Frameshift: Josh Shepherd's Day Off

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Frameshift: "Josh Shepherd's Day Off"



TEASER

INT. GWEN'S LIVING ROOM-MORNING

JOSH:
You're not a Porter?

GWEN shakes her head.

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

JOSH SHEPHERD sighs, leans forward as far as his bonds allow.

JOSH:
Well, okay, except that I, you
know, 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, a laptop in hand. She opens it, works the
trackpad as she speaks, her voice shaking with anger and her
face flushed--

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 KID 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 bomb
making the way they used to. But
then, you're probably not 17.

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 trust me, I
believe you. You-- You can shoot me
now if you like.

.... Gwen stares, eyes narrowed. Then she flashes her
eyebrows, glances at the ESCORT behind, and gives a tiny nod.

GWEN:
Don't make a mess, CURTIS.

Footsteps on tile. A door opens. Soft rummaging. Then the
unmistakable sound of plastic sheeting being unfolded.

Josh perks right on up. Nervous smile.

JOSH:
No. Oh, no, no, no, no. Okay, I
don't think you followed me. My
permission for you to kill me was
meant to demonstrate my absolute
belief that "I" did what you said,
but at the same time was intended
to convey the message that, you
know, the "I" that was Andrew
Porter and the "I" that's me
aren't, well, aren't the same I. Or
me. Or us. Or something.

Gwen watches him, then shakes her head like a draft of pure
stupid just rustled her hair.

GWEN:
Did you just have a stroke?

Josh pouts.

JOSH:
Actually, I thought I was being
reasonably clever.

GWEN:
I guess if you're illiterate.

Curtis drags Josh's chair backward, yanks it onto a spread of
plastic sheeting. Josh glances at him, back to Gwen.

JOSH:
I really, really didn't do this.
Not Josh Shepherd. Andrew Porter, I
buy that, absolutely, but not me.

Gwen pulls the computer back to her. Taps some keys. She
looks up at him, the first bits of doubt cloud her eyes.

GWEN:
Josh Shepherd who's been missing
for ten years Josh Shepherd?

JOSH:
No, the psychic.

Gwen points at Curtis.

GWEN:
That man is thirty second's from
emptying your skull on the floor,
and you're making jokes?

Josh shrugs.

JOSH:
I think it might be a defense
mechanism. When in danger, quip.
But also, it's not a joke.

GWEN:
You think I won't kill the crazy
amnesia kid who thinks he's
psychic?

Josh shrugs.

JOSH:
Actually, I don't think you'd kill
me if I was sitting here gloating
over those men in that room. You
can blow up an apartment, sure, but
I don't think you can blast my head
off in your own living room and be
anything like the woman the people
you're avenging knew when that's
done. And I think you know it.

Gwen keeps her face blank, but her eyes say Josh is spot on.

JOSH: (CONT'D)
So even if you don't accept the
premise that I'm an amnesiac seven
year old with some incredibly
accurate hallucinations, accept the
fact that the boy that was with me
in that apartment is an absolute
innocent in all this, and that you
very nearly turned him into your
son, and that you owe him an
explanation.

GWEN:
But he's not here.

Josh doesn't quite suppress a smile.

JOSH:
Oh, I'd be happy to pass along the
pertinent bits.

A tiny smile slips over Gwen's lips that's quickly replaced
by a little frown.

GWEN:
You're really not Andrew. You're
much louder. And, I don't know, I
just kind of believe you. You've
got a different... Vibe.

JOSH:
Well, that's convenient.

Gwen glares.

JOSH: (CONT'D)
Hey, not complaining. Women's
intuition, I am a big fan.

... Well, what do you say to the un-assassin you're about to
maybe not kill, but maybe not? Or whatever. You have an
awkward pause, that's what.

Gwen glances at Curtis.

GWEN:
Take a break.

Curtis glances between them, and glares at Josh, but he
leaves the room.

JOSH:
So, where does the Andrew Porter
story start?

GWEN:
With how your parents died. And how
we decided to take you in.

JOSH:
Huh. This isn't going to be a
Lifetime movie, is it?



END OF TEASER
ACT ONE

EXT. COUNTRY ROAD-DAY (14 MONTHS AGO)

A two lane road curves along, bordered by forest on both
sides. Empty. A TOWN CAR rolls into view.

