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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.]

            {You do whatever work comes your way.}

[He fires at a propane tank on his Charger, blowing up the front portion of his car, to keep Evelyn (the assassin) at bay.]

[He detonates a C-4 explosive to impress Ari Zamar.]

        {You rely on anyone who's still talking to you...}

[He and Sam Axe walk and talk.]

[He creeps along a dirty terrace, video camera in hand, in the process of framing Alvaro Desantos.]

[He laughs at Walter's (the art dealer) suggestion about collecting nude Greco-Roman statues.]

        {A trigger-happy ex-girlfriend.}

[Fiona fires a machine gun, loving every moment of it.]

[He kisses her in bed, after their lovers' fistfight.]

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

FIONA GLENANNE: Should we shoot them?

        {An old friend who used to inform on you to the FBI.}

[Sam smiles at Michael as he suns himself.]

[Sam ducks just in time to avoid being shot by Jamaican gangsters. The rear-view mirror isn't as lucky, though.]

[He looks through binoculars.]

[He and Axe Sam talk in a cafe.]

SAM AXE: You know spies. Bunch of bitchy little girls.

        {Family, too.}

[Michael's mother, Madeline, smiles at him.]

[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 holds a gun out as he looks around his loft.]

        {Bottom line...}

[He and Sam make a hasty getaway from the exploding gangplank of drug-smugglers' boat.]

[He drives quickly away in his Charger.]       

            {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. Night.]

 

FLASH-CUT TO:

[Michael's Loft. Night. Michael sits upstairs, at the workbench, hunched over Carla's crossword puzzle, left for him (previous episode).]

            {In the world of intelligence, if an operative hands you a crossword puzzle, chances are you've just received a coded message.}

[Looking at the puzzle through holes made on the facing page, he writes down the message on a notepad. The decoded message so far is:

            MEET AT MARINA MALL.]

            {It's the art of steganography - sending coded messages that don't look like messages unless you have the key.}

[He writes down the last word - NOON - and underlines it.]

 

FLASH-CUT TO:

[Marina Mall. Day. Michael, Sam and Fiona pull up to the mall entrance in the Charger.]

FIONA GLENANNE: So, does this new handler of yours set all her meetings with crossword puzzles? [teasing] Or is she just flirtin' with ya?

[Michael doesn't much care for the tease.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: These people burned me, blacklisted me and threatened my family. I think we're a little past flirting.

[They get out of the Charger. Michael walks around to the pavement and throws Fiona the car keys.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Keep the engine running. If you see her leave...

FIONA GLENANNE: Tail her. I know. We can't take more proactive measures? There's room in the trunk.

MICHAEL WESTEN: The idea is to find out who she's working for _without_ her knowing, Fi. It calls for something a little more subtle than throwing her in the trunk. [to Sam] You ready, Sam?

[Sam, holding a camera, with a long lens, starts walking with Michael, towards the entrance.]

SAM AXE: All set. Listen, Mike, uh, I hate to bring this up, but is this gonna take a while? 'Cause I got a meeting of my own I gotta get to.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Yeah, the pilates class with Veronica. Fi told me.

SAM AXE: [rolls his head] Look, it's a great way to strengthen your core, okay? Gimme a break, will you? I'm in the doghouse with Veronica, and it's all your fault.

[Michael looks at Sam, surprised at the accusation.]

SAM AXE: Yeah. She's still all over me about how the Cadillac got [mock-mimicking Veronica's voice] all banged up.

MICHAEL WESTEN: I won't make you late, Sam. Just make sure you get a shot of Carla before you go.

[They split up as they enter the mall, past the throng of shoppers.]

            {In covert ops, you always wanna be the one setting the meeting.}

[Michael walks past the shoppers, as Sam clicks pictures of people on the ground from his lookout point on the second floor.]

            {When you're following someone else's instructions, they set the agenda, they control the security, and they get to make you jump through hoops to remind you they are in charge.}

[Michael walks a few more steps, when he is greeted by a cheerful and familiar voice behind him.]

CARLA: Hello, Michael.

[Michael stops and smiles. He turns around and looks at the beautiful lady, sitting at a table, holding a scarlet travel mug in her hand.]

CARLA: Can I get you something to drink?

[She smiles alluringly at him. More specifically, she is...]

                                                           CARLA
                                                  THE NEW HANDLER

[Michael, smiling equally wide, removes his sunglasses and sits down.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: I'll have what you're having.

CARLA: [chuckles] I don't think they serve Qishr here.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Mmm, Yemenese coffee.

CARLA: I prefer to brew it myself. Drinks you get in restaurants, you never... quite know what's in them, do you? Thank you for meeting me at the mall. Work has been so busy that I just don't get the time to shop.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Well, we can't have that. Give me your boss' number. I'll give him a call.

CARLA: Cute.

[She puts a paper shopping bag on the table. She motions for him to look inside. Michael reaches into the bag and removes a transparent plastic card, which looks quite high-end.]

CARLA: It's a security badge. Integrated circuit processor, embedded hologram over laminate patch makes it damn near impossible to duplicate.

[Michael, acting impressed, whistles out loud as he fans himself with the badge.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Where'd you get it?

CARLA: That's not your concern. What you need to know is there's one counterfeiter in Miami who can forge it. A Tunisian. Name's Nefzi.

MICHAEL WESTEN: You're gonna introduce us?

CARLA: No, you're gonna make the approach on your own. That's the way we do things, and that's why we like working with people like you. We'd like the duplicate and the original back in two days.

[Michael dumps the badge back into the bag and places the bag at his side on the floor.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Then... what?

[She looks at him quizzically.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: We're done with the burn notice? I get my life back?

CARLA: [chuckles] It's not that simple, Michael - not by a long shot. But playing nice has its rewards.

[She places another paper shopping bag on the table. He looks inside and sees a pile of $2000-wads inside.]

CARLA: You can keep whatever you don't give to Nefzi.

[Michael whistles through his teeth as he places the money bag next to the badge bag. Carla gets up. Michael looks towards Sam's lookout point on the second floor. No one's there. Carla also looks the same direction.]

CARLA: Looking for Sam?

[Michael feigns ignorance.]

CARLA: Y'know, Michael, I brought friends, too.

[A tough-looking guy, wearing sunglasses, walks up to her and hands her Sam's long-lens camera and tosses the Charger's keys on the table.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: What did you do?

[Carla removes the memory stick from the camera.]

CARLA: Oh, don't worry. They're fine.

[Unceremoniously, she drops the camera to the floor. As she leaves, she smiles at Michael.]

CARLA: Next time, the kids stay home.

[Michael watches her walk away, troubled.]

 

CUT TO:

[Opening title.]

 

CUT TO:

[Michael's Loft. Day. An unharmed Fiona (phew!) takes a yogurt out of the fridge as she speaks to Michael.]

FIONA GLENANNE: Carla's guys were good. I never saw 'em coming. They way they covered their approach, it was impressive. A polite bunch, too, for countersurveillance types.

[She joins Michael at the kitchen bench, where be works on fixing Sam's camera.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [holding up the camera] Not with this.

FIONA GLENANNE: [shrugs] Sam still pouting?

MICHAEL WESTEN: It was Veronica's.

[Fiona, her mouth full with yogurt, grunts sympathetically for Sam. Michael sets the camera down carefully and holds up the security badge.]

FIONA GLENANNE: What's the security badge for?

MICHAEL WESTEN: I don't know. Figure that out, we might be able to answer a few questions. I gotta find a Tunisian counterfeiter.

[She sits cross-legged on a wooden cable reel, doubling as a table.]

FIONA GLENANNE: What about Barry? He's a weasel. But he launders money for half of Miami. He can probably put you in touch.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Yeah, Barry didn't enjoy our last meeting. He's dodging me. Avoiding Sam's calls, too.

[He takes a yogurt out of the fridge.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Nope. Gonna need a fresh face... someone he won't expect.

[He points his spoon at Fiona hopefully. She gives him a "not-gonna-happen" look. He gives her a "c'mon" shrug.]]

FIONA GLENANNE: You know how I feel about money launderers. The last one I dealt with, they're still finding pieces of him all over Belfast.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [charmingly] Do it for me?

FIONA GLENANNE: Your charms no longer have any effect on me, Michael.

[Michael pouts a little.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Do it for all the yogurt you can eat?

[He holds out a spoonful of yogurt in front of her. Fiona looks at the spoon, really tempted by the offer. She bites and purses her lips as she considers it. Michael smiles appealingly at her, as he moves the spoon closer to her mouth.]

FIONA GLENANNE: Fine.

[She shoves her spoon into his tub of yogurt and takes a big spoonful, leaving him hanging, with his spoon still held outwards.]

FIONA GLENANNE: But I can't promise that I won't kill him.

[She swallows the spoonful of yogurt. Michael, awkwardly and unsurely, withdraws the spoon. His cell phone rings, saving him from looking any lamer than he does. He answers it.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Yeah, Sam?

SAM AXE: [from phone] Hey, Mike. I'm, uh, headed to the Carlito. Um, look, there's a thing I need to talk to you about right away.

[As Michael walks away, he looks at Fiona, still wondering what just happened, about the yogurt.]

 

DISSOLVE TO:

[Stock footage of Miami. Day. Michael drives his Charger on a causeway.]

 

DISSOVE TO:

[Restaurante Carlito. Day. Michael walks outside the restaurant and notices Sam speaking to an attractive Hispanic lady, who seems a bit troubled.]

LADY: I hope he will come.

SAM AXE: [comfortingly] He'll be here. He'll be here.

[Michael, recognizing another of Miami's unfortunate, can't-go-to-the-cops-need-help-immediately people, turns around as stealthily as he can, trying not to get Sam's attention. But nothing can escape the eagle-eyed ex-SEAL's gaze and he sees Michael trying to make a quick getaway.]

SAM AXE: Hey, Mike.

Sam runs after Michael.]

SAM AXE: Whoa! Whoa! Hey! Hold up. Mike.

[Michael turns round to face Sam, as the latter approaches him.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Is this a job, Sam? It's not a good time for a job.

SAM AXE: Look, I know you got this whole counterfeiting thing. But just-just hear her out. She's a real sweetheart. She's got a problem with a stalker.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Stalker?

SAM AXE: Yeah.

MICHAEL WESTEN: You were a Navy SEAL. You can't handle this?

SAM AXE: Yeah, well, look, normally I'd handle it with a few stern words and a baseball bat, but this is kind of a... kind of a delicate situation. Plus, she asked me in front of Veronica.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [prompting for more specifics] So-o-o-o?

SAM AXE: [softly] When I'm on a job, it turns her on. It's all I can do to keep up. The things this woman does...

MICHAEL WESTEN: Got it.

SAM AXE: [continues] I'm trying to get some, too...

MICHAEL WESTEN: [shaking his hands to get Sam to shut up] Got it. Got it. I got it!

[Michael, always ready to help enhance a friend's sex life (so long as he doesn't hear about it), walks inside. Sam happily pats him on the back and walks with him to the table where the client sits.]

[Soon, with cursory introductions and small-talk out of the way, they get down to brass tacks. The client seems almost on the verge of tears, as she speaks.]

CLIENT: His name is Raul. I met him at the restaurant where I'm a hostess. He calls me all the time.

[She is...]

                                                           SOPHIA
                                                     THE CLIENT

SOPHIA: I say I'm not interested, but... he thinks I am teasing.

SAM AXE: [sipping his drink ] The guy won't take "hit the road, Raul" for an answer.

SOPHIA: He pays all the bartenders at the restaurant to tell him who I talk to. And every day he just comes... he comes and watches me.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Have you gone to the police?

SOPHIA: Yes. They say they cannot do anything unless he hurts me. But he gets so angry. Every day it gets worse. I don't wanna wait until something terrible happens.

SAM AXE: It's gonna be fine. Like I told you, Mike is the best in the business.

[Michael looks at Sam, narrowly. Sam nods at him.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: I'll see what I can do.

[Sophia cheers up a bit and smiles.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: What time does Raul usually show up at the restaurant?

SOPHIA: At the restaurant? Ay, no. Por dios, you can't. Raul, he's a very big customer. If you make a problem there, I will lose my job.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Okay, it's fine. Don't worry about it. We can meet him somewhere else. Just tell us where to find him.

SOPHIA: Uhm...[thinks] I go to church every day.

 

CUT TO:

[Outside Church. Day. Michael and Sam sit in Sam's Caddie, watching the church, waiting for the church-goers to exit.]

SOPHIA: [voice-only] Raul always wants to pick me up.

[Inside the car, Sam drinks a milkshake from a paper-cup (with a straw) and eats chips from a bag.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: How did you and Sophia meet, exactly?

SAM AXE: Ah, we're in the same cooking class.

[As he bites into a chip, Michael looks at him, quizzically.]

SAM AXE: [catching the look, explaining] Oh, Veronica set it up. Y'know, it was one of those things where they get a famous chef in, and they crack open a couple eggs and a bottle of wine.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Not exactly the kind of thing that a hostess makin' minimum wage signs up for.

[Michael's phone rings. In the background, the church doors open and people start to exit.]

SAM AXE: Dunno. She wants to be a chef. Musta saved up.

[Not quite convinced, Michael answers his phone.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Yeah, Ma?

INTERCUT WITH: [Madeline's House. Day. Madeline speaks to Michael on the phone.]

SPLIT-SCREEN: [Madeline on the left, Michael and Sam on the right.]

MADELINE WESTEN: [into phone] Michael, you still haven't fixed my coffee-maker, and I can't find the warranty.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Warranty? That thing was built in 1967.

MADELINE WESTEN: [into phone] Well, I need it for my poker game. Can you come over later?

[Sam notices something outside and taps Michael's shoulder.]

SAM AXE: There he is, Mike.

[Michael, his ear still to the phone, looks and sees a Hispanic guy, sitting in a red Porsche convertible, looking impatient.]

MADELINE WESTEN: [from phone] Hello?

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Yeah, I'll be there. See you later, Ma.

[He hangs up quickly. Seeing the guy getting out of the car, he puts his binoculars to his eyes to get a better look at...]

                                                           RAUL
                                                    THE STALKER

[Michael notices that Raul has a sub-machine gun under his jacket, making no real attempt to hide it. In fact, he seems to almost want to display it to whoever looks.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: That stalker happens to have a Mac-10 in his jacket!

[Sam looks away, a guilty look on his face. Michael stares daggers and arrows at him.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [low voice, accusingly] Oh, you knew, didn't ya?

SAM AXE: Mike, look, I did a little pre-scouting, but I-I knew he was packin'. I didn't know he had a Mac-10. I thought it was like a regular gun.

[Yeah, big difference! Michael glowers a little more at Sam. He turns towards the church and sees Sophia and Raul standing together. A guy waves at Sophia cheerfully; she returns the wave with a smile. Raul doesn't seem to appreciate the friendly gesture too much.]

SAM AXE: Look, I'm in a jam, and this girl Sophia, she's in real trouble.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Yeah!

SAM AXE: I just need a little help.

[Raul grabs Sophia gruffly by the arm and pulls her towards his car. Michael can't help but feel for her, despite his suspicions about her.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: We're gonna have to do recon.

[Sam nods.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: You're buying lunch.

SAM AXE: [brightly] Okay, you got it, Mikey. I'm starving, anyway.

[So says the guy with the milkshake and big bag of chips in his hands, as he starts the Caddie. Michael watches Raul wait for Sophia to enter the car, then slam the door and go over the other side. Sam and he drive off.]

 

CUT TO:

[Stock footage of Miami. Day.]

 

CUT TO:

[Day spa. Day. In a private room, a bathrobe-clad chubby, bearded guy lies on a recliner, as soothing music plays in the background. He has a green facial mask on, with cucumber slices on his eyes. He hears someone enter.]

CHUBBY GUY: [holds up an empty glass] Need a refill here, hon.

[A shadow comes over his face and... SPLASH! He gets a jugful of water in his face, washing away most of his facial mask. Poor...]

