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TRANSCRIPT:
NB - The curly parentheses {} represent Michael's voiceovers.
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[Opening Montage.]

[Michael stands on the pavement in Warri, Nigeria, in the hot sun.]

        {My name is Michael Westen.}

[He cocks a gun in the restroom.]

[He runs.]

[He's on a bike, pursued by guys firing at him from a sedan.]

        {I used to be a spy until...}

[He listens in barely-concealed shock to the man on the phone.]

MAN: [from phone] We got a burn notice on you. You're blacklisted.

[Dressed as a messenger, he whistles.]

[As he walks down a street, he grimaces in pain (due to a couple of broken ribs).]

        {When you're burned, you've got nothing.}

[Shot of his accounts statement on the computer ("Accounts Frozen"). He checks his cell phone as he gets off a bus.]

        {No cash, no credit, no job history.}

[He manages to pull himself onto a plane. The plane takes off.]

[In a Miami motel room, he sits up groggily in bed, shirtless, while Fiona Glenanne sits nearby.]

        {You're stuck in whatever city they decide to dump you in.}

MICHAEL WESTEN: Where am I?

FIONA GLENANNE: Miami.

[Shot of Miami Beaches.]

[At night, in his loft, he assembles a fake bomb.]

[He leans back and nearly falls off a small chair.]

[A car blows up in the night.]

[He and Sam Axe stand in front of a car.]

[He takes pictures from inside his car.]

[He laughs.]

        {You do whatever work comes your way. You rely on anyone who's still talking to you...}

[Fiona cocks a SPAS-12 shotgun inside Sam's car.]

[She kisses Michael outside his loft.]

        {A trigger-happy ex-girlfriend.}

[He and Fiona have dinner in a Chinese Restaurant.]

FIONA GLENANNE: Should we shoot them?

[Sam smiles at Michael as he suns himself.]

[Sam walks, wearing sunglasses.]

[He holds a tape recorder to the phone.]

        {A friend who's informing on you to the Feds.}

[He and Axe Sam talk in a cafe.] SAM AXE: You know spies. Bunch of bitchy little girls.

        {And family, too.}

[Michael looks at his ringing cell phone, as Sam sits behind.]

SAM AXE: Hey, is that your mom again?

[Michael hangs up.]

[His mom, Madeline, smiles.]

        {... if you're desperate.}

[At home, Madeline speaks to Michael.]

MADELINE WESTEN: Someone needs your help, Michael.

[Michael exits a mansion.]

        {Bottom line - until you figure out who burned you... }

[He looks through a cracked glass.]

[He moves out-of-sight behind a wall.]

        {... you're not going anywhere.}

CUT TO:

[Stock footage of Miami. Day.]

FADE TO:

[Miami Beach. Day. Pop music plays in the background. A harried-looking Michael walks with Fiona along Collins Avenue, where the big names in fashion sell their latest creations. Shots of Vidal Sassoon and Sisley, Nine West, Giroux, Sephora and Aldo. Fiona looks at some clothes inside a store, while Michael stands outside impatiently. He beckons her irritably, much to her annoyance. He looks heavenward and leans wearily against a palm tree. Shots of Guess, Ralph Lauren, Armani Exchange.]

[They walk down a crowded sidewalk. Fiona hands a pair of red stilettos to Michael.]

FIONA GLENANNE: What do you think of these shoes, Michael?

MICHAEL WESTEN: [couldn't care less, hands them back] Fantastic!

[She grabs them back.]

FIONA GLENANNE: I have just the right dress.

[She looks at the shoes as she walks.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Are they real?

FIONA GLENANNE: Well, they look real. Isn't that what counts?

[He stares at her.]

FIONA GLENANNE: [amused, ironically] You're getting a fake identity, Michael. I can't get fake shoes?

[Michael doesn't want to argue, so he changes the subject by pointing forward.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Place is up here somewhere.

[Fiona sees a store nearby.]

FIONA GLENANNE: You know, you go ahead. I'm gonna... Oh, that's pretty.

[She stops to look at the store's display, almost absent-mindedly. Michael doesn't stop walking.]

            {A fake identity is known in the spy trade as a false flag. Used to be you could make your own documents with a printer and a laminator.}

[He enters a Moneygram store (where you can get Payday Advances, loans and the like).]

            {These days, though, ID's have magnetic strips, holograms and infrared watermarks.}

[He goes up to the counter, where the heavyset owner ("Jumbo") stands.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Hey.

            {You need a pro.}

JUMBO: Yes. What can I do for you?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Uh, I lost my, uh, passport and driver's license. I heard, uh, I could get some new ones here.

JUMBO: All you gotta do is report 'em stolen. They'll send you replacements.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Ri-ight. But the thing is... [looks around furtively] I'm going on a trip soon, and I heard you could do it here more quickly and more quietly.

[Jumbo looks at him, understanding.]

JUMBO: That might be possible... for a fee.

MICHAEL WESTEN: A fee is not an issue.

[Looking around and licking his lips, he jerks his head, motioning Michael to follow him.]

JUMBO: Come on back.

[He goes to the back.]

[In the back room, they sit on opposite sides of a desk. Jumbo applies some ink onto a paper, as he speaks.]

JUMBO: Ah, I don't get much call for the good stuff anymore. Most of my business is just teenagers, you know, trying to get past a bouncer at a titty bar.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [humoring him, sniggers] Titty bar.

[Jumbo chuckles as he bends his large mid-section towards the desk drawer.]

JUMBO: Got no appreciation for art. You know? Give me your right hand. How about folding your sleeve back?

[Michael starts rolling up his right sleeve.]

JUMBO: This stuff gets on your shirt, it'll never come out.

[Jumbo straightens himself, having got what he was looking for - a Smith and Wesson Model 36 revolver. Aiming it at Michael, he drops a pair of handcuffs on the desk.]

JUMBO: And slide these on for me, if you don't mind.

[Michael, in the midst of rolling up his sleeve, stops and looks at him, betraying no emotion. Keeping the gun on Michael, Jumbo holds up a hard copy from the FBI, with Michael's picture on it, with instructions to call Special Agent Allerot.]

JUMBO: This, uh, this is you, isn't it?

[Michael leans towards the picture and peers at it, as if unable to make it out clearly.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Uh, kinda hard to tell from here.

[Jumbo chuckles and lowers the paper.]

JUMBO: [pointing the gun at the cuffs] Put those on for me, if you don't mind.

[Michael puts on the handcuffs and locks them with a click. He smiles wryly.]

            {In some situations, a tactical retreat is your best option.}

[Jumbo stands up slowly, gun still leveled at Michael, making his way towards his phone.]

JUMBO: Listen, bud. I'm sorry as I can be about this, but, uh, a guy like me don't stay in business very long unless he slips the FBI a bone every now and then, and let's face it, you're a big old soupbone.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [smiling] I'm flattered.

JUMBO: Yeah. They come through here every now and then asking about you.

[Michael looks at Jumbo, the gun in his face.]

            {A guy with a gun is a guy with a gun. You can fight him and risk someone getting shot or wait for backup.}

[Backup arrives in the form of Fiona. She enters the store. Michael notices her through the window, separating the store from the back room. Jumbo, with his back to her, doesn't notice her.]

JUMBO: You gonna be my "get no hassles for a year" card.

[Jumbo dials a number on the phone and puts it to his ear. Michael pretends to cough, so he can put his hands to his face, showing  Fiona the cuffs. She sees them and starts thinking.]

JUMBO: [into phone] Yeah. Special Agent Allerot. Tell him it's Jumbo.

[Fiona slowly drops her bag and starts to sneak towards the back room.]