INT. TOWN CAR-CONTINUOUS

The Kid from Gwen's laptop sprawls in back, in a school
uniform, backpack on the seat beside him, headphones on, foot
tapping in time to the music. He's good looking, and he looks
like he knows it.

Up front, a DRIVER, eyes on the road.

EXT. COUNTRY ROAD-DAY-CONTINUOUS

The town car hits a straightaway and picks up a bit of speed.
From the other direction, a plain colored sedan approaches.

Between the cars, on the right side of the center line, a
black patch, a freshly filled pothole.

The cars continue to approach.

Twenty feet from each other, ten each from the pothole--

BOOM!

The pothole explodes--

INT. TOWN CAR-CONTINUOUS

The explosion hurls chunks of asphalt into the air, the
driver brakes and swerves, but not before the windshield--
and his head-- are annihilated by flying debris.

EXT. COUNTRY ROAD-DAY-CONTINUOUS

The car flies off the road, mostly misses the ditch at the
side in favor of the tree trunk beyond. It stops hard.

On the other side of the road, a virtually identical scene,
just ditch instead of tree.

Birds chirp.

The sedan's hood steams. Two figures sit still, heads slumped
on the dashboard. The rear driver's door opens a crack, then
throws wide.

Josh falls out into the ditch, onto hands (well, hand, one
holds his ribs) and knees. Same school uniform as the kid.
He crawls away from the car, out of the ditch. Looks up-- at
the town car across the crater where the road used to be.

INT. TOWN CAR

The kid's sprawled, mostly on the floor, right leg at a wrong
angle. Headphones half off his head, face cut and already
bruising, eyes fixed on what's left of the driver, hanging
limp over the front seatback, dripping onto the kid's chest.

Footsteps on leaves. A shadow crosses in the rear window. The
kid pulls the backpack in front of him, as cover.

Dust, ash, and rubble covers the windows, so a shadow's the
only thing the kid sees approach the rear door. He fumbles
around himself and the footwell and an iPod appears in his
hand, ready to throw.

The door opens, and the kid lets fly.

JOSH:
Ow!

Not quite Josh's voice, just a bit higher, younger. The kid's
eyes go wide.

Josh leans in, similarly bruised and cut to the kid, hand
still on his ribs. In his other, the iPod.

JOSH: (CONT'D)
Yours?

The kid takes it back.

JOSH: (CONT'D)
Are you okay?

The kid winces, and nods at his leg.

KID:
My leg.

Josh looks at the leg, his head cocks to follow the angle.

JOSH:
Yikes.

KID:
You?

Josh shrugs-- winces.

JOSH:
I think my ribs.

Josh looks away from the kid, to the front seat, shape of the
driver. He stares dispassionately a bit long before he lets a
gag escape him.

JOSH: (CONT'D)
What happened?

The kid shrugs and shifts to a sort of sitting position.

KID:
Bomb, I guess?

Josh nods stiffly at the driver.

JOSH:
Your dad?

KID:
Our driver.

JOSH:
Oh. Well, sorry anyway.

Pause.

JOSH: (CONT'D)
You got a cell?

Josh reaches in his own pocket, produces a shattered phone.

The kid nods, and reaches into a pocket, twists the bad leg,
and screams in pain. Josh holds his hand up.

JOSH: (CONT'D)
Hey, I got it.

Josh reaches in and twists his arm to access the pocket
without moving the leg.

JOSH: (CONT'D)
911?

The kid's head is at an angle, eyes on the Gumby path his
leg's taken.

KID:
Yeah, That'd be good.

Then he lurches to side and hurls.

INT. NOAH'S ROOM-DAY

Noah sits, thumb over the SEND button, 911 punched in.

Then he groans and shuts it.

He goes over to a dresser, yanks open a drawer, and pulls out
a gun (the one Josh took off Harry in "All In").

NOAH:
No license for the gun, no permit
for concealed carry. Brilliant. Two
crimes and the rescue mission's not
even underway.

Noah puts it in his waistband. Sighs.

NOAH: (CONT'D)
Now, how many Gwens in Seattle?

INT. HOSPITAL WAITING ROOM-DAY-14 MONTHS AGO

The waiting room's mostly empty. A few people scattered
around, but no crowd. A DOCTOR comes through a pair of doors,
chart in hand, and scans the room.

