Frameshift: Gwen

Frameshift: "Gwen"



TEASER

EXT. AN ICEBERG-DAY

Nothing a moment. A ukelele plays. JOSH SHEPHERD's eyes open--

On a penguin. In a grass skirt. With a ukelele.

Josh blinks. Still there.

A capuchin in a coconut bra thrusts an umbrella drink at
Josh's face. Then tries to kiss him.

Josh rolls away, off an ice-carved version of a deckchair and
to his feet. He backs up, and up, and up--

And fall backwards into water littered with chunks of ice.

Underwater now. Sinking, gulping water. Black.

EXT. DESERT OASIS-NIGHT

Josh bursts to the surface of a cartoon desert oasis: nearly
perfect circle of water, one perfect palm tree curved for
optimum shade, and a cactus, so as to signify "desert".

Oh, right, beyond that nothing. Just blackness. Space.

Josh crawls out of the water and rolls to his back. Stares up
at, well, nothing (but through palm fronds-- that's
something).

Squeak, squeak. Tiny, not well oiled wheels. Josh lifts his
head, looks behind him.

Capuchin. Coconut bra. Oxygen tank. It hops onto Josh's chest
and presses a mask over his face. Josh tries to sit up, but
the scene opts to dissolve then to--

INT. JOSH'S ROOM-MORNING

Josh's eyes snap open. CLAIRE DAWSON's mouth is on his. But
she's trying to make him breath, so it's not weird. Right?

Claire's eyes meet Josh's, and they both freeze. She leans
back. Josh sits up, eyes unfocused.

JOSH:
You're a monkey.

Claire stares.

CLAIRE:
You stopped breathing.

Josh nods to himself.

JOSH:
That would explain the monkey part.
Penguin's still weird, though.

CLAIRE:
I thought you died.

JOSH:
Only for a few seconds.

CLAIRE:
That's normal?

JOSH:
Beginning to seem it.

...

CLAIRE:
Penguins?

Josh snaps back to it. His eyes focus and he turns to the
window. Hops to his feet and sprints for it.

JOSH:
Random neurons firing. Or birth of
a new religion. I'm liking the
former. No time to write a bible.

Josh leans out the window and looks down.

JOSH: (CONT'D)
Does this house have a back alley?

CLAIRE:
It's your house.

Josh sighs.

JOSH:
Amnesia blows.

Then, the sound of an engine roaring, and several trash cans
falling over. From behind the house. Josh looks back.

JOSH: (CONT'D)
Asked and answered. Too late,
though. I guess the penguins work
in mysterious ways.

Claire stares.

CLAIRE:
You're kind of freaking me out.

JOSH:
Completely understandable.

CLAIRE:
Anything you can do about it?

JOSH:
Probably not.

CLAIRE:
Want to explain what happened?

Josh nods and looks back out the window, toward the rear.

JOSH:
Absolutely. Just as soon as I know
what that is.



END OF TEASER
ACT ONE

INT. SARA'S ROOM-MORNING

Sara's alarm clock screeches. She rubs her eyes, blinks the
sleep out, and rolls over.

Josh sits on the floor, head right at bed-level. Sara starts.

SARA:
Didn't we have the boundaries talk
after I found out you could see
through my shirt?

JOSH:
And we agreed virtually seeing
wasn't at all the same thing.

Sara's sleepy eyes darken and she sits up.

SARA:
So you're virtually in my room?

JOSH:
Still mad at me, then?

Sara looks scandalized.

SARA:
Oh, but whatever for, dear friend?

Josh shrugs.

JOSH:
Well, generally endangering your
life, nearly getting you sold into
white slavery, which got you nearly
molested by a skeezy triad guy,
insulting your gender identity by
attempting to bribe you into the
former with shoes-- you'll be more
in touch with that one in college,
I think--, etcetera. Just, you
know, top of the head.

SARA:
Rhe-tori-cal.

JOSH:
I guessed.

Sara sighs.

SARA:
Look, what do you want? I have to
shower, and I'll prefer it if
you're a few miles away when that
happens.

Josh smiles.

JOSH:
Ah, then we're in luck. For I've
come to borrow your car.

SARA:
No, you're a horrible driver.

Josh shakes his head.

JOSH:
No, no, no. I'm a horrible shifter.
I'm an excellent driver. Excellent.

Sara closes her eyes and lays back on her pillow.

SARA:
Why?

JOSH:
To track down the man who paralyzed
and nearly killed me a half hour
ago so that I might finally uncover
the truth about the past ten years
and my, you know,
(whispers)
Psychic thing.

Sara opens her eye and stares at Josh.

SARA:
Really?

Shakes his head.

JOSH:
Probably not. But that's the idea.
I figure I hit a dead end in a few
hours and have to explain to my mom
why I'm failing history.

SARA:
You're kind of incredibly peppy for
being post-near death experience.

JOSH:
But I found out that I'm not
paranoid and/or mentally ill; there
is something going on. It balances.

Sara throws the covers off and swings her legs over the side
of the bed. She grabs a set of keys off the night stand.
Hands them to Josh.

SARA:
Be careful.

JOSH:
I will be.

Sara shakes her head.

SARA:
As in, "don't let my car get seen
by people who like to paralyze and
nearly kill others".

JOSH:
I'm planning to borrow a license
plate from the long term parking at
Sea-Tac. Pretty dead end-y.

SARA:
You're going to Seattle?

JOSH:
Andrew Porter's my only lead. And
my doctor seemed pretty adamant
that people not know Andrew
Porter's credit card is still out
there. It begs questions.

Sara bites her lip.

SARA:
You're going alone?

Josh shakes his head.

JOSH:
I'm thinking of recruiting Noah.
He's surprisingly competent.

SARA:
Then why do you need my car? He's
got a half dozen or so.

Josh grins.

JOSH:
People remember Audis and Beemers.
They don't remember neutral colored
Hondas and Toyotas. You're
definitely prettier than Noah, but
I want you both alive equally.

SARA:
Thank you?

Josh laughs.

JOSH:
Nope, thank you.

Josh pops to his feet, leans down and hugs Sara (who's just
stunned by that), and leaves the room.

INT. JOSH'S HOUSE, KITCHEN-MORNING

Claire's at the sink, scrubbing dishes. And muttering.

CLAIRE:
Sure, Josh, of course you can rain
check breakfast to hunt down the
weird dude paralyzing you in your
room. No, you don't need to
explain. Don't worry, I'll get the
dishes. No problem. Right.

Claire rinses a bowl and slams it down on the counter. The
bowl cracks in two.

CLAIRE: (CONT'D)
Good job, me.

She shuts off the water picks up the bowl halves. Turns
round, face-to-face with DAN KENDALL. She jumps, and drops
the bowl, which shatters.