JUMBO: [into phone, annoyed] Well, how many Jumbos you think he knows?

[Fiona bursts inside the back room, excitedly holding up her fake shoes, and runs up to Michael.]

FIONA GLENANNE: [squealing in delight] Hi, honey! Look at the deal I got on these shoes. You're not gonna believe it.

[Jumbo is surprised by the sudden intrusion by the bubbly airhead.]

JUMBO: Lady. Lady, you can't be back here. Get out of here! Get out of here.

[He keeps the gun on Michael, as he tries to usher her out of the back room.]

FIONA GLENANNE: [acting scared as she sees the gun] Oh.

JUMBO: Now!

FIONA GLENANNE: Sorry, I just wanted to show my boyfriend my fake shoes.

[Flustered, Jumbo aims the gun at Fiona.]

JUMBO: Now!

MICHAEL WESTEN: She's pregnant!

[Jumbo turns to Michael, shocked. Fiona swings her fake shoe at Jumbo's right arm, knocking the gun out of his hand. He tries to grab her, but she whacks him across the face with the shoe again, dropping it. Jumbo falls to the ground, dazed. Michael jumps up from his chair and he and Fiona high-tail it out of the store.]

FIONA GLENANNE: Pregnant?

MICHAEL WESTEN: It worked.

[Fiona runs a few steps out of the store, then turns suddenly and starts running back inside.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Where you goin'?!

FIONA GLENANNE: My shoe!

[She changes her mind about re-entering the store, when she notices Jumbo walking purposefully towards them, toting a shotgun. She and Michael sprint away.]

FIONA GLENANNE: Oh! Well, they clash with my dress anyway.

CUT TO:

[Opening Title.]

CUT TO:

[Stock footage of Miami. Day.]

CUT TO:

[Michael's Loft. Day. Fiona opens the fridge and pulls out a beer.]

FIONA GLENANNE: You know, I was thinking, we could do some vacationy things when we go to DC.

[She twists the cap off the bottle and walks towards Michael (still handcuffed), who stands in front of the workbench near the stairs, rummaging through his toolbox.]

FIONA GLENANNE: You know? Make the most of our trip.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Where's my lockpick set?

FIONA GLENANNE: You know, maybe a fancy dinner one night, take in some of the sights.

[She joins him at the workbench, as Michael awkwardly moves stuff around in the toolbox.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: I'm gonna confront a man who tried to have me killed. It's not a weekend getaway, Fi.

FIONA GLENANNE: We can mix business with pleasure.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [tapping the toolbox with his finger] It was right here. Fi, the thing about DC...

FIONA GLENANNE: ... is that you're going to need backup. [clenched teeth] Don't tell me you'd rather have Sam.

MICHAEL WESTEN: We can't talk about this right now.

FIONA GLENANNE: Why not?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Because I have a hard time focusing [turns to her, holding up his cuffed hands, irritated] when I'm in handcuffs!

[He shakes the cuffs in her face, hoping to get the point across. Fiona smiles sweetly. She puts her hand to her hair and pulls out a hairpin. She shakes her head, letting the hair loose, and holds the hairpin out to Michael.]

FIONA GLENANNE: Would this help?

[Wordlessly, he takes it and starts to pick at the handcuff lock with it.]

FIONA GLENANNE: Another fine illustration of your need for [softly] tactical assistance.

[Michael manages to get the cuffs off.]

FIONA GLENANNE: Admit it, Michael. [teasing] You need me. You don't even have your own hairpin.

[Michael drops the cuffs on the workbench and pulls out his wallet. He clips the hairpin to the front side of his wallet.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: I do now. You happy?

[Putting away the wallet, he walks upstairs, as Fiona smiles and drinks her beer.]

CUT TO:

[Stock footage of Miami. Day.]

FADE TO:

[Bar. Day. Michael and Sam walk towards the bar.]

SAM AXE: Well, yeah, I know a few guys who do ID work, Mike, but, y'know, the feds are gonna be all over them too, especially now.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Feel 'em out for me, will ya?

SAM AXE: Mike, they said if you leave Miami, they're gonna pick you up. At DC, there's gonna be someone there who is gonna recognize you, y'know. The best fake ID in the world isn't gonna change that.

MICHAEL WESTEN: The guy that burned me tried to have me killed. As long as I'm in Miami, he can find me. I'll take my chances in DC.

[They enter the bar and sit at the counter.]

SAM AXE: You know who might be able to help... is Lucy. She called a while back with a job, but you were pretty busy with this whole burn notice business, but now...

MICHAEL WESTEN: What's the job?

SAM AXE: Well, I don't know the details, but I do know that she works with some real artistes. I mean, these are the kinda guys who can give you a whole new life to go with your ID. You interested?

MICHAEL WESTEN: [sighs] Let's give her a call.

CUT TO:

[Stock footage of Miami. Day.]

FADE TO:

[Outside Lucy's Office Building. Day. Michael enters the building.]

            {Corporations need spies just like governments do. Of course, they're not called spies. They're called security consultants.}

FADE TO:

[Lucy's Office. Day. A PA leads Michael into an office.]

            {They're basically mercenaries with nice suits.}

[An Asian-American lady sits at the desk in the office. For those who've forgotten, this is...]

                                                           LUCY
                                                SECURITY CONSULTANT

[Lucy smiles as Michael enters. The PA hands Lucy a folder and leaves. Michael looks around the glass-encased office, admiringly.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Your offices just keep getting better and better.

[Looking at the folder, she speaks to Michael, who stands near her.]

LUCY CHEN: 'S good to see you, Michael. What've you been up to?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Little of this, little of that. Haven't you been getting your reports from your FBI buddies?

LUCY CHEN: I didn't tell them anything they couldn't find out for themselves.

MICHAEL WESTEN: If you tell them, they don't have to find out for themselves, do they?

[Michael trails off as he tries to sneak a peek into Lucy's folder. She notices him peeking and closes the folder.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [feigning innocence] What? Uh, I...

[She drops the folder on the desk.]

LUCY CHEN: [sighs] You were the one that trained me in the delicate art of giving people useless information.

[Michael shrugs, proudly.]

LUCY CHEN: I said nice things, for what it's worth.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Thank you. You have a job for me?

LUCY CHEN: [picks up a folder] A woman I met. Evelyn. She heard I worked security. She asked me for help. I guess her ex ran off with their son. We ran checks, credit cards, airlines, got nothing. Somebody's gonna have to do some legwork but a job that small, not really our thing.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [smiles, acting touched] You thought of me.

LUCY CHEN: I would consider it a favor if you took the job, and the money's not bad.

[Michael leans on her desk.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Money's not the pressing issue.

LUCY CHEN: Why? What do you need?

[Michael looks around.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [softly] Identity.

LUCY CHEN: [frowns] Not for traveling.

[Michael gives her a wide-eyed "You know it is" look.]

LUCY CHEN: [seriously] Michael, if you leave Miami... I can't help you with that kind of thing.

[Michael gives her a puppy-dog look.]

LUCY CHEN: Seriously.

[Oh, we gotta do this the hard way then. Michael gets on his knees heavily, groaning. Lucy tries to stifle a smile. He comes up close to her.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [whispers] Lucy.

[She hesitates, unable to keep from smiling.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [sounding needy] Lucy.

[She can't take this torture any more.]

LUCY CHEN: [sighs] Fine. Get your documents together, I'll have my guys do an ID package.

[Michael pumps his fist, victoriously. He stands up. Lucy, trying to remain formal, hands him Evelyn's file.]

LUCY CHEN: Go see Evelyn first.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Thanks.

FADE TO:

[Outside Apartment building. Day. Near the pool, Michael speaks to his new client, a pretty 30-something with shoulder-length blonde hair, who's unable to hold back her tears.]