DOCTOR:
Gwen Ross?

Gwen, look about five years younger even through a big
helping of simmering panic, sits in a front row of chairs,
her hands flick magazine pages too fast to read. Her head
snaps up at the doctor's call, she sets the magazine aside.

The doctor meets her halfway.

GWEN:
Is he-- He's okay, right? No one
was saying anything.

The doctor puts a hand on her shoulder.

DOCTOR:
He's fine. The break was clean. No
one was saying anything, because--

GWEN:
Bomb--

DOCTOR:
--Yes. Speaking of, the police want
to talk to the other boy.

Gwen frowns.

GWEN:
Other boy?

DOCTOR:
The one who called the ambulance.

The doctor glances at the chart, then at the waiting room.

DOCTOR: (CONT'D)
Uh, Andrew Porter?

Some of the heads glance up, none of them Andrew.

DOCTOR: (CONT'D)
Andrew? Andrew Porter?

There's a soft groan, and Josh's head appears. He's on the
floor, a hand clamped on his side.

The doctor and Gwen both rush to him, help him to his feet.
Josh is panting.

JOSH:
Sorry. I just needed to lay down.

DOCTOR:
Are you okay?

Josh nods.

JOSH:
Yeah, just my ribs. Do you--
(Josh takes a short
breath)
How're my parents?

The doctor stares at Josh.

DOCTOR:
Didn't anyone tell you? They're...
Well, they died. There was nothing
we could do.

Josh stares back, then straightens up and backs away from
Gwen and the doctor. He pants.

JOSH:
Dead?

The doctor nods.

DOCTOR:
Yes. I'm sorry.

JOSH:
You're sure?

The doctor shrugs and glances at the almost empty room.

DOCTOR:
We're a small hospital.

Josh turns, leans on a chair. More panting, he's very pale.

JOSH:
I... They... Can I...

Josh's breath catches, and he collapses. The doctor and Gwen
rush to him, turn him on his back. Josh's head lolls and he
stares up at the ceiling lights. His eyes slide shut.

INT. HOSPITAL ROOM-NIGHT

Josh's eyes flicker open. The town car kid in a wheelchair
next to him, right leg extended in a cast. Josh blinks, takes
a deep breath, and winces.

The kid looks up from his cellphone, where he'd been texting.

KID:
Collapsed lung. They're saying you
could've died.

Josh opens his mouth. A scratchy rasp.

The kid grabs a cup from the night stand, holds it to Josh's
mouth to sip. Josh wipes his own mouth.

JOSH:
Thanks.

KID:
No problem. My dad did nearly kill
you. Water's the least I can do.

JOSH:
Your dad?

KID:
Not personally, but a lot of people
aren't fans.

Josh tries to sit up, flops back miserably.

KID: (CONT'D)
There's a remote.

The kid nods at the mattress. Josh elevates the head of the
bed to more or less sitting.

JOSH:
Who are you?

The kid smiles, extends a hand.

KID:
Right, sorry. Aaron Ross.

Josh shakes his hand. No name hesitation.

JOSH:
Andrew Porter.

KID/AARON:
Yeah, I know. The doctors have
rounded on you a few times now. And
my mom-- I'll let her talk to you.

JOSH:
How long have I been out?

Aaron takes a second and does the math.

AARON:
Nearly four days. Bright side,
political bombings are excused
absences.

Josh frowns.

JOSH:
Sorry. Is this normal for you?

Aaron shrugs.

AARON:
Not normal, but it's happened
before. The once a month birth
control pill was the first one, but
it was an M80 and a gas can, not
exactly serious. Then emergency
contraception, that got dad laid up
for a month. When male birth
control started human trials, that
killed a decoy car. And now this,
apparently over something no one's
allowed to talk about.

JOSH:
Pharmaceuticals?

Aaron nods.

AARON:
I know, why couldn't he just have
gone into Internet porn like a good
father and simply incurred idle
death threats from those opposed to
recreational female bisexuality? If
I had a penny...

JOSH:
You'd have a penny?

AARON:
It'd be a penny with a really great
story, though. Great scenery, too.

Josh shies away from that, glances out the window.

JOSH:
Yeah. I guess so.

There's a pause, during which Josh opts to make his eyes go
kind of dark and far away. After a suitably broody interval,
he looks at Aaron.