                                                           BARRY
                                                THE MONEY LAUNDERER

[Grunting, he sits up and looks at the offending person. Seeing it's Fiona gives him an even bigger fright.]

BARRY: Oh!

FIONA GLENANNE: Hard man to find.

[Barry, scared but still sounding calm, holds up his hands.]

BARRY: Just tell Mike it's not personal, okay? Last time I saw him, there was this kind of, uh, y'know, "do this for me or we're enemies for life" vibe. It scared me a little.

FIONA GLENANNE: Barry, he just needs some information.

BARRY: All right.

[He chuckles in relief.]

FIONA GLENANNE: We're looking for a Tunisian counterfeiter. You know any?

BARRY: Tunisian? Where is Tunisia, even? Is that next to Spain or something? Listen, I got to be out of here. I got a rubdown in, like, two minutes.

[Having enough, Fiona grabs Barry's left upper brow, close to the eye, and starts to twist it painfully. Barry, feeling the pain and letting her know it with polite-sounding "Ow"s, lies back down on the recliner.]

BARRY: All right, all right. I got it.

[Fiona releases his brow and wipes off the facial mask gunk on her hand on his bathrobe, a disgusted expression on her face.]

BARRY: Uh, Nefzi. You're talkin' about Nefzi. You don't wanna deal with him, trust me. He's the go-to guy for all the hardcore stuff - fake money for coke deals, counterfeit passkeys for bank robberies - stuff that gets people killed. Plus, he's the most arrogant son of a bitch in South Florida.

FIONA GLENANNE: Where can we find him?

BARRY: [sighs] He operates out of a TV-repair store down in South Miami. Word is, Nefzi was part of the security force for the Tunisians back in the early '80s. Nasty. If he brings out the electrodes, [winks] I'd leave.

FIONA GLENANNE: You see, that wasn't so hard, was it, Barry?

BARRY: We're done here?

[Fiona gives him a threatening "Hmm-hmm", which seems to mean "be happy you're still alive".]

BARRY: Okay. 'Cause if you want, I can arrange a massage for you or something. [pushing his luck] Dinner after?

[Fiona, not quite feeling Barry's charm, turns around and picks up a blackhead remover from the table nearby. She whips back round to Barry, holding the sharp-looking instrument, causing Barry to recoil.]

FIONA GLENANNE: Who needs electrodes when you have one of these?

[She twirls the blackhead remover in front of him, menacingly.]

BARRY: Hey, I was just asking.

 

DISSOLVE TO:

[Madeline's House. Day. Michael works on the ruined coffee-maker, at the kitchen island.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Y'know, they stopped making parts for this when Nixon was president. I'm gonna get you a new one.

[Madeline, a cigarette in her hand, walks over to him.]

MADELINE WESTEN: Y'know, Michael, I've started seeing a counselor. And she said that there are unresolved issues between you and me.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [dripping with sarcasm] Really?

[He goes around the island, into the kitchen area, to get more tools.]

MADELINE WESTEN: And she'd like you to come to the sessions.

[Taking the tools out of a bag, he goes back round to the coffee-maker.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Counseling with you? Yeah, uh, now's not a really good time 'cause I have a lot on my plate. I'm just gonna throw this out.

[He puts the coffee-maker into the cardboard box nearby.]

MADELINE WESTEN: You know, I've been waking up with night sweats ever since you sent me to Fort Lauderdale because of those men with guns who were chasing you, Michael.

[Michael puts all the coffee-maker parts into the box.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Fine. [reluctantly] I will go with you.

MADELINE WESTEN: [happily] I knew you'd think it was a good idea. So I made our first appointment for tomorrow.

[As she walks away, Michael looks up in bewilderment. His ringing cell phone again rescues him from looking lost. He dumps the last part of the coffee-maker into the box, the bewildered look still on his face.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: I'm gonna take this.

[He answers the phone.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Yeah, Sam?

SAM AXE: [into phone] Mike, I tailed Raul to his job. Man, you gotta see this.

 

DISSOLVE TO:

[INEZ Trucking Company. Day. A truck with the logo of INEZ Shipping passes by. The place is abuzz with activity. From a distance, behind the cover of some cargo containers, Michael and Sam watch Raul at his job.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: More guns. Great.

[They see Raul flag a forklift, carrying some product, and start to check it out. There are other guys around there, Mac-10s holstered to their bodies.]

SAM AXE: Yeah.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Looks like Raul's in charge of this operation.

[Sam's cell phone rings. He answers it and walks a short distance away.]

SAM AXE: [into phone] Yeah? Hey, dumpling. [chuckles] Oh, just taking care of that thing for Sophia. [beat, laughs loudly] Well, Sammy will take whatever reward you wanna give him, baby.

[Sam notices Michael's narrow look.]

SAM AXE: [into phone] Uh, pumpkin, lemme call you back.

[He hangs up and walks close to Michael.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: We need a better look, see who we're dealing with. You think you can handle that, pumpkin?

SAM AXE: Tch. Yeah. I got it, Mike.

[Sam goes to the Caddie.]

 

FLASH-CUT TO:

[INEZ Trucking Company. Day .Sam drives the Caddie towards Raul and his men. He parks the car and gets out, speaking on his cell phone. Raul and the other look at him.]

SAM AXE: [into phone, sounding pissed] Wait, wait, wait a second. Let me see if I hear that right. He says I'm uninsurable? Well, that's a pretty big word for a guy who can't read without moving his lips.

[One of Raul's men starts to move towards Sam, but Raul stops him.]

RAUL: [in Spanish, subtitled] Relax, I'll handle this.

[Raul walks towards Sam.]

RAUL: Hey!

[Sam brushes past Raul, still "talking" on his cell phone, raising his voice. Raul follows Sam as he paces around.]

SAM AXE: [into phone] Here's what we do, then. You tell Jerry Jerry's not moving my cargo anymore, okay? Yeah, you tell him that.

[Michael watches the proceedings. Raul and his men accost Sam.]

SAM AXE: [hangs up, peeved] My God.

[He addresses Raul.]

SAM AXE: Hey, uh, you El Jefe? You ship stuff? 'Cause I got stuff to ship. I'm talking pilates equipment - a lot of it. Y'know, it's those things that are in gyms. They're like big beach balls.

[Raul couldn't care less about pilates equipment or Sam.]

SAM AXE: All of a sudden, every joker in Tampa's gotta have them. So I need to make this happen like, you know, yesterday?

RAUL: You have the wrong place.

SAM AXE: Well, hear me out.

[Sam points to one of the warehouses, where people are unloading crates of Keratsis 100% Venezuelan Coffee Beans. He also notices big crates of Lidocaine nearby.]

SAM AXE: I mean, these are your trucks, right? I just... I'm just lookin' to rent a little extra space. Y'know, uh, off the books, frankly.

[Raul walks in front of Sam, preventing him from getting too close to the warehouse.]

RAUL: Sorry. All of our spaces are taken.

SAM AXE: Oh, I get it. Okay, I'll play your game.

[He reaches into his pocket and pulls out some money.]

SAM AXE: How much you want? Like, 5 bucks a cube...

[Raul snatches the money away from Sam's hand and tosses it away, close to the Caddie.]

RAUL: Leave! Now.

[Sam looks at the money on the ground and then back at Raul.]

SAM AXE: [smiling] We'll just consider that a down payment for the future.

[He starts to walk towards the cash and the car.]

SAM AXE: Okay, thanks a lot. You have a good one, now. Take care.

[He collects the cash off the ground and goes towards his car.]

SAM AXE: Okay, big opportunity right out the window there.

[Michael watches Sam get into the car.]

SAM AXE: See you, guys. Have a good one.

 

FLASH-CUT TO:

[Near Ernesto's. Day. Sophia walks along the pavement, fixing her watchstrap. As she walks past an alleyway, a pair of hands grab her and yank her inside. Michael pushes her up against a wall, roughly.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Who are you?

SOPHIA: [sounding scared] Who am I? What do you mean?

MICHAEL WESTEN: We stopped by Raul's work. He's loading trucks full of lidocaine and coffee cans.