CLIENT: I separated from Doug a few months ago. I tried to keep it together for Jasper's sake, but... Oh, that's our son.

[She is...]

                                                           EVELYN
                                                     THE CLIENT

[Michael listens attentively and sympathetically.]

EVELYN: But it was hard on him listening to us fight all the time. He started acting up at school. Then Doug turned on him, [shaking her head] and I wasn't gonna let that happen.

MICHAEL WESTEN: I'm sure you made the right decision.

EVELYN: [softly] He took him. He just picked him up early at school one day, and he disappeared.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Did you call the police?

EVELYN: Yeah. Every day. [sighs] But technically, we're still married, and he is Jasper's father, so without a custody order,

they can't do anything. [sobbing, pleadingly] Oh, please, I cannot wait for the courts to sort this out.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [comfortingly] Do you have any idea where he might have taken him?

EVELYN: None. I have no idea, 'cause I've hardly spoken to him in months.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Do you have pictures?

EVELYN: Yeah.

[She opens her purse and pulls out two pictures of an eight-year-old smiling at the camera.]

EVELYN: [sobbing] That's Jasper. Please. Lucy said you could find him. I need to know that he's okay, and I want him back.

[Michael puts on his "Victory" sunglasses and looks at her.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [serious as a heart attack] I'm gonna find him.

[He walks to the car, where Sam waits for him.]

            {One of the things you learn in training is to avoid situations that cut too close. If you had a rough childhood, a situation with an abusive father and a vulnerable kid is gonna make you angry. That can be motivating, but it can also be dangerous.}

[He reaches the car, looking at the photos of Jasper.]

SAM AXE: Well, she's a looker. What's the story?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Husband ran off with her kid.

SAM AXE: You all right, Mike?

MICHAEL WESTEN: [focused] I'm gonna find this guy.

[He gets inside the car.]

CUT TO:

[Stock footage of Miami. Day.]

CUT TO:

[Madeline's House. Day. In his mother's house, Michael opens a closet, looks inside and sighs.]

            {Facts are the hallmark of a good false identity. It's harder to create history than it is to alter it. Plus, the more truth to your lie, the easier it is to remember.}

[He starts searching the closet. Behind him, Madeline Westen comes up, the ever-present cigarette held between her two fingers.]

MADELINE WESTEN: I don't see you for weeks, and you start going through the closets? What are you lookin' for?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Where is that box you used to keep all my stuff in?

MADELINE WESTEN: The memory box?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Sounds about right.

MADELINE WESTEN: I don't remember.

[Michael stops.]

MADELINE WESTEN: I'm kidding. 'Scuse me.

[Michael makes way for her, taking some stuff with him. She starts to look through the closet and pulls up a blue ribbon.]

MADELINE WESTEN: Oh, God. Look. Hah! First place. God, the trophy was bigger than you were.

[She puts it to Michael's chest (which is now bigger than the ribbon).]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Can we speed this up, Ma? I need my medical records and my birth certificate.

[She continues to look and hands him some stuff to remove.]

MADELINE WESTEN: How about your report card, huh? You could have been valedictorian, if you hadn't been suspended so many times for getting into fights. I never could figure out what was wrong...

MICHAEL WESTEN: [irritably] Mom, I don't need my report card.

MADELINE WESTEN: [muttering] Your father used to get so angry.

MICHAEL WESTEN: I don't want to talk about Dad, ma. [trying not to lose it] I just need my stuff.

[She hands him some papers.]

MADELINE WESTEN: Fine. Here. All right? I don't want you to think you're keeping those.

MICHAEL WESTEN: No, I'm just gonna make copies. I'm gonna take a trip. Work.

MADELINE WESTEN: The last time you said that, you left for ten years, Michael.

MICHAEL WESTEN: It's not that kind.

[Madeline looks over some old photos and chuckles nostalgically. Michael looks at her.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Did you ever think about leaving, Mom?

MADELINE WESTEN: [absent-mindedly] What?

[She chuckles at another photo.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Did it ever get bad enough with Dad that you thought about leaving?

MADELINE WESTEN: [sadly] Of course I did. I wanted to keep the family together, Michael. Through the good and the bad. You kids were so cute.

CUT TO:

[Stock footage of Miami. Day.]

CUT TO:

[Michael's Loft. Day. Michael sits on a chair, while Fiona lounges on the bed. Sam comes downstairs, holding a paper.]

SAM AXE: Well, it's like Lucy said. Chances are he's probably still in the area. There's no recent credit card activity, no car rentals. The only blip, Mike, is where he works. Greenway Worldwide Cargo off of 57th. Talked to my ATF buddy. There's, uh, some kind of investigation there. Uh, some link to organized crime.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Great.

SAM AXE: US Attorney's office is all over it. Left a message, haven't heard back, and that's about it.

[Michael looks at Fiona on the bed. She's looking at him narrowly, lying prone.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: I should, uh, I should go talk to Evelyn.

SAM AXE: Well, you just talked to her, Mike.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Yeah, but she was a little flustered the last time. She might've forgotten something.

[He gets up to leave.]

FIONA GLENANNE: I thought you had to get those documents to Lucy. Your fake ID.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [on his way out] Yeah, I'll do it later.

[He leaves. Sam knows what's about to follow and clears his throat, trying not to look at Fiona. Fiona looks at Sam and, moving on her knees, turns to face him, hands on her hips.]

FIONA GLENANNE: Something I should know, Sam?

SAM AXE: [feigning ignorance] About what, Fi?

FIONA GLENANNE: About why Michael's acting this way.

SAM AXE: [dismissive] What way? He seems fine to me.

[Fiona doesn't believe him. She gets off the bed and sits in front of him.]

FIONA GLENANNE: Tell me about this new client.

SAM AXE: Y'know, I just remembered, I gotta get Mike some yogurt.

[He gets up, puts his beer down, and heads for the door.]

SAM AXE: Y'know, 'cause if I don't do that, boy, it's just... [smacks his fist] You know how he is.

[Fiona rolls her eyes.]

CUT TO:

[Stock footage of Miami Beach. Day.]

FADE TO:

[Miami Beach. Day. Michael and Evelyn walk together, discussing the case. Evelyn seems to have calmed down a bit.]

EVELYN: He never mentioned trouble at work. You think there could be a connection?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Could be. You hear "ATF investigation", it raises flags.

EVELYN: [shrugs helplessly] Well, I wish I could be more helpful.

[They walk slowly onto the sand. Evelyn sits on a wooden beach chair, while Michael stands awhile and then sits on the same chair, behind Evelyn.]

EVELYN: Sorry.

MICHAEL WESTEN: You should just focus on getting your son back. It's the best way to deal with it.

[Evelyn turns and nods.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Evelyn, I think you're stronger than you realize.

EVELYN: Then maybe I should have just stuck with it. You know, what would have happened if-if I had have pretended that everything was all right?

[Michael doesn't answer. He removes his sunglasses.]

EVELYN: But I didn't want my family to be a lie, not for Jasper, not for me.

MICHAEL WESTEN: You're doing the best thing. Believe me. I know a little something about this. I've stayed, and I've left, and sometimes leaving is what you have to do.

EVELYN: Must be lonely, what you do. I couldn't live that way.

MICHAEL WESTEN: In my line of work, I can't allow myself to get too close.

EVELYN: [faint smile] What if you met someone? There's a spark. [chuckles] Would you ignore it? Could you?

[Michael looks into her blue eyes as he speaks.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: I would, uh... concentrate on getting the job done. I gotta head over to Doug's. I'll call you as soon as I know anything.

[Putting on his sunglasses, he gets up.]

EVELYN: Okay.

[He walks away.]

CUT TO:

[Doug Baker's House. Day. While Michael stands guard, Sam works on the lock. He doesn't seem to be making much progress.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: What's taking so long, Sam? You losing your touch?

SAM AXE: [complaining] I didn't know Doug would have a nine-pin dimple lock. Y'know, the new kind. The kind I haven't practiced on.

[The lockpick slips in Sam's hand and scratches his index finger.]

SAM AXE: [groans] Okay, my fingers are bleeding now. There's some pain involved.

[Michael looks at the houses in the neighborhood.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: You know, this is the only place around here with bars on its windows. I wonder what Doug was so worried about.

SAM AXE: Come on, baby. There better be somethin' good in here.

[Click! He manages to get it open.]

SAM AXE: There we go. Got it.

[He enters, followed by Michael. The place is furnished. Other than that, there's not much around. They lock the door behind them.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Looks like he didn't leave much.

SAM AXE: Well, I've worked with less.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Check for bills.

[Sam looks at a coffee table, filled with outdoor magazines and unopened mail.]

SAM AXE: Bunch of junk mail. Magazines.

[Sam finds something he finds interesting - an Ocean Drive magazine.]

SAM AXE: Hello. [peruses the mag] Hey. Here's a quiz. Tells you how to pick your mate based on what you eat. Okay, Mike. What's your favorite meat?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Pleasure reading later, Sam.

SAM AXE: [dropping the mag] You're no fun.

[Outside, the sound of a car approaching is heard. Sam goes to the window to check it out. Sam sees two guys getting out of a pickup truck, carrying guns. They stealthily make their way towards the house. Sam quickly turns to Michael.]

SAM AXE: Mike, two guys with guns coming fast.

[Michael and Sam run towards the back door.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: They must have been watching the house.

[Michael looks through the back door and sees another two guys, similarly armed, coming towards them.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: They got the back covered.

[The attackers start to rattle the doors, trying to get in. They walk quickly, trying to find a hiding place or a escape route. Sam tries a closet - it's too small to fit in.]

SAM AXE: [groans] Nothin'.

[Michael notices a wall-mounted air-conditioner unit.]

            {Just because there are no windows or doors, doesn't mean there are no exits.}

[He goes to it and tries to pry it loose with his hands. When that doesn't work, he starts to kick it.]

            {The thing to look for is the air-conditioner unit.}

[Sam pitches in with a hard kick of his own.]

            {That's where the wall is weakest.}

[Michael and Sam both deliver a hard kick, finally managing to displace the unit. The unit falls outside.]

            {Also, people watch doors.}

[Michael jumps through the newly-formed hole in the wall, into the empty yard.

            {They don't watch air conditioners.}

[As the banging on the doors intensifies, Sam jumps through the escape route. He and Michael sprint away.]

FADE TO:

[Outside Apartment building. Day. Michael and Fiona pull up to the gate in the Charger. Evelyn sits near the pool, on a recliner, wearing dark sunglasses, looking upset. Fiona looks at Evelyn.]

FIONA GLENANNE: Ooh, the damsel in distress.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [annoyed] She said it was an emergency. What do you want me to do?

FIONA GLENANNE: Be her knight in shining armor, of course.

[They get out of the car and go over to Evelyn. Evelyn stands as they approach. They all remove their sunglasses.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Evelyn, this is Fiona. We work together.

[Fiona and Evelyn shake hands.]

EVELYN: Hello. Thank you.

FIONA GLENANNE: Pleasure.

[Michael notices Evelyn's left black eye.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Evelyn. What happened?

[Evelyn puts her sunglasses back on.]

EVELYN: I went to the courthouse to try to get an emergency custody hearing. Some guys were at my car. They knocked me down.

FIONA GLENANNE: How many men were there?

EVELYN: Two, I think.

FIONA GLENANNE: [interrogatively] You think? Could there have been more?

[Evelyn doesn't know.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Probably the same guys that came by Doug's place.

EVELYN: Michael, if Jasper's caught up in the middle of this, I will never forgive myself. [starts crying] Please, you gotta bring him home.

MICHAEL WESTEN: It's all right. It's okay.

[Slowly, she lowers her head into Michael's chest and weeps. Fiona looks at the scene, almost feeling nauseous. Turning, she leaves. Evelyn raises her head and notices Fiona's gone.]

EVELYN: I'm sorry.

MICHAEL WESTEN: It's all right. It's okay.

[Michael heads to his car and gets inside. Fiona sits inside.]

FIONA GLENANNE: [removing her sunglasses] What happened to the trademark Westen emotional distance?

MICHAEL WESTEN: She was upset.

FIONA GLENANNE: Obviously. Where's your head at?

[Michael has had enough of Fiona's pettiness.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [removes his sunglasses] Fi... if you're gonna help me, you can't have this attitude.

FIONA GLENANNE: [arguing, mad] Attitude? If you're gonna be like this, I think I'm entitled to an attitude.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Maybe I should do this one alone then.

FIONA GLENANNE: Maybe you should.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [puts on his sunglasses] I'll drive you home.

FIONA GLENANNE: [angrily, puts her sunglasses on] No, I'll get there myself.

[Pissed, Fiona gets out of the car and slams the door as hard as she can. Michael looks back and watches Fiona stride away in a huff.]

CUT TO:

[Stock footage of Miami. Day.]

CUT TO:

[Bar. Day. Michael sits despondently at a table. Sam strolls happily up to him.]

SAM AXE: Okay, Mike. Tell me I'm a genius.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [distantly] You're a genius.

SAM AXE: C'mon. You can do better than that. Remember the mail we were sortin' through at Doug's place? "Outdoor Life", "Field & Stream". Got me thinkin'. Outdoor types always go back to the woods. So, I got ahold of a buddy of mine, he's at the Coast Guard. He knows a guy in Park Service and I said, "Hey, there's a couple of good bottles of Patrón in it for you if..."

MICHAEL WESTEN: [impatiently] Just tell me, Sam.

SAM AXE: [fishes out a piece of paper and hands it to Michael] State Parks has a record of Doug's license plate at Mangrove Campground.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [reads the paper with great interest] Keys.

SAM AXE: Yeah. Now, look. I'd go there with you, but Veronica sorta set up a mini vacation in Boca. Y'know, one of those swimmin' with the dolphins...

[Michael gets up and walks off.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: I'll take care of it.

[He walks away, leaving Sam a bit confused.]

CUT TO:

[Outside Apartment Building. Day. Michael, having informed Evelyn of the good news, leads her towards the Charger. She packs up her handbag as they walk.]

EVELYN: [excited] I can't believe that you found them so quickly. That's amazing.

MICHAEL WESTEN: My friend Sam may have bruised a couple federal statutes along the way, but nothin' a gift-wrapped bottle of tequila can't smooth over.

[He holds open the door to the passenger side for her.]

EVELYN: Well, you won't get in trouble?

MICHAEL WESTEN: We found him. That's what's important.

[Beaming, she kisses him on the lips.]

EVELYN: I knew I could count on you.

[She gets inside. Michael, staying professional, closes the door and goes over to the driver's side. As he enters, he pulls out his favorite Sig Sauer P228. Evelyn looks at it, surprised.]

EVELYN: Is that loaded?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Yeah.

[He leans over and puts the gun into the passenger side glove compartment.]

EVELYN: Well, you're not gonna bring that with you when you go get Jasper, right?

MICHAEL WESTEN: It'll be fine. Trust me.

[Michael starts the car and drives off.]

CUT TO:

[Miami Streets. Day. Michael drives at top speed. They pass a Citgo gas station and then on to another causeway. They drive through some wooded areas.]

FADE TO:

[Secluded Beach. Day. Michael and Evelyn pull up near a cabin.]

EVELYN: This is it? What do we do now?

[Michael takes his gun out of the glove compartment.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: I don't want anybody getting hurt. No matter what you see, stay in the car... [checks the magazine] until I say.

EVELYN: [smiles] Okay. Thank you.

[Michael nods at her and gets out of the car. Holding the gun behind his back, he approaches the cabin cautiously. A man comes up, holding a fishing rod and box. Michael waves at him. The man puts down the rod and box. Cocking the gun, Michael levels it at him.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Where's your son? Where's Jasper?

[Behind him, Evelyn gets out of the car.]

MAN: Look. This is about me. I'll do whatever you want. Just don't go after my son.

[Michael, his gun held out, seems confused.]

MAN: [vehemently] You people killed my wife. Isn't that enough?

[Realization dawns on Michael.]

            {A basic rule of covert ops is let someone else do your dirty work. Let someone else find the guy you want to kill.}

MICHAEL WESTEN: Oh, sh...!

[Behind him, a gun cocks. Michael whips around and trains the gun at Evelyn. She doesn't look all that upset anymore. In fact, she smiles diabolically at him. She holds a silenced .22 in her hand.]

            {It's a great technique, as long as you're not the someone else.}

[Michael pulls the trigger. Click! That's all he gets. She smiles as she raises her gun at them. Evelyn, the Client, is now...]

                                                           EVELYN

                                                    THE ASSASSIN

[Michael ducks for cover as she fires a silenced shot at them. The shot hits the cabin wall, splintering the wood. Michael grabs the man, who is...]

                                                           DOUG
                                                  THE NEW CLIENT

[He shoves him inside the cabin.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Move! Move!

[Evelyn fires some more rounds at them, but misses.]

CUT TO:

[Secluded Beach/Doug's Cabin. Day. Michael and Doug scramble inside the cabin, keeping low, as Evelyn continues firing at them, shattering the glass windows. Michael locks the door. Evelyn shoots again.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [turns to Doug] Where's your son?

DOUG BAKER: What? You come here to kill me and now...

[Michael goes over to Doug, crouching low, as Evelyn fires off another round.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: I'm not here to kill you. That woman out there is.

DOUG BAKER: Who's she?

[Doug, amateur that he is, looks up to take a better look at the lady trying to remove him from this world. Michael jumps up and yanks him down, before Evelyn's next round completes her contract.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [politely] I need you to stay away from the windows. Where is your son?

DOUG BAKER: He's not here. I sent him to stay with friends.

MICHAEL WESTEN: That is one thing that has gone right today. [shakes hands with Doug] My name is Michael, and I'm here to help you.

[Michael crouch-walks to the side.]

[Outside, Evelyn calls out.]

EVELYN: [tauntingly] Everything all right in there, Michael?

DOUG BAKER: What is she doing?

MICHAEL WESTEN: She'll wait for us to make a move and pick us off when we do. I need a screwdriver.

[Doug thinks for a second, then crouch-walks to a box and removes a screwdriver. Another round is fired at the cabin. Michael comes over next to Doug. Michael removes his Sig's cartridge.]

DOUG BAKER: Shouldn't we call the park rangers?

[Placing his gun on a trunk, Michael starts to take his gun apart with the screwdriver.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Unless the park rangers have been issued body armor and high-caliber weapons, we're on our own here.

MICHAEL WESTEN: She must have disabled my gun when we stopped for gas.

            {Remove the trigger bar spring from a SIG Sauer P228 and you've got a nine-millimeter semiautomatic doorstop.}

[Opening the frame, he exposes the trigger bar spring. Evelyn, obviously losing her patience a bit, starts to fire more rapidly. Some of the rounds hit pretty close to Doug and Michael. Covering his head, Doug drops to the floor.]

EVELYN: I don't know what you think you're playing at, but this is not a game you can win.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Doug, I need a paper clip. Got one?

[Another shot hits glass and wood.]

DOUG BAKER: [exasperated] I don't have a paper clip.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Well, do you have something like a paper clip, a thin piece of metal...

[He stops abruptly, remembering something. More gunfire from Evelyn. He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his wallet.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Wait. Never mind.

EVELYN: Kill him yourself if you want. We need to wrap this thing up.

[Michael removes the hairpin from the front fold of his wallet. He looks at it.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [sighs gratefully] Fiona.

[Using a pair of pliers, he opens out the hairpin and starts to work on the gun.]

[Meanwhile, outside, Evelyn turns around and starts walking towards the Charger.]

[Michael screws the frame back on the Sig. He loads the cartridge into it.]

DOUG BAKER: You fix it?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Hardly. I might get one shot off.

DOUG BAKER: You got one chance to shoot her?

MICHAEL WESTEN: I'm not gonna shoot her.

[Michael hears the Charger engine revving.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Wait.

DOUG BAKER: Is she leaving?

[The revving gets louder.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: I seriously doubt that.

[Michael crouch-walks to the stove and pulls out the small propane tank. He disconnects the pipe attached to the stove.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: You have any duct tape?

[Doug gets the duct tape. Michael picks up a can of bug-spray.]

[Outside, Evelyn drives the car towards the cabin.]

[Inside, Michael takes the duct tape from Doug, making him hold the bug-spray can to the propane tank.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Hold that there.

[Evelyn's getting closer to the cabin. Inside, Michael picks up a gas lighter.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: When I say "now", you're gonna open that door.

[Doug goes to the door, preparing himself.]

[Outside, the Charger picks up speed as it approaches the cabin.]

[Inside, Michael clicks on the lighter, removes the top of the bug-spray can (which is duct-taped to the propane tank) and holds the lighter to it. A jet of flame spouts out from the can.]

[Outside, the Charger is almost on the cabin.]

[Inside, Michael grabs the propane tank and makes his way towards the door.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Now!

[Immediately, Doug pulls open the door.]

[Michael bursts outside, holding the tank in his right hand, his Sig in his left. Evelyn stops the Charger in confusion. In slow motion, Michael throws the propane tank towards the hood of the Charger. He takes aim with his gun, waiting for it to hit.]

            {Shoot a propane tank and you'll just get a big cloud of cold gas.}

[Wide-eyed in shock, Evelyn jumps out of the car, just as the tank crashes into the windshield.]

            {You need an open flame and real good aim.}

[Michael fires once at the propane tank. KA-BLAM!! It explodes in a massive fireball, ruining all of Michael's hard work on the front part of his father's car. Evelyn rolls to the side, her gun still in her hand. Behind Michael, Doug runs out of the cabin, keeping low. He and Michael race for Doug's jeep. Evelyn gets up and she is pissed! Michael gets in the driver's seat, Doug in the passenger's seat. Michael shoves Doug's head down as Evelyn fires at them, shattering the windshield.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Get down!

[She tries to fire again. Click! She's out of bullets. Michael starts the jeep and burns rubber away from there. Evelyn keeps pulling the trigger at them, hoping to get off a round, but to no avail. In the backdrop of the burning Charger, Evelyn watches them go, breathing heavily.]

CUT TO:

[Miami Street. Day. Michael drives the jeep into an empty, tree-lined street, speaking on the phone with Sam.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Yeah, Sam, I had to drive around, make sure we weren't followed. She could be anywhere now. Gotta go.

[He hangs up. Doug, still confused, looks at Michael.]

DOUG BAKER: What's happening?

MICHAEL WESTEN: [sighs loudly] We'll get to that. For now, I need to know why someone wants you dead.

DOUG BAKER: It's a long story.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Well, that's a long story that starts with Greenway Cargo, right? Gimme the short version for now.