JOSH: (CONT'D)
My parents. I guess I didn't dream
it, then?

Aaron shakes his head and doesn't look at him.

AARON:
You didn't.

Josh looks away, shiny eyed, and blinks fast. When he speaks
again, his voice is a bit hoarse.

JOSH:
I don't have any family.

AARON:
Yeah, I know. My mom's got our
lawyer on the phone. She's trying
to get you.

JOSH:
"Get me"?

Aaron shrugs.

AARON:
She's blaming herself, or Dad. One
of them. And she's got it in her
head you saved my life.

JOSH:
I only called the ambulance.

AARON:
There was a storm a few hours
later. You were in surgery. Flash
floods in that area. Way she's
seeing it, if you weren't there, I
might've drowned.

JOSH:
But I used your phone. You'd have
made the call yourself.

Aaron shrugs.

AARON:
You won't win the argument. She
thinks we owe you. And we do, just
not because you saved me. Because--

JOSH:
You sort of got my parents killed.

AARON:
Yeah.

JOSH (V.O.):
How many miscarriages?

INT. GWEN'S LIVING ROOM-DAY

Gwen gapes at Josh.

GWEN:
Excuse me?

Josh leans forward as much as the cuffs allow.

JOSH:
There are easier ways to get to
someone. So if Andrew Porter, or
whoever he works for, was trying to
get in via the adopted son route,
then there's a reason. Either you
lost a kid already, or you kept
losing them before you could name
them. I'm guessing miscarriage.

Gwen nods slowly, never taking her eyes off Josh.

GWEN:
Two. Then we had Aaron. And then
lost a third. You're clever.

Josh shakes his head.

JOSH:
Not really. It's the only thing
that makes sense. On the bright
side, you can rest assured your
husband wasn't cheating on you.

GWEN:
Can I?

Josh shrugs.

JOSH:
Pillow talk is just as reliable as
"son interested in adopted father's
work" talk, and about ten times
easier to set up. The fact that's
not how it went down says it
couldn't be done that way.

GWEN:
"Son interested in adopted father's
work" talk?

JOSH:
Of course. Pharmaceuticals, so I'm
guessing I excelled in science and
math, probably specifically
chemistry. Much to Dr. Ross'
delight, since Aaron never showed
much interest, so he wasn't about
to question it, right?

Gwen's eyes watch Josh much like a dog watches his owner work
the electric can-opener. But, you know, substitute the wonder
of "I'm about to be fed, thank you O Bipedal God!" with the
chilling certainty of "If he actually did want me dead, I
probably would be."

GWEN:
Right.

Josh realizes he's freaking her out a bit. He leans back and
loosens up. It's a hard look to swing cuffed to a chair.

JOSH:
Which is all really interesting in
a pop-psych sort of way, but the
question is, "why go to such
trouble?" What's so important you
go to this kind of trouble?

Said in that way that implies it's all the explanation
needed:

GWEN:
That's easy. Confetti.

JOSH:
Ooh.... "Confetti", what?

GWEN:
I don't know. It is actually
classified.

JOSH:
You're holding me hostage and may
or may not blow my brains out when
I run out of things to talk about,
and you're worried about corporate
security?

Gwen gaze softens properly, and you might actually believe
she were looking at a son.

GWEN:
National security, actually.
Defense Department was funding a
lot of it. I shouldn't know it
exists at all. And I'm not going to
kill you.

Josh raises his eyebrows.

JOSH:
You sure about that?

Gwen nods.

JOSH: (CONT'D)
Well, thank god.

Josh shrugs his shoulders, metal rattles, then his hands are
free and he holds the cuffs loose in front of her.

JOSH: (CONT'D)
I didn't want to freak you out or
anything. What with the ruthless
goonery you have on hand.

GWEN:
How'd you--

Josh holds up a bit of metal. Might've been a paperclip once.

JOSH:
I got tied up awhile ago, and I
figured having something like this
could be handy. Fits in my
watchband. Also, your security guy
doesn't know how to put handcuffs
on. For future reference, you want
the keyhole away from the hands.

GWEN:
You could've gotten out anytime.

Josh half-smiles.

JOSH:
I was out a minute after I was in.
But killing your guard and running
wouldn't have gotten any answers.

Gwen slides back on the couch, away from Josh.

GWEN:
Otherwise you would have?