CLAIRE: (CONT'D)
Hi.

Dan smiles, the sort the mentally ill get. And Jehovah's
Witnesses. He maintains a charitable silence.

CLAIRE: (CONT'D)
Sorry about the bowl.

INT. SARA'S CAR-DAY

Josh is behind the wheel. NOAH BOWDITCH clutches the armrest,
eyes fixed on the road.

NOAH:
Speed limit's 55. 20 over's felony.

Josh glances across at Noah.

JOSH:
Won't I see the cops coming?

Noah livens up. He eases forward.

NOAH:
No clue. I don't even think you're
really viewing anything.

JOSH:
No?

NOAH:
No. I think you're tapping a
collective unconscious. Or
something like it.

JOSH:
Not following.

NOAH:
Maybe you should slow down.

JOSH:
How would that help?

NOAH:
My pants would be clean when we get
wherever it is you're going?

JOSH:
No, seriously. What do you mean?

Noah leans over and digs in a pocket; comes up with a dime.

NOAH:
I mean this:

Noah tosses it onto the backseat. Josh glances back.

NOAH: (CONT'D)
Eyes on the road.

Josh looks forward. Noah, too.

NOAH: (CONT'D)
Now, heads or tails?

Josh opens his mouth, then closes it.

NOAH: (CONT'D)
Come on, easy one. Heads or tails?

Josh frowns and looks at Noah.

NOAH: (CONT'D)
You're cracking 80. Eyes front.

Josh looks back.

JOSH:
So I don't know. What's the point?

Noah glances over his shoulder. At the dime. Tails.

NOAH:
Now what is it?

JOSH:
Tails.

No hesitation there.

JOSH: (CONT'D)
How?

NOAH:
You can only know what the people
around you know. You could know the
underwear I'm wearing, as though
you saw it because I'd seen it. You
could see Keegan's killing. As he
did it. Everything you see, it's
stuff people around you know.

JOSH:
So I am psychic?

NOAH:
It was always psychic. Before, I
thought it was simpler. It's not.
You're, like, an empath.

JOSH:
An empath?

NOAH:
Closest thing, anyway. Think about
it. You had the vision of that dad
taking his kid before it happened.
Remote viewing doesn't explain
that. Empathy does. The abandonment
issues, father-son connection,
premeditation involving your own
skill set-- you know, the whole
vigilante thing-- it follows. He's
running it through in his head one
last time, the emotion resonates
with you more than, say, a serial
killer with a thing for 14 year
olds, so you get the heads up
sooner.

Josh shakes his head.

JOSH:
No, at the casino I knew what the
cards were. Doesn't work.

Noah gasps.

NOAH:
A triad-run casino fixing games in
their favor? Perish the thought! Of
course they were cheating. Duh.

JOSH:
That's why I don't need to study?

NOAH:
Pretty much. You're in contact with
varying levels of education every
day, but most are roughly high
school level. So it all seeps in
and marinates. I'd imagine it's
mostly permanent at this point.

JOSH:
So when I test, I'm cheating? I'm
just reading the teacher?

Noah shrugs.

NOAH:
You get perfect scores?

JOSH:
No.

NOAH:
You're reading the wrong people.

JOSH:
It does make a kind of sense. If I
accept the whole psychic premise.

NOAH:
You might want to go ahead and do
that. Schizophrenics don't have
your kind of track record. They're
wrong about ninja kittens on giant
ferrets ravaging Mongolian virgins
once-- nobody listens again.

Josh sighs.

JOSH:
That would be kind of awesome--
Unless you're a Mongolian virgin.

Noah pats Josh's shoulder.

NOAH:
Well, hey, maybe next week.

INT. HALLWAY/COHEN'S APARTMENT-MORNING

Dan's pounds on the door until it opens. DR. COHEN opens his
mouth, but Dan's on him in a second.

Cohen's on the floor in another second, hand to his mouth.
Dan kicks him several times, crouches down, and turns Cohen's
dazed-- and bloodied-- face to him.

DAN:
You don't come to the house again.
Whatever you're trying to
accomplish, it's done at a
distance. Back off, Doc.

Dan stands up, turns, walks out, Shuts the door behind him.

Cohen sits up against the wall, wipes his mouth with a
sleeve, and glares at the door.

INT. INTERROGRATION ROOM-DAY

KINNIT sits at a plain steel table, feet up, back to the
mirror and door. He's got a book open in his lap and
completely ignores TOM HACKETT.

Hackett's in shackles, arms and legs, prison uniform, and
exhausted. He sits bolt upright, sheen of sweat on his face.

Hackett groans and slumps forward, hands reach for the table
for support. Kinnit's eyes flick up.

KINNIT:
Up straight. Won't say it again.

Kinnit turns a page and reads another long second. Then
places a bookmark and closes the book.

KINNIT: (CONT'D)
You ever read Silence of the Lambs?

Hackett stares. Then--

HACKETT:
Saw the movie.

KINNIT:
So, tell me, why aren't you
Hannibal Lecter? I mean, a teenager
figured you out. You kept your
kills in a freezer next to--

Kinnit leans forward, scans the open file on the table--

KINNIT: (CONT'D)
Pizza rolls and Klondike bars. Not
exactly top of the serial killer
heap, are you?

HACKETT:
You trying to goad me into a
confession or something?

Kinnit smirks and shakes his head.

KINNIT:
Not at all. You're already
convicted. Our medical examiner is
saying there's at least three
bodies there. That's enough to get
you killed. I'm maybe inclined to
work for a life sentence, you
provide names for the bodies.

Hackett shakes it off.

HACKETT:
Fruits of the poisonous tree. It's
not admissable.

Kinnit shrugs.

KINNIT:
Sorry, you lose. Inevitable
discovery. Boy named Chris Mason
reported your little assault this
morning. Which means we'd have
arrested you and searched your
house for the weapon he described--
a revolver. Which, as it turns out,
was actually in the freezer next to
your-- I'm gonna go with "stash";
keeps my stomach steadier.

HACKETT:
The Shepherd boy planted the gun.

Kinnit frowns again. Glances at the file.

KINNIT:
Shepherd? That name doesn't appear
to be in the file. Wait a sec--

Kinnit smirks.

KINNIT: (CONT'D)
Am I talking to "Shepherd" now?

Hackett pops forward and grabs for the file. Kinnit's foot
snaps up and cracks down on Hackett's hand. Hackett jerks it
back and cradles it.

Kinnit tsks.

KINNIT: (CONT'D)
I thought we already had the sit up
straight and still talk.

INT. KINNIT'S OFFICE-DAY

Kinnit sits at his desk. Fingers tap keys while his eyes
consult a notepad propped under the monitor.