DOUG BAKER: I was the controller. Uh, mostly wrote checks, did invoices. It was a job. I've been a CPA for fifteen years.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Need to get to the marked-for-death part.

DOUG BAKER: After a while, I realized I was... paying vendors I'd never heard of, for cargo that was never delivered.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Front companies.

DOUG BAKER: [agitated] They were into all kinds of stuff - weapons, ivory, human cargo. Th-that's what the FBI said. Anyway, they came to my house, said they were investigating the company, investigating me.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Unless you testify.

DOUG BAKER: I didn't want to get involved, but they said I'd go to jail. I said I'd think about it. Then... [grimaces] things started happening.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Things? What things?

DOUG BAKER: I had people following me... phone calls, guys watching my house. Then my wife... [sadly] goes out in my car. Said it was an accident, but... [trails off] I sent Jasper away, and I ran.

[Sam's Caddy pulls up near them.]

DOUG BAKER: Who are they?

MICHAEL WESTEN: They're your new best friends. Stay here.

[Michael gets out of the jeep. Sam and Fiona get out of the Caddy.]

SAM AXE: [scoffs] Well, what a piece of work she is. So, Evelyn used you to do the grunt work to track him down.

MICHAEL WESTEN: She shows up and finishes the job.

FIONA GLENANNE: ["told you so" voice] And when she kills him, everyone comes looking for you. She seemed so nice.

[Michael opens his mouth to argue, but Sam speaks up.]

SAM AXE: Mike, she went through Lucy to get to you.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Yeah. Call Lucy. Evelyn's not the type to leave loose ends.

SAM AXE: Right. [reaches into his pocket] Oh. Almost forgot.

[He pulls out a gun.]

SAM AXE: That's for you.

[Michael takes the gun and hands over the tampered one to Fiona.]

FIONA GLENANNE: Evelyn has the Charger?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Yeah. It's gonna need some work.

FIONA GLENANNE: And your gun?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Removed the trigger bar spring.

FIONA GLENANNE: [teasing] That sounds like something you would do. You guys really do have a lot in common, don't ya?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Look, Fi. I know you're enjoying this, but now's not the time to say "I told you so."

FIONA GLENANNE: This isn't like you, Michael.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [beat] I know. [deflated] Fiona, I need your help.

FIONA GLENANNE: Oh. You're not gonna handle this one on your own?

MICHAEL WESTEN: You just couldn't help yourself, could you?

FIONA GLENANNE: Sadly, no.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Take Doug back to the loft, lock him down tight. You can handle that, right?

FIONA GLENANNE: Have I ever let you down?

[She walks towards the jeep.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Be careful, Fi.

FIONA GLENANNE: Don't worry, Michael. _I_ never let my guard down.

[She gets inside the jeep. Michael goes over to Sam, who speaks on his cell phone.]

SAM AXE: [into phone] What the hell do you mean you can't get ahold of her? What, she doesn't have some kind of a ce...? [listens Yeah? All right. Well, keep trying.

[He hangs up and looks at Michael.]

SAM AXE: Mike, she's in some kind of a meeting with a new client that just called this morning.

[Michael heads towards the Cadillac.]

SAM AXE: I mean, it might be nothin'.

[Fiona drives off in the jeep.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: It's not gonna be nothin', Sam.

[They get into the Caddy and drive off.]

CUT TO:

[Miami Street. Day. The Caddy pulls up near Lucy's destination. Michael and Sam get out. Michael's phone rings. He answers it.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Hello.

EVELYN: [from phone] Michael, if I had known you were this much fun to work with, I would have come to Miami sooner.

[Michael nods to Sam to take a look around. Sam walks cautiously, looking around.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] I'm glad one of us is having fun.

EVELYN: [from phone] You're not missing the damsel in distress, are you?

[Michael looks around, at people at a nearby outdoor cafe.]

EVELYN: [from phone, acting scared] Michael, my son. I'm afraid. Please, Michael. Please.

[Michael notices a blonde lady at a table lower a newspaper. It's Evelyn - without the fake black eye and her hair tied back in a knot. She smiles at him.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [from phone] You changed.

EVELYN: [from phone] This is more my style.

[Michael stops and takes cover behind a pillar.]

EVELYN: [into phone] Oh, for crying out loud. I'm not gonna shoot you here.

[Michael starts walking towards her table.]

EVELYN: [from phone] Besides, I need you. You're the one who's going to tell me where Doug is.

[Michael hangs up as he gets closer. Evelyn reaches into her purse.]

EVELYN: Oh. [holds out the Charger keys] Here. Your car is in the campground parking lot.

[Michael still seems wary. He takes the keys from her.]

EVELYN: What are we gonna do to resolve our problem?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Well, I think our problems are a little different, but, yes, let's resolve them.

[He sits down next to her. She's already got a drink waiting for him.]

EVELYN: You know, you and I have a very special connection.

MICHAEL WESTEN: I'm not even sure who I'm talking to.

EVELYN: Oh, we met. In a manner of speaking. Istanbul, about six years ago.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [thinks, smiles as he recalls] July. Seven years ago. You took out those two diplomats.

EVELYN: Yes. You know how close you came to catching me? That was impressive. And ever since then, I've kept tabs on you. [clears her throat] You might say I've become... [shrugs] a fan. I heard you got burned, and got this gig in Miami, so the stars just kinda lined up.

MICHAEL WESTEN: I like the new look. And your bruise... [touching her face, below the left eye] it healed.

[She moves away from his hand.]

EVELYN: [pushes his hand away] Yeah. Well, that was temporary. I've been studying up on you. It's not easy with someone as secretive as you are, but, uh, 'course, things got a lot easier when you got burned. Not classified material anymore.

[Michael takes a sip of his drink.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Lucky you.

EVELYN: I learned something about your early years. [pouts mock-sympathetically] Your daddy was mean. Mmm. So I figured an abusive husband and a troubled but gifted son, well, that would be motivating.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [smiling] Enough about me. Let's talk about you.

EVELYN: No, I don't feel like it. [sips her drink] Y'know, I don't think that we should waste all your hard work. What say we split the fee? You just tell me where he is, I will do all the rest. It's easy money.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Evelyn, I appreciate all the effort you've put into this, but there comes a time where you have to walk away.

EVELYN: Come on. Isn't there something I can do to persuade you?

MICHAEL WESTEN: [beat, shakes his head] There's nothing you can do.

EVELYN: [chuckles] Know what I love about Miami? Apart from you, of course. [sips her drink] The cheap labor.

[Michael looks at her quizzically.]

EVELYN: You know, I can get a kid off the street to do a hit for about, mmm, grand.

[Michael doesn't like the sound of this.]

EVELYN: Well, if I flirt with him a little.

[Evelyn looks across Michael's shoulder.]

EVELYN: Say, now, isn't that Lucy?

[Michael turns around and sees Lucy walking near the road, in a pantsuit, on her way to the "meeting". A red Chevy Camaro swerves, some distance behind her, heading right towards her fast. Michael jumps up and runs towards her, as Evelyn watches emotionlessly. Lucy walks, blissfully unaware of the danger. Michael rushes towards her, brushing past passers-by.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Lucy!

[She doesn't hear him. She crosses the street, as the Camaro accelerates towards her. Michael jumps over a parked car, landing next to Lucy, startling her.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Lucy!

[He grabs her and tackles her to the ground, out of the way of the Camaro, which speeds past them. While people get up to look at the near-tragedy, Evelyn gets up. On the ground, still holding on to a wincing Lucy, Michael looks towards Evelyn. She gives him a cocky look and walks away.]