SOPHIA: I don't know. I don't underst--

[Michael shakes her, interrupting her.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Lidocaine is used to cut cocaine, and coffee masks the smell from the dogs.

SOPHIA: Dios mio. Drugs?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Drugs. Shocking. You never saw anything, huh? No, it never occurred to you that most trucking executives don't drive in Porsches and carry Mac-10s?

SOPHIA: [sounding fearful] Please don't hurt me.

MICHAEL WESTEN: You approached Sam at a cooking class which costs more than you earn all week. And then you happen to mention a sad story about Raul? What a coincidence Sam can help.

SOPHIA: [breaking down] I'm telling you the truth.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [forcefully, shakes her] Who _are_ you?

[She grits her teeth. Then, she lashes out with her right hand at Michael, which he easily parries. But it was a decoy, as her left hand connects with Michael's midsection. He doubles over. She pulls out a gun on him, but he deftly sidesteps and grabs her arm and twists it, pinning the gun under her chin.]

SOPHIA: I'm DEA. I'm a cop.

[Camera holds on Michael's bemused face, as we...]

 

CUT TO:

[Miami waterfront. Day. Michael, Sam and Sophia (who's dropped her "innocent church-going victim" act) walk along a path, near the water. She fills them in.]

SOPHIA: I've been undercover for two years, making a case against Raul's boss, Campos. He runs a billion dollars in cocaine through Miami for the Valdez cartel. And Raul is his number-two guy in charge of security.

SAM AXE: Okay, look. Is Raul really stalking you, or was that a lie, too?

SOPHIA: No, it's the truth. The hostess job at Ernesto's is my cover. That's where Campos likes to eat and talk business. I tried not to draw attention to myself, but Raul noticed me.

MICHAEL WESTEN: And if you went to the DEA with your problem, they'd pull you off the job.

SOPHIA: Yeah, my investigation would be over. I've worked too hard to let that happen, and that's why I came to you.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Nice touch, approaching me through Sam.

SOPHIA: Well, I'm sorry I lied. But I needed to be sure you'd help me. You'd do the same thing. I've heard the stories.

MICHAEL WESTEN: What stories?

SOPHIA: There are rumors about a guy who took on the cartel a while back.

[Michael and Sam exchange a glance.]

SOPHIA: I found the people you helped, and they told me what you did.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Don't believe everything you hear.

[She stops walking, prompting them to stop as well.]

SOPHIA: Listen, I don't care who you were. I just need help. They have a big shipment coming in a few days. I'm really close to finding out where.

MICHAEL WESTEN: But not if Raul kills you first.

SOPHIA: I could go to jail for involving you. I'm out here alone. Do you understand?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Yeah, actually. I have a pretty good idea what that's like.

 

FLASH-CUT TO:

[Stock footage of Miami. Day.]

 

CUT TO:

[Ernesto's. Day. Michael and Sophia sit in the Charger, parked at a distance away from the restaurant's outdoor seating.]

SOPHIA: Ernesto's. That's where I work. There's Campos. He and Raul meet every day for lunch.

[Michael's looks at the older guy, sitting opposite Raul, at an outdoor table. The older guy is...]

                                                           CAMPOS
                                                      THE BOSS

Through his binoculars, Michael sees a bodyguard, with a Mac-10 hardly hidden in his jacket.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Is that kind of firepower normal, or is this a special occasion?

SOPHIA: Campos is in a turf war with the Mexicans. They put a hit out on him last week. It's pretty ugly.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Ugly's good. We can work with ugly.

SOPHIA: [intrigued] How?

MICHAEL WESTEN: I need to get in with Raul quietly, make myself useful, get some information. Then I let Campos know that Raul is spilling information to a new friend behind his back. Campos deals with Raul for us, and it looks like you had nothing to do with it.

SOPHIA: You make it sound so easy.

MICHAEL WESTEN: That sounded easy?

[They see Campos leaving. He gets into his car with his bodyguards. The car drives off. Raul remains behind at the table. He dials a number on his cell phone. Sophia's cell phone rings. She looks at Michael, worried, and answers it.]

SOPHIA: [into phone] Raul?

[Michael watches Raul speak to Sophia, through the binoculars.]

RAUL: [into phone, in Spanish, subtitled] Where the hell are you?

SOPHIA: [into phone, in Spanish, subtitled] On the bus, coming to work.

RAUL: [into phone, in Spanish, subtitled] I called you. Left you messages. You didn't answer or call back. [angrily] Who are you with?

SOPHIA: [into phone, in Spanish, subtitled] I'm not with anyone, Raul.

RAUL: [into phone, in Spanish, subtitled] If you are lying...

SOPHIA: [into phone, in Spanish, subtitled] I swear.There's no one here.

RAUL: [into phone, in Spanish, subtitled] We'll talk about it when I see you.

[He hangs up. Sophia lowers her phone and closes it, looking distressed. She looks at Michael.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: You don't have to do this.

[She puts on her sunglasses.]

SOPHIA: I know.

[She gets out of the car and makes her way towards the restaurant.]

 

CUT TO:

[Michael's Loft. Night. Fiona enters the loft. Michael, working at the kitchen bench, looks up.]

FIONA GLENANNE: Sam told me about your latest client. She sounds like a handful.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Just helping her with the job.

[She walks over to the bench and sees many stacks of checks.]

FIONA GLENANNE: Where did all these checks come from?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Barry. Whatever you said to him must have been convincing. These are leftovers from a defunct shell company.

FIONA GLENANNE: What are _you_ doing with them?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Becoming a forger. Approach the Tunisian with a few phony checks...

FIONA GLENANNE: And you're not just a client, you're a colleague.

[He holds out a scalpel for her to help out with. She yanks the scalpel away. He lets go just in time to prevent himself from being nicked. They get down to work. She opens a bottle of nail-polish remover and pours the liquid into a basin.]

            {Check fraud is more about technique than high-tech equipment. Some old checks, a roll of scotch tape, some nail-polish remover, and you're in business.}

[He removes a piece of scotch-tape and sticks it over the parts of the check he needs to remain (serial number, signature, bank name, account holder...). After a bit of slicing with the scalpel, he immerses the check into the nail-polish remover.]

            {Nail-polish remover is mostly acetone, which dissolves ink.}

[Using a small paintbrush, he carefully wipes away the amount and the payee's name off the check.}

            {Get your hands on a check that's been filled out by the account holder, dissolve everything but the signature, and you've got yourself a blank check.}

[Fiona clips the wet check to a clothes line. Michael blow-dries the check. They do the same with the other checks. Fiona makes stacks of dry checks and ties them together.]

            {Counterfeiters call it "check washing".}

FLASH-CUT TO:

[Nefzi's Store. Day. Michael enters the store, carrying a briefcase. The store has racks of equipment lined up against the wall. Michael walks up to the sales counter, where a middle-aged bald, white-bearded man joins him from inside.]

            {There may be no honor among thieves, but there's a certain amount of respect.}

[Michael holds up the security badge, given to him by Carla.]

            {Establishing you're in the same racket is a great way to make an introduction.}

[The older man looks at it, sizes Michael up and walks to the store door. Michael talks fast.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Nefzi, right?

OLDER MAN: How did you find me?

[The man turns the "Come in, we're open" sign around to "Sorry, we're closed".]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Barry.

[The old man is...]

                                                           NEFZI
                                            THE COUNTERFEITER

[Nefzi walks back to the sales counter.]

NEFZI: Barry referred you?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Ah, manner of speakin'. He called you a son of a bitch, which, I figured, anybody Barry doesn't like, cool by me. Anyway, I took this job. I gotta dupe this.

[He holds up the badge and slaps it down on the sales counter. Nefzi puts on his glasses.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Little outta my league. I'm good with papers, not with computers. I think this is a computer thing, right?

[Nefzi inspects the badge.]

NEFZI: Yeah, it's a computer thing. [removing his glasses, looking at Michael] Why would anyone believe you could do this?

MICHAEL WESTEN: [shrugs] Did I mention I'm good with papers?

[He opens his briefcase and displays the stacks of washed checks.]

NEFZI: [unimpressed smirk] Check fraud is for children. Counterfeiting electronics takes real skill.