KNOCK, KNOCK.

Kinnit looks up. A PATROLMAN steps in with a file.

PATROLMAN:
I've got the file on your Hackett
informant's prints, sir. You wanted
to see it first thing?

Kinnit nods.

KINNIT:
Yeah, yeah, thanks a lot.

Kinnit reaches across the desk and takes the file. The
Patrolman leaves. Kinnit opens the file, starts to sit--

Misses the chair and falls right to the floor.

Kinnit hauls himself up to eye-level with the desk, stares
hard at the print. Josh's. And--

FLASHBACK: THE KNIFE PRINT ON A GIFT TAG.

Kinnit pulls himself to his feet and snatches up the phone.

INT. COHEN'S BATHROOM-DAY

Cohen enters the bathroom, ice pressed to his mouth.

The tub's still full. It looks a bit like coffee, now;
Cohen's wrinkled nose says it doesn't smell it.

He presses the ice against his mouth one more time, then sets
it aside on the counter. He reaches toward the tub and flips
the drain lever.

Water gurgles, and the tub starts to empty.

Cohen stares a long moment; mouth tight, nose wrinkled, eyes
hard and shining. Then he spins, drops to his knees, and
worships the porcelain god.



END OF ACT ONE
ACT TWO

EXT. PORTER'S BUILDING-DAY

Sara's car sits parked across and down the street from the
entrance to "Andrew Porter"'s building.

INT. SARA'S CAR-SAME

Josh's gaze is fixed on the entrance. Noah slumps in the
passenger seat, eyes on nothing specific.

NOAH:
I have to say, a history test would
be more stimulating than this.

Josh half-glances at Noah.

JOSH:
Be patient. Give it time.

NOAH:
I'd love to, just as soon as I find
out what we're actually being
patient for.

JOSH:
Ideally it'd be Dr. Cohen. I'd
settle for my mom, though.

NOAH:
Your fake mom you can't remember?

Josh nods.

JOSH:
Yep.

Noah throws his hands in the air.

NOAH:
Oh, well, then, that's just another
ten minutes. I mean, you'll know
her when you see her, of course.

Josh stays quiet.

NOAH: (CONT'D)
Note the thick, cream cheese-esque
coating of sarcasm on what I just
said.

JOSH:
Noted... And you're right.

Then Josh opens the door, gets out, and starts toward the
apartment building.

Noah stares a second, then grabs the keys and follows.

EXT. PORTER'S BUILDING-DAY

Noah catches Josh's arm as he steps onto the sidewalk in
front of the building. Before Josh can react he's being
hauled away from the door, around the corner into the alley
separating the apartment and next building.

Noah pushes him up against the wall.

NOAH:
What the hell, Josh?

JOSH:
I thought I was the mind reader.

Josh pushes Noah lightly away and steps away from the wall.

NOAH:
Did Sara's almost becoming the
youngest member of some sleaze's
harem teach us nothing?

JOSH:
What? Of course it did. I haven't
brought Sara, I've been in the
place before, and I'm armed.

Noah shakes his head.

NOAH:
Sorry, but tough as you are, fists
don't count.

JOSH:
Not fists.

Josh reaches inside his jacket, shows Noah the butt of a gun.

JOSH: (CONT'D)
A gift from Harry, my oh so very
favorite thug.

Noah stares, completely speechless--

And then he slaps Josh very hard across the face.

NOAH:
Are you frakking insane? Going in
with a gun and some foreknowledge
doesn't make you safe. It makes you
cocky, and right now, I'd love to
omit the letter that separates that
from being a noun.

Josh rubs his cheek and stares at Noah wide-eyed. And sighs.

JOSH:
Look, it's the best I can swing
under the circumstances.

NOAH:
Oh, well then here's a novel idea:
don't do it. Try later, when you've
thought a plan through. You thought
of that yet?

There's a loud rattling and a door crashes open down the
alley. Josh hauls Noah into a crouch in a dumpster's shadow.

The door's on Porter's side. A janitor wheels a cart out and
tosses a couple trash bags into the dumpster. Josh and Noah
huddle closer to the wall, out of sight.

The cart clatters back, and inside. Josh eases up, peers over
the dumpster's lip. The door starts to swing shut--

Josh sprints out from cover and to the door. There's nothing
else, so Josh jams his hand in to stop the door shutting.

Josh's mouth gapes open in silent pain.

Noah slams the dumpster lid shut. Josh glares at him.

NOAH: (CONT'D)
(whisper)
What? The guy needed to hear
something close or he'd check.

Josh raises his eyebrows.

JOSH:
Good thinking.

NOAH:
Thanks.

Josh turns to the door and eases it open, freeing his hand.
Already purpling.

JOSH:
Not broken.

NOAH:
Yeah, you just have the best luck.
Everything but irreversible bodily
harm. You're like John McClane
without the badge. And with hair.

JOSH:
Fair trade. So I'm thinking, the
stealthy approach is a viable
strategy, right?

Noah grins.

NOAH:
This is why I'm the sidekick.

JOSH:
No, you're the sidekick because I'm
just way cooler.

NOAH:
Hey, I could stick my hand in a
closing door, too. I just choose
not to.

JOSH:
Because you're the sidekick.

Josh opens the door and walks inside. Noah catches the door
and calls--

NOAH:
Yeah, we'll see who's the sidekick
when you need a Batmobile again.
Can't keep borrowing Vicki Vale's,
man--

Noah stares at his hand holding the door.

NOAH: (CONT'D)
Damn it-- I'm Robin, aren't I? Holy
doorman, Batman, wait up.

Noah steps inside and the door slams shut.

INT. KINNIT'S OFFICE-DAY

Kinnit presses the phone to his ear, and his eyes burn a hole
in his all-in-one fax/printer/copier.

Finally, a page starts to print. Kinnit switches on the
speaker, hangs up the handset, and stares down at the page.

STEW:
(speakerphone)
Now, I took the liberty of cleaning
it up. Fax an already borderline
print, not exactly high quality.

Kinnit pulls the sheet off and takes it to his desk, side by
side with Josh's print file from Hackett's house.

They don't match. Kinnit frowns, squints at the prints, but
they're no match. Not an arch, loop, or whorl in common.

KINNIT:
You're sure this is the right
print? You didn't mix it up?

INT. STEW'S OFFICE-DAY

It's a small thing, cluttered with files and decorations that
would be more at home in a middle school locker. Stew's hand
shoots under a pile of folders and pulls out the print--

Still not Josh's. And not a gift tag. Perfectly professional
materials, but the fingerprint is bad; Mr. Magoo would
discard the thing.