JOSH:
I'd have probably taken his gun and
kneecapped him. I'm really not much
of a killer.

Yeah, apart from the two guys you tried to blow up. Awkward.

....

JOSH: (CONT'D)
But anyway. "Confetti".

Gwen shrugs.

GWEN:
That is exactly everything I know.
DARPA funding and its codename,
which is completely random.

Josh sighs.

JOSH:
Big help.

GWEN:
If it were easy to find out about,
I imagine they wouldn't go to the
trouble of planting a teenage spy
to do it.

JOSH:
Touché. But really, nothing?

Gwen waves her hand.

GWEN:
I'm pretty certain it was to do
with the brain. So, anything from
schizophrenia to social phobias to
Parkinson's or Alzheimer's or
Huntington's. Virtually anything.

Josh nods and looks down at his hands-- Which aren't his
anymore, since he definitely wasn't wearing latex gloves a
minute ago.
INT. GWEN'S APARTMENT-HOSPITAL ROOM-DAY (VISION)

Whoever has the POV on the latex gloves looks up. At the two
beds with Aaron and Dr. Ross. The room is spotless, the
sheets neat as they can only be when freshly made and/or
covering vegetables.

A large window next to Aaron has its blinds open. The Latex
Man walks over, and closes the blinds on a pair of WINDOW
WASHERS.

He turns, draws a gun in the same motion. He aims at Aaron.

INT. GWEN'S LIVING ROOM-DAY

Josh stares at his hands, which are now shaking. He closes
his eyes and frowns hard. Nothing.

JOSH:
(whisper)
Damn.

Josh looks up at Gwen and gives an awkward smile.

JOSH: (CONT'D)
Um, could you-- Could I use your
bathroom?

Gwen nods, and points at a hallway.

GWEN:
It's right down there, second on
the right.

Josh gets up to go, stops and turns back.

JOSH:
Do you want Curtis to escort me?

Gwen shakes her head.

GWEN:
It's fine. There're cameras
everywhere.

JOSH:
Everywhere?

Gwen gives a cold half-smile.

GWEN:
Yes. It's amazing the paranoia an
impostor son/bomber can instill.

Josh nods.

JOSH:
Right. So I'll just....

Gwen waves a hand.

GWEN:
I don't need the details.

JOSH:
Right. Okay, then.

Josh turns and heads for the hallway.

INT. PI'S OFFICE-DAY

And not a good one. Shabby, dusty, wild stacks of papers and
boxes fill nearly every space. Noah sits on a small chair and
looks across a desk at a PI, a bad 50, overweight and worn,
dressed in a suit that was fashionable when thinking Britney
Spears was a virgin seemed like a good bet.

Noah lays a healthy stack of 100's on the desk. They promptly
vanish behind stubby-fingered hands.

PI:
What can I do for you, sir?

Noah places a piece of paper on the desk.

NOAH:
I need to know the names of
everyone who's lived at that
address in the past two years,
emphasis on anyone named Gwen. Then
I want you to take the Gwen you
find, and get me all her current
addresses.

PI:
That's all?

Noah shakes his head.

NOAH:
No. Then I want you to forget this
entire day ever happened.

The PI eyes Noah then leans bag, gives a smug grin and
reveals spinach-teeth.

PI:
Amnesia's more than you're paying.

Noah looks around the office. At the PI. At the door. There's
no time for this.

He sighs, takes a deep breath, and turns to the PI.

NOAH:
No it's not. Three thousand is more
than you'll make in a month, maybe
two. You'll take it and you'll stay
quiet, because that's the kind of
guy you are. You don't do good
business, you do whatever you can
get. You've got it in your hands,
and it's generous. So go. Do.

The PI's grin drops. Noah makes eye contact and keeps it.
Barely.

The PI looks away.

PI:
Who're you?

Noah gives a weak smile.

NOAH:
There's someone here?

INT. GWEN'S APARTMENT-HALLWAY-DAY

Josh enters the hallway, but he doesn't make for the second
on the right. He checks every doorway.

The first on the right is a den/library, first on the left a
TV room. Josh glances at the bathroom on the right, then
moves to the second on the left. The hospital room.

He stands in the doorway, looks in on Dr. Ross and Aaron.
Josh scans the room, bends a bit to peer under the bed. No
one else.

The window. A rope dangles from the scