - DAY                      97
               Winters is shocked at the sound of Reilly's voice.
                             (into mic)
                      Reilly, what the hell are you-?
                                   REILLY (O.C.)
                             (on radio)
                      Fire me later. Close in and we got the
                      Pull back.   You're only an observer.
          98   EXT./INT. STREET - STUDEBAKER - MOVING - DAY                    98
               Reilly throws down his mic, aims at the alley ahead and
               speeds up, then cranks into the alley, SCREECHES to a stop.
          99   EXT. ALLEY - DAY                                                99
               The U-Haul barrels down the alley. Swan sees Reilly up ahead
               get out of his car and aim his .357
               Swan SLAMS on the brakes. Throws the vehicle into reverse.
               Checks his mirror to see the Bomb Squad Van appear at the end
               of the alley. He's completely pinned in.
               Glass and T.J. jump out, they are in bullet-proof vest,
               aiming shotguns, using the van as a shield. Bev jumps out
               with Schnoz and slips behind the van entirely.
               AT THE STUDEBAKER
               Reilly's radio CRACKLES...
                                   WINTERS (O.C.)
                      Reilly, what's happening? Reilly! Reilly!
                      Do not engage. We're five minutes-
                                                                     11/10/97   88.
                          (into mic)
                   We'll keep him pinned in, you guys hurry up!
          Reilly throws done the mic, takes aim again.
          THE U-HAUL
          idles.   Swan's rage erupts.       He climbs out with Mary in tow.
          Reilly aims carefully...
          Swan keeps his Mac-11 to Mary's head. Reilly is frozen by the
          move. Swan backs to the rear of the van. He slides up the
          door, revealing the drums and explosives to the Bomb Squad.
          He reaches in and grabs a remote control.
          SIRENS are coming closer, only a block or two away...
          Glass and T.J. drop their jaws.       They see Swan depress the
          remote, arming the explosives.
                   Reilly!    He's loaded!
                   Glass, you guys take cover, goddammit!
                   I want out, right now.      Or the whole city
                   block is gone.
                                                                11/10/97   89.
                 Reilly, he's got enough to do it.
          Reilly leaves the cover of his car and scurries along the
          side of the alley, escaping Swan's view.
          Swan rages.   He moves around the van, pulling Mary along.
          Swan SPRAYS a FLURRY of bullets over Reilly's head... Reilly
          dives for cover as bullets rip the alley wall inches from his
          Swan whirls and SPRAYS the Bomb Squad Van, dropping T.J. with
          a shot to the leg. Bev drops to his aid. Glass grimaces,
          having been hit in the shoulder.
          Reilly moves forward about to take the shot.
                              GLASS (cont.)
                 Reilly, don't. He's got a pressure switch.
                 He releases it, we're done for.
          Swan turns back to Reilly, rams his Mac-11 to her throat.
                 Drop it.
                        (to Reilly)
                 Take him!
          Mary jerks away from Swan.
          Reilly fast FIRES.
          Swan takes Reilly's SHOTS in the chest. He smiles as he
          starts to fall, his hand starts to open up to release the
          Mary dives onto Swan and grabs at the remote, clasping it in
          her hands. Swan collapses, Mary on top of him.
                                                                11/10/97   90.
          Reilly and Glass sprint at the U-Haul, reaching a trembling,
          bleeding Mary.
          She clinches her jaw, fighting the grief, holding on to the
          Reilly reaches Mary first and puts his hands over her's - she
          looks up into his eyes--distraught.
                 Hold on to that thing tight.
          Glass goes to the explosives and looks over the set-up.
                              GLASS (cont.)
                 Jesus Fucking H. Christ...
          Reilly has never heard Glass swear before...
                 Fuck factor?
                 Off the scale.
                 What do we do?
          Glass turns to Mary.
                 Can you hold it?
          She nods.   Reilly releases her gently, joining Glass at the
                 Talk to me.     Let's assess.
                                                                 11/10/97   91.
          Glass stares at the digital read-out on the device anchored
          in one of the C4 crates. It reads: "1:30, 1:29..."
                 C'mon, talk to me! We can do it!
                 He has a timer going as back-up, in case we
                 got a hold of the remote.
                 Okay... first, run your fingers along
                 the edges, feel for a sensor.
          Reilly does it the way he saw Glass do it before.
                 Good, now the other side.
                 Okay, let's go in.
          1:18, 1:17, 1:16 ....
          Reilly feels around, finally finds an access hole.
          Reilly works the hole bigger.
                              GLASS (cont.)
                 Not enough time ... gotta go for the
                 blasting cap. Only one chance... hand
                 Keep talking.
                 Close your eyes, feel your fingertips.   Tell
                 me everything you feel.
                                                               11/10/97   92.
          Reilly' hand disappears into the hole.
          His fingers snake through complex circuitry as he describes
          each layer.
                 Wires... metal, cold... something soft...
                 Don't touch that.
          BACK TO SCENE
          The red digital numbers keep counting down: 0:38, 0:37, 0:36
                 More metal... sharp edge...
                 Stay to your left.
          Deeper, deeper.
          The SWAT Van and a unit arrive, Winters and Benson jump out,
          the SWAT Team is about to follow-
                 Get outta here, Swan's down, but they're
                 chilling a device.
          Winters looks to the action at the U-Haul, sees Reilly and
          Glass busy at work. He nods at Benson.
          0:30, 0:29, 0:28...
          Finally Reilly' fingers touch a button object. We hear the
          SWAT Van and the unit retreat at the end of the alley.
                                                                11/10/97   93.
                 Something round, two wires ...
                 That's the blasting cap - good! Okay, now
                 grab it by the base and pull it straight up.
                 No, Wait...
                 What's wrong?
                 Too easy. There's gotta be something else in
                 there, another cap maybe.
                 Make up your mind, trigger.
          0:19, 0:18, 0:17...
                 Ease your thumb over to the right - feel
          Reilly eyes shift as his hidden fingers feel around...
                 Yeah, another round thing.
                 Okay, one of the caps turns it on,
                 the other shuts it down.
                 Which one's which?
                 I don't know.
                 What... ?
                                                               11/10/97   94.
                 When in doubt, pull the yellow wire.
                 How the hell do you feel yellow?
                 No excuses, just do it!
          10... Reilly glares at Glass.
          9... His face is dripping with sweat.
          8... His fingers shift back to the first cap.
          7... They close over it, ready to pull.
          6... But then they stop.
          5... Reilly frowns.
          4... Glass stabs him with a look.
          3... 2... Lightning-quick, Reilly' fingers fly back and yank
          the second cap out of its base.
          The counter stops.    0:01.
          Reilly and Glass and stare at it, holding their breath,
          hardly daring to believe it's true. They whoop and explode
          with relief.
          It's over... it's finally over.
                              GLASS (cont.)
                 Not bad, for a rookie.
          Reilly and Glass turn to Mary who has lost consciousness but
          is still holding the remote tightly.
                                                                       11/10/97      95.
                Glass looks up to see T.J. and Bev peeking from around their
                       All clear, but we need an ambulance!
                Bev jumps into the van to make the call as T.J. starts
                limping towards the U-Haul. Schnoz yelps and drops from the
                van and runs for the U-Haul.
                Reilly cradles Mary in his lap as Glass kneels and removes
                the remote - the red light stops flashing, then turns off.
                T.J. arrives and looks down at Reilly and Mary, then at the
                device in the U-Haul.
                       Nice work.
                                                                    DISSOLVE TO:
          100   INT. POLICE STATION -SQUAD ROOM - DAY                          100
                The room is back to its usual bustling activity.
          101   INT. POLICE STATION - WINTER'S OFFICE - DAY                    101
                Winters is going through reports on his desk as Reilly
                enters. Reilly is cleaned up, shaven, haircut, new suit... a
                new man.
                Winters look up, impressed with the change.
                       Mayor loves a hero.
                Winters hands Reilly an envelope and a new badge.
                                    WINTERS (cont.)
                       Just want you wanted. Your promotion, and
                                                                        11/10/97      96.
                       Thank you, Captain.
                Winters nods and goes back to his paperwork.
          102   INT. THE CAVE - DAY                                             102
                T.J. and Bev work closely together on a mock-device. T.J. is
                teaching her the job. They smile warmly at each other.
                Glass is on the computer.
                Reilly enters.
                       Hey, you look great.
                T.J. flinches, but she winks at him to calm him down.    T.J.
                smiles... no longer threatened.
                Glass doesn't look up from his computer.
                       You're late.
                Glass points to the work station next to him where a Bomb
                Squad Protocol Program is waiting on the screen.
                Reilly smiles and he sits next to Glass, hands him the
                transfer papers envelope.
                                    GLASS (cont.)
                       Welcome to the family.
                Glass accepts the papers and shakes Reilly's hand.
                       Nice to be here.
                       That feeling won't last long.
                                                                11/10/97   97.
          T.J., Glass and Bev start laughing.   After a beat, Reilly
          joins in heartily.
                                                               FADE OUT.