STEW:
I'm looking right at it. It's a
crap original, but what you have is
what I have, and what I've got is
what you left at the drop. What's
the problem, anyway?

INT. KINNIT'S OFFICE-DAY

Kinnit leans over the phone. He glances again at the
mismatched prints. Shakes his head.

KINNIT:
I thought I had a match. Guess my
memory's off. Thanks.

STEW:
No problem. I'll call you when I
really find something out.

KINNIT:
Yeah, thanks. Take care.

Kinnit jabs a button and the phone clicks off. He flops into
his chair and pulls both prints in front of him. He scoffs.

KINNIT: (CONT'D)
Yeah, Will, Josh Shepherd is your
Green Lantern. Amnesiac teenager
fights crime. Perfectly sensible.

Kinnit balls the fax up and tosses it into the wastebasket.

INT. JANITOR'S CLOSET-DAY

Josh and Noah stand close together in light coming through
the gaps in the door. Shelves with cleaner, mops, brooms,
buckets, surround them.

NOAH:
I bet some of these fumes kill
brain cells, you know.

JOSH:
Ooh, maybe I'll get cured.

Noah sighs and leans his head back against a mop.

NOAH:
Well I don't have them to spare.

Josh stares at Noah a second.

JOSH:
You really shouldn't leave a joke
that open. Especially when using a
dirty mop as a pillow.

Noah's head snaps up and he smacks at the back of his head.

NOAH:
You call yourself my friend,
letting some toddler's pre-school
vomit get on my neck?

JOSH:
Yes, I do. And know that's exactly
why I do this:

Josh guffaws.

NOAH:
Keep it down. We are trespassing.

Josh frowns, puzzled.

JOSH:
No we aren't. I've got a key.

NOAH:
So then what's our excuse for
hiding in a closet?

JOSH:
Hey, Seattle is known as a pretty
liberal city.

Noah processes this, and immediately jumps out of the closet.

INT. PORTER'S BUILDING, SERVICE HALLWAY-CONTINUOUS

Josh follows. They set off down a hallway, neutral paint,
fluorescent lights. At the end, a FREIGHT ELEVATOR.

NOAH:
I really don't need to fuel those
rumors. The swim team's already all
over that one.

JOSH:
They're the swim team. They shave
their legs. Pot, meet kettle.

NOAH:
And that's how I spent most of the
first week of ninth grade in a
locker at the pool.

They reach the elevator. Josh jabs a button.

JOSH:
You put up a fight, at least?

Noah nods.

NOAH:
Oh yeah, it's how I ended up with
an implant where my left front
incisor used to be.

JOSH:
Ouch.

NOAH:
Who's the sidekick now?

JOSH:
Eh, still you.

NOAH:
B--

Josh flashes his teeth.

JOSH:
I still have all the originals.

Noah pouts and kicks at the elevator door right as it opens.

NOAH:
Bugger.

INT. PORTER'S BUILDING, LOBBY-DAY

The lobby from the pilot. The DOORMAN, too. He watches on a
monitor as Josh and Noah board the freight elevator. Then he
picks up a phone and hits a speed dial.

DOORMAN:
Yeah. You said to call when he
showed up. He's on his way up...
No, freight elevator. Yes, ma'am,
ready and waiting. Thank you.

INT. COHEN'S BATHROOM-DAY

Cohen stands over the tub. It's empty of fluid, now there's
just the crumbled remains of a skeleton.

Cohen turns a faucet, runs a shower. The bone dust drains.
Cohen bends down, sticks a cheap pair of shower shoes, coated
by the same dust, under the spray as well.

INT. INTERROGRATION ANTEROOM-DAY

Kinnit bites into a near-finished burger. Chews and watches
through the viewing window at Hackett, arms folded, head
down, asleep.

He eats the last bit of sandwich and picks up a grease
stained paper bag from a narrow folding table behind him.
Blows in, fills it with air, and pinches it off.

Then he opens the door and strides in--

INT. INTERROGRATION ROOM-CONTINUOUS

Slams the door, and slams his fist into the bag of air.

BOOM!

Hackett snaps to his feet. His head whips about, searching.
Bloodshot eyes slow focus on Kinnit, the remains of the bag.

Kinnit smiles.

KINNIT:
Wakey-wakey, Mr. Dahmer. Names, or
you get to pick between the needle,
or the gallows. What'll it be?

Hackett stares, droopy-eyed.

HACKETT:
Names?

KINNIT:
Yep. Three names, three consecutive
life sentences. Wanna give us all
of your kills, I figure they'd give
you concurrent. Then you'd only
have to legally die once to have a
shot at getting out.

Hackett nods, sinks back into the chair, looks at his feet.

KINNIT: (CONT'D)
This is a limited time offer. We
seem to have found some skulls in
our excavation of your backyard,
and our medical examiner is working
on dental records as we speak. So
call it 48 hours at most.

Kinnit nods at the floor.

HACKETT:
I'd take the offer.

Hackett nods his head, urging on.

KINNIT:
So why don't you?

Hackett sighs.

HACKETT:
Because....

Kinnit rolls his eyes.

KINNIT:
"Because...." Why?

Hackett looks up.

HACKETT:
Because... I don't know them.

Kinnit claps his hands. Loudly.

KINNIT:
Well, then, guess it'll be death
for you and we'll go with their
dental records.

Hackett shakes his head.

HACKETT:
Don't think you'll get a lot.

KINNIT:
Oh? And why not?

Hackett relaxes. He leans back in his chair and makes eye
contact with Kinnit. Talking shop gets the turtle out.

HACKETT:
Well, first, because most of them
weren't exactly big on dental
hygiene. I doubt there're records
to match. And second, because the
ones who had work done had gold.

KINNIT:
What does their choice of material
matter?
(...)
Oh.

Hackett shrugs.

HACKETT:
It's good money. Paid for the
freezer. Few other things, too.

Kinnit stares, nose curls with disgust, and he shivers.

KINNIT:
Okay, then. Now, our search didn't
turn up any lawyers' numbers, so I
took the liberty of finding you a
public defender. He'll work with
you on the finer points of your
upcoming execution.

HACKETT:
How terribly kind of you.

Kinnit smiles saccharine sweet.

KINNIT:
Isn't it just? Now, you enjoy the
rest of your life. Watch out for
shivs, even convicts have
standards, and they end with
pedophiles, cannibals, and sons who
don't send mother's day cards.

Hackett chuckles and holds out his already shackled hands.

HACKETT:
Guilty on all counts.

Kinnit's eyebrows rise.

KINNIT:
Any chance you want to go properly
on record with the first one?

HACKETT:
I believe this is the point where I
say, "I want a lawyer."

Kinnit nods.

KINNIT:
You're actually way behind on that
one, not that it matters.