MICHAEL WESTEN: No argument from me. That's why I'm comin' to you.

[Nefzi picks up the badge.]

NEFZI: I can do this job, but, uh, it'll cost you.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Yeah, I figured.

[HE picks out a few stacks of checks and starts slapping them one-by-one on the counter.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Maybe we could do whatchamacallit, like the barter? Y'know? I give you some of my work, and you do the badge for me.

[Nefzi couldn't be less interested in the checks. He picks them up off the counter and dumps them back in the open briefcase.]

NEFZI: This is hackwork I can do in my sleep. Cash only. Ten thousand. Five now, five on delivery.

[Michael sucks in air and puts his hands behind his head, as if stunned by the price. Then...]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Okay.

[As Nefzi looks at him suspiciously, he removes three stacks of cash and puts them on the counter. He smiles at Nefzi. Nefzi picks up one of the stacks and inspects it closely.]

NEFZI: People who try to cheat me... they regret it. You understand me?

MICHAEL WESTEN: I wouldn't dream of it.

[Nefzi picks up the money. Michael closes the briefcase.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: When can I get the badge back?

NEFZI: I can have a basic knockoff by tomorrow, but if you want a better quality, it'll take a few days.

[Michael thinks for a second.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Take your time.

[Collecting his briefcase, he walks out.]

[Outside the store, his cell phone rings. He answers it.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Yeah, mom?

INTERCUT WITH: [Counselor's Office. Day. Madeline speaks to Michael on the phone.]

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

MADELINE WESTEN: [into phone, upset] Michael, I'm at the counselor's office. You missed our appointment.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone, grunts sheepishly] Oh, um, some-something came up. I should have called.

MADELINE WESTEN: [into phone] Yeah, well, they have a very strict cancellation policy here, Michael. It's worse than the airlines.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] I'll pay for the session.

MADELINE WESTEN: [into phone, sadly] That's not the point.

[She hangs up.]

[Michael hangs up as well, rolling his head upwards, feeling bad. His phone rings. He answers it.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Hello?

CARLA: [from phone] You look upset. Is everything okay?

[Michael stops dead in his tracks. He looks around.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Yeah, everything's fine. Just some... personal issues. Thanks for asking.

CARLA: [from phone] If you need to talk, Michael, I'm here for you.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] I appreciate that. Why don't you give me your home number, and I'll take you up on that?

CARLA: [from phone, amused] I assume we'll be getting our badges soon.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Few days.

CARLA: [from phone] That wasn't what was agreed to. We were expecting them sooner.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Yeah, well, that's the best I can do.

CARLA: [from phone] I doubt that, Michael.

[She hangs up. Clenching his teeth, Michael hangs up as well.]

 

DISSOLVE TO:

[Stock footage of Miami. Night.]

 

DISSOLVE TO:

[Ernesto's. Night. Michael enters the restaurant and looks towards the bar. He sees Raul and Sophia at the counter. While Sophia does her best to disguise her disgust and keep smiling, Raul caresses her cheek. Michael, a big grin on his face, walks over to them and sits next to Raul.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Yeah, the man I'm lookin' for.

[Raul turns his head.]

RAUL: And why is that?

MICHAEL WESTEN: You're in... let's call it the shipping business, and me, let's call me a consultant. Now, a guy moving your kind of cargo is always looking to make it go from point A to point B. I can help with this job. I can make your life easier. A lot easier for the right price.

RAUL: I don't know what you're talking about. I import coffee.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Right, and I used to work for the Mexicans. [smiling tightly] Let's cut the crap.

Raul stays silent a beat.]

RAUL: Sophia.

[He motions for her to leave. She does so gladly. He turns to Michael.]

RAUL: You know, where I come from, talk like that... can get you killed.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Well, I'm sure you wouldn't want blood all over that nice suit, so why don't you just hear me out?

RAUL: Talk.

MICHAEL WESTEN: I busted my ass for the Mexicans. They didn't truly appreciate what I do.

RAUL: And what is it exactly that you do?

MICHAEL WESTEN: I expedite things. I got a lot of friends.

RAUL: Who are these friends?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Police, customs, on the docks. Anything beyond that, I'd be giving away my trade secrets. But I can assure you that your deliveries would come on time, hassle-free. How does that sound?

RAUL: [immediately] Too good to be true. Strange that you come to me, not to my boss.

MICHAEL WESTEN: What do I want with your boss? You'll be my boss. I don't even wanna meet Campos. I mean, the way I see it, I'm just here to make you look good, me to make money. As long as I'm paid, you can be the hero. Y'know, if you're interested, gimme a call.

[He drops a visiting card on the bar counter. He starts to walk away, but Raul grabs his hand.]

RAUL: Sit. Allow me to buy you a drink, no?

[Michael sits down.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Si.

[Raul turns to where Sophia is.]

RAUL: [calls] Sophia.

[Sophia walks over to them. Raul puts his arm around her.]

RAUL: [to Michael] My girlfriend.

[Michael nods. Sophia smiles coyly.]

SOPHIA: Raul, I have to work.

RAUL: [in Spanish, subtitled] Yes, yes, my love. We need a table for two and a bottle of Dom.

[She smiles and leaves. Raul turns to Michael, who sniggers his approval.]

RAUL: Very nice girl, huh?

[Michael raises his eyebrows and "hmmm"s in agreement.]

RAUL: [laughs] Catholic. A volcano waiting to erupt.

[He and Michael share a laugh. Michael mimics an erupting sound.]

RAUL: She loves me more than her own life.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [deadpan] That's a lot.

 

FLASH-CUT TO:

[Stock footage of Miami. Day.]

 

CUT TO:

[Madeline's House. Day. Michael enters the house. Madeline, in the kitchen, turns around.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Mom? I wanted to apologize for, y'know, missing our appointment.

[She walks towards him, a big smile on her face.]

MADELINE WESTEN: Michael, the new coffee-maker.

[She hugs him, while he looks bemused.]

MADELINE WESTEN: Thank you. That's more than enough apology.

[Michael looks at the shiny new chrome-plated coffee-maker on the kitchen counter.]

MADELINE WESTEN: Why didn't you wake me last night?

MICHAEL WESTEN: [absently] I was in a hurry.

[Michael heads into the kitchen to look at the coffee-maker.]

MADELINE WESTEN: Uh, 'scuse me. You were here long enough to read the paper.

[Frowning, Michael turns around and sees the newspaper on the kitchen island, open to the crossword puzzle. He goes to it, uneasily, and picks it up. The crossword is blank - same time, same place as before.]

 

CUT TO:

[Marina Mall. Day. Carla tries out sunglasses at a sunglass stand, while Michael stands nearby, trying some out himself.]

CARLA: Did your mom like the coffee-maker? I picked it out myself. Built-in grinder, integrated water filter. Makes up to ten cups. Perfect for her weekly poker game.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Yeah, I'd stay away from her.

CARLA: [giggles] You were the one that told me I needed to buy her a coffee maker.

[She tries on a pair of sunglasses.]

CARLA: What about these? Do you like these?

MICHAEL WESTEN: It depends on where you're staying. They're nice for South Beach, but if you're in Coral Gables, I'd go with something conservative.

[Carla can't help but be amused.]

CARLA: Always pushing. Always probing.

[She pays for the sunglasses.]

CARLA: It's cute. But you need to understand something.

[They start to walk, Carla's arm around Michael's.]

CARLA: Right now, you work for us.

MICHAEL WESTEN: And who would that be?

CARLA: There's an easy way to do this and a hard way.

MICHAEL WESTEN: I like my way.

CARLA: Is that why you decided to take your time delivering the badges? To see how I would respond?

[Michael flashes her a "busted!" smile.]

CARLA: Aha...

MICHAEL WESTEN: Quality work takes time.

CARLA: Right, right. Every puppy starts off chewing the furniture, Michael. [stops walking] Eventually they learn. Next time I give you a deadline, I expect you to meet it. Don't test me again, or the next time I leave a gift at your mom's house, [smiles widely] it's not gonna be a coffee maker.

[She walks off.]