CUT TO:

[Stock footage of Miami.

FADE TO:

[Lucy's Office. Day. Michael tends to the scrape on Lucy's right elbow, while Sam stands behind.]

LUCY CHEN: Michael, I am so sorry.

MICHAEL WESTEN: It's not your fault.

LUCY CHEN: [rueful] Yes, it is. You taught me better than that. I was so stupid. I should have been more thorough. I got guys headed to her hotel right now.

[He applies a Band-aid to her elbow.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: It won't matter.

LUCY CHEN: I know. I just feel like I should do something.

MICHAEL WESTEN: You should. You should be careful, 'cause she's still out there.

[His cell phone rings.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Right on time.

[He answers it.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Yeah.

EVELYN: [from phone] Change your mind?

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Enough of this. You want to deal, you deal with me. You leave Lucy out of it.

EVELYN: [from phone] Done. Lucy has no more to fear from me. You see? I can be reasonable. Of course, I still have a job to do, and the next target will have to be Sam or Fiona or - I know - mommy. Sooner or later, I'll find someone you care about more than Doug. So you call me when you want it to stop.

[He hangs up.]

SAM AXE: She's not leaving town, is she?

MICHAEL WESTEN: That'd be a no.

CUT TO:

[Michael's Loft. Day. The gang keeps an eye on an increasingly-agitated Doug.]

DOUG BAKER: If she knows all this about you, she'll probably come here.

MICHAEL WESTEN: She won't play this out on my turf. She'll keep the pressure on until she gets an opening.

DOUG BAKER: I-I can't believe this. I'm a CPA, for Christ's sake.

SAM AXE: CPA brought down Al Capone. There's a reason why the feds want you to testify.

[Fiona, holding her shotgun close, looks focused.]

FIONA GLENANNE: I say we hunt her down. Ammunition's cheap.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Fi, if we go out there without a plan, we're exposed. She's more than happy to keep killing people until we hand Doug over.

FIONA GLENANNE: She can come after me. I'm ready.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Yeah? What about Sam?

SAM AXE: I'm game, Mike.

MICHAEL WESTEN: What about if she comes after my mom, my brother, Doug's son Jasper?

FIONA GLENANNE: So we sit here and wait?

SAM AXE: For once, she's right, Mike. We gotta do somethin'.

MICHAEL WESTEN: We're gonna hand him over to the US Attorney, get him into Witness Protection.

DOUG BAKER: Won't she still come after you?

MICHAEL WESTEN: We'll deal with that later. Sam, I need you to call the US Attorney. Tell them we're bringing Doug in tomorrow morning.

SAM AXE: [nods] I'm on it.

MICHAEL WESTEN: And, uh, somebody needs to go to my mom see that she's safe, make her house secure.

SAM AXE: Think she's cooked dinner yet?

MICHAEL WESTEN: [smiling] I'm sure she'll heat somethin' up for you, Sam.

SAM AXE: Well, then I'm on that too.

[Putting down his beer bottle, he gets up and leaves.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Fi, I need you to prep an armed escort.

[Wordlessly, Fiona gets up, holding her shotgun, and leaves to do so.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Doug. I need you to stay away from the windows.

[Doug holds up both arms submissively and moves away from the window.]

CUT TO:

[Madeline's House. Day. Sam closes the blinds on the windows, as Madeline watches, smoking on yet another ciggy.]

MADELINE WESTEN: You say this is just a precaution?

SAM AXE: Oh, yeah. It's nothin' to worry about. Um, say, um, this is a little embarrassing, but, uh, me and my lady friend, uh, had a falling out, and, well, Mike thought maybe it would be okay if I, uh, crashed here for the night.

[Blowing out smoke, she looks at him skeptically.]

MADELINE WESTEN: Sam, I'm not an idiot. You wanna tell me what's goin' on?

SAM AXE: Well, see, there was this lady, and she was making some threats.

MADELINE WESTEN: [nonplussed] Against me?

SAM AXE: Not specifically. Well, I mean, your name came up, but it was more like a hypothetical type thing, so it's nothing to worry about, but Mike wanted me to stay here and give you some, y'know, self-defense pointers in case I had to leave.

[She picks up the big shotgun he had brought over.]

MADELINE WESTEN: You gonna leave this here with me when you go?

SAM AXE: Okay. Be careful, okay? 'Cause that's loaded.

[She fiddles a bit with it.]

MADELINE WESTEN: Yeah. Michael's father had a Winchester single-shot. I think I may still have it.

[She half-pumps it and hands it back.]

MADELINE WESTEN: So you want a beer?

SAM AXE: [deadpan] You kiddin'?

[She goes to get one, as Sam follows her happily.]

CUT TO:

[Stock footage of Miami. Night.]

CUT TO:

[Michael's Loft. Night. As Michael fills up cartridges on the bed, Fiona comes downstairs. She walks to him.]

FIONA GLENANNE: Doug is sleeping peacefully.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [inferring] You gave him something.

FIONA GLENANNE: [smiling] Maybe.

[He looks at her.]

FIONA GLENANNE: Well, half of somethin'.

[She helps him get his guns ready.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Sam got in touch with his buddy at the US Attorney's. Bringing Doug in tomorrow mornin'.

FIONA GLENANNE: Great. We can talk finally.

MICHAEL WESTEN: There's nothin' to talk about. You were right. I was wrong. I'm sorry.

FIONA GLENANNE: It isn't that simple, Michael. You think you can let the job be who you are... all you are, and you can't. It's dangerous to think that you can. I know I can be... passionate, but I'm good at what I do.

MICHAEL WESTEN: I know.

[He puts her mangled hairpin on the bed.]

FIONA GLENANNE: It's no secret that things between us have been...

MICHAEL WESTEN: ... little rocky.

FIONA GLENANNE: Isn't easy for me either. Evelyn comes along, and she's attractive, sweet, needy. Don't deny it.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Fine.

FIONA GLENANNE: Isn't it interesting that she turned out to be... well, who she turned out to be? What shall we make of that?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Made your point, Fi.

FIONA GLENANNE: Did I?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Yep. You did.

FIONA GLENANNE: What about DC? You still goin'?

MICHAEL WESTEN: I have to. If I don't, it won't be long before Cowan sends someone else here to kill me. I need him to know I can get to him too and I need him to know right now.

FIONA GLENANNE: And you need help and you know it.

MICHAEL WESTEN: I don't think that's a good idea.

FIONA GLENANNE: Is that a tactical judgment or a personal one?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Both. [looks at her, seriously] Everybody I know is in danger right now. Everyone I'm close to.

[They look at each other. Fiona picks up her hairpin and bends it into a U. She holds it up metaphorically for Michael.]

FIONA GLENANNE: Well...

[She ties up her hair and holds it in place with the hairpin.]

FIONA GLENANNE: I'm willing to risk it... if you are.

[Michael looks at her gratefully and sighs.]

CUT TO:

[Michael's Loft. Day. Fiona loads up her shotgun, while Michael loads up cartridges. Sam walks by, carrying a duffel bag, while an edgy Doug hangs around, wearing Michael's shirt.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: How's my mom?

SAM AXE: Locked up cozy and tight with a cigarette and a shotgun, ready to kill anything that comes through the door.

[He opens a duffel bag and hands Doug a bulletproof vest.]

SAM AXE: Here you go, Doug. My lucky vest.

MICHAEL WESTEN: It'll look great over my shirt.

DOUG BAKER: Thanks.

SAM AXE: It's a little worn, but it'll do the trick.

[Doug notices some holes in the vest.]

DOUG BAKER: [alarmed] Are these bullet holes?

SAM AXE: [smiling] Yeah. I broke it in for you.