HACKETT:
Even so.

KINNIT:
Even so. Coming right up.

Kinnit turns on his heel, opens the door, and heads back in--

INT. INTERROGRATION ANTEROOM-CONTINUOUS

Kinnit walks past Dan Kendall, claps him on the shoulder--

KINNIT:
All yours. You lose a coin toss?

Kendall shrugs.

DAN:
Something like that. Still, I might
be able to get him down to life.

KINNIT:
Yeah, but why would you go and do a
thing like that?

DAN:
What can I say? I'm not evil.

Kinnit stares at Hackett through the window a second.

KINNIT:
If wanting to kill that guy makes
me evil, I say hand me the
pitchfork and horns.

INT. FREIGHT ELEVATOR-DAY

Josh and Noah stand side-by-side.

NOAH:
So we just... Walk in?

JOSH:
Yeah. Nothing to find, anyway. It
was stripped when I was last here.

NOAH:
Why?

JOSH:
Hiding something, I guess.

NOAH:
So we're going somewhere where we
expect to find nothing in an
attempt to find something out?

JOSH:
Sounds crazy, right?

NOAH:
Well, only completely.

JOSH:
I just have a feeling.

NOAH:
From the doctor?

JOSH:
If your thinking's right, it would
have to be.

The elevator arrives, the doors open. Josh and Noah step out--

INT. PORTER'S BUILDING, FLOOR 14-CONTINUOUS

They're in the "L" bend with no doors. Josh sets off at a
fast walk for the hallway proper. Noah steps to catch up.

Josh turns the corner and stops dead. Noah collides with him.

NOAH:
What'd you stop fo--

Josh is staring. 14-B, a WOMAN stares at Josh and Noah.
Dressed well; dark, expensive clothes; a hat covering hair
done up; large sunglasses; unremarkable make-up. She's masked
without being obvious about it.

She turns without reaction and sets off at a brisk pace for
the elevator. Presses the button and the door opens. Steps
inside, hits another button. Josh wakes up.

JOSH:
I think she knows me.

NOAH:
She knows you?

JOSH:
I think so. Wait!

Josh runs down the hall for the doors, but too late. Doors
shut and she's gone. Josh smacks the doors lightly.

JOSH: (CONT'D)
Damn.

Noah's by the apartment doors, facing 14-A. He sniffs.

NOAH:
Josh?

JOSH:
What?

NOAH:
Do you--

Noah presses his nose to 14-A's doorjamb.

NOAH: (CONT'D)
Do you smell that?

Josh frowns and shakes his head, annoyed.

JOSH:
Smell what?

He walks toward the doors.

Noah sniffs again.

NOAH:
It smells like--

Noah's eyes go wide.

NOAH: (CONT'D)
Oh, god.

Noah lunges for Josh's arm, yanks and spins, pulling then
pushing Josh back up the hall toward the "L" bend.

Josh fights him.

JOSH:
What're you doing? We have the
right floor! That was her!

Josh feints right and goes left. Noah scrambles and throws a
knee into Josh's groin. Josh groans, and Noah all but throws
him around the corner. Noah dives after as--

KA-BOOM!

The hallway channels hell.



END OF ACT TWO
ACT THREE

MONTAGE-SILENCE BUILDS TO RINGING TURNS TO SIRENS THROUGHOUT

1. The hallway filled with smoke. Noah on top of Josh. No
movement, then Josh stirs.

2. Noah and Josh on their feet, smoke thinner now. Both
gingerly flex arms and legs, check damage.

3. Stairwell. Josh and Noah stare over the banister, down at
residents rushing downstairs, firemen coming up.

4. An open elevator door, no elevator. Noah grips Josh's arm
with both hands. Josh swings Noah onto the next floor.

5. Josh hangs by his hands and swings onto the floor.

6. Josh breaks in an apartment door.

7. Twin sinks, long mirror. Josh and Noah scrub their faces.

8. In front of a closet in a bedroom. Josh and Noah pull on
new clothes.

EXT. PORTER'S BUILDING-DAY

Josh and Noah lean against Sara's car. Josh holds a trash bag
in one hand. Josh has some bruising, Noah's got a fresh
bandage over one eye and a fat lip.

Josh's tone and affect is flat, awed.

JOSH:
We were just bombed.

Noah's, too. He nods.

NOAH:
Yep.

Josh looks at Noah.

JOSH:
You saved my life.

NOAH:
You're welcome?

JOSH:
Thanks.

Josh looks back at the building. FIRE TRUCKS, AMBULANCES,
POLICE CARS FILL THE STREET, along with FIREMEN, COPS, and
MEDICS. Everyone's more concerned with the flames licking out
of windows fourteen floors up than with a couple teen
rubberneckers down the street.

NOAH:
Andrew Porter's family is supremely
screwed up.

Josh nods.

JOSH:
Starting to look that way.

NOAH:
Starting?

JOSH:
Nevermind.

NOAH:
What now?

Josh sighs and rubs his neck.

JOSH:
Finish sanitizing, get rid of these
clothes. Then back here, and talk
to the guy who blew the whistle.

NOAH:
Blew the whistle?

JOSH:
I doubt my "mother" just decided to
blow up the apartment on a whim in
the same hour I showed up.

NOAH:
Guess not.

JOSH:
My money's on the doorman. He's got
the security video, must've seen us
coming. And I know he knows me.

NOAH:
And he'll just be happy to tell us
what he did?

Josh shrugs.

JOSH:
I'm a persuasive guy.

Josh opens the passenger door and gets in. Noah watches, then
walks round the hood to the driver's side, muttering--

NOAH:
Oh god, Sara, please don't have
jumper cables. Please, please,
please.

Noah opens the door and gets in.

EXT. ALLEY-DAY

Josh stares at a flaming barrel. The trash bag rests on top.

Noah leans against the car. He inhales a handful of fries and
washes it down with a sip from a cup.

NOAH:
Bombs make you hungry.

Josh's eyes stay on the barrel.

JOSH:
The adrenaline, I think.

NOAH:
Well, sure, of course. Still,
didn't really believe it.

Josh doesn't respond. Just watches the bag burn.

NOAH: (CONT'D)
You know, breathing melting plastic
isn't really good for you.

JOSH:
I'll probably live.

Noah takes another sip and hesitates a second.

NOAH:
Are you going to kill someone?

Josh glances over his shoulder at Noah.

JOSH:
I really, really hope not.

NOAH:
But you might?

Josh shrugs.

JOSH:
Sure, but it's about as likely as
getting blown up seemed at nine
this morning.

NOAH:
So you're saying give it a few
hours?

JOSH:
No, I'm saying I'm not going to
kill anybody unless they try to
kill me first.