 

CUT TO:

[Stock footage of Miami. Night.]

 

CUT TO:

[INEZ Trucking Company. Night. A couple of Raul's goons walk past a truck.]

            {If you want to make a friend, solve a problem for them. No problem to solve? Create one.}

[As they pass by, Fiona sticks her head out from behind the truck. Ensuring she's alone, she goes to the truck door and pulls off the rubber tube on the handle. She puts her hand to the bluetooth receiver in her ear, as she pulls out a cylindrical instrument from her pocket.]

FIONA GLENANNE: [into receiver] Almost done, Michael.

INTERCUT WITH: [Ernesto's. Night. Michael sits alone at a table, speaking to Fiona.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Make it look professional.

FIONA GLENANNE: [into phone] Yeah, I'm gonna pretend you didn't say that. You getting friendly with Raul?

MICHAEL WESTEN: [from phone] Yeah, friendly enough. If I know my drug cartels, it won't take much longer to make it look like he's going behind the boss' back.

[Sophia walks up to him, carrying a menu.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Gotta go.

[He hangs up. Smiling at Sophia, he takes the menu from her. She smiles at him, but her eyes say something else. He opens the menu and sees a paper napkin, on which is written, "He's searching your car". Michael smiles, hardly fazed.]

 

CUT TO:

[Ernesto's, Parking Lot. Night. Raul and his boys search Michael's car.]

            {Relationships are about trust.}

[Opening the glove compartment, he finds a PDA.]

            {People trust you when they have something on you, like, say, the name and address of a mistress in Orlando or information about a secret gambling habit.}

[He finds a lot of race track stubs on the passenger seat. Coming out of the car, he looks at his find with a smile.]

CUT TO:

[Ernesto's. Night. As Michael sips his iced water, Raul slaps down the gambling paraphernalia on the table.]

            {It's all about making them feel secure.}

RAUL: Money problems?

MICHAEL WESTEN: [sounding offended] That's my business.

[At the bar, Sophia watches.]

RAUL: Relax. If things go well, everything's okay. If it doesn't...

[He drops the PDA on the table.]

RAUL: We know where your friends and your family are. A little insurance in case you get scared and run to the police.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Fine. Maybe now you'll give me a route and shipping information so I can do my job.

RAUL: Mmm, that is not how it works.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Then how the hell am I supposed to help you with the Mexicans and the police if you keep me in the dark?

RAUL: You tell me what you know first.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Man, this is a waste of my time.

[Michael starts to get up, miffed. Raul pulls his gun out and jabs it in Michael's ribs. Michael stops.]

RAUL: No. You sit.

            {People don't trust information they get for free.}

[Michael looks over to the bar, where Sophia picks up a lemon knife. She looks at him, but he shakes his head minutely at her. He places the knife back.]

            {If you want to sell someone on a lie, you have to make them drag it out of you.}

[Michael sits.]

            {It's effective, but often painful.}

[Raul jabs the gun harder in Michael's side. Michael flinches.]

RAUL: You said you can be useful, no? Fine. You tell me something. It checks out, we talk. If not...

[He jabs Michael with the gun again.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: All right. The DEA. They got a GPS tracking device on one of your trucks.

[Raul withdraws his gun, in disbelief.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: I got a source in the DA's office.

[Raul looks at Michael, skeptically.]

 

CUT TO:

[INEZ Trucking Company. Night. As Fiona watches through binoculars, Raul, flanked by his goons, removes the rubber tube off the truck door handle. He sees the cylindrical bug inside the handle. Pissed, he pulls it out and holds it up to the others.]

RAUL: [in Spanish, subtitled] How could you be so stupid?

[He throws it hard to the ground, smashing it to pieces. Shoving one of the goons, he throws the rubber tube at another and walks off, mad. Fiona watches in satisfaction. She goes to her new car - the Saab 9-3 Convertible (with the top up). Turning on the headlights, she drives off.]

 

FLASH-CUT TO:

[Stock footage of Miami. Day.]

 

FLASH-CUT TO:

[Counselor's Office. Day. As the counselor talks (off-screen), Michael and Madeline sit on the opposite side of her desk. Madeline listens in rapt attention, while Michael turns to look back-and-forth at his mother and the counselor, frowning.

COUNSELOR: I've always liked to think that the C in counseling stands for "communication".

[We finally see the counselor - who could almost be Madeline's long lost twin sister, with the wavy, white hair and bright top.]

COUNSELOR: It sounds like what Madeline needs is for you...

[Michael looks at her and then again at his mother.]

COUNSELOR: ... to share something from that part of your life that's been closed off.

[Michael shudders heavily. Madeline looks at Michael, expectantly.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Nothing's coming to mind.

MADELINE WESTEN: You're missing the point.

MICHAEL WESTEN: You're right, Ma. I am.

[They smile at each other.]

COUNSELOR: Let's try it this way. Madeline, um, you mentioned there were times when you wanted more communication but didn't get it.

[Madeline nods.]

COUNSELOR: Can you share an example with Michael?

[Madeline nods and speaks, looking at Michael.]

MADELINE WESTEN: Every year, Michael called me on my birthday. About eight years ago, he forgot. I was very upset, and I never

understood why he didn't communicate.

[The counselor looks at Michael, smiling.]

COUNSELOR: Michael, would you like to respond?

[Michael, smile plastered to his face, looks at Madeline.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: At the time, I was stationed overseas, transporting a colleague to a locked facility. There were some individuals who were trying very hard to prevent me from doing my job. I was injured and in a field hospital for six weeks.

[Madeline squirms as she listens.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: They didn't have a phone, so I could not... communicate.

COUNSELOR: Excellent.

[Michael gives his mother a "happy now?" smile. She doesn't look all that happy with herself.]

COUNSELOR: Now it's your turn, Michael.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [thrown] My turn?

[The counselor nods. Madeline looks expectantly at Michael.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: When I was nine, I stole groceries because dad blew his paycheck.

[He says the last few words looking at Madeline. Madeline looks unsurely at the counselor.]

COUNSELOR: Go on.

MICHAEL WESTEN: The owner's son, Tommy Knox, the bag boy, caught me while I was running out, pounded me pretty good, gave me a black eye. But I got away with the groceries. When I got home, you took the groceries, Mom, but you never asked me about the black eye. Any communication about that?

[Madeline shrugs, feigning ignorance.]

MADELINE WESTEN: Boys fight, Michael. I thought you'd bought the groceries.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Then why did we never go back to that store?

[No answer from Madeline.]

COUNSELOR: Madeline?

[Madeline plasters a smile to her face.]

MADELINE WESTEN: Let's talk about the time that we went to Disney World.

 

CUT TO:

[Outside Counselor's Office. Day. Michael and Madeline walk outside towards the car. Madeline doesn't seem too happy right now.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: So, what made you pick her?

MADELINE WESTEN: There was something about her I liked. I don't know what I was thinking.

[Michael's cell phone rings.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [smiling] Really? I didn't think it was so bad.

[He answers the phone.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Yeah?

RAUL: [from phone] It's Raul. I've been thinking about your proposal. Meet me at the restaurant.

[Michael hangs up.]

 

CUT TO:

[Ernesto's. Day. Michael enters the deserted restaurant. He walks past the bar and sees Raul standing, looking pissed as hell. Sophia sits on a chair in front of him, looking frightened, her face bruised.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [politely, through clenched teeth] Raul, what's going on?

RAUL: What's going on? Well, that is what I would like to know.

[Michael looks at Sophia.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: What are you talking about? What is this?

RAUL: A friend of mine used to be in the secret service in Venezuela. He knows how to find things, [holding up Sophia's phone] like phone records. I had him look in Sophia's cell phone.

[He tosses the phone to Sophia, who catches it jumpily.]

RAUL: You two were talking, no? Hmm?

[Pulling out his gun, he aims it at Sophia's head. Sophia flinches.]

RAUL: Did you think that I would not find out?

MICHAEL WESTEN: [smiling] I don't know what she's told you.

RAUL: She did not tell me nothing. I had to figure it out for myself.

[Yanking Sophia up from her seat, he holds her close, keeping the gun trained at her face.]

