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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.]

DISSOLVE TO:

[Michael's Loft. Day. Michael does inclined sit-ups, shirtless, grimacing with every crunch. The door opens and someone walks inside, carrying something. Upside-down, Michael holds his gun out at the intruder. It's Sam, carrying a bucket of friend chicken.]

SAM AXE: Whoa! Mike, easy.

MICHAEL WESTEN: That'll kill you, you know.

SAM AXE: Yeah, no kiddin'.

MICHAEL WESTEN: No, the bucket of trans fat you got there.

[Sam walks to the kitchen bench, while Michael pulls himself upright.]

SAM AXE: Did Veronica call you? 'Cause if you're taking her side on this whole cholesterol thing, it's gonna put a serious strain on our friendship.

MICHAEL WESTEN: No, you can binge in peace, Sam.

[Sam opens the fridge and pulls out a beer.]

SAM AXE: Yeah, well, thanks. But that's not the only reason why I'm here, y'know.

[He pulls some scraps of paper out of his pocket and looks through them.]

SAM AXE: I got a job offer.

[While he looks through the scraps, Michael (still shirtless) comes over to the fridge to grab a yogurt.]

SAM AXE: [finds what he's looking for] Uh, here we go. Pete, one of my buddies from the SEAL teams, he's got a lady who's got some problems. She called him 'cause he's in Special Forces. But he's got this blood pressure thing, so he called me. What do you say?

MICHAEL WESTEN: [a bit breathless] My plate's a little full, Sam.

SAM AXE: What, you mean with this whole Philip Cowan thing? Mike, you're doing armed sit-ups. I'm worried about you. I thought this might get your mind off it.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Cowan burned me. Cowan sent someone to kill me. Now he dropped off grid. I need my mind focused on this.

SAM AXE: All right. Fair enough. You mind if I run with this? The money's not bad.

MICHAEL WESTEN: No. Knock yourself out.

SAM AXE: All right.

[Sam takes a piece of chicken and, almost lovingly, sinks his teeth into it. Michael watches him eat and looks down at his yogurt. His cell phone beeps. He checks the new message. It reads, "Bayshore Park Fountain 1:00".]

SAM AXE: What's that?

[Michael sighs and puts the phone down on the bench so Sam can see it. He starts to walk towards the stairs. Sam looks at the message.]

SAM AXE: Well, it looks like your buddy Cowan finally made contact. You want me to come with, back you up?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Sure. Bring your bucket of fat.

SAM AXE: I'll bring my chicken too. [takes a big bite] Oh, yeah.

CUT TO:

[Stock footage of Miami. Day.]

CUT TO:

[Bayshore Park. Day. It's a beautiful sunny day. Kids go on their scooters past a female balloon-vendor. A yoga group stretches. A street artist paints another masterpiece. Michael stands near the fountain. His cell phone rings. He answers it.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Yeah, Sam.

SAM AXE: [from phone] Well, it's the witching hour.

INTERCUT WITH: [Streetside. Day. Sam, a cell phone in his one hand, chicken leg in the other, speaks to Michael.]

SAM AXE: [into phone] Looks like your buddy didn't show.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] He wouldn't just not show up. He's watching.

SAM AXE: [from phone] You think?

[Michael looks at a high-rise building, across the park.]

SAM AXE: [from phone] Where do you think he would be?

[Michael looks at another high-rise.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: I know where I'd be.

[Michael looks at the next building - "Hollywood Bread Building". He hangs up and runs towards it.]

[On the terrace of the building, Michael runs outside and looks around. He notices something stuck to the terrace wall. He walks up to it and grabs it. It's an envelope, containing a greeting card. Opening the card, he sees a newspaper clipping inside. The card greeting says:

                                      YOU MAY TRAVEL THE WORLD
                                      FROM END TO END
                                      BUT YOU'LL FIND NO
                                      THAN TO MAKE A NEW FRIEND.

He looks at the clipping, the headline of which reads, "BELGRADE WEAPONS DEPOT DESTROYED", by H.J. Ross, Unassociated Press. Michael looks around and then over the ledge, down at the driveway below him. A balding middle-aged man stands there, near his car. He looks up at Michael. He is...]                                      

                                                           PHILIP COWAN
                                                 MAN WHO BURNED MICHAEL

[Cowan points to the side. Michael looks to where he's pointing - Sam, leaning against his Cadillac, eating his chicken. Cowan wags his finger at Michael, then gets into his car and drives away, as Michael watches emotionlessly.]

CUT TO:

[Opening Title.]

CUT TO:

[Michael's Loft. Day. Michael sits with Fiona and Sam.]

SAM AXE: What do you think he wants, Mike?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Think he wants to meet.

FIONA GLENANNE: So why not just meet?

MICHAEL WESTEN: He doesn't trust me. Fair enough. I don't trust him.

[Michael looks at the greeting card and the newspaper cutout. The burn notice dossier is nearby, opened to the page containing information on Michael's operation in Belgrade, Serbia.]

            {The first step in dealing with a covert op, is establishing a way to communicate privately, a code. Could be a key-encrypted cipher. But, really, all you need is a base  of knowledge that you share.}

MICHAEL WESTEN: He knows my entire career, falsified a good bit of it. It shouldn't be too difficult for him to figure out a way to talk to me.

FIONA GLENANNE: [teasing] Ah, the mating dance of the spy. It's a wonder spies ever get close enough to kill each other, isn't it?

SAM AXE: [checking his watch] Oh, gotta go.

FIONA GLENANNE: Veronica has you on a pretty tight leash, huh?

SAM AXE: Hardy-har. I'm meeting with a prospective client. Mike, buddy, you call me if you need anything. Fiona... just keep doin' whatever it is you do.

[He gets up and walks out. Fiona smiles cheerfully at Michael.]

CUT TO:

[Stock footage of Miami. Day.]

DISSOLVE TO:

[Marina. Day. Sam and a pretty blonde (the client) walk along a pier.]

THE CLIENT: Thanks for meeting me. I-I thought there were two of you.

SAM AXE: Uh, yeah, usually, but my partner's on somethin' else right now. But it's fine.

[The client is...]

                                                           GILLIAN
                                                      THE CLIENT

SAM AXE: So, um, Pete says you're having some trouble?

GILLIAN WALSH: Uh, I'm a supervisor at SXG. We build planes, satellites, weapons systems. Government contracts. Been working there ten years. [chokes] It's a good job.

[She starts to weep softly.]

SAM AXE: Are you okay?

GILLIAN WALSH: [sobbing] I...

SAM AXE: Look, it's okay. I'm like a doctor or a lawyer... well, not a lawyer. But the point is, you can tell me whatever you want, just between the two of us.

GILLIAN WALSH: My friend Melissa, we work together. She was having an affair. Her husband, Kent, is abusive, controlling. The only time she has alone is at the office. But to sign in guests, you have to have security clearance, so...

SAM AXE: So you did her a favor.

GILLIAN WALSH: [nods] Her boyfriend stole files, took photos of them together in the building. I'm the one who signed him in. I could lose my clearance, my job, go to jail even. He's blackmailing us.

SAM AXE: What does this guy want from you?

GILLIAN WALSH: I have to sign for packages, and Melissa smuggles them out.

SAM AXE: Any idea what's in these packages?

GILLIAN WALSH: They're from a subsidiary of SXG in Turkey. I checked one. It's-it's drugs. I don't know what kind.

SAM AXE: Well, that part of the world, it's probably heroin.

GILLIAN WALSH: There's another one coming in this week. I just wanna get out.

SAM AXE: I'll see what I can do.

CUT TO:

[Kent and Melissa's House. Day. Sam and Gillian speak to Gillian's friend outside in the yard.]

MELISSA FONTENOT: [nervously] I-I don't want help.

[The friend is...]

                                                           MELISSA

                                                   THE OTHER CLIENT

MELISSA FONTENOT: I-I wanna keep my secret. I have to.

SAM AXE: I don't wanna get anybody in trouble here. I'm not here to judge. I've made plenty of mistakes myself, God only knows. [chuckles]

MELISSA FONTENOT: Listen. I was lonely. And Dave was... I made a mistake. I just... I wanna put it behind me.

SAM AXE: Okay. "Dave"... uh, Gillian was saying that you met this Dave at a bar. Which one?

MELISSA FONTENOT: [shakes her head, getting anxiously] I don't know. I-I don't... I don't remember.

[A black truck pulls up outside.]

MELISSA FONTENOT: My husband's home.

[She starts to usher them out.]

MELISSA FONTENOT: Come on, please. You have to go.

[Sam and Gillian walk out the back gate.]

SAM AXE: Okay. You know how to get ahold of me.

[Wordlessly, Melissa closes the gate and goes inside.]

SAM AXE: [to Gillian] Don't worry about it. We'll just fill in the blanks ourselves, I guess. Now, listen, when was the first time Melissa ever talked about her new friend Dave?

[They walk off.]

CUT TO:

[Madeline's House. Day. Madeline has a cigarette between her lips (no surprise there). She looks really tense as she dumps some pills into her palm. Behind her, the door opens and Michael enters, his hand on his Sig, tucked into his pant, behind the waist, covered by his shirt.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Mom? I got here as fast as I could. What's the problem?

MADELINE WESTEN: [voice cracking] I got a phone call, Michael. I was scared.

[Michael locks the door and closes the blinds.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Phone call? What kinda phone call?

MADELINE WESTEN: It was for you. Some man. He wouldn't leave his name or his number - nothing. All he said was, "Van Buren Avenue", and then he hangs up! What's that supposed to mean?

MICHAEL WESTEN: [smiling, shrugging it off] Oh, it was probably just a friend.

MADELINE WESTEN: That isn't how friends behave, Michael. All right? The way he said it scared me...

[Michael hears a sound near the backdoor. He grabs his mother and whirls her around, positioning himself between her and the intruder, his hand set to pull out the gun. Madeline doesn't think too much of her son's selfless gesture and lets him know it.]

MADELINE WESTEN: Ow! Michael!

[Somebody knocks on the backdoor. They look towards the door, Madeline frightened, Michael tensed.]

NATE WESTEN: [calling] Ma?

[Michael and Madeline relax, a little annoyed though.]

NATE WESTEN: I lost my key!

[He knocks some more. Madeline looks at Michael.]

MADELINE WESTEN: [deadpan] Worried it was your friend?

[Michael goes to the back door to let his wayward brother in. Nate stands outside, clean-shaven and well-dressed, for once.]

NATE WESTEN: Hey, Bro. You look tired.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Hey, Nate. You look clean. You shaved the ferret off your face.

[Unable to think of a suitable comeback quickly enough, Nate walks inside, past Michael. Michael takes a quick look outside and closes the backdoor. They walk to the kitchen counter, facing their mother, who stands uneasily on the other side.]

NATE WESTEN: So what couldn't wait, Ma? I had to walk out on a really big investor.

MICHAEL WESTEN: What do you mean by "investor"?

NATE WESTEN: Yeah, a buddy of mine, he's got a process that [smiling proudly] recycles titanium golf clubs. It's gonna totally revolutionize the golf club...

[Michael closes his eyes and rolls his head, in annoyance. Nate notices Michael's barely-hidden disinterest.]

NATE WESTEN: Forget it.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Mom, why did you call Nate?

MADELINE WESTEN: I called your brother too because I was scared.

NATE WESTEN: [getting serious] What's goin' on here?

MADELINE WESTEN: A strange man phoned here. Michael won't tell me anything about him because [gesturing with her arms, deep mocking voice] it's all a big mystery.

[SHe lights another cigarette with her old one.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: It's just better if I don't get into it. Trust me. I know what I'm doing. There's nothing to worry about. This man who called, he just wants to talk.

MADELINE WESTEN: [gesturing to herself and Nate] But you can't talk to us?

[Nate looks at Michael, agreeing with his mother. Michael rolls his eyes as she continues her tirade.]

MADELINE WESTEN: You know, in twenty years, Michael, I have never asked any questions. But this is my home. It's not like it's some war off in some country that I've never even heard of. [gesturing to all of them] This-this is your family.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [sarcastically] Ooh, I know.

[Grumpily, she turns and walks away into another room. Nate looks at Michael and mouths "WOW!".]

NATE WESTEN: Okay. You can tell me. I mean, seriously, what's goin' on here?

[Michael pulls out his Sig Sauer and checks the magazine.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Nate, I need you to watch Mom. It's just a precaution. I need you to lay low for a while. Keep a low profile. Don't leave the house. You can do that, right?

[Racking the slide and thumbing off the safety, he hands it to Nate.]

NATE WESTEN: [softly] Yeah.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Safety's off.

[Nate looks at the gun and smirks.]

NATE WESTEN: 'Course, I... y'know, I will be taking time off work...

[Michael sees where this is going. Rolling his eyes, he pulls out his wallet.]

NATE WESTEN: And I'll need to get some, you know, supplies in case things get dicey around here.

[With a sigh, Michael pulls out some money and slaps it on the kitchen counter.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: "Recycled titanium", huh? [mocking] What is that, a name of a horse?

CUT TO:

[Stock footage of Miami. Day.]

DISSOLVE TO:

[Bar. Day. Sam sits at a table, having lunch and a beer. Fiona walks casually up to the table. Sam stands up to greet her.]

SAM AXE: Well, Fiona. Hey, how you doin'?

[He gives her a really awkward half-hug, as she looks at him suspiciously.]

SAM AXE: Thanks for comin'. Boy, you look great. Sit down.

[They both sit.]

FIONA GLENANNE: So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this invitation? [grabs his beer off the table] Am I to be your new drinking buddy?

[She takes a swig.]

SAM AXE: [chuckles] Yeah. Uh, it's this job that I'm on. I need some backup. And Mike's mind is pretty much on this whole Cowan business. So I thought...

FIONA GLENANNE: ... of me.

SAM AXE: [beat, big smile] I thought of you.

[She laughs, sarcastically.]

SAM AXE: Yes, that's what I thought.

FIONA GLENANNE: What's the job?

SAM AXE: Well, it's a blackmail thing. And one of the victims got spooked, so she's not saying where she met the bad guy. But I think I got enough to put it all together. She met him out at a bar, and I have an approximate date.

[She looks at him, expecting more. He nods at her, confidently.]

FIONA GLENANNE: That's not much to go on.

SAM AXE: I got a guy who's pulling her credit card statement. Find the charge, find the bar, find the guy.

FIONA GLENANNE: And you need a wingman.

SAM AXE: [smiling] Damn straight, skippy.