NOAH:
Again.

JOSH:
Again.

NOAH:
You know, you should keep count of
people who try to kill you. Bet
you'll get into Guinness before 18.

JOSH:
For all I know I already am.

NOAH:
Okay, fine, if you want to be all
melancholy about it.

JOSH:
It is murder, Noah.

NOAH:
No, it's failed murder, and if you
take it as seriously as you've been
doing, you'll also stroke out
before you're 18.

JOSH:
So I'm supposed to quip and chuckle
through all this?

Noah shrugs.

NOAH:
I find puns defuse tension pretty
well. Now let's blow this popsicle
stand.

JOSH:
Really bad pun.

NOAH:
You new? They all are.

JOSH:
No, I mean it's only barely a pun.

Noah spreads his arms.

NOAH:
What d'you want? I just got blown
up. You expect my comedy to be back
up, just like that?

Josh turns and heads for the car.

JOSH:
Dude, it's like your job. I do the
fighting and sleuthing, you do the
color commentary and driving. Very
simple division of labor.

Josh opens the passenger door, and Noah goes round to the
driver's side.

NOAH:
I finance you, too.

JOSH:
Like you've anything better to do
with the money.

Noah opens the door, stops halfway in.

NOAH:
Hey, I could be dating supermodels.

Josh stares.

NOAH: (CONT'D)
Aspiring supermodels?

...

NOAH: (CONT'D)
Girls who hang out with
supermodels?

...

NOAH: (CONT'D)
Ah! Girls who've heard of
supermodels.

Josh nods.

JOSH:
There ya go.

Josh gets in and shuts the door.

NOAH:
You know, that's why I hang out
with you. Real self-esteem boost.
Warm fuzzies all over.

EXT. POLICE STATION, REAR-EVENING

The back holds a parking lot, filled with PATROL CARS, a SWAT
VAN, SEVERAL UNMARKEDS. A short flight of stairs lead to a
set of plain gray double doors.

In front of the double doors, a white PRISON BUS idles, doors
open; TWO GUARDS flank it.

The double doors open and Tom Hackett shuffles out, shackled,
escorted by Kinnit's Patrolman. Dan Kendall's at his left.

They hit the bottom of the steps; Dan turns to the Patrolman.

DAN:
Can I get a second?

The Patrolman shrugs. Dan turns Kendall toward him, and steps
to his right, closer to the stairs. The Patrolman's to the
right, near the bus.

DAN: (CONT'D)
Okay, now, I'll be in touch with
you by the end of the week, give
you an update on our progress.

Hackett doesn't respond, his eyes stay fixed in front of him.

DAN: (CONT'D)
I'll do what I can to get the death
penalty off the table, but, well--

HACKETT:
I know.

DAN:
Yeah.

HACKETT:
Hey, you find that Shepherd kid. He
set this up, I swear.

Dan nods and glances at his shoes.

DAN:
Right, shouldn't be too hard if
he's in school.

A pause. Dan sighs and claps a hand on Hackett's shoulder.

DAN: (CONT'D)
Okay, so, talk to you--

BANG!

Hackett's head jerks back and his body crumples. Dan ducks,
as well as the Patrolman, who draws his gun. The Patrolman
and the Guards fan out, searching for the source of the shot.

No one notices Dan, eyes fixed on a building off to the left.

And no one notices the split-second glint of light on glass
up on the roof of that building.

INT./EXT. SARA'S CAR/PORTER'S BUILDING-EVENING

Josh and Noah sit, eyes riveted on the front of the building.

The Doorman sits on the backseat of a cop car. He talks to a
DETECTIVE, who scribbles notes on his pad.

Noah leans toward Josh.

NOAH:
What do you think he's writing?

JOSH:
Grocery list. Draft of his wedding
vows. Calculating how many cops it
takes to screw in a lightbulb.

NOAH:
How many?

JOSH:
None; turned itself in.

The Detective says something and steps back. The Doorman
stands up, runs a hand through his hair, and shakes the
Detective's hand.

Josh sits up straighter.

JOSH: (CONT'D)
Okay, here we go.

The Detective ducks police tape and enters the lobby. The
Doorman ducks another perimeter of tape and heads up the
street, past Josh and Noah on the other side of the road.

Josh glances around the cabin.

JOSH: (CONT'D)
You see a hat anywhere?

Noah glances over his shoulder.

NOAH:
Well, yeah, but--

JOSH:
Just hand it over. Doesn't need to
be pretty, I just need some cover.

Noah shakes his head.

NOAH:
Okay, man--

He reaches behind him.

EXT. PARKING GARAGE-NIGHT

Full dark now. Streetlights and shadows. The Doorman rounds a
corner onto a block with a large parking garage.

Josh follows after, thirty feet behind and to the shadows.
Hustles through a streetlight that illuminates the pink ball
cap on his head.

The Doorman turns into the entrance proper, Josh rolls
himself over the barrier and inside--

INT. PARKING GARAGE-CONTINUOUS

Josh crouches and peaks over the trunk of one car, as the
Doorman's shoes click toward Josh and then away, down a row.

Josh stands up and slips forward, cars as shields. The
Doorman fumbles out a key fob and presses a button. A mid
size sedan beeps and flashes. Josh grins.

JOSH:
Lucky day.

Josh sprints across the garage to the Doorman's row, reaches
in his pocket, comes out with a handful of change, then hurls
it at his old location.

Change rattles on the floor and the Doorman spins, eyes wide.

Josh's eyes bore into the Doorman, frozen for a second. Then
the Doorman takes a step toward the noise.

DOORMAN:
Hello?

Josh moves toward the hoods of the cars and sidles forward.

The Doorman paces slowly toward the change.

DOORMAN: (CONT'D)
Someone there? Anyone?

He stands, in the middle of the aisle, eyes on the shadows,
head cocked toward them as if a dog. Nothing.

DOORMAN: (CONT'D)
(to himself)
All righty then.

The Doorman turns and heads back to his car.

EXT. PARKING GARAGE-NIGHT

The gate lifts up and the Doorman's car rolls out, swings a
right down the street.

INT. DOORMAN'S CAR-CONTINUOUS

The Doorman puts on his radio, and pulls a cigarette from a
pack in the cupholder. He cracks his window, depresses the
lighter, and puts the cigarette in his mouth.

And than Josh pops up from the backseat, whips his belt
around the Doorman's neck, and yanks tight; an involuntary
gasp jettisons the cigarette from the Doorman's mouth.

The Doorman glances in the rear-view. Just a pink ball cap.
Josh growls.

JOSH:
No smoking. Stay calm, listen,
drive, and you live. Don't and....
You know, bad stuff, etcetera.