RAUL: Now I will ask you the same thing I asked her. [screaming] How long have you and this puta been sleeping together?!

[The tension grows for a while. Then, Michael smiles wide.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: You are out of your mind, Raul.

RAUL: Do you think that I am stupid?

MICHAEL WESTEN: [chuckle] No. I don't think you're stupid, Raul. I know you are.

[That's not something Raul wants to hear now. Irate, he aims the gun at Michael.]

            {Inexperienced operatives abandon a cover ID under pressure. Experienced ones just play their roles harder.}

MICHAEL WESTEN: [loudly, clenched teeth] Stop wasting my time! [paces about] Of course I talked to Sophia! I was checking up on you! You don't think I do my homework on the people I'm doing business with?! I'm a professional!

SOPHIA: [pleading] Please, Raul.

[Still unconvinced, Raul pushes her back in the chair, his gun on her.]

RAUL: I wish that I could trust you.

SOPHIA: [shakes her head, tearfully] Nothing happened.

MICHAEL WESTEN: You know, she's right! Nothing! She wouldn't give you up. I tried to give her money. She wouldn't take it. But if you want to shoot her, go ahead. In fact, I'll do it myself.

[Cocking his gun, he aims it at Sophia. Raul, now fully buying the story, turns his gun quickly on Michael.]

RAUL: No!

[He looks at Sophia.]

RAUL: [in Spanish, subtitled] You did that for me?

[She nods.]

RAUL: [in Spanish, subtitled] Why didn't you tell me?

SOPHIA: [in Spanish, subtitled] I was scared.

[Michael withdraws his gun, prompting Raul to do the same. Raul moves close to Sophia.]

RAUL: [in Spanish, subtitled] You have nothing to be afraid of.

[Michael turns around and lets out a sigh of relief.]

RAUL: [in Spanish, subtitled] We're going somewhere nice tonight. [In English] Bueno?

[Sophia nods. She gets up and starts to walk outside. As she passes by Michael, she looks at him gratefully. Michael smiles at her. She leaves. Raul looks at Michael.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Can we talk now? We done playing games.

RAUL: No. It is time for you to meet the boss.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Yeah. Remember we said "no bosses"? That's not how I operate.

RAUL: I don't care. That is how I operate.

[He walks away. Michael looks troubled.]

 

CUT TO:

[Michael's Loft. Day. Sam opens the fridge to get a beer, while talking to Michael.]

SAM AXE: Mike, that's gonna screw up the whole plan. I thought the idea here was to make Raul seem like a traitor. Well, how you gonna catch him selling secrets behind his boss's back when he's standing right in front of the guy, introducing you?

[Michael walks downstairs, holding some papers.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: If we can't make Raul a traitor one way, we're gonna have to do it another way. Fi, get me a sniper rifle and some C-4.

FIONA GLENANNE: Ooh, I like where this is going.

[As Michael walks past Sam, he snatches the beer bottle (inches away from Sam's inviting mouth) and walks towards the trashcan near the oven.]

SAM AXE: I just opened that.

MICHAEL WESTEN: We have work to do.

[He dumps the bottle into the trash, much to Sam's displeasure.]

 

CUT TO:

[INEZ Trucking Company. Day. Sam drives his Caddie through the gate, past four guards.]

SAM AXE: Morning, fellas! How you doing? I'm back. Good to see ya.

[The confused guards follow Sam's Caddie. He stops it near the warehouse.]

            {Most people think distracting a group of guys is best done by a beautiful woman. The problem with beautiful women is people want them to stick around, which can cause a lot of problems.}

[Sam gets out of the car and pulls out a large purple pilates ball and holds it out in front of the uninterested guards.]

SAM AXE: Ever seen one of these? I got plenty more ready to go. Look. I gotta talk to your supervisor again.

[As he talks, he diverts all their attention on him and away from Fiona, who runs up to Campos' car and sticks a C-4 charge to the car's chassis.]

SAM AXE: Tell him I'm offering some real money, okay? Mucho...

[The guards have enough of Sam. One guard grabs Sam's pilates ball.]

            {Obnoxious guys they just want to get rid of.}

[The guard throws the ball away and grabs Sam, while the others come over to help.]

SAM AXE: ... dinero. Oh, come on...

[As Sam protests, the guards shove him unceremoniously into the car and slam the door.]

 

CUT TO:

[INEZ Office. Day. Raul walks inside the nicely-decorated office, past the large window frame, and takes his place behind Campos, who sits stoically at his desk. A bodyguard searches Michael and nods "he's-clean" to Campos. Michael walks up to Campos desk.]

CAMPOS: Raul says you may be able to help us. He told me about the GPS device. What else do you know?

MICHAEL WESTEN: I know your operation has problems. Vulnerabilities.

CAMPOS: Vulnerabilities?

[Michael points outside.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: You have problems with your perimeter out there. I know how the Feds are getting to your trucks.

[Campos stands up.]

CAMPOS: Show me.

[Campos walks in front of the window, Michael next to him.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: You see those boats? They're an easy access point.

[Opposite the office, on a raised platform, lies Fiona aiming her large-caliber sniper machine rifle towards the window.]

FIONA GLENANNE: [into phone] You ready, Sam? Go.

[Outside the warehouse, Sam and Sophia sit in the Caddie. Sam nods at Sophia, who inserts a CD into the CD player. As Team Orbit's "Aliemento" plays loudly, she calls Raul on his cell phone.]

[In the office, as Michael explains security measures to Campos, standing in front of the window, Raul's cell phone rings. Campos looks behind in minor disapproval at the ringing cell phone.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: I'm not talking about fencing. I'm talking about a wall. Y' know, blocking the view from the street.

[Raul answers his cell phone, talking in a low voice.]

RAUL: [into phone, in Spanish, subtitled] I'm in a meeting, Sophia.

[In Sam's Caddie, Sophia speaks to Raul, while Sam waits for his cue.]

SOPHIA: [into phone, in Spanish, subtitled] I'm sorry.I don't want to bother you...but I need your help.

RAUL: [into phone, in Spanish, subtitled] What's wrong?

SOPHIA: [into phone, in Spanish, subtitled] There's a man here...  He's drunk and keeps putting his hands all over me.

[Sam starts shouting out in an intoxicated voice.]

SAM AXE: Hey! There she is! Hey, come on over here, mamacita. Come over here and meet Chuck. Give it up. Give me some.

[Raul almost loses it, listening to some drunk try to come on to his girlfriend.]

RAUL: [into phone, in Spanish, subtitled] Stay right there.

[As Sam laughs and rubs the cell phone mouthpiece, Sophia hangs up with a smile.]

[In the office, Raul walks up to Campos.]

RAUL: I have to go. I need to handle something with Sophia at the restaurant. I'm sorry.

[Clapping a confused Campos on the arm, he walks off. Campos smirks wryly, shaking his head.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: You don't think Raul would ev... nah.

CAMPOS: What?

MICHAEL WESTEN: [low voice] I dunno. [audibly] Raul would never go to the cops.

CAMPOS: 'Course not.

MICHAEL WESTEN: No. I know. It's just that Sophia's not at work today. So why is he going to the restaurant to meet her?

[As Matter's "Rain on Me" plays in the background signaling the start of something dynamic, Campos looks at Michael. Michael shakes his head. Campos turns to his bodyguard. Michael, facing the window, brushes his jacket - that's the signal.]

            {Most assassinations involve the firing of a single well-placed bullet.}

MICHAEL WESTEN: Get down!

[Michael grabs Campos and yanks him to the floor, just as Fiona opens up with her sniper machine rifle into the office. The window shatters, curios get destroyed, walls get riddled.]

            {The trick to selling an assassination attempt is to use a lot more firepower.}

[Fiona, enjoying every moment of this, finally stops.]

[Michael and Campos lie on the ground.]

[Fiona pulls out her cell phone and starts to dial.]

            {And an explosion or two doesn't hurt.}

[Michael and Campos get up and look outside.]

[Fiona calls the cell phone wired to the C-4 charge.]