FIONA GLENANNE: My fee is five hundred up front, expenses, and an hourly as we go.

[Sam's expression drops as she talks numbers. In fact, the first number pretty much takes the wind out of his sails.]

SAM AXE: You never charge Mike.

FIONA GLENANNE: [smiling] Oh, I expect other things from Michael.

[Sam looks at her sideways.]

CUT TO:

[Van Buren Avenue. Day. Michael walks on the crowded sidewalk, past a couple kissing passionately. He's on the lookout for Philip Cowan or a sign. His cell phone rings. He answers it.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Yeah, Fi.

FIONA GLENANNE: [from phone] Sam just hired me for a job. I thought he was gonna be ill.

[Michael, not quite interested, keeps looking for Cowan's sign. He sees a pretty girl smile at him as she passes by. A guy standing at the parking lot looks at Michael, then checks the time on his wristwatch.]

FIONA GLENANNE: [from phone] It was so much fun, Michael. I wish you could have been there.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Cowan sent me a message. I'm searching the cafes of South Beach for a cutout.

FIONA GLENANNE: [from phone] Don't you think he'll come himself? He seems eager to meet you.

[Michael looks at a guy, hunched over a payphone, cradling the receiver as he jots something down.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] I doubt it. He'll send someone. I did something similar in Belgrade years ago. Long story.

[He passes by a book store, where a weasely guy, leans on a row of books, reading a tourist guide.]

FIONA GLENANNE: [from phone] Have fun. There's a reason I never had the patience to be a spy.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] All right.

[He hangs up and then just stops.]

            {The truly paranoid don't go to meetings themselves.}

[He smiles and turns to the book store, looking at the weasely guy, who's reading a "Madison, Wisconsin" tourist guide (MW, get it?).]

            {They use a cutout, someone unrelated to them, hired to show a prearranged sign and deliver a message.}

[Michael smiles broadly as he walks towards the guy.]

            {The sign is something innocuous but hard to miss. My favorite is the tourist guide for Madison, Wisconsin.}

[Michael looks around and then stands near the guy, picking up a book.]

            {No one will look at it twice, but unless I'm in the Midwest, I know they're waiting for Michael Westen.}

WEASELY GUY: [sounding harried] You here for the envelope?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Who are you?

WEASELY GUY: [smirks] Ain't nobody, man. Look, uh, some guy gives me a hundred bucks. [pulls out an envelope from the guide] He says give this to the first guy that comes by and bugs me. You are buggin' me.

[Michael yanks the envelope from the guy, who walks away. Opening it, he pulls out another greeting card, which says "LOOKING FORWARD TO OUR SPECIAL DAY....". He opens the card and sees "Thursday 6 PM. Alone" written. There's a newspaper clipping inside, which reads "TERRORIST KILLED IN BUDAPEST". Closing the card, he walks off.]

CUT TO:

[Bar. Day. Sam and Fiona enter the bar, where men and their... men relax and get intimate.]

FIONA GLENANNE: So this is where Melissa met her boyfriend.

SAM AXE: Seems a little unlikely. But she definitely paid for drinks here. How do you wanna handle this?

FIONA GLENANNE: [folding her arms] Well, I think the balls are in your court.

SAM AXE: Oh, great. The hell am I paying you for anyway?

[He walks towards the crowded bar counter and addresses the bartender.]

SAM AXE: Hey, how you doin'? [pulls out a photo] Um, I'm looking for a friend of mine. [hands it to the bartender] Just wanna see if you can help me out. Handsome guy right there. [addressing the guys around the bar] Hey. How you guys doin'?

[He feels a bit awkward as they check him out.]

SAM AXE: How about those Dolphins, huh?

[A bit later, Sam raises his glass to the bartender and his new friends at the counter, while he sits at a table with Fiona.]

FIONA GLENANNE: [eating her Martini olives] So how did we do?

SAM AXE: Well, uh, my new friends have informed me that the mysterious "Dave" is actually a hustler named... [checks a paper napkin] Ray Wagoner.

FIONA GLENANNE: So he was just stepping up to the exciting world of blackmail and smack dealing.

SAM AXE: Yeah. I guess he's, uh, broken a few hearts and lifted a few wallets here. [holding up the paper napkin] But I have his address.

FIONA GLENANNE: [teasing] You know, Sam, I have to say... you were captivating over there.

SAM AXE: [chuckling] Well, hey, free drink is a free drink, baby. They liked the shirt.

[Fiona raises her eyebrows.]

CUT TO:

[Ray Wagoner's House. Day. Sam and Fiona walk up to the door. Sam knocks. Rock music can be heard inside. Sam jerks his head, signaling his intent to scope out the premises. Fiona hangs back, lazily. Sam goes round the house and sees a Harley Davidson parked. He looks around and takes some time to admire the bike. In the polished frame of the bike, he notices a guy in a wife-beater creeping up behind him, ready to bean him with a two-by-four. Sam whirls around. The guy takes a wild swing at Sam. Sam ducks just in time and connects with a hard left to the guy's face. The guy drops to the floor, nursing his right jaw. He is...]

                                                           RAY WAGONER
                                                             HUSTLER

[Sam picks up the two-by-four and rests it against his shoulder. Fiona walks up.]

SAM AXE: That's not a very nice way to say hello. Let's try that again. I'm Sam. Now you say, "Hi, I'm Ray."

RAY WAGONER: What do you want?

FIONA GLENANNE: [sighs] We want you to find a new way to import your heroin.

[Smiling, Ray gets up and looks at them.]

RAY WAGONER: I seriously don't know what you're talkin' about.

SAM AXE: Gillian Walsh, Melissa Fontenot. You're gonna leave 'em alone.

[Fiona holds up a picture of Ray and Melissa, hugging as they smile at the camera.]

RAY WAGONER: Her? I never messed with her. We went on a couple dates. All she ever wanted to do was take pictures in some building. Hundred bucks a shot.

[Sam and Fiona exchange looks.]

SAM AXE: She took the pictures? Yeah, and her husband paid. Some guy, flattop. Weird. I didn't ask questions.

[With a sigh, Sam tosses the two-by-four back to Ray. He and Fiona take their leave.]

SAM AXE: Melissa lied to us.

FIONA GLENANNE: I knew it.

SAM AXE: You did not.

FIONA GLENANNE: I suspected.

SAM AXE: Suspected doesn't count. We gotta talk to Mike.

CUT TO:

[Cafe. Day. Sitting at an outdoor table, Sam and Fiona give Gillian the bad news.]

GILLIAN WALSH: If she was setting me up, why would she be in the photos? Why not just steal the files?

SAM AXE: [chuckling] Well, she's the only one who could get the packages out. If Melissa wasn't being [air-quotes] "blackmailed", you'd know that she was in on it.

GILLIAN WALSH: [closes her eyes ruefully] Oh, my God. I-I can't believe I fell for this.

SAM AXE: Don't be so hard on yourself. Double blackmail's a classic. It's as old as the pyramids, y'know. You pose as a fellow target of your own blackmail scheme. That way, you'll always know what the victims are up to. Pros use it all the time.

GILLIAN WALSH: So what do we do?

SAM AXE: We gotta get near Kent. If we can get some evidence linking him to the heroin, we can do our own blackmail, get you off the hook. You know, start fighting fire with fire.

GILLIAN WALSH: But Melissa knows I hired you.

SAM AXE: We'll have to make her think that the investigation's stalled. Plus, we're gonna get some more help, a little relief from the bullpen.

GILLIAN WALSH: Well, do whatever you need to do. I'll-I'll pay more. I'll dip into my savings.

FIONA GLENANNE: Don't worry about the money, Gillian. We gotcha covered.

[Gillian smiles gratefully at Fiona. Sam doesn't look all that thrilled, considering he'll have to pay Fiona out of his own pocket.]

CUT TO:

[Michael's Loft, Outside. Day. Michael removes the last strip of tape from the Charger's new windshield. The Charger's hood is up. Sam walks towards Michael, turning to gesture to Gillian to stay in the Caddy.]

SAM AXE: Hey, Mike. She runnin' again?

MICHAEL WESTEN: More or less.

SAM AXE: How's your dance with Cowan goin'?

MICHAEL WESTEN: [sighs] I don't know. It's hard to trust someone under these circumstances. But I don't have a choice, do I?

SAM AXE: Yeah. I gotta tell you, that part of the job, I don't miss it. You guys set a meet yet?

MICHAEL WESTEN: I think so. He sent an article about a job I did in Budapest. I met a contact there under the steps of city hall.

[Spraying some window cleaner on the windshield, he tosses the can to Sam on the other side.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: I assume that's where he wants to meet.

[Michael tosses Sam the roll of tissue, so he can clean the other side. They start cleaning the windshield.]

SAM AXE: Wow. Cowan gets the gold star for clever, doesn't he?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Or he just likes watching me run around in this heat.

SAM AXE: Want me to come with you?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Thanks, but I think he wants a little alone time with me.

SAM AXE: Ah. Yeah, hey. Uh, listen, Mike. Um, this new client of mine, Gillian... she's in kind of a tough spot. I was just giving her a ride home, and, well, uh, there she is, i-in my car right there.

[Sam points to the Caddy. Michael looks. Gillian gives Michael a half-wave.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Shameless, Sam. Even for you.

SAM AXE: Look, Mike, I know you're busy. But I need a fresh face on this. It's a tiny little bit part. You'd be posing as a Green Beret. Like falling off a log.

MICHAEL WESTEN: What's the job?

SAM AXE: Well, it turns out that Melissa's husband, Kent, is running all of the smuggling down at SXG. It's a double blackmail thing. [chuckles] I gotta tell ya, I saw it comin'.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Really?

SAM AXE: Yeah. What I need you to do is make friends with Kent. Okay? Just encourage him to expand his business, open his horizons a little bit.

MICHAEL WESTEN: So we threaten to tell his bosses and get him killed unless he lays off.

SAM AXE: Exactly. See? You're way ahead of me.

MICHAEL WESTEN: You call that a little bit part?

SAM AXE: Well, look, Mike. Come on. I'd do it for you.

[Michael puts on his "Victory" sunglasses.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [sighs] Fine.

[He pushes the hood down. It doesn't close. He tries again, to no avail. He throws his head up in frustration.]

CUT TO:

[Stock footage of Miami. Day.]

CUT TO:

[Firing Range, Parking Lot. Day. Michael, wearing sunglasses and an olive green tight T-shirt and looking as Green Beret as he can, leans against a truck (which has a United States Marine Corps sticker on the rear window). A flattop guy comes outside from the range, talking on a Motorola Razr, looking at Michael's car as he passes it.]

FLATTOP GUY: [into phone] Sweet. It's black. It's a Charger. I haven't seen it before.

[He notices Michael leaning against his truck.]

FLATTOP GUY: [into phone] Hold on for a minute. Yeah. No, I'll call you back.

[He hangs up and walks towards Michael.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [Brooklyn accent] Nice phone. What is that, the Razr?

FLATTOP GUY: Wanna get off my truck?

[He is...]

                                                           KENT

                                                    THE HUSBAND

MICHAEL WESTEN: [stands upright] Sure. I noticed the sticker. Marines?

KENT FONTENOT: Used to be.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Yeah. Rod Bucksey, Green Beret. Got out in '97.

[Michael holds out his hand, though Kent has no interest in shaking it.]

KENT FONTENOT: Congratulations. Get outta my way. I'm in a hurry.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Sure, Kent. I just wanna talk a little business first.

[Kent turns around to face Michael.]

KENT FONTENOT: How'd you know my name?

[Michael removes his sunglasses and hooks them in his T-shirt.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: I know more than your name, Kent. I know you got a sweet smuggling racket over at that SXG facility. Packages leave the building completely unchecked. Unchecked is something I'm very interested in.

KENT FONTENOT: You don't know what you're talkin' about.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Sure, I do. My service buddies over in Istanbul clued me in to what's goin' on.

KENT FONTENOT: [getting in Michael's face] What's goin' on is none of your damn business.  I don't care who your friends are.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Calm down. [spits to the side] We're just talkin' here.

KENT FONTENOT: Oh, no, no, no, no. You show up out of the blue. You know about me and my operation. We're not just talkin' here.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Sure we are. And I'm tellin' you I'm willin' to pay top dollar for your hook at SXG. Look, I've been where you are, takin' orders. Everyone else sits back while you do the heavy liftin'. I can change all that. 'S like they teach us in combat trainin'. You look for the opportunity and take your shot.

[Kent seems a bit interested, though still reluctant.]

KENT FONTENOT: [quietly] Listen. The guys I work for...

MICHAEL WESTEN: ... don't ever have to know about it. We're not steppin' on anybody's toes. And nobody, besides your bank account, will ever know the difference.

KENT FONTENOT: I have to think it over.

MICHAEL WESTEN: You take your time. You think it over. You call me when you're ready. We'll talk terms.

[Michael holds out his hand again, This time, there's a piece of paper in it. Kent shakes the hand and takes the paper. Michael turns to leave.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Semper Fi.

[Putting on his sunglasses, Michael walks away.]

DISSOLVE TO:

[Road opposite Kent and Melissa's House. Day. Sam and Fiona sit in the Caddy, doing recon. Fiona daintily nibbles the sides of her chip as she watches the house. Sam works on a Motorola Razr.]

SAM AXE: Fi, gimme that little tweezer up on the dash, will ya?

[Fiona just keeps nibbling her chip. Sam looks up and sees she's not going to help. He gets it himself.]

SAM AXE: [irritated] That's okay. I got it. Thanks.

[Using the tweezer, Sam places a tiny bug inside the phone.]

FIONA GLENANNE: You about done there? He usually goes out for a run between seven and eight.

SAM AXE: Yeah, well, I'm hoping for seven. Y'know, as much fun as it is hangin' out with you, this little stakeout's costin' me a fortune. Can't you at least cut your hourly? I bought the snacks.

FIONA GLENANNE: I'll reimburse you for the snacks.

[She pops the chip into her mouth. Finished, he jerks the phone out to her. Across the road, Kent jogs outside. Sam looks at him through binoculars.]

SAM AXE: Oh, yeah. There we are. Okay. Let's make this count.

CUT TO:

[Kent and Melissa's House. Day. Sam knocks on the front door. Melissa opens it, not looking happy to see Sam there.]

SAM AXE: Oh, hey. I'm glad I caught you.

MELISSA FONTENOT: What are you doing here? I-I told you, if my husband sees you here...

SAM AXE: No, I-I understand. I'm sorry. I know that you wanted to be discreet so I waited for him to leave. I just thought you'd want the update.

MELISSA FONTENOT: [nervously] What? Did you find something?

SAM AXE: No.

[She relaxes immediately.]

SAM AXE: I mean, if you don't give me any leads on Dave, I mean, there's not much I can do. You got anything?

[As they talk, Fiona picks the backdoor lock.]

MELISSA FONTENOT: No, I told you. I don't know anything.

[Fiona gets the door open and enters. Inside, she looks around.]

            {If you want to bug a cell phone wirelessly, you'll need a lot of specialized scanning equipment, and a computer to deal with the encryption.}

[She notices Kent's Razr on a table and picks it up.]

            {I prefer a hands-on approach.}

[Placing the bugged Razr nearby, she opens them up and removes the SIM card from Kent's phone and inserts it into the bugged phone.]

            {You just bug a duplicate phone and swap out the SIM card, so the new phone has the same number. Your target will talk all day, certain that no one could possibly be listening.}

[Putting the phones back together, she places the bugged Razr in the same place she found the original one.]

MELISSA FONTENOT: [voice-only] I bumped into the guy...

DISSOLVE TO:

[Michael's Loft. Night. Michael sits upstairs, eating yogurt, as he listens to Kent and Melissa speak, through a receiver.]

MELISSA FONTENOT: [voice-only, from speaker] ... when I was on my way out to the store. I'm telling you, he's just some half-assed PI or something. Not helping Gillian anymore.

KENT FONTENOT: [voice-only, from speaker] Good, good. I don't need anyone sniffing around. I got that meeting tomorrow.

MELISSA FONTENOT: [voice-only, from speaker] Don't you think you should talk to our connection about the Green Beret guy?

[Michael pulls out his cell phone and calls Sam.]

KENT FONTENOT: [voice-only, from speaker] Hell, no. Hell, are you crazy?

[Michael waits for Sam to pick up. Sam picks up.]

SAM AXE: [from phone] Yeah, buddy.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Yeah, you're good to go. Kent's keeping our little meeting a secret. I think he's terrified of his supplier. I don't even think he knows the guy's name.

SAM AXE: [from phone] I'll back you up. Let's get this chump on tape.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Yeah, 'bout that. How much are you paying me on this job, because my rates are a little...?

[The door bursts open, cutting Michael's joke (or was it?) short. It's Madeline, followed by Nate. And she don't look too happy at all.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Ooh, I gotta go.

[Michael hangs up and starts walking downstairs.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [annoyed] Mom, what are you doin' here?

[Pissed, Madeline holds up the Sig, which Michael gave to Nate, up.]

MADELINE WESTEN: [yelling] You gave your brother a gun?

[Nate shrugs weakly as he enters the loft.]

NATE WESTEN: I'm sorry, Mike. I tried to stop her, but she found it.

MADELINE WESTEN: [distressed] Michael, what is going on?!

MICHAEL WESTEN: [mad] Nate, I told you...!

NATE WESTEN: [arguing] I know what you told me, but you know her.

MICHAEL WESTEN: What are you doing? I asked you for one thing!

[The argument between the brothers gets louder and more heated, till Madeline screams out.]

MADELINE WESTEN: Stop it, both of you! Stop it!!

[Michael and Nate shut up.]

MADELINE WESTEN: [softer, to Michael] May I have a moment?

[Michael, still irritated, looks at her as she walks to the side. With an evil look at Nate, he walks over to Madeline, who stands near the kitchen bench.]

MADELINE WESTEN: Michael, what is this about?

MICHAEL WESTEN: [looking down] It's complicated.

MADELINE WESTEN: I've had enough of "It's complicated", "It's a secret", "It's for my own safety". Enough.

MICHAEL WESTEN: What do you think I do, Ma?

[Madeline shakes her head, unsurely.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: You think I'm playing games here?

MADELINE WESTEN: [shakes her head] No. No, I don't. We're your family, Michael. I'm asking that you trust us.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [humorless smile] And when would I have learned how to do that?

[She looks at him a beat.]

MADELINE WESTEN: Well, sometimes trust... is something that you work on. You were gone for a long time, Michael. And you were the one who left us.

[Michael, his head down, suddenly looks up at her, looking hurt and upset.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [softly] I left you? Mom, I-

NATE WESTEN: [can't resist] And you still got the car.

[They both ignore the jibe, as they look at each other. Michael's eye glistens with a tear, as he looks at his mother nonplussed.]

MADELINE WESTEN: [barely audible] Michael.

[Michael sighs and smiles at Madeline. Blinking off the tear in his eye, he speaks to his mother pleasantly.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: I have a meeting to get to. So if we could wrap this up...

[Madeline looks at Michael, a bit taken aback. Michael grins at her. She give him a faint smile and a nod, knowing she's not going to get anything more from him.]

MADELINE WESTEN: Let's go, Nate. He's got a meeting.

[Michael nods at her. With a sad look at Michael, she walks off. Michael stands transfixed, looking unhappily into the distance.]

MADELINE WESTEN: [on her way out] Don't forget your gun.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [chiding] Mom.

[She thrusts the gun into Nate's hand as she walks out.]

MADELINE WESTEN: Get yourself some furniture. I didn't raise you to live in a warehouse and eat off a bench.

[Wordlessly, Nate tucks the gun into his pants, near the small of his back, and follows her out. Michael pensively stares off into the distance, as the door closes. He shuts his eyes.]

CUT TO:

[Stock footage of Miami. Day.]

CUT TO:

[Shipyard. Day. A suspension bridge lowers. Michael (as Rod Bucksey, ex-Green Beret/smuggler) drives up in his Charger to meet Kent. On the raised platform, underneath the suspension bridge, stands Sam, sniper rifle in hand, provided tactical backup. Kent is already there, standing outside his truck, arms folded. Michael gets out of the Charger and puts on the Brooklyn accent.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: You ready to get rich?

KENT FONTENOT: Let's talk about that.

[Sam takes aim, just in case. Kent walks, with Michael following, towards a large pile of sand. From Sam's point of view, it's a blind spot.]

KENT FONTENOT: Before we go any further, we need to go over a few details.

MICHAEL WESTEN: First shipment comes in next week. Your cut is ten grand a shipment.

[Kent goes out of Sam's field of vision, as he moves behind the sandpile. Sam lowers the rifle, frustrated.]

SAM AXE: Aw, damn it.

MICHAEL WESTEN: How do you like those details?

KENT FONTENOT: I need to know who told you about me...

[Kent turns round to Michael. Michael notices the handgun tucked into Kent's pants.]

KENT FONTENOT: ... specifically.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [trying to shrug it off] It doesn't really matter who...

KENT FONTENOT: [interrupts] It does matter to me. The men I work for, they'd kill me if they found out I was running product for someone else, found out you heard about me, a loose end.

[Sam strains to look for a shot.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: That's the point. They don't know. This is yours. Not another score you gotta cut them in on.

[Kent pulls out his gun and aims it right at Michael's head.]

            {Having a gun to your head is all about timing, finding the right moment to make your move.}

KENT FONTENOT: Who told you about me?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Take it easy. Take it easy.

[With one fluid motion, Michael grabs Kent's hand and gun and twists it back. Kent grunts in pain.]

            {Best to snap the trigger finger first.}

[Michael yanks Kent's right index finger away from the trigger hard, snapping it. Kent yells out in pain.]

            {After that, it's mostly downhill. }

[Pulling the gun away, he throws it to the side. Kent connects with a hard left to Michael's ribs. Michael arches back in pain. He tries to elbow Kent in the face, but Kent blocks it. The two grapple awhile, then Michael lifts Kent by his thigh and drops him to the ground. Michael starts running towards the Charger. Sam takes aim, readying himself for a shot. Kent gets back up and picks up his gun. Michael gets inside the car, as Kent takes aim. From his perch, Sam fires off a shot, putting a hole in Kent's truck's hood. Kent immediately ducks, trying to see where the shot came from. Sam reloads quickly and fires again, hitting the same spot on the truck. As Michael revs the Charger for a quick getaway, Sam squeezes off another shot at the truck, making Kent take cover behind the sandpile. Michael takes off in reverse. Kent gets up and fires at the Charger. The windshield (the NEW windshield) spiderwebs as the bullet hits it. Sam fires again, sending Kent ducking for cover again. Michael whirls the car around, and drives off. He looks at the ruined windshield in annoyance.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [whining] Oh, man. I just fixed that.

[He drives off.]

CUT TO:

[Michael's Loft. Day. Fiona, Sam and Gillian stand around the kitchen bench, listening in on a recording Kent and Melissa's conversation. Michael sits to the side.]

FIONA GLENANNE: A minute after your deal went sour, Kent and Melissa were on the phone.

KENT FONTENOT: [voice-only, from speaker, irate] Son of a bitch had backup! Someone put three slugs in my engine!

MELISSA FONTENOT: [voice-only, from speaker] How much does he know?

KENT FONTENOT: [voice-only, from speaker] Too much! We need to shut this down!

MELISSA FONTENOT: [voice-only, from speaker] Can't. Not yet. There's another package in lockup.

KENT FONTENOT: [voice-only, from speaker, sighs] Have her get it out. I'll clean up this mess. Can't let them know we got sloppy.

[Fiona turns off the tape recorder. Gillian looks afraid.]

FIONA GLENANNE: Kent's running scared. Makes things complicated for us.

GILLIAN WALSH: Was he talking about me when he said "clean up this mess"?

SAM AXE: Yeah. That's what our little dance at the construction site was all about. Mike was their first clean-up project.

GILLIAN WALSH: [turns to Michael] I am so sorry. Kent...

MICHAEL WESTEN: [shrugs it off] ... busted my windshield. I'll just repair it... again.

GILLIAN WALSH: He tried to kill you.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Happens all the time. Don't worry about it, especially with the part-time help on "easy jobs".

[Sam looks apologetically at Michael.]

FIONA GLENANNE: The problem is, we don't have enough evidence to use against him.

GILLIAN WALSH: So what do I do now?

[Fiona and Sam look at Michael. Gillian turns to him.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: You could run. Kent might not find you. But you'd have to stay on the move for five, ten years.

SAM AXE: Plus, he still has all the blackmail material, so he can still take you down. But if you help Melissa get that package out of SXG...

GILLIAN WALSH: [nonplussed] You want me to do it again?

SAM AXE: I know you're afraid. But I'm gonna be outside the whole time watchin'. Once Kent has that heroin, we can use it to bring him down.

[Still unsure, Gillian looks at Fiona, who nods encouragingly at her. She looks at Michael. He smiles at her.]

FIONA GLENANNE: You need to trust us.

GILLIAN WALSH: [softly] Okay.

DISSOLVE TO:

[Outside SXG Facility. Day. The area is sealed off by chain-link fence with "Area Restricted/Area Restringida" signs. Outside, Sam sits in his Caddy, watching the place using binoculars. Seeing nothing of note for the moment, he lowers his binoculars with a sigh. He picks up his cell phone and starts typing out a text message to Veronica, his "lady friend". He chuckles as he types - "Hey Babe. Babysitting the client. Wait up 4 me. Im worth it." He hits the button to send it. Immediately, the phone beeps back with a message "No Service". Sam looks at it in surprise.]

SAM AXE: Oh, come on. Aw, crap. Goddamn cell phone shielding.

[Putting down the phone, he reaches into a bag of caramel popcorn and shoves a handful of popcorn into his mouth.]

            {Whether you're protecting a client...}

CUT TO:

[Michael's Loft. Day. Upstairs, Fiona reclines on the sofa, reading a "Guns & Ammo" magazine (What else? Vogue?) as she eavesdrops on Kent and Melissa's conversations.]

            {... monitoring electronic surveillance...}

MELISSA FONTENOT: [voice-only, from speaker] Hello?

KENT FONTENOT: [voice-only, from speaker] Can you get the package today?

MELISSA FONTENOT: [voice-only, from speaker] I told you. Gillian's signing for it. We can get it tonight.

CUT TO:

[Outside Miami City Hall. Day. Michael sits in the Charger, in the blazing sun.]

            {... or meeting the man who burned you, you've gotta be patient. In the real world, covert ops doesn't involve many car chases or gunfights. Mostly it's just hurry up and wait.

[He checks his wristwatch. A while later, he stands outside his car, arms folded, getting impatient by the moment. He checks his watch, flaps his suit lapels trying to get some cool air in.]

                       

            {Not too exciting. But you wait and you watch and you stay alert, because, at any minute...}

CUT TO:

[Michael's Loft. Day. Fiona's still on the sofa reading about the latest "PX4 Storm Beretta". She hears Kent speaking to his supplier.]

            {... the job can get way too exciting.}

KENT FONTENOT: [voice-only, from speaker] I just wanted you to know we're good to go. We're gettin' it out today.

[The supplier's hard-edged voice comes from the speaker.]

SUPPLIER: [voice-only, from speaker] And the woman?

KENT FONTENOT: [voice-only, from speaker] I die-set her car this morning. It's done.

[Fiona turns to the speaker, as she hears of the danger Gillian's in.]

SUPPLIER: [voice-only, from speaker] It's not done until it's done. Get a visual. Then tell me it's done.

[Immediately, she discards her magazine, sits up and picks up her cell phone.]

CUT TO:

[Outside Miami City Hall. Day. Michael's cell phone rings. Reluctantly, he answers it.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Can I call you back, Fi?

FIONA GLENANNE: [from phone] We got a problem.

INTERCUT WITH: [Michael's Loft. Day. Fiona speaks to Michael on her phone.]

FIONA GLENANNE: [into phone] Kent's gonna hit Gillian tonight.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Call Sam.

FIONA GLENANNE: [from phone] I can't. There's no cell reception.

[Torn, Michael looks at his watch again.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] All right. I'm on my way.

[He hangs up and looks around.

            {It's always tough to reschedule a covert meeting. You can't exactly leave a note. So you have to leave behind just enough to get them where you want them to go.}

[Pulling out a piece of chalk, Michael walks to the pavement and starts to write something on the concrete. Finished, he looks at what he's written - "John 3:16".]

DISSOLVE TO:

[Outside SXG. Night. Sitting in the darkened car, Sam watches through binoculars as Kent drives up in a van. He stops at the security post and gets cleared. He drives inside and parks near the entrance. Melissa comes out, lugging a big yellow case. The security guard comes over to her to clear her.]