EXT. VACANT LOT-NIGHT

The Doorman's car sits in the middle of the lot, surrounded
by assorted trash. Half a chain link fence sags inward.

The trunk is open, and Josh leans over it.

JOSH:
I'd be sorrier about this, but,
well, accessory to attempted
murder. Kinda saps my compassion.
Call me petty.

The Doorman's hands are bound behind him, connected to
likewise bound feet by another length of rope. A bungee cord
keeps a rag's position in his mouth.

JOSH: (CONT'D)
Let this be a lesson: Don't prepare
for disaster. Really, this much
rope, you make it too easy.

Josh closes the trunk halfway, then lightning flashes.

JOSH: (CONT'D)
Damn.

He opens it.

JOSH: (CONT'D)
You got an umbrella?

INT. SARA'S CAR-NIGHT

Rain drums on the windows and roofs. Josh slumps in the
passenger seat, sodden, no umbrella. He scrolls through a
CELL PHONE's directory. Noah leans in from the driver's seat.

JOSH:
Apparently, her name is Gwen.

NOAH:
Nice name. Ring any bells?

Josh shakes his head.

JOSH:
Not one.

The screen scrolls onto a Gwen. Josh freezes a second. Then--

JOSH: (CONT'D)
Found it.

Noah leans in closer.

NOAH:
You gonna call?

Josh takes a breath.

JOSH:
That was the idea.

NOAH:
Yep.

Josh makes no move to dial.

JOSH:
I just didn't think I'd really get
anywhere.

NOAH:
So you don't want to find out
what's going on?

Josh frowns and half shrugs.

JOSH:
No, I do, jus--

Noah jabs the "Send" button, then cowers by his door arm up
to block a hit.

Josh just stares at the phone. He doesn't blink.

Then he turns the speaker on.

GWEN:
(on phone)
Hello? Vernon? Hello?

Josh closes his eyes a second, clears his throat. His voice
is tight, an imitation of the usual confidence.

JOSH:
This phone's away from Vernon at
the moment.

Quiet soft white noise from the phone.

GWEN:
Andrew?

JOSH:
Seems so, Gwen.

GWEN:
What do you want?

Josh finally opens his eyes.

JOSH:
For starters, I'd like to know why
you tried to blow me up. And then
I'd like to meet, and talk about
some things.

More silence. Gwen sounds confused, annoyed, and pissed.

GWEN:
You know why that happened. And
there's nothing to talk about. You
know that, too.

Josh's face is stone. Not the action hero kind, the "I'm
About to Burst Into a Sobbing Rant" kind.

JOSH:
Some... Circumstances have arisen
that assure me I have no clue.

GWEN:
I doubt it'd bother you even if you
did have a clue.

Josh glances at Noah. "WTF?"

Josh sighs.

JOSH:
Look, you want me dead, right? For
whatever reason.

Silence.

JOSH: (CONT'D)
I'll take that for a yes. So you
want me dead, I want to talk. Tell
me where to meet you, I'll come
alone, you talk to me, then you can
kill me. Fair trade, no?

Silence still.

GWEN:
What game are you playing?

JOSH:
No game. Make it a park. You have
the people to set up an explosion
I'm betting looks like a tragic gas
leak, they can check a park to see
if I'm alone. You take me, talk to
me a bit, then blow my brains out.
Where's the downside? Apart from
the, you know, obvious.

Silence.

JOSH: (CONT'D)
Or I can disapp--

GWEN:
Call you back in five minutes.

The lines goes dead. Josh shuts the phone.

Josh looks at Noah. The tears well up.

JOSH:
What the hell did I do?

INT. SARA'S CAR-LATER

Josh has the phone to his ear. He nods.

JOSH:
Okay, in one hour. I understand.

Josh shuts the phone.

Josh turns to Noah.

JOSH: (CONT'D)
This is as far as you go.

NOAH:
But--

JOSH:
Nope. I said alone, and I meant it.
I did something horrible. For all I
know, when I find out what it is,
I'll do myself in. I don't know.
But this Andrew Porter's business.
And Andrew Porter doesn't know Noah
Bowditch. His loss completely, but
he doesn't know you. Right now
you're safe. And you're staying
that way.

Noah opens his mouth, then shuts it. Not really words for the
walking into death talk.

NOAH:
If I don't hear from you by nine
tomorrow morning, I'm calling the
cops. Andrew Porter, Josh Shepherd,
the Wizard of Oz, God-- I don't
care no one's stopping that.

Josh nods.

JOSH:
That's fair.

.... Not much to say. Josh moves for the door.

JOSH: (CONT'D)
Hope I see you tomorrow.

INT. MORGUE-NIGHT

A few metal tables. One is set up with three skulls, two of
them in one piece. In the middle, Tom Hackett lies covered to
the chest by a sheet. Kinnit stands over the body, eyes on
the face with a hole through the forehead.

KINNIT:
Shouldn't I feel a little bad?

Ella FISHER sits on the last, empty table. She watches Kinnit
watching Hackett.

FISHER:
Maybe. But you're not the only one.

KINNIT:
Yeah. But still.

FISHER:
Yeah.

Kinnit smacks the table lightly.

KINNIT:
You need to do this tonight?

Fisher shakes her head and gives a small smile.

FISHER:
I could probably never do it and no
one would really press.

KINNIT:
You due for quality time with your
daughter?

FISHER:
That was the plan. Why?

Kinnit shrugs.

KINNIT:
I feel like being drunk, and being
drunk alone is incredibly sad.

Fisher wags a finger.

FISHER:
We aren't sleeping together again.

Kinnit puts his hands up, in a back-off gesture.

KINNIT:
Hey, I don't know where you're
from, but not every drink ends in
sex. Unless you're a bunny.

Fisher cants her head to one side.

FISHER:
So just that one, then? Gee, Will,
you sure know how to make a girl
feel special.

EXT. PARK, PARKING LOT/PLAYGROUND-NIGHT

Rain pours. Trees everywhere. Josh crouches on the edge of a
merry-go-round, hugging himself. Visibility's crap, but the
head lights that swing into the lot are impossible to miss.

Josh stands, and walks to the edge of the lot. It's a SHORT
STRETCH LIMO, black. It rolls to a stop in front of Josh.

The rear door opens, and an large ESCORT in a suit climbs
out. He takes a step toward Josh.

ESCORT:
Andrew Porter?

Josh shrugs.

JOSH:
Not recently.

The Escort doesn't react.

JOSH: (CONT'D)
Yeah, sure.

ESCORT:
Get in.

The Escort gestures for the door. Josh glances over his
shoulder, at wide open space masked by sheets of rain.

ESCORT: (CONT'D)
We have people in the park. You try
to run, I will drop you before you
make fifty yards.

JOSH:
Just FYI?

ESCORT:
Yes.

Josh nods, head slightly down, and starts toward the limo.

JOSH:
Okay, then I guess I'm getting in
the car.

The Escort holds the door, and pushes Josh in. He follows
immediately.

INT. LIMO-CONTINUOUS

The Escort shoves Josh sideways along the seat. The door
slams shut, and the engine revs almost immediately.

Josh barely notes any of this. He's staring at GWEN.

It's the WOMAN from Porter's building. Same clothes, but the
sunglasses and hat are gone, and her hair's down. She's maybe
40, but she could say 30 and no one'd challenge it. Dark
hair, bright eyes, tranquilizer pistol in one hand.

Josh notices it way too late. There's the tiniest puff and
Josh's hand snaps to his neck, clutches at the dart there.

Josh opens his mouth, and some gibberish spills forth, before
he spill sideways across the seat.

Black.



END OF ACT THREE
ACT FOUR

INT. NOAH'S ROOM-MORNING

Noah lies on his bed, a textbook open across his stomach.
He's fully dressed in clothes from the night before.

And his eyes are wide open, fixed on a clock.

9:29... 9:30.

Noah sits up and swings his feet off the bed. Grabs his phone
from the night stand. Flips it open.

He runs a hand through his hair, bites his lip, sighs.

He dials:

9-1-1.

His thumb hovers over the "Send" button.

INT. DINER-MORNING

Dan Kendall enters, briefcase in hand, weaves by a couple of
tables, and makes straight for a row of booths. Near the back
of the place, Dr. Cohen digs into a plate of eggs.

Dan sits down across from him.

Cohen slides a carafe of orange juice across the table, next
to an empty glass on Dan's side.

Dan pours a glass.

DAN:
How's your face?

Cohen finally looks Dan in the eye.

COHEN:
You broke my nose.

DAN:
Sorry.

COHEN:
Yeah. But you weren't wrong.

Dan nods.

DAN:
No. I wasn't.

Cohen takes another bite of eggs. Chews, swallows.

COHEN:
Will the Dawson girl be an issue?

Dan shrugs.

DAN:
No more than Carson and Bowditch.

Cohen pushes the plate aside.

COHEN:
He needs to stop telling.

DAN:
He's improving. Three's not bad.

COHEN:
Until he dates one of the girls and
they break up.

DAN:
The kids are off-limits.

Cohen glares.

COHEN:
I know that. Still a risk.

DAN:
One beyond us.

COHEN:
You hungry?

Dan shakes his head.

DAN:
No. I need to get to work. Just
dropping off.

Dan sets his briefcase on the table, pops the latches,
reaches in, and slides a file across the table.

Then shuts the case, stands up.

DAN: (CONT'D)
Thank you.

Then he turns and leaves.

Cohen pulls the file in front of him, opens it up. Copy of
Hackett's file. Photos of the freezer, Hackett's mugshot,
Hackett, hole through his head, dead on the autopsy table.

COHEN:
(to himself)
Yeah. Welcome.

INT. LAUNDRY ROOM-DAY

Black. A soft moan, then a groan. Josh eyes open. A light in
the ceiling, plain walls, washer and dryer to the left, a
steel table to the right, plain door directly in front.

Josh sits up. He's in a pile of wrinkled, dark with water
towels. Josh sniffs and wrinkles his nose. Stretches his
neck, and feels welt on his neck where the dart was.

Josh pulls himself up on the table. He stares at his very
warped reflection.

JOSH:
Joshua, you're a very big idiot.

He closes his eyes and rubs his forehead.

JOSH: (CONT'D)
Oh, I know. I know.

The door bursts open, slams into Josh. White light flares.

INT. GWEN'S LIVING ROOM-DAY

The flare resolves into Josh, arms behind him, cuffed to a
straight chair, cuff weaved in the slats. Not going anywhere
without that chair.

It's an apartment. Great views of the city. Perfectly
decorated, and completely devoid of personality. The room
screams beige despite being more green than anything.

Josh is positioned in front of coffee table in front of a
sectional sofa. A YELLOW LAB lounges on the chaise lounge
portion. No one and nothing else occupies it.

Josh eyes the dog a second. Frowns and his eyes shift down
and left. Then vaguely mouths something. Then, stronger:
"Haley". Finally--

JOSH:
Haley?

The Lab/HALEY perks up. Josh breaks into a grin.

JOSH: (CONT'D)
Hey, girl.

The dog hops up and comes to Josh tail awag. Josh doesn't
have any arms, but the dog just hops up.

JOSH: (CONT'D)
You been a good girl, Haley? Who's
a good dog?

GWEN:
Haley, out.

Full on command tone. Sharp and loud and no bullshit. Haley
drops off Josh and takes off out of sight.

Gwen enters Josh's view. She sits down on the sofa, directly
across from Josh.

GWEN: (CONT'D)
Look over your shoulder.

Josh does. The Escort from the night before stands there,
jacket off, shoulder holster revealed.

GWEN: (CONT'D)
Try anything, and....

JOSH:
I think I understand.

GWEN:
You were always bright.

Josh dives in.

JOSH:
How do we know each other Mrs.
Porter?

Gwen frowns and her heads tilts a bit.

GWEN:
Mrs. Porter?

JOSH:
It's your name, right?

Her eyes narrow.

GWEN:
It's your name. And your mother's
I'd guess. Not mine.

JOSH:
You're not a Porter?

Gwen shakes her head.

GWEN:
No, and you know that. Whatever
you're playing, I don't really
care. We both know what you did.
Don't you can't.

JOSH:
Except that I can't. What's your
name? What did I do? And who the
hell is Andrew Porter?

Gwen sighs, gets up. She walks past Josh. She returns, laptop
in hand. She opens it, works the trackpad as she speaks--

GWEN:
My name is Gwen Ross. Andrew Porter
is the boy who saved my son's life
in a car accident. What you did--

She spins the computer round. Camera footage of a room two
beds, two people in them. One, a YOUNG MAN about Josh's age,
the other a MAN a few years older than Gwen.

The Man is on a vent, and there's a lack of a leg on his
right side.

The Young Man is in better shape. All his limbs, breathing
for himself, but a bandage round eye and head.

GWEN: (CONT'D)
--what you did was later fail to
kill my son and husband and the
crew of our yacht. Apparently our
high schools don't teach bombmaking
the way they used to.

Josh just stares at the screen, eyes wide, mouth half open.
It's a few seconds before his attention goes back to Gwen.
When it does, his eyes fix on hers. Completely serious.

JOSH:
I don't remember, but I believe
you. You-- You can shoot me now if
you like.



END OF SHOW