[Looking at Michael nervously, Doug puts on the vest.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: It's a short ride to the US Attorney's office.

SAM AXE: Just think of it as a precaution. It's like a seat belt.

FIONA GLENANNE: Yeah. A seat belt that smells like Old Spice and bourbon.

SAM AXE: Easy now.

[Michael helps Doug with the vest, while Fiona and Sam get their guns ready.]

            {Assassination's one percent shooting, ninety-nine percent preparation. Anticipating moves, devising approaches, recruiting sources, finding the perfect opportunity so the bullet's almost an afterthought. Usually that's when a target's on the move when there are too many variables to control them all.}

FIONA GLENANNE: We should get out of here.

DOUG BAKER: Michael, whatever happens, I just wanted to say thank you.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Yeah, you can thank me by keeping your head down and staying away from windows, okay?

[Michael grabs him by the scruff of his neck and ushers him towards the door.]

DOUG BAKER: Got it.

CUT TO:

[Miami Streets. Day. The armed escort moves along the streets. Sam's Caddy drives up in front, while Michael and Fiona bring up the rear in an SUV.]

            {There are ways to lessen the risk. An armed escort, taking an unpredictable route to your destination, having backup in a trail car.}

CUT TO:

[High-rise building terrace. Day. Evelyn, in a gray pantsuit, walks out onto the terrace. She kneels near the ledge, overlooking the US Attorney's office, and opens up a briefcase, in which dismantled parts of a sniper rifle are fixed.]

            {But ultimately, as long as the assassin, knows where you're going, they have the upper hand.}

[Removing her jacket, she drapes it over the briefcase lid. She starts to assemble the rifle.]

SPLIT-SCREEN:

[The armed escort on the left, Evelyn on the right. Doug looks back top ensure Fiona and Michael are right behind.]

[Finished, with a left-handed grip, Evelyn aims the sniper rifle towards the sidewalk, near the US Attorney's office.]

[Below, Sam's Caddy and Fiona's SUV pull up, right where she's aiming. Sam gets out first, Fiona next. Sam goes over to Doug's side to get him out.]

[Above, Evelyn peers through the scope, preparing to fire.]

[Below, Sam opens the door for Doug.]

SAM AXE: The point is the thing works. It's one of the few things in my life that's never let me down.

[Above, Evelyn adjusts the sight on her scope.]

            {It's impossible to stop a good assassin from finding an opening and taking a shot. The best you can do is control where the best opening is.}

[Below, a bunch of suits approach Sam, Fiona, Doug and... someone's missing.]

            {And sometimes that's enough.}

[Above...]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Drop it.

[Evelyn freezes, her face still emotionless. Michael stands a short distance away from her, aiming his gun at her. She continues to hold the rifle aimed towards her target.]

EVELYN: You set me up. [smiles, looking at him] Bravo.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Put it down, Evelyn.

[Evelyn looks down, watching Doug being escorted towards the office by Sam, Fiona and the suits. She looks at Michael.]

EVELYN: Hey. I could still do this. Did I tell you how much this job pays? You could buy someplace decent to live, even at Miami prices.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [serious as a brain tumor] Put-the rifle-down.

[She looks down again, and sees that the escort party is now covered by the trees. She has no shot. Nodding in resignation, she lowers the rifle.]

EVELYN: How'd you know I'd be here?

MICHAEL WESTEN: I figured you had a source in the US Attorney's office. You knew Doug was thinking about testifying.

DOUG BAKER: Now, I count six different vantage points with a better view of that entrance. How'd you know I'd be at this one?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Istanbul wasn't that long ago. You like rooftops over windows. You like angles with the target on your right-hand side, 'cause you're left-handed.

EVELYN: That's right. I knew I liked you.

[Keeping the gun on her, he throws a thick cable tie towards her.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Put it on.

[She picks up the cable tie.]

EVELYN: [scoffs jovially] Michael, is this what you really want, huh? Helping out civilians with their little problems, trying to get your government job back? It's pathetic. You're better than that.

[Tying the cable tie around her wrists, she uses her teeth to lock it firm. Michael lowers his gun and holds his hand out, beckoning her.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Let's go. We have a big day ahead of us. I gotta turn you in. There'll be questions. It'll be past lunch before we're done.

[Smirking, she sits on the terrace railing.]

EVELYN: Turn me in? A lot of secrets, a lot of enemies. Think it'd be a short stay, don't you? Now, don't you think we could come to some arrangement?

MICHAEL WESTEN: [smiling] I don't think so.

EVELYN: [seriously] Now be honest with me. If circumstances were different, do you think that we could... [trails off with a sigh]

[She looks at him appealingly, for an answer.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Not in this lifetime.

EVELYN: [desolately] Perhaps the next one.

[Looking at him straight in the eye, she lets herself go over the edge down to the ground below. Michael just stands, transfixed, though not all that shocked. There's a crash below, followed by a woman's scream. Cars honk and people yell out below. Michael goes over to the edge to look.]

CUT TO:

[Bar. Day. Michael sits pensively at a table. Lucy comes over and joins him.]

LUCY CHEN: Indictments came down yesterday.

MICHAEL WESTEN: That was quick.

LUCY CHEN: They found the leak in the US Attorney's office. And Evelyn? Wow. They're gonna be workin' up her file for years. She was a very, very bad girl. I managed to keep you out of it... so far. It's gonna take some work.

MICHAEL WESTEN: I appreciate that, Lucy.

LUCY CHEN: [smiling] Don't say I never did anything for you.

MICHAEL WESTEN: I never would.

LUCY CHEN: Did she say anything... before...

MICHAEL WESTEN: She wished that things had turned out... differently. Tell me about Doug and Jasper.

LUCY CHEN: On their way to a new life in an undisclosed location. He's gonna have to come back for trial.

[She sighs as she reaches into her purse and pulls out a photo, which she hands to Michael.]

LUCY CHEN: Wanted you to have that.

[Michael looks at the photo of Doug and Jasper, posing happily for the camera. He turns it over. It says "Thank you" on the back.]

LUCY CHEN: And I have another present for you.

[She fishes out a file from her purse.]

LUCY CHEN: It's your new identity.

[Michael takes the folder and opens it. There's a driver's license, passport, birth certificate for a "Michael Turner".]

LUCY CHEN: It should get you to DC or wherever.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [sighs heavily] Thank you, Lucy.

LUCY CHEN: It's the least I could do. What about your car? Whatever it costs, I wanna reimburse you.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Don't worry about it. [holding up the folder] I'm not gonna be in Miami that much longer.

LUCY CHEN: I'll see you again?

MICHAEL WESTEN: [nods, smiling] Maybe.

[Smiling at each other, they get up. She kisses him on the cheek and hugs him warmly. Sam comes up, just as she leaves.]

SAM AXE: Lucy.

LUCY CHEN: Sam.

[She leaves. Sam sits down next to Michael.]

SAM AXE: So, is that your new ID?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Yep. I could get into the White House pressroom with these documents.

SAM AXE: I don't think you're gonna need it.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Why's that?

SAM AXE: Just got a call from a buddy. One of the guys I asked to keep an eye out on this burn notice business. You might wanna rethink your trip to DC.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [looking at him] Why? What'd he say?

SAM AXE: The guy who burned you... turns out you don't need to go up there to see him, 'cause... well, he's coming down here to see you.

MICHAEL WESTEN: "See me"? What does that mean?

SAM AXE: I don't know. Just a heads-up.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Well, looks like I'm gonna have to get the Charger fixed after all.

[Camera zooms onto Michael's face as he puts on his "Victory" sunglasses.]

CUT TO:

[End credits.] FADE TO BLACK.

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