SECURITY GUARD: Working late tonight?

[The guard leans over to take a cursory glance at the case and gets up.]

MELISSA FONTENOT: Yeah. You know engineers. Gotta get this crap down to the machine shop, get it fixed. Have to have it all done by tomorrow. So my husband's here to take me down to Bal Harbor.

SECURITY GUARD: I hear ya. Good luck with it.

MELISSA FONTENOT: Thanks.

[Sam watches her walk to the back seat door, open it and place the case inside the van. Closing the door, she gets in the passenger side of the van. Kent drives the van through the security post and drives down the road. He breaks right near the SXG parking lot and stops.]

[Melissa turns to Kent.]

MELISSA FONTENOT: [nervous] Can't we just go home? I don't wanna watch.

KENT FONTENOT: Then don't.

[Knowing further argument will be futile, she closes her eyes.]

[Sam sees Kent turn off the van's ignition. Wondering why they're still hanging around with the drugs, he frowns. Michael's Charger pulls up alongside the Caddy. Fiona and Michael jump out and get into the Caddy, Fiona in front.]

SAM AXE: [huh?] Miss me?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Oh, yeah.

FIONA GLENANNE: Kent wired Gillian's car to blow.

SAM AXE: Jesus. Well, that's why he's watchin' then. [pointing out Kent's van] The white van, ten o'clock.

FIONA GLENANNE: We have to warn her when she comes out.

SAM AXE: You think Kent's gonna sit there on the sidelines for that?

FIONA GLENANNE: [arguing] Oh great, Sam. So we sit here and we do nothing, and she winds up dead.

SAM AXE: [hotly] That's not what I meant.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Guys. Guys. Which one's her car?

SAM AXE: It's the black Jeep over there.

[Michael opens the door and climbs out.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Keep the guard busy. I'm borrowing your floor mat.

[Taking the floor mat from the car, he runs towards the chain-link fence, encircling the parking lot.]

[Sam and Fiona pull up to the security post in the Caddy. The guard comes over to the car to attend to them.]

SAM AXE: Hey, good evening. How you doin'?

SECURITY GUARD: Evening.

SAM AXE: Listen. We have a reservation for eight PM.

SECURITY GUARD: A reservation?

SAM AXE: Yeah. Well, this is the Chart House, right?

SECURITY GUARD: [looks at Sam sideways] The Chart House?

SAM AXE: Yeah. It's a restaurant.

SECURITY GUARD: No.

SAM AXE: What? No?

[Michael strides past the fence, watching them as he walks.]

FIONA GLENANNE: [playing the part of the frustrated lady friend] I told you not to get off the freeway.

SAM AXE: Oh, hush, muffin. This guy's just having some fun with us. Chuck Finley, party of two.

[The security guard has had quite enough of this nutcase and starts to turn away from them. Sam, knowing he can't allow the guard to look at the CCTV monitors, honks his horn loudly.]

SAM AXE: Oh, hey. Hey, c'mon. A little service here. I'm trying to eat. I'm hungry.

SECURITY GUARD: This is not the Chart House.

SAM AXE: This is not the Chart House?

[Behind the guard, the monitor shows Michael climbing the fence.]

SECURITY GUARD: There's no reservations here.

[Michael climbs the fence, up to the barbed wire on top. Throwing the floor mat over the barbed wire, he starts to climb over.]

[Behind the harried security guard, the monitor shows Michael cartwheeling over the fence.]

SAM AXE: I need to clarify something here.

[Michael lands on the grass, on his two feet. He starts to walk towards Gillian's Jeep.]

            {There are two basic ways to blow up a car.}

[Reaching the Jeep, he rolls under the car, wriggling himself in position.]

            {Use the gasoline in the tank, or provide your own explosive. They're two techniques that use opposite ends of the car and are disarmed differently.}

[He starts to grope for anything out of the ordinary. Gillian walks out of the office building, towards the parking lot.]

            {Some people prefer the gas tank. Tends to look more like an accident...}

[With his right hand, Michael feels the pipe connecting to the gas tank.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [clenching his teeth, softly] Come on!

            {... but it's less reliable.}

[He doesn't find anything around the gas tank. He notices Gillian walking towards the Jeep. Time's running out.]

            {Others prefer plastic explosive on the battery, wired to the ignition.}

[He wriggles his way to the other side and gropes the area around the battery. He feels coiled insulated wire.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [grimacing] Come on.

[Gillian's getting closer.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [urgently] Come on.

[Moving back the coiled wire, his fingers touch a small brick of plastic explosives.]

[In the white van, Melissa looks apprehensively at Kent. Kent waits patiently, looking at the car.]

[Gillian, a few feet away from her car, remotely opens her car. The alarm chirps. Not much time remaining.]

[Michael struggles to reach for the plastique. He grimaces as he reaches.]

[Gillian enters her car. Michael's fingers get closer to the plastique.]

[Melissa braces for the explosion. Kent watches.]

[Michael gets a grip on the explosive.]

[Gillian puts her key into the ignition.]

[Michael pulls off the plastique and the wiring.]

[Gillian turns the key in ignition and starts the car. No explosion.]

[In the van, Kent and Melissa are shell-shocked as they see a very much alive Gillian drive away. Melissa turns to Kent.]

MELISSA FONTENOT: I thought you said you rigged the car.

KENT FONTENOT: [tightly] I did! There must be something wrong with the detonator.

MELISSA FONTENOT: They're gonna be pissed, Kent!

KENT FONTENOT: [yelling] Don'tcha think I know that?

[Michael still lies where he was, on his side, clutching the bomb to his chest, breathing heavily. Exhaling loudly, he  drops his head to the ground. Suddenly, he notices that his grease-covered fingers have stained his light blue shirt pretty bad. He drops his head, peeved.]

CUT TO:

[Michael's Loft. Day. The explosive is placed on the bench. Gillian looks at it in disbelief, while our heroes stand aside.]

GILLIAN WALSH: [shocked] They really tried to kill me?

SAM AXE: I'm afraid so.

GILLIAN WALSH: [choking] With that, under my car?

MICHAEL WESTEN: [duh!] Well, yeah. It's a car bomb.

SAM AXE: This may be hard to get your head around, but this is a good thing. They're scared of you. That's why they put this little toy next to your engine block.

GILLIAN WALSH: Scared of me?

MICHAEL WESTEN: They're afraid of a lot of people - police, uh, the people they work for.

FIONA GLENANNE: And now they've got a big box of heroin they have to get rid of.

[Gillian calms down a little.]

GILLIAN WALSH: So... what should I do now?

SAM AXE: Take a vacation. By the time you come back, we'll have your problem sorted out. New Hampshire's nice this time of year.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Vermont.

GILLIAN WALSH: Okay. And what'll you do?

SAM AXE: Well, Kent and Melissa are going to have a little, uh, well-documented transaction going on - a buy. Uh, we're going to take that evidence, go to Kent, get him to shut down his little operation and have him back off.

GILLIAN WALSH: [gratefully] Thank you. I-I can't believe you did this for me.

SAM AXE: Well, we haven't done it yet. Why don't you go, um, make your arrangements?

GILLIAN WALSH: [softly] Okay.

[A faint smile of relief on her face, Gillian collects her purse and leaves.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [tight smile] This deal, the timing...

SAM AXE: I know, Mike. You got this whole Cowan thing. It's good. We're covered. You're okay. Don't sweat it.

MICHAEL WESTEN: You sure?

SAM AXE: Yeah. We're just taking pictures. You're the one who needs backup.

MICHAEL WESTEN: No, I'm doing this alone.

[Fiona looks dismayed.]

SAM AXE: Okay. I get it. Good luck.

[Sam leaves. Michael turns to Fiona.]

FIONA GLENANNE: Don't look at me. I don't get it. I don't get why you're so dead set on getting back in. Why go back to work for the people who've put you through all this?

MICHAEL WESTEN: I wanna clear my name. I wanna know who did this to me. I spent my entire career doing something I believed in, Fi. Something important.

FIONA GLENANNE: You're doing something important here, Michael. Think about it. Next time you're risking your life to talk to this... Philip Cowan fellow, you think about it.

[She turns and strides to the door and opens it.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Fi.

[She doesn't listen to him. Closing the door, she leaves.]

CUT TO:

[Stock footage of Miami. Day.]

CUT TO:

[Road opposite Docks. Day. On a bridge overlooking the docks, Sam and Fiona stand near the Caddy, with Sam providing instructions. Fiona holds a telephoto lens in her hand. Sam points to the docks.]

SAM AXE: All right, that's where Kent's little meet is goin' down. I'm gonna take the car down there on the opposite side. Use the telephoto lens on the camera so we get something.

FIONA GLENANNE: [nonchalantly] Okay. No rush. I'm on the clock. I'm gonna work on my tan.

[Sam starts to get in the Caddy.]

SAM AXE: I want a flat rate next time.

FIONA GLENANNE: Mm-hmm.

[Getting inside the car, he drives off. Fiona takes her position.]

[Sam pulls up on the opposite side of Kent and Melissa's meeting spot. He pulls out his camera.]

[Kent's car drives into view. As Fiona watches from her perch on the bridge, the car stops near the water. Kent and Melissa get out.]

[Sam focuses the camera on the Fontenots and clicks pictures.]

[Kent shrugs unhappily as they find themselves alone at the meeting place.]

[Fiona aims the telephoto lens towards them.]

KENT FONTENOT: [over speaker] You sure you told 'em three o'clock.

MELISSA FONTENOT: [over speaker] Yes.

[They pace around impatiently.]

[Sam clicks another picture.]

CUT TO:

[Outside Church. Day .Michael walks up a payphone.]

            {When you're communicating in code, sometimes you just have to hope that whoever you're talking to is smart enough to figure out what you're saying. Use a code that's too simple, and it will get broken. Use a code that's too complex...}

[The payphone rings.]

            {... and you're just talking to yourself.}

[Michael picks up the receiver and speaks immediately.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] No greeting card. I'm hurt.

PHILIP COWAN: [from phone] Glad you made it.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Yeah. Something came up. Sorry I missed our meeting.

PHILIP COWAN: [from phone] St. John's at 3:16, clever boy. Are you ready to meet?

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Are you here?

PHILIP COWAN: [from phone, chuckles] We'll-we'll meet on my turf. Thanks. I'm back where you got my first message. Come alone, or I leave. Unarmed, or I leave. In ten minutes, or I leave.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] It's over a mile away!

PHILIP COWAN: [from phone] Yeah, well, guess you better run.

[Michael presses his lips together as he slams the receiver down in exasperation. Mouthing "damn!", he starts running.]

CUE MUSIC: [Heavy Leather - Beamish/Valentine]

CUT TO:

[Area around Docks. Day. Sam continues to click pictures.]

[Kent is pacing heavily.]

MELISSA FONTENOT: [over speaker] Please calm down.

KENT FONTENOT: [over speaker] They were supposed to be here 20 minutes ago. Something's wrong.

MELISSA FONTENOT: [over speaker] I'm sure they're on their way.

KENT FONTENOT: [over speaker] Maybe the boss was right. Maybe we're compromised.

MELISSA FONTENOT: [over speaker, in consternation] Kent, you told them?

KENT FONTENOT: [over speaker] Melissa, yes. These are very serious people. I mean, they would kill us if they thought anything was wrong. It's better to hear it from us. Better to hear it from me.

CUT TO:

[Miami Streets. Day. Michael runs as fast as he can. He checks his watch as he runs.]

CUT TO:

[Area around Docks. Day. Kent pulls out his cell phone and dials.]

MELISSA FONTENOT: [over speaker] What are you doing now?

KENT FONTENOT: [over speaker] I'm calling the buyer. He's got five minutes.

[Fiona keeps the telephoto lens trained on them.]

[The line on Kent's phone rings, but no answer. He hangs up.]

KENT FONTENOT: [over speaker] C'mon. Get in the car.

MELISSA FONTENOT: [over speaker] What?

KENT FONTENOT: [over speaker, ordering] C'mon!

MELISSA FONTENOT: [over speaker, arguing] What? What is it?

KENT FONTENOT: [over speaker] Go! Just get in the car.

[Melissa goes over to the passenger side as Kent gets in the driver's side.]

KENT FONTENOT: [over speaker] Hurry up!

[She gets in... just in time for a rocket-propelled grenade to zoom towards the car and blow it sky-high with the unfortunate Fontenots inside it.]

[Fiona's ears gets a jolt as the sound of the explosion gets magnified by the telephoto lens.]

[In his car, Sam reacts in surprise at the sight and sound of the explosion.]

[A massive fireball erupts from the scene. On a boat opposite the docks, a tough guy in fatigues lowers a smoking RPG launcher.]

[In his car, Sam is still disoriented.]

SAM AXE: Son of a...

[Suddenly, a machine gun-toting mercenary knocks on his window, holding the gun at Sam.]

MERCENARY: Out of the car!

SAM AXE: Oh, wh... Hey.

[Sam holds his hands up as the mercenary opens the car door.]

[Fiona, her ears still hurting, sees Sam being dragged by the mercenary away from his car.]

MERCENARY: Move it! Let's go!

[She turns to her right and notices two other mercenaries running towards her, carrying some pretty serious-looking hardware.]

FIONA GLENANNE: Sh...

[Dropping the telephoto lens, with a frustrated growl, she takes off in the other direction. The other way is blocked off by another fatigues-wearing mercenary with a tricked-out H&K MP5. Seeing her way blocked off on both sides, she jumps over the guardrail and splashes into the water below.]

CUT TO:

[Hollywood Bread Building/Parking Garage. Day. As the music continues, Michael runs into the garage. The camera follows him as he runs up two levels. He runs up a flight of stairs. Finally, he winds up on the terrace where he was earlier. Breathing heavily, he stops to catch his breath, hunching over. He stands upright and checks his watch.]

END MUSIC.

[He hears someone call his name and looks.]

PHILIP COWAN: Michael!

[Philip Cowan stands at a distance in a adjoining building. He waves at Michael.]

PHILIP COWAN: Hello again.

[Michael walks slowly and cautiously towards Cowan. Cowan flaps out his suit lapels, motioning for Michael to do the same. Still huffing and puffing, Michael raises his suit and does a 360 for Cowan's benefit. Seeing Michael's unarmed, Cowan walks out into the open, onto the terrace, towards Michael.]

PHILIP COWAN: I always find my hand shakes a little after a run like that. Any advantage I can get, well, you know, can't be too careful.

[He approaches Michael. Michael, still a bit breathless, removes his sunglasses.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: I'm not here to kill you.

PHILIP COWAN: Really? Slept with a gun under my pillow every night since I heard you were hunting for me. To hear you say that now, it's almost disappointing.

MICHAEL WESTEN: I wanna know why you burned me.

PHILIP COWAN: You think I burned you?

MICHAEL WESTEN: I know you did.

[Michael starts to walk slowly around Cowan, as they speak.]

PHILIP COWAN: [laughs] Why, because you read it on a file? Wow! You really unraveled that little mystery, didn't ya? You think this is about me. One man watched you, targeted you, burned you? Froze your accounts? Cut off your travel? One guy did all that, and then he decided to come to Miami and explain himself.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [accusingly] You tried to have me killed.

PHILIP COWAN: [concedes, nods] Nothing personal.

[Michael grins humorlessly.]

PHILIP COWAN: Do the same in my position. Michael, you keep thinking that this is about me. Banish that thought. You're on the edge of something much, much bigger than us, my friend. People I work for, they have plans for you.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [frowning] People you work for?

PHILIP COWAN: Powerful, dangerous people. And, man, are they upset with me. I misread you, Michael. Didn't expect you to buck quite so much. You're making everyone nervous.

[He's interrupted by the sound of a distant gunshot and an accompanying large bloody hole in his chest. He falls to the floor, his blood spraying about, some of it on Michael's face, suit and shirt. Michael ducks immediately; but in the open terrace, he's a sitting duck. Crouching near Cowan's inert body, he looks around. Seeing nothing, he goes over to Cowan and places two fingers on his throat, checking for a pulse. His somber expression implies he's not getting a pulse. The high-pitched wail of police sirens breaks the silence. Michael stands and runs away from the body and off the terrace.]

[Four police cars turn a corner, as they approach the building.]

[Michael ducks behind a wall, out of sight of the approaching police cars. Covered in Cowan's blood, he takes out his cell phone and dials. He looks a bit panicky as he puts the phone to his ear, listening to the line ringing.]

NATE WESTEN: [from phone] Hey, Bro.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone, urgent] Nate, get in your truck, and meet me at the corner of Pembroke and Fletcher. Leave now.

NATE WESTEN: [from phone] All right. What?

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone, seriously] Nate! Get in your truck right now...

NATE WESTEN: [from phone, incredulously] What?

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] ... and meet me there.

NATE WESTEN: [from phone] But wait. What's goin' on?

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Truth? [beat as he breathes heavily] I have no idea.

[He hangs up and looks around.]

CUT TO:

[Outside Michael's Loft. Day. Nate's truck pulls up outside Oleg's nightclub. Michael sits grimly in the passenger side, still covered in blood spatter.]

NATE WESTEN: This Cowan guy tell you anything, or what?

MICHAEL WESTEN: He was about to.

[Michael looks ahead, seeing city workmen, clad in reflective gear, working on something ahead.]

NATE WESTEN: Think that's why he got shot?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Maybe. [maybe] I dunno. Maybe they thought I'd kill him. It was a setup. The cops were there way too quick. Somebody called them before the shot was fired.

NATE WESTEN: [sighs and shakes his head] This is deep, bro.

[Michael wipes the blood off his face. He spits outside.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Nate, I want you to go pick up Mom. It's about time you two got out of town.

NATE WESTEN: [nods] Right.

[Michael looks at his brother, gratefully.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Thank you, Nate. I just, y'know...

NATE WESTEN: [shakes his head, smiling] No, don't talk like that. You're not good at it. But the next time I ask you for twenty bucks for gas, remember this.

[The little joke cheers Michael up a bit. He starts to get out of the truck, when he notices one of the workmen, coiling a cable around his arm, turn and look towards Michael, almost menacingly. Another guy, on his knees as he works, looks at Michael, a sour expression on his face. A guy with a helmet, painted with the American Flag colors, looks nonchalantly towards Michael. Michael turns around and sees a guy hunched over his car, working under the hood. The tough-looking guy turns and looks at Michael. Michael, still paranoid, stays inside the truck and closes the door. Nate looks confused.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Actually, I think I'll go with you.

[Michael's phone rings. He answers it.]

FIONA GLENANNE: [from phone, urgently] Michael...

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Fi, can I call you back?

INTERCUT WITH: [Warehouse District. Day. Still wet after her near-escape from the thugs, Fiona stands at a payphone, speaking to Michael, distressed. This is the first time she's anything less than confident.]

FIONA GLENANNE: [into phone] Michael, Kent and Melissa's deal went bad. They're dead. And Sam...

SPLIT-SCREEN: [Michael on the left, Fiona on the right.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Whoa, whoa, whoa. What? Slow down, Fi. Slow down.

[Fiona forces herself to take a calming breath.]

FIONA GLENANNE: [into phone, breathing heavily] Kent's boss is cleaning house, I think. They were watching us. They took Sam.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Who did?

FIONA GLENANNE: [from phone] I don't know. Whoever they are, they're damn good.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Where are you, Fi?

FIONA GLENANNE: [from phone] I can't talk. I'm in the warehouse district by the First Street Bridge.

[Fiona whips her head towards the sound of an approaching vehicle.]

FIONA GLENANNE: [into phone, scared] They're coming.

[Dropping the receiver, she runs off. Camera holds on the swinging payphone receiver.]

CUT TO:

[Stock footage of Miami. Day.]

CUT TO:

[Miami Streets. Day. Nate drives his truck towards the warehouse district.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: You drop me off and you go. Got it?

NATE WESTEN: It's too late. You need me.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Sam and Fi are dealing with heroin smugglers. They already killed two people.

NATE WESTEN: Yeah. Sounds like it's a bad time for me to bail.

MICHAEL WESTEN: No, it's a perfect time for you to bail.

NATE WESTEN: Look, man, something happens to you, and Mom is on my ass forever. All right? And not to get into your business, but it seems like you could use the help.

[Michael looks at his brother gratefully.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Thank you.

NATE WESTEN: You're welcome. Family first, right?

[Michael smiles faintly.]

CUT TO:

[Warehouse District. Day. Michael and Nate sit in the truck and see at the mercenaries (who are after Fiona), skulking around outside the warehouses, looking for her.]

NATE WESTEN: She's in there somewhere? I mean, she could be in any one of those buildings, man.

MICHAEL WESTEN: She'll let us know where she is.

[The mercenaries fan out in search.]

            {In any operation, communicating silently is often essential. Chalk marks, an unusual arrangement of objects - anything that stands out from the background will do.}

[Michael looks around carefully, looking for something out of the ordinary. He notices a piece of red cloth hanging from outside a warehouse window.]

            {A piece of cloth on a window.}

[Michael points towards the warehouse.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: There. She's there.

[Nate looks and sees the cloth.]

NATE WESTEN: Hmm. Great. What are we gonna do about it? Those guys are all over looking for her.

MICHAEL WESTEN: I'm gonna need to drive.

[Nate looks at Michael, apprehensively.]

[Michael, now in the driver's seat, drives the truck at full speed towards the warehouse, past the mercenaries.]

            {A warehouse door is going to be reinforced, but the walls aren't.}

MICHAEL WESTEN: Hold on.

[Michael aims the truck towards the warehouse wall.]

            {And the areas under the windows don't have load-bearing beams.}

[The truck rips through the wall, knocking over racks. He jams the brakes once inside. Fiona sprints towards the hole in the wall, past the truck. As she passes, Michael tosses his gun to her. Catching it (and getting back a large chunk of her confidence), she runs towards the hole, just as the mercenaries run towards the warehouse, guns at the ready. Fiona reaches the hole and opens fire at them, making them scatter for cover.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Fi?

FIONA GLENANNE: [motioning to the side] Through there.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [to Nate] You cover that door. You don't let anyone through.

[Nate, holding a gun, gets to the hole, while Fiona and Michael run to another side of the warehouse. A mercenary fires at him. Michael and Fiona reach the machine shop area.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Here.

FIONA GLENANNE: I love machine shops.

[Handing Michael his gun back, she goes over to a cupboard which says "FLAMMABLE", while he pries open some wooden boxes.]

FIONA GLENANNE: [rummaging through the cupboard's contents] They have polyester thermoset resins. They should have some...

[Michael finds some ball bearings.]

FIONA GLENANNE: Ah, here we go. Benzoyl peroxide. Yum-my.

[She pulls out some plastic bags filled with white powder and drops them on the table. Meanwhile, Nate has his hands full with the mercs.]

NATE WESTEN: [yelling] Guys, do you wanna hurry it up, please?

[The mercs fire at him from cover, while he returns fire. Michael carts a few crates, Fiona behind him, carrying a box. They run to Nate's truck.]

NATE WESTEN: Hurry up. I got 'em pinned down.

[Michael and Fiona load the crates and boxes into the truck.]

[A little while later, the mercs hear the truck engine start. The truck rolls slowly out through the hole in the wall. Noone's inside. The mercs look at in confusion.]

            {A good trap doesn't scare people, it makes them curious.}

[Inside the warehouse, Michael, Nate and Fiona race towards a window, preparing to make a quick getaway. Using a piece of rebar, Michael wedges it into the iron grill of the window.]

[Outside, the truck rolls slowly to a halt, while the mercs walk curiously up to it.]

            {A speeding truck makes people scatter. A slow-moving truck, on the other hand, makes people want to take a closer look.}

[Inside, Michael manages to wrench off the grill off the window. Holding it open for Fiona and Nate to get through, he follows them out.]

[Outside, the mercs reach the bed of the truck and notice smoke rising from the boxes. Pros that they are, they know what will follow, so...]

MERCENARY: [screaming] Take cover! Go! Go!

[The mercs scatter, clamoring. The mixture explodes, ripping apart the bed of Nate's truck.]

CUT TO:

[Stock footage of Miami. Day.]

CUT TO:

[Mansion. Day. Michael, Fiona and Nate drive up in a (probably stolen) Hyundai sedan up to the doorway of a mansion. They get out. Nate jumps out, still a bit edgy.]

NATE WESTEN: That was insane. Those people were heroin smugglers?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Sam had a job. Things didn't go as planned.

[Nate runs inside the mansion.]

NATE WESTEN: You're out of your mind!

FIONA GLENANNE: What happened with Cowan?

[Michael looks down at his bloody-stained jacket.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Yeah. Things didn't go as planned with that either. He's dead, Fi. They shot him while we were talking.

FIONA GLENANNE: Did you get anything?

MICHAEL WESTEN: A little. He said the people he works for, they have plans for me.

FIONA GLENANNE: Yeah, well, that's intriguing. What the hell does it mean?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Without knowing who they are, hard to say. They might want information. They might have a job they want me to do. I mean, they shot him for a reason. Better be a good reason.

[Michael opens the front door of the mansion and heads inside. Inside, he looks incredulously at the bare place. The windows are taped off, there are white sheets on the pillars. Nate's stuff lies strewn about the place.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: This is your place?

NATE WESTEN: Yeah. Well, it's a foreclosure. Y'know, I guess they ran out of money in the remodel. Usually, I can hang out about three months in a place like this. [accusingly] You-you know, you blew up my truck.

FIONA GLENANNE: Anyone know you're here?

NATE WESTEN: No, no. I got a couple clients in my golf club business. They weren't real happy with the way the... investment worked out, so...

MICHAEL WESTEN: Nate, I need you to go get Mom and bring her here.

NATE WESTEN: [whining] Seriously? Come on, man. Y'know, when she starts smokin' in here, we're never gonna get the smell out.

[Michael picks up a couple of Nate's folded shirts from a pile on the ground.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: The people who shot Cowan are probably watching her place. When you go get her, bring her here. Make sure you're not followed.

[Nate grabs one of the shirts (his favorite one) and throws it back in the pile.]

NATE WESTEN: [peevishly] I know how to lose a tail, all right?

[He starts to walk out.]

NATE WESTEN: And I hate to break it to you, but spies aren't the only people with enemies.

[As he walks out, Michael looks at some other shirts to replace his ruined one. Fiona walks up to him.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [removing his jacket] Tell me what happened with Sam.

CUT TO:

[Boat. Day. Sam sits in the hold, tied to a chair. His freshly-bruised face looks like he's not been getting courteous treatment by his captors. WHAM! He takes a hard left to the jaw. The assailant is Nydam, a muscular henchman. The boss (Kent's supplier) stands nearby. Both he and Nydam are dressed in fatigues. Sam groans, but keeps a strong poker-face on.]

SAM AXE: That was pretty good. But you gotta follow through.

[Nydam gives Sam a harder, more fluid left to the jaw this time.]

SAM AXE: Okay. Now we're gettin' somewhere. [spitting out some bloody saliva] Yeah, that was pretty painful. How was that for you?

[The supplier speaks in a low, menacing voice, while looking at a bunch of photos.]

SUPPLIER: You were taking pictures. Who do you work for?

SAM AXE: Me? [laughs] I don't work for anyone. I go out there sometimes just to... to think. Take pictures of the birds and the local fauna, y'know.

[Nydam doesn't find that funny and lets Sam know it, with a swift punch to the gut. Sam doubles over in the chair, grunting. He straightens himself, groaning.]

SAM AXE: [breathing heavily] You're gettin' good at that.

NYDAM: The guy that came for the woman, he knew what he was doin'. Maybe DEA?

SUPPLIER: DEA comes with a team. DEA brings cops. DEA does not blow up a truck.

SAM AXE: [to Nydam] You know, buddy, if I were you, I'd watch it with the stupid comments. 'Cause, y'know, your boss just killed a lot of his own guys outside, so you...

[The supplier shuts Sam up with a hard right whip across the face. He is...]

                                                           HARRICK

                                                   HEROIN IMPORTER

[Sam lets out a deep sigh.]

GLENN HARRICK: Let me guess, you're trying to buy time for your team, is that it?

SAM AXE: Team? Uh... [looks around mockingly] There's-there's no team around here. I work alone in a cubicle.

[HArrick pulls out Sam's cell phone and checks Sam's outgoing call list.]

GLENN HARRICK: You work alone? Mm-hmm. Pretty talkative for a loner. [holding the phone out to Sam] Called this number three times when you were at the docks. Let me guess. That your boss?

SAM AXE: [smiling] Nah, that's my boyfriend.

[Nydam rears his right fist for another disciplinary punch. Sam talks fast.]

SAM AXE: Okay, okay!

[Nydam lowers his fist.]

SAM AXE: [sighs] Look, I'm DEA. We've been watching you guys for months. We got a grand jury ready to go.

[A hard punch in the stomach declares Harrick's skepticism. Sam grunts loudly.]

SAM AXE: I'm CIA. That's right. CIA. We've been tracking your Turkish heroin connection for terrorists.

[Furious, Harrick grabs Sam by the throat, getting in his face, and yells.]

GLENN HARRICK: Who do you work for, huh?!

SAM AXE: Okay. FBI. We got an informant. Your guy there. He works for us. [to Nydam] Isn't that right, Frank? Come on, tell him. No use lying now. He's got us. C'mon, Frank!

[Harrick laughs.]

GLENN HARRICK: You're a funny guy. You're trained, aren'tcha? Hmm? Lemme guess. Special Forces? See, me, I'm an ex-Green Beret. Admit nothing, deny everything, make counteraccusations.

SAM AXE: Special Forces? [chuckling] No-o-o. I was a Boy Scout for a while. Hey, take these restraints off me and I'll show you how to tie a slipknot.

NYDAM: Let's just kill him.

GLENN HARRICK: And then what? The girl saw us. We gotta take care of the whole team, plus Gillian. [holding Sam's cheek, in his face] By the way, seems like she packed up and left early. We went by her house. Musta been in a hurry. But don't worry. I'll find her. I'm really good at that.

[He pats Sam on the cheek. Sam fakes a loud yawn.]

SAM AXE: [drowsily] Excuse me. I'm sorry.

[Harrick chuckles.]

GLENN HARRICK: [to Nydam] You know what? Show him what Green Berets are all about.

[He walks out, as Nydam grabs Sam's hair, preparing to start round two.]

CUT TO:

[Mansion. Day. Fiona walks inside the place, carrying two oversized army sacks and a metal box. Michael sets up a table for them to use. She drops her luggage on the table. Seeing the amount of firepower she's brought. Michael gives her a look.]

FIONA GLENANNE: There's more, stashed under a Fort Lauderdale overpass.

[She pulls out a Magnum .44 revolver, checks it and places it on the table. They start to go through the guns.]

            {For any operative, stashing weapons is second nature after a while. Spies hide guns like squirrels hide acorns. You never know when you'll need some firepower, or where you'll be when you need it.}

MICHAEL WESTEN: If we need more than this, we're doing something very wrong.

FIONA GLENANNE: [smiling] Or something very right.

[As Michael moves a gun-bag aside, his cell phone rings. He answers it.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Hello?

INTERCUT WITH: [Boat. Day. In the hold, Harrick stands near Sam, who is still bound to the chair, his mouth duct-taped shut. Harrick speaks on Sam's cell phone.]

GLENN HARRICK: [into phone] I've got someone here who says he knows you. Sam?

[Camera pushes onto Michael's tense face. He answers immediately.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Yeah, he works for me.

GLENN HARRICK: [into phone] Oh, yeah? And what kind of work do you do?

            {Choosing a cover ID on the fly is always a challenge.}

[Michael looks through a telescopic lens as he speaks.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] My work?

GLENN HARRICK: [from phone] Yeah, your work. What was your man doing down at the docks taking pictures, huh?

            {When there's no time to think, it's best to go with something simple that keeps your options open.}

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone, quickly] I'm in the same business you're in. We're interested in your operation. I sent Sam down to do some research.

GLENN HARRICK: [into phone] Oh, yeah? That's not what Sam says.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] I don't train my employees to talk about my business. Listen to me, not to him. Who am I talking to?

GLENN HARRICK: [into phone] Hmm. I think you know enough about me for now. So answer a question. You thought what? You could just come down here and rip me off?

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] I'm just checking out the competition. Y'know, move to a new market, check out the lay of the land. Point is, the man you have is a valued employee. I want him back. I'm willing to deal.

GLENN HARRICK: [into phone] Let's set a meet. We'll figure out a price.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] I'm happy to negotiate, but I do not pay for damaged merchandise. I want proof of life.

GLENN HARRICK: [into phone] You got e-mail?

[Harrick walks out.]

[Michael mouths "e-mail" to Fiona.]

CUT TO:

[Boat. Day. Harrick enters the hold, carrying a digital camera.]

GLENN HARRICK: Wake up, Sammy boy. Picture time.

[He rips the duct tape off Sam's mouth as brusquely and painfully as he can.]

SAM AXE: [clears his throat] So, uh, probably gonna be my last photo, right? I mean, you got these plans to kill everybody. So I'm thinkin', I should look good for this, huh?

[Sam, though still bound to the chair, shifts his weight a bit to the left. He extends out the thumbs and index fingers of both hands, clenching the other fingers.]

GLENN HARRICK: Let's see.

[Harrick takes a picture of him.]

GLENN HARRICK: Nice. I'll send it to your mama.

[He walks out, leaving Sam sad and alone.]

CUT TO:

[Stock footage of Miami. Day.]

CUT TO:

[Storage Locker. Day. While Michael holds the picture of Sam, Fiona holds an aerosol can upside down as she sprays the lock with the liquid.]

            {Freon is available at most computer stores. Buy a can of screen duster, turn it upside down, and you've got it in liquid form. It's cold enough to crystallize the metal in many commercial locks. A hammer can take care of the rest.}

[Michael smashes the lock easily with the hammer. They enter the dark storage locker.]

FIONA GLENANNE: So this is Sam's storage locker. Phew!

MICHAEL WESTEN: We're looking for an old photo.

[They turn on a couple of lights.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: It'll be from the mid-nineties when we were working together.

FIONA GLENANNE: You really think Sam is sending us a message?

MICHAEL WESTEN: He's trying to get us any information he can. It's the pose in the photo. I've seen it before.

[Fiona seems more interested in a shotgun she finds. Michael opens an album and starts to look through it.]

            {One advantage of working with the same team, is that secure communication is simpler. You don't have to work out a secret code. If you have enough history, the code is in every picture, every memento, every autographed leg cast.}

[Fiona looks at an autographed leg cast. Michael finds the picture he's looking for and sighs sadly. Fiona looks at him.]

FIONA GLENANNE: What is it?

[She sits down next to him. She looks at the picture. It's a photo of Sam in the foreground, flanked by four guys. Sam's arms are crossed, his thumbs and index fingers outstretched, the other fingers clenched. Michael looks at Sam's hostage picture. The hand pose is identical.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Sam led a hostage rescue operation in Venezuela for some US businessmen. It was a setup. The hostages were bait for Sam's team. He lost a few men. He's saying "stay away". [somberly] He's not getting out of this alive.

CUT TO:

[Stock footage of Miami. Day.]

CUT TO:

[Mansion. Day. Near the pool, Nate swings a "recycled titanium" golf club, while Madeline stands nearby, arms folded. Michael comes out.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Good. You made it back. Was anyone there?

NATE WESTEN: Government types, Bro. Suits. There was a few plainclothes guys there too. I didn't even see 'em till after I got Mom.

MADELINE WESTEN: [complaining] Michael, I was just getting in the shower. He shows...

MICHAEL WESTEN: [interrupts] In a sec, Mom.

NATE WESTEN: Soon as we left the house, they came out like roaches, Bro .

MICHAEL WESTEN: Did you get rid of 'em? Did you ditch 'em?

NATE WESTEN: Oh, yeah. I drove around Little Haiti for an hour, out to Virginia Key and back. I mean, it was a bitch and a half. But unless they got invisible helicopters, I lost 'em.

MICHAEL WESTEN: And the car. Did you leave the car unattended when you went inside?

NATE WESTEN: Don't worry. I ditched that car. I picked up a new one.

 

MADELINE WESTEN: Uh-huh, stole it.

NATE WESTEN: It was, like, a fifteen-year-old Pontiac, Ma. I did the guy a favor taking it. Point is, we lost 'em. We're clean.  You think they're the same guys that shot Cowan?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Yeah.

MADELINE WESTEN: Michael, what is going on?

MICHAEL WESTEN: I'm not sure. All I know is this isn't just about following me anymore. They wanna bring me in.

MADELINE WESTEN: Who? Who is it? I don't know what you're talk...

MICHAEL WESTEN: [barely restraining his annoyance] I don't know! Covert intelligence agencies don't call you up and tell you why they're hunting you. Mom, just for now, I need you to stay here. No calls until I figure out what's going on.

MADELINE WESTEN: Here? Are you serious?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Mom, just until I know more.

[Pulling out his wallet, he turns to his brother.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Nate, I need you to pick up some disposable cell phones for [looks at his mother, enunciates] emergencies only.

[He gives Nate some money.]

NATE WESTEN: What are you gonna do?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Fi and I are gonna probe these guys, see how serious they are.

[He goes back in the mansion.]

CUT TO:

[Miami Street. Day. Michael and Fiona walk along the sidewalk.]

FIONA GLENANNE: Well, it's not a perfect location, but it's not bad either.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Just need something nice and traceable - a trail that the guys that killed Cowan can follow.

FIONA GLENANNE: Who you gonna call?

MICHAEL WESTEN: My old handler. If they're not listening to his line, they don't deserve to catch me.

[Reaching a payphone, Michael deposits a quarter and dials a number.]

FIONA GLENANNE: Hmm.

[As Michael waits for an answer, Fiona leans against a nearby parked car. When he gets an answer, Michael talks quickly and pleasantly. ]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Hi. Yes. Dan Siebels, please. Oh, this is Michael Westen. I need to talk to him. It's urgent. I have government agents following me. I'm not sure what agency they are. But I need help. Could you send a helicop...

[Click. The line goes dead.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [continues, into the receiver] ... ter? Okay. Good talking to you too.

[He places the receiver back. He and Fiona share a laugh.]

CUT TO:

[Highrise balcony overlooking payphone. Day. Michael and Fiona stand at the balcony, watching a couple of suits pace around the payphone.]

            {Surveillance is a two-way street. If you know someone's looking for you, you've got an advantage. They follow your lead, go where they think you are.}

MICHAEL WESTEN: Nice response time. Ten minutes. They're good.

[The tow suits watch the payphone.]

FIONA GLENANNE: Not that good. They're staring at a pay phone.

[Suddenly, Michael notices a black SUV racing along the street, towards their position. It drives into the parking area of the building they're in.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Oh, no, Fi. They are that good. Those guys are just to keep us busy. They know we're here.

[Michael and Fiona take to their heels.]

[Outside the building, they run into an alley. A black Mercedes blocks their way. Fiona aims her gun at the car.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Tires.

[She fires thrice. The bullets bounce off the tires, sparks flying. The sedan starts to maneuver towards them, trying to make a hard right along the narrow alley.]

FIONA GLENANNE: It's armored.

MICHAEL WESTEN: I'll see you back at Nate's.

[They split up. Michael runs along the alley. The Mercedes gives pursuit.]

            {Who drives armored cars? People who expect gunfire. Usually people with some firepower of their own.}

[As he runs, a red sedan comes in his way and swerves to avoid hitting him, blocking the alleyway. He slides off the hood, landing on his feet. Quickly, he thrusts his hand into the car, past the shocked lady driver, and yanks out her car keys from the ignition.]

LADY DRIVER: Hey! What are you doing? Hey!

MICHAEL WESTEN: Sorry about that!

[He throws the keys towards the Mercedes, as the lady keeps yelling at him. With the red car blocking the pursuing Mercedes, Michael runs off.]

WOMAN: Hey, you! Gimme my keys!

DISSOLVE TO:

[Mansion. Day. Michael stands near the pool, talking on the phone to Harrick. Michael holds Sam's hostage picture.]

GLENN HARRICK: [from phone] You ready to talk about how to get your guy Sam back?

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Yeah. You got a price?

[Fiona comes outside, carrying a yogurt, and joins him by the pool.]

GLENN HARRICK: [from phone] We'll get to that. First, I want to meet you and the girl together.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] The girl?

GLENN HARRICK: [from phone] You forgot already? Sure went through a hell of a lot of trouble to get her back.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] She has nothing to do with this.

GLENN HARRICK: [from phone] She's part of your operation. I wanna know who I'm dealing with. Those are my conditions.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Fine. But it's gonna take a couple of days to track her down.

GLENN HARRICK: [from phone] A couple of days?

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] After what happened, she went underground. If you wanna see her, you're gonna have to wait for me to find her.

GLENN HARRICK: [from phone] Don't take too long. I'm not sure Sam can hold out. He's got decent stamina. But everyone's got a breaking point, and I'm good at finding them.

[Michael looks at the picture.]

            {In a hostage situation, you have to be cruel to be kind. The more you care, the more leverage they have. Like buying a car. You have to make them think you can walk away.}

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Just so we're clear, I don't take damaged goods. You break it, you buy it. Got it?

GLENN HARRICK: [from phone] Call me when you find the girl.

[Michael hangs up.]

FIONA GLENANNE: I take it you just bought us more time.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Won't do us much good unless we find out who this guy is. All we know now is... he's got Sam and he intends to kill us.

[They start walking towards the house.]

FIONA GLENANNE: Any ideas?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Well, it's a pretty small world, when you're importing heroin at that level. I'll make a call.

CUT TO:

[Boat. Day. Harrick and Nydam walk into the hold, joining Sam.]

GLENN HARRICK: Well, it's your lucky day. Your boss really wants you back. Guess that's loyalty for ya.

SAM AXE: You think he's gonna deal for me? He's playin' with ya.

GLENN HARRICK: Oh, really?

SAM AXE: Look, I got caught. He's gonna kill me himself. Believe me, pal, you'd be doing me a big favor.

NYDAM: You got some death wish or somethin'?

SAM AXE: You're gonna do it anyway, aren'tcha? What, I gotta stay another day in this crappy metal box? Look, there's a sweet little park in Coral Gables. Just dump the body. Gimme a piece of paper. I'll draw you a map.

GLENN HARRICK: [gesturing with his hand] Yap, yap, yap, yap, yap. He knows if we kill him his team won't show. Nah. We need him alive.

[Harrick walks out, Nydam behind him. Sam shouts after them.]

SAM AXE: Fellas, you're only hurting yourselves. I'm telling ya. C'mon. A little rat poison! Easy-peasy!

[Sam sighs futilely.]

WIPE TO:

[Marina. Night. Michael walks along a pier, talking to a chubby guy, with a nice haircut and goatee.]

CHUBBY GUY: So you want me to put you in touch with a heroin dealer?

MICHAEL WESTEN: That is what I want.

CHUBBY GUY: Look, heroin, I'm allergic to it.

[He is...]