[The car explodes. Michael and Campos drop to the floor again. Guards in the yard jump for their lives, away from the exploding car.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Raul set you up!

[Enraged, Campos hisses orders to his bodyguards.]

CAMPOS: [in Spanish, subtitled] Find Raul! Bring him to me !

 

DISSOLVE TO:

[Outside Ernesto's. Day. A cartel SUV drives up to the front door of the restaurant. Sam and Sophia watch from inside the Caddie. The cartel-members get out and run inside, their hands on their barely-hidden guns.]

            {Drug cartels have their own internal justice system. It doesn't involve courts or lawyers or proving guilt beyond a reasonable doubt. If they think you might be a traitor, they'll kill you just to be on the safe side.}

[Sam and Sophia watch as Raul bursts out from a side door and runs for his life.]

SAM AXE: Run, Raul! Run, baby!

 

DISSOLVE TO:

[DEA Building, Interrogation Room. Day. Now marked for death and requiring witness protection, Raul sits dolefully at a table, recording a statement, as a DEA agent stands nearby.]

RAUL: And we fit a half a kilo of cocaine in every can. [to the DEA agent] Look, I'm not talking anymore, okay? Not until I'm-I'm sure that you can protect me from Campos.

DEA AGENT: Don't worry. You cooperate, we'll take care of you. Just got to make sure you're telling us everything. So we're gonna have you talk to one of our agents. Someone who knows your operation pretty well.

[He opens the door to the room. To Raul's absolute shock and disbelief, in walks a formally-dressed Sophia, with a DEA badge fixed to her waist. No longer the shrinking violet, she leans cockily over the table in Raul's face.]

SOPHIA: Hello, Raul.

[Raul looks down. Looks like the volcano erupted... in his face.]

 

CUT TO:

[Outside DEA Building. Day. Sophia walks outside and comes over to Michael's car. Leaning over the passenger side window, she grins at Michael.]

SOPHIA: Hey.

MICHAEL WESTEN: How'd it go?

SOPHIA: [upbeat sigh] Raul took a plea. He's headed to a maximum-security facility... for his own protection. With what he gave us, Campos will be going away for a long time, too. I can't thank you enough. If there's anything...

MICHAEL WESTEN: There is. The rumor you heard about me, keep it a rumor.

SOPHIA: Don't worry.

[He puts on his sunglasses and smiles at her. She winks at him. He drives away.]

 

FLASH-CUT TO:

[Nefzi's Store. Day. Michael looks at the counterfeit security badge up against the light. It looks almost the same as the original.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Wow. Can't even tell the difference.

NEFZI: Of course you can't. It took three prototypes, but [points at the counterfeit] that one's my masterpiece.

[Michael, acting like an average counterfeiter, holds the fake one behind the original and moves them around.]

NEFZI: Now... the rest of the money.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Yeah.

[Michael hands him the paper bag.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Hey, any way of tellin' what these things are for?

NEFZI: [sighs] Of course there are ways.

MICHAEL WESTEN: There's an extra five grand in the bag if you could tell me. Y'know, I got a guy who wants to know what buildings these get you into.

[He holds each badge to each eye, almost comically. Nefzi considers it.]

NEFZI: I can find out.

[He punches a few keys on the keypad, near the back room. Michael smiles at him.]

NEFZI: Come back next week.

[He goes inside the back room.]

[As Black Light Burns' "4 Walls" plays in the background, Michael walks out the store. He puts on his sunglasses. He notices a white van right opposite him, with two occupants watching him.]

            {In intelligence, a good adversary lets you think you're winning. They know the best attack is the one you don't see coming.

[Staying nonchalant, he removes his sunglasses and turns to the mirrored windows of Nefzi's store and sees a guy, looking at him over the newspaper he's holding open.]

            {So you learn to be vigilant when you think you've got the upper hand... because that's when they'll strike.}

[He runs into the store and makes his way to the back room. He raps on the door.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Nefzi!

[No answer from inside. Removing his gun, he shoots the keypad. Sliding open the door, he sees Nefzi lying motionless on the ground, a phone lying disconnected next to him.]

            {If you walk in on a corpse and can't catch your breath, you might be suffering from a panic attack.}

[He goes over to Nefzi and checks his pulse. He gets none. He puts his fist to his mouth and looks around.]

            {Or someone might be pumping nitrogen gas into the room to displace all the oxygen.}

[He looks around the room, keeping his fist over his mouth,]

            {It's not a bad way to kill someone. They suffocate before they realize there's a problem.}

[He pulls a table away from the wall, near a frosted-glass window, and sees a plastic pipe, pushed inside through a hole in the wall.]

            {It won't show up on a tox screen, and there's no trail left behind...}

[Picking up a stool, he smashes the frosted-glass window.]

            {...unless you know where to look .}

[He goes near the smashed window and breathes heavily, replenishing the oxygen in his system. He picks up his gun off the table and looks down at Nefzi's body.]

            {There are a lot of disadvantages to being at the scene of a crime.}

[He starts to look around for anything useful.]

            {You can get arrested. You can get yourself killed. And no matter how many times you've done it, it's never fun hanging out with a dead body.}

[As he's about to leave, he notices another counterfeit badge on the table near the door. He picks it up.]

            {But the advantage is there's no one around to object to a little intelligence gathering.}

[Dropping the badge into the paper bag (that Nefzi won't be needing anymore), he walks out.]

 

DISSOLVE TO:

[Madeline's House. Day. Madeline sits at the table, having a cigarette with her breakfast (or is it the other way around?). Michael enters through the back door.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Mom.

MADELINE WESTEN: Hi, honey. Want some coffee? I made a pot.

MICHAEL WESTEN: No, uh, we gotta go. Don't we have a session?

[She walks into the kitchen, carrying her empty coffee cup and saucer.]

MADELINE WESTEN: I decided to find another counselor. Someone who asks better questions.

[She puts the cup and saucer into the kitchen sink. Michael leans over the counter.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Mom, what I did while I was away I don't like to talk about. But if you wanna spend time together, we can do that. We can... take a pottery class together.

MADELINE WESTEN: [snorts out a chuckle] No, thanks. 'S all I need is another ugly ceramic ashtray.

[She holds up her ashtray. They both lean against the kitchen counter in silence for a while.]

MADELINE WESTEN: [nostalgically] I remember when you came home with the groceries. You said you bought them. And you looked so proud... it broke my heart. I thought that you didn't want me to know, Michael.

[She takes a drag off her cigarette.]

MADELINE WESTEN: I always hated that bag boy. It's nice to know I was right about him.

[Michael smiles.]

 

DISSOLVE TO:

[Marina Mall. Day. Carla sits, watching the yachts parked in the marina. She turns and smiles at Michael, who arrives expressionlessly. Throwing the paper bag near her, he sits on the same bench as her.]

CARLA: He was awfully good, don't you think?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Are you gonna kill everyone I talk to?

CARLA: Better them than you, Michael.

MICHAEL WESTEN: No more nitrogen gas, no more high-powered rifles.

CARLA: [sighing] All right, fine.

[She looks inside the paper bag.]

CARLA: Oh, look. You forgot your money.

MICHAEL WESTEN: No, I'm never gonna work for you, Carla. Not that way.

CARLA: That's okay, Michael. I'll hold on to it for you.

[She gets up to leave.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [in Arabic, subtitled] No coffee today?

[Carla turns to him with a smile.]

CARLA: [in Arabic, subtitled] Sorry, I have another meeting... But we'll be in touch.

[Smiling, she walks away. Michael waits for her to leave, then pulls out his cell phone and calls Sam.]

SAM AXE: [from phone] Hey, Mike. What's up?

[Michael gets up off the bench and starts walking.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Yeah, Sam. I think I got something. Carla speaks Arabic with a Kurdish accent.

SAM AXE: [from phone] Huh. You think she was stationed there?

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] I was hoping you could ask around.

SAM AXE: [from phone] Will do, buddy. But I gotta tell you, it's not much to go on.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] I know, Sam. But it's more than we had.

[He hangs up and continues walking past the shoppers.]

 

CUT TO::

[Closing credits.]

 

FADE TO BLACK.

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