                                                           BARRY

                                                  MONEY LAUNDERER

BARRY: Don't need to touch it, don't need to see it. I think about it, I get, like, hives. Heroin dealers, seriously.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Not a favor.

BARRY: No, it's not. Favors don't get you killed. I give you a name, it gets back, we're in a "Barry facedown in the river" situation.

[Michael stops walking and talks seriously to Barry.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: I'm not asking, Barry. We're friends or we're enemies here.

BARRY: Well, if you put it that way.

MICHAEL WESTEN: I put it that way.

BARRY: You want the biggest heroin dealer in Miami? This guy's as big as you say, they're probably working together.

MICHAEL WESTEN: No. Who's the second biggest?

BARRY: [thinks] Mmm, there's this club up on 22nd - Deedo's. It's a place usually for smack trade. You're looking for Carmelo. He hangs out there, does a lot of business in the VIP room.

[Barry's cell phone rings. He answers it.]

BARRY: [into phone] Yeah?

[Barry looks at Michael and holds the cell phone out to him.]

BARRY: Uh, Mike, it's for you. Something about your burn notice.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Y'ello.

[A sexy female voice comes from the other end.]

WOMAN: [from phone] Come out, come out, wherever you are.

[Michael looks around.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Who's this?

WOMAN: [from phone] We need to talk, Michael. We've been trying to bring you in.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Talk about what?

WOMAN: [from phone] Your past, your future.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Oh, sweetie, I'm a little busy right now. Can you call me back?

[Hanging up, he holds the phone out to Barry. Barry holds his hands up.]

BARRY: Keep it. It's yours.

[Not wasting a second, Michael chucks it into the water.]

BARRY: We friends?

[They shake hands.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: We're friends, Barry.

[Michael walks off, leaving Barry looking uncertain.]

CUT TO:

[Mansion. Night. In the kitchen, Fiona cuts up a brick of C-4 explosive and hands it to Michael. He attaches a detonator to it and hands it to Nate, who takes it carefully. Madeline enters the kitchen, smoking.]

MADELINE WESTEN: Anything I can do to help in here?

[Michael holds up a finger.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: No, Mom. Please.

[Fiona looks wide-eyed at Michael, scared at the thought of a lit cigarette around the C-4.]

NATE WESTEN: We gotta get her to stop smokin', Bro. She's making me nervous.

[Michael wordlessly hands him another assembled bomb.]

FIONA GLENANNE: [quietly to Michael] She just wants to help, Michael.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [quietly] She can help by making sandwiches.

MADELINE WESTEN: Making explosives, are you, Michael?

[They stop and look at her. She smiles smugly at her.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Mom, there is some serious business going on here.

MADELINE WESTEN: I'm not stupid. I can see that.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Look. I was hoping to get you back home in a couple of days, but that doesn't look like it's gonna happen.

MADELINE WESTEN: [unhappy] What do you mean? I don't wanna stay here longer. I only brought a week's worth of clothes. And I got a poker game going at the house tomorrow.

MICHAEL WESTEN: No, Mom. You're going to have to leave town.

[Expecting another tirade from Madeline, Fiona makes a slow and wide-eyed exit.]

MADELINE WESTEN: Leave town?

MICHAEL WESTEN: With Nate.

MADELINE WESTEN: [stubbornly] No. I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying here with you, Michael. You're obviously in trouble.

MICHAEL WESTEN: No, it's not safe. You can't.

MADELINE WESTEN: I don't care if it's not safe here. I'm not leaving you.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Mom, please!

MADELINE WESTEN: Michael, I'm not afraid!

MICHAEL WESTEN: I know you're not afraid. But I am.

[She looks at him, understanding. She caresses his cheek.]

MADELINE WESTEN: [softly] It's okay. I'll go.

[She walks out of the kitchen, leaving Michael alone to work on the explosives. He looks at her walk off, feeling sorry.]

WIPE TO:

[Stock footage of Miami. Night.]

WIPE TO:

[Deedo's Club. Night. As the partygoers let loose on the dance floor, Fiona leans against the bar counter, carefully sticking a C-4 explosive under the counter. Her work done, she picks up her purse and joins Michael at another bar counter. Michael motions to a guy, in a private curtained-off area of the club, drinking champagne. The private area is guarded by a couple of burly bodyguards.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: There's our man right there.

[He is...]

                                                           CARMELO

                                                    HEROIN DEALER

                                                   (SECOND BIGGEST)

FIONA GLENANNE: Well, he looks like he's ready for trouble.

MICHAEL WESTEN: I'll bring him trouble then.

[Michael observes Carmelo in his private area. There are more bodyguards inside.]

            {There are some fights you just can't win. A force can be so overwhelming, that no tactical approach in a fight is going to lead to a victory worth having.}

FIONA GLENANNE: You sure you don't want me to stay?

MICHAEL WESTEN: No, Fi. You need to go. Now.

FIONA GLENANNE: Y'know, I'm usually all for the high risk, high reward option. [gestures towards Carmelo] But this...

MICHAEL WESTEN: If there was any other way, believe me...

[Michael takes a sip of his Martini.]

FIONA GLENANNE: [in his ear] Knock 'em dead.

[He smiles. She leaves. He starts to walk towards Carmelo.]

            {When you can't win in a fight, sometimes you have to settle for making sure that if you lose, everyone loses. It works for nuclear weapons, it works for me.}

[As he approaches the area, he starts to stagger as if drunk, barging past the two bodyguards outside. They turn and grab him.]

BODYGUARD: Hey.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [drawling] Oh, sorry. Private party. My bad.

[He turns to leave. Suddenly, he yanks the curtains closed and whacks the bodyguards in the throats with his fists, giving one a kick to the stomach for good measure, sending them gasping to the floor. He whips around and aims his gun at Carmelo. All the bodyguards get up immediately, aiming their guns at him. Carmelo looks at him calmly.]

CARMELO: [more a statement than a question] You got a death wish, my friend.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Back off.

CARMELO: [shaking his head] What do you want?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Send someone out into the club. I need them to check under the bar, under the stairs, under the chairs, for more of these.

[He holds up an assembled C-4 explosive, the detonator's red LED blinking. He hands it to Carmelo.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: That's exactly what it looks like. C-4 explosive with a remote detonator.

[Carmelo, still calm, motions to a bodyguard to go check.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: And this...

[He holds up a remote detonator. He pulls out the pin with his teeth and spits it away, holding the detonator tightly in his left hand.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: A remote detonator on a deadman switch. You shoot me, I let go of this button, and the city of Miami gets some brand-new undeveloped real estate.

[Carmelo motions to his men to lower their weapons. They comply immediately.]

CARMELO: What... do you want?

MICHAEL WESTEN: I just wanna talk. [conversationally] What are you drinking?

CARMELO: [sighs] Champagne. Would you like some?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Please.

[Michael sits as Carmelo pours him a glass. He takes a swig. Carmelo sits in front of him.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Ooh, that's nice. Little dry. But sometimes dry is a little refreshing.

CARMELO: Glad you like it. That why you're here? Put a bomb in my club so you can drink my champagne?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Partially. Also I need the name and location of a certain heroin importer. I need it quietly, and I need it now.

CARMELO: [narrows his eyes at Michael] And I should do this because...?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Because he's an importer. He sells to your competition. I put him out of business, it's a win for both of us. And, if you don't do what I want, I will rain hell down upon you until one of us is dead. And I am really, really good at raining down hell. I want an answer tomorrow.

[Michael gets up and starts to walk out.]

CARMELO: Who are you?

[Michael turns to Carmelo.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: I'm Michael Westen. I used to be a spy.

[Carmelo stares at Michael, as Michael walks out.]

CUT TO:

[Marina. Day. Michael stands on a pier. His cell phone rings. He answers it.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] You have a name for me.

CARMELO: [from phone] Guy's name is Glenn Harrick. He's got a boat on the river near the 27th Avenue Bridge. It cost me a lot of money to get that information.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] You've just done yourself a great favor, Carmelo.

CARMELO: [from phone] Do yourself one. Don't let me see you again. You take care of this guy, you stay out of my way, we're good. If I ever see your face again, I'll kill you, bomb or no bomb.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Agreed.

[Michael hangs up and walks off.]

CUT TO:

[Outside Boat. Day. Michael and Fiona sit in the Charger as they surveil the boat. The mercenaries patrol the boat, guns at the ready.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Oh, look. They survived Nate's exploding truck.

FIONA GLENANNE: Think they're keeping Sam here?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Fits the background in Sam's photo. Lots of rusted metal. And they probably got him down in the hold.

FIONA GLENANNE: Well, it makes sense, a barge. It's isolated, easy to defend.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [sighs] Guess it's time to set my meeting with Harrick.

[He starts to dial a number on his cell phone.]

FIONA GLENANNE: [hopefully] We could go in there now.

MICHAEL WESTEN: No, Fi. We're gonna do this the right way.

FIONA GLENANNE: Boring.

[Michael waits for an answer on his cell phone. Harrick answers.]

GLENN HARRICK: [from phone] Yeah.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] I'm ready to make a deal.

GLENN HARRICK: [from phone] All right. Let's set it up.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] I can meet today.

GLENN HARRICK: [from phone] The girl coming?

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Yeah. I tracked her down.

[Fiona smiles at Michael.]

GLENN HARRICK: [from phone] Fine. Four o'clock. Be at the Grove Harbor Marina.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Sounds good. One more thing. I talk to Sam before I come to the meeting. If he can't talk, if he doesn't sound healthy, I walk away. If he's anything less than a hundred percent, just kill him now and save us both some time.

GLENN HARRICK: [from phone] We'll take good care of him.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] You do that.

[Hanging up, he starts the car and drives away.]

CUT TO:

[Ship. Day. Wearing a wife-beater, Harrick walks into the hold, joining Nydam and Sam.]

GLENN HARRICK: [to Nydam] It'll be over today. [to Sam] Hey. I was thinkin' about it. Maybe you should draw me a picture of the map to that park. I'm gonna have to put your body somewhere, right?

[Harrick smiles diabolically at Sam.]

SAM AXE: Hey. Um, did he ask to talk to me before you meet? 'Cause I got news for you, buddy. I'm not gonna play ball. So you might as well just finish this right now.

GLENN HARRICK: You'll do whatever I want you to do. But until then, [to Nydam] please, keep him quiet.

[Nydam walks imposingly in front of Sam. Harrick starts to walk out, but stops as Sam speaks to Nydam.]

SAM AXE: Hey, um, so what were you? Army? I'm a Navy man myself, but, y'know, I've seen your boss's type before, and whatever shallow grave he dumps my body in, you're gonna be keeping me company there real soon, pal.

[Completely losing it, Harrick lunges at Sam and punches him hard across the face. Sam grunts and then breaks out laughing.]

SAM AXE: Y'know, I read in a book once that the things that make you the angriest are the things you know are true. Wise words, huh?

[Harrick cocks his gun and jams it into Sam's forehead, leaning close to Sam.]

GLENN HARRICK: [irate] I am getting so sick of your mouth!

SAM AXE: [to Nydam] Take a good look, buddy. 'Cause this is gonna be you real soon.

[His head bent to the side, with the weight on the gun, Sam laughs loudly. Nydam peels off some duct tape and applies it firmly against Sam's mouth, cutting off the laughter. Harrick calms down.]

GLENN HARRICK: Oh, I get it. I kill you, your man doesn't show, right?

[He pulls the trigger. Click! Sam's brains stay in his head.]

GLENN HARRICK: [seething] Nice try.

[He yanks the gun away from Sam's head. Breathing heavily, he walks out. Sam looks disappointed.]

CUT TO:

[Stock footage of Miami. Day.]

DISSOLVE TO:

[Mansion. Day. On the patio, Michael, carrying a big paper bag (filled with spy-related "groceries"), speaks to Nate.]

NATE WESTEN: I, uh, I got your buddy's Caddy.

[He hands Michael the keys.]

NATE WESTEN: I had a friend who deals in secondhand cars check it out. Looks clean. He also fixed the windshield on the Charger. So Mom said that you wanted me to go away with her?

MICHAEL WESTEN: I want you two somewhere safe.

NATE WESTEN: Tell me something. Why is it, if you're the responsible one, every time you run off and you do your spy thing, I gotta pick up the pieces?

MICHAEL WESTEN: [simply] Please.

NATE WESTEN: [sighs, smiles] I like this. You coming to me for help. It's... It feels good.

[He laughs, as Michael plasters a smile to his face,]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Yeah.

NATE WESTEN: It's like a fresh thing for us, you know?

MICHAEL WESTEN: It's great.

NATE WESTEN: Yeah.

MICHAEL WESTEN: You gonna do it?

NATE WESTEN: Of course, Bro.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Thanks.

[Michael walks inside the house.]

[Inside the house, Michael goes to work on his latest contraption. He carefully places a brick of C-4 explosive, wired to a cell phone, inside a plastic case. Fiona stands nearby, looking at boat schematics.]

FIONA GLENANNE: You'll probably need a moderate sized blast. The metal on that boat looked pretty worn. I'd go with something with more direction.

[Michael gives her a stare. She backs down.]

FIONA GLENANNE: But it'll do.

[He picks up an extendable yarn mop and screws a mount on the handle, exchanging a flirtatious look with Fiona. He places the explosive-carrying case on top of the mount. Fiona straps a couple of plastic cable ties around the case, firmly securing it to the mount. Michael snips off the extra parts of the ties. Fiona places the mop yarn on top of the case and cable-ties it to the mop handle.]

            {The sticky bomb was originally developed in World War II for mining tanks.}

[Michael spoons out a big helping of tile adhesive from a plastic bucket.}

            {For the homemade variety, tile adhesive works best. Sticky, waterproof, and it comes in an easily portable plastic bucket.}

[He applies the adhesive to the top of the mop yarn, again smiling at Fiona as he works. Finished, they put plastic cling-film around the yarn. Fiona bites off the cling-film and Michael unscrews the handle from the now-rigged mount. He collapses the handle.]

WIPE TO:

[Outside Mansion. Day. Madeline walks out of the house, smiling cheerfully. She walks up to Michael, who's loading her luggage into the Charger's trunk.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Mom, I'll call you when... if it's safe to come back.

[Putting the last of her bags inside the trunk, he pulls out a cell phone and hands it to her.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Here, take this. It's a new phone. It hasn't been used, so it's untraceable. It's for emergencies only. We wanna keep communication to a minimum.

MADELINE WESTEN: We're not taking your car from you, are we?

MICHAEL WESTEN: No. Whoever's coming after me might have eyes on it. So I'll drive you and Nate up to Fort Lauderdale. And that's where I'll... "find" you another car.

MADELINE WESTEN: [chuckles nostalgically] I remember the time you stole your first car. Dad was off God knows where, and I had to get Nate to the doctor. You must have been what, twelve?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Ten. I remember it. You were pretty angry.

MADELINE WESTEN: Yeah. I was also proud. You did a lot of things I didn't understand, but you did 'em for the family. [emotionally] Y'know, Michael, I did too.

MICHAEL WESTEN: I know, Mom. I know.

[She hugs him lovingly. He hugs her back. She fights back her tears.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: I know.

CUT TO:

[Miami Street. Day. Michael drives Nate and Madeline in the Charger. He hears a car swerving behind them and checks the rear-view mirror. He sees a couple of SUVs tailing them.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Nate, you make any calls today?

NATE WESTEN: No, Bro. You said not to.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Mom?

MADELINE WESTEN: Um, I-I called home to check messages, but I used the secure phone that you gave me.

[Michael clenches his teeth in consternation.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [gently] If you call a tapped phone from an untapped... [tightens his lips, then...] Never mind. That's how they're following us. I need that phone right now.

[He holds out his hand for the phone. Confused, Madeline puts it in his hand.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: This phone is no longer secure. From now on, let's make this simple. Make no calls!

MADELINE WESTEN: [chastised] Fine.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Nate, I'm gonna pull over and get out.

NATE WESTEN: Wait a minute. You said they were following us.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Yeah, they want me. When I get out, you go. You don't stop for anything. You got it?

NATE WESTEN: Yeah. Be careful.

[Changing lanes quickly, Michael swerves the Charger in front of two other cars. He stops suddenly and jumps out of the car, holding his arms outwards - insecure cell phone in one hand, gun in the other. The other cars screech to a halt. The tailing SUVs also stop. Nate drives off in the Charger. Michael aims the gun at one of the car drivers, who opens his door.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [ordering] Stay in the car.

[He dials a number on the insecure cell phone and speaks.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] I know this line is tapped. I know you're listening. I don't know who you are, but I know this...

[The suits in the SUVs get out and aim their guns at Michael.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: You want me to come in alive, you call me now, or I will end this right here.

[He holds the gun under his jaw. He waits, as the suits keep their guns trained on him. The phone rings. He answers it.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Hello.

[The same sexy female voice from before speaks to him.]

WOMAN: [from phone] Michael, don't do anything stupid.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] I have a proposal I'd like to discuss.

WOMAN: [from phone] I'm listening.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] I have a job to do. I need twelve hours. You give me that, I will come in alive. If you don't, if you even come near me before that, I will put a bullet in my head.

WOMAN: [from phone] You wouldn't do that, Michael. You've got such a bright future.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Maybe, maybe not. You give me twelve hours, you don't need to find out.

[A long beat. The tension mounts as the suits keep their guns on him. Then, suddenly, they all put their hands to their ears and obey the "stand down" order. They lower their weapons.]

WOMAN: [from phone] I believe we have a deal.

[Hanging up, Michael runs off.]

CUT TO:

[Outside Mansion. Day. Michael and Fiona (dressed for action) walk outside, carrying duffel bags. Sam's Caddy is parked outside. ]

FIONA GLENANNE: You think it's okay to take Sam's car on the street? Those government types.

MICHAEL WESTEN: I bought myself a couple of hours before they pick me up. Might as well drive it till then.

FIONA GLENANNE: You're really gonna go with 'em?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Yeah, Fi.

[Michael starts to load their stuff into the trunk of the Caddy.]

FIONA GLENANNE: [indignant] They shot Cowan in front of you.

MICHAEL WESTEN: They didn't shoot me. I want to know what's going on, and I told 'em I'd meet 'em.

FIONA GLENANNE: You're a spy, Michael. Why don't you just lie? That's what spies do, you know? If you wanna run...

MICHAEL WESTEN: This is not about honor and I'm not running anymore. I want answers, and this is the only way to find them.

[He shuts the trunk and sighs,]

MICHAEL WESTEN: You ready?

[She looks at him, a bit sadly.]

FIONA GLENANNE: It's been fun, Michael. At least this time we get to say good-bye.

[She kisses him on the cheek. He caresses her neck.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Thank you, Fi.

[They kiss. He walks around to the driver's seat, while Fiona looks gloomily after him.]

DISSOLVE TO:

[Boat. Day. Harrick walks along the cabin, as he speaks to one of his henchmen.]

GLENN HARRICK: You get over to the Grove Harbor Marina. I'll call, put his guy on the phone. You wait until he gets there with the girl. Understood?

MERC: Yeah.

GLENN HARRICK: Okay. Put two in both their heads and call me when you're done.

MERC: Got it.

[They walk outside onto the deck.]

GLENN HARRICK: Get outta here.

[The merc snaps his fingers at another guy, beckoning him.]

MERC: Let's go.

[On a building opposite the boat, Fiona climbs up to the terrace, lugging her packed sniper rifle along. Reaching a good spot, she unzips the bag, removing the rifle from it. She takes aim towards the mercenaries' boat. She speed-dials Michael.]

FIONA GLENANNE: [into phone] Looks like they're leaving a three-man team on the boat.

[Michael sits on the gangplank of another boat in the boatyard, wearing a diving suit, a bag slung over his shoulder.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] I'm off to crash the party.

[Hanging up, he puts on underwater goggles and holds a small diving tank with his mouth. Jumping into the water, he submerges himself. Underwater, he heads for the mercenaries' boat, carrying the extendable mop handle.]

[Nydam stands outside on the deck of the boat.]

[Michael resurfaces underneath the boat's gangplank. Removing the "sticky bomb" from the bag, he screws it on the mop handle. Removing the cling-film, he raises it and presses it against the gangplank. Ensuring that it holds, he unscrews the handle off. Finished, he goes under again.]

[On the deck, Nydam smokes a cigar as he paces around. Just as he passes the railing, Michael tosses up an anchor, connected tor a rope. The anchor attaches itself to the railing.]

            {A lot of people think the word "commando" means superhero, or at least something close to it.}

[Michael climbs up the side of the ship, with the help of the rope.]

            {In the popular mind, they're thought of as the ultimate elite soldier - the solution to every problem. The fact is, a commando is just someone trained to fight under a specific set of circumstances.}

[On the deck, he climbs over the railing and tosses the anchor and rope into the drink. He goes to the side and starts to remove his diving suit.]

            {He's the guy you send in when there are more bad guys than good guys, when surprise is the only advantage you can get in an operation. When it works, commandos seem unstoppable. Those are the operations that make the papers. When it doesn't  work, commandos get killed just as dead as anyone else.}

[He stuffs the suit and diving apparatus into the bag and throws it overboard. He goes inside the boat.]

[Inside, Harrick speaks on the cell phone as he walks to the hold.]

GLENN HARRICK: [into phone] Hey. You there? Okay, good. Here's what's gonna happen. When they get there, you kill 'em both. And make sure they're dead. You got that? All right. I'm gonna call the guy now.

[He enters the hold. He rips the duct tape off Sam's mouth.]

SAM AXE: Morning, sunshine.

GLENN HARRICK: [smiling] Hmm. Here's what we're gonna do. We're gonna call your boss. You're gonna say "hello". And if you act really nice, I'll finish you quick.

SAM AXE: And if I don't?

GLENN HARRICK: Well, then I'll have to find another way to hunt him down, which means I have to kill you little by little until I find him. But, hey, Sam, your choice.

SAM AXE: [cynically] Boy. They both sound pretty good. Can I have a few minutes to make up my mind?

GLENN HARRICK: No.

[Harrick dials Michael's number and puts the phone to his ear. As the line rings, they hear a cell phone ringing outside the hold. Harrick turns his head towards the sound, confused. Sam understands. Harrick hangs up. The cell phone stops ringing. With a suspicious look at Sam, he pulls out his gun and cocks it. Carefully, he walks to the door and yanks it open. He moves outside slowly. He whips to the left - nothing. He looks down and sees Michael's phone on the ground. He bends to pick it up. Just, at that moment, Michael jumps down the ladder (next to the hold door) and lands his elbow into Harrick's back. Harrick recovers quickly enough to elbow Michael in the face. HE goes for a punch, but Michael dodges it expertly, grabbing him in a chokehold.]

SAM AXE: Kick his ass!

[Harrick jerks his head back, knocking Michael off balance. Grabbing Michael's arm, he whips him into the wall. They trade a few blows and grapple. Michael connects with two jabs to the ribs, but Harrick sends his elbow into Michael's face. Michael pulls an electric fan off the wall and brings it down hard on Harrick's head. He tries to grab him in a chokehold again, but Harrick ducks out of hit and slams Michael face-first against the wall, with two jabs to the ribs. Michael goes for an elbow to the face, but Harrick expertly blocks it and connects with one of his own. He yanks Michael and pushes him into the opposite wall, trying to choke him from behind. Michael forces his left arm around and punches Harrick hard in the stomach with his right. With Harrick doubled over, Michael pulls open a chute door, close by, making it slam Harrick hard in the head. Harrick recoils. Michael goes for another elbow to the face, but Harrick blocks it and kicks Michael in the stomach.]

SAM AXE: [jumping in his seat] Come on, Mike.

[Holding Michael from behind, Harrick shoves him towards the ladder, both of them shouting. Michael's head hits the ladder. Harrick flips Michael to the ground and drops his foot onto Michael's chest. Michael grunts in pain. Harrick drops to his back, grabbing Michael in a deadly chokehold. Sam, noticing Harrick's head jutting through the open doorway to the hold, starts shifting his weight, moving the chair towards the two combatants. Harrick's chokehold seems to be getting the better of Michael. Sam gets closer to the large iron door. As he struggles, Michael notices the gun stuck in Harrick's left shoe. He starts pulling for it. With the chair, Sam hits the iron door towards Harrick. The door strikes Harrick's head, making him release Michael. Michael jumps away, holding Harrick's shoe-gun. Harrick lunges for his gun. He whirls round to shoot, but Michael fires first, hitting Harrick point-black in the stomach. Harrick reacts with shock at being shot, too weak to take a shot.]

[On the deck, the other mercenaries hear the shot and start running towards the cabin door. At that moment, Fiona opens fire with her sniper rifle, hitting the door. The mercs scatter away from the door. Nydam runs, gun drawn, towards another door, but Fiona thwarts him with a few bullets striking close to him. He drops to the floor.]

[Inside, Harrick shakily touches his wound, still in shock.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: I've seen that wound before. I don't know what ammo you have in here, but if it's Teflon-coated, you have about a half an hour. But if they're hollow point, [ruthlessly] I wouldn't make any plans.

[Walking past Harrick, he enters the hold.]

[Outside, Fiona continues to fire, keeping the mercs under cover.]

[Inside, Michael unties Sam.]

SAM AXE: I thought I told you to stay away, Mikey. I tried to warn ya.

[Michael cuts Sam's binds.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: I was never good at taking orders, Sam. That's why you were a soldier, and I was a spy.

SAM AXE: Fair enough.

[Completely untied, Sam jumps up from his seat. He and Michael rush out.]

[Outside, Fiona keeps Nydam at bay with some expert shooting.]

FIONA GLENANNE: Come on, Michael.

[Inside, Michael and Sam run towards the deck.]

[Outside, Fiona dials the number of the cell phone, wired to the sticky bomb. Just then, Sam and Michael come sprinting out from inside the cabin. They hurry down the gangplank. The mercs scramble to give chase. Fiona presses the "OK" button on her cell phone. The gangplank explodes behind Michael and Sam, sending the mercs diving for cover. Michael and Sam make a quick getaway.]

CUT TO:

[Miami Street. Day. Michael drives the Caddy, Sam (bruised and bloodied) in the passenger seat.]

SAM AXE: Y'know, I was thinking about this car when they had me. I thought, "I'm gonna die before the Cadillac loses its new-car smell."

MICHAEL WESTEN: I'd never let that happen, Sam.

[Sam looks gratefully at Sam.]

SAM AXE: Mike, uh, seriously...

MICHAEL WESTEN: You would have done it for me.

SAM AXE: [sincerely] Damn right, brother.

[The navigation device chimes.]

SAM AXE: Mike, you been using the navigation thingy?

MICHAEL WESTEN: No, I didn't...

[Sam hits the phone button on his OnStar control panel. A male voice speaks.]

MALE VOICE: [over speaker] OnStar, Mr. Westen.

[Michael and Sam exchange a look.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: How do you know my name?

[The panel chimes again.]

MALE VOICE: [over speaker] Directions are being sent to your vehicle. Your destination is one hundred ten miles away.

MICHAEL WESTEN: My destination?

SAM AXE: Mike, what's goin' on?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Time to get some questions answered, one way or another.

SAM AXE: Burn notice, huh?

MICHAEL WESTEN: [nods] Uhh, I need to borrow the Caddy.

SAM AXE: No problem.

[Michael drops Sam near a house. They shake hands genially.]

SAM AXE: Good luck, Mike.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Thanks, Sam.

[Sam gets out of the Cadillac. Michael drives away.]

DISSOLVE TO:

[Miami Causeway. Day. Following the OnStar's directions, Michael drives onto the causeway. He drives along the mostly-secluded causeway. In front of him, a large semi-truck pulls to a halt. The OnStar panel chimes.]

MALE VOICE: [over speaker] You have arrived at your destination, Mr. Westen.

[Michael sees the semi-truck has the back of the trailer open, with its retractable ramp open. Michael stops near the ramp. He sighs deeply. His cell phone rings. He answers it.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone, nonchalantly] Hello.

WOMAN: [from phone] Michael, we're so looking forward to meeting you.

[Fast-paced music plays as Michael, smiling wryly, hangs up. With another deep sigh, he starts to drive up the ramp.]

            {When you work in intelligence, you get used to the idea that some information is worth risking everything for.}

[He drives inside the darkened trailer.]

            {You sign up for the lifestyle, or the chance to serve your country, or the millions of frequent flyer miles.}

[He stops the car.]

            {But, finally, it all comes down to putting your ass on the line to learn something. }

[The trailer door closes, ominously, plunging Michael into darkness.]

CUT TO:

[Closing credits.]

FADE TO BLACK.
End of Season 1. Hope you enjoyed it. Season 2 transcripts follow immediately.
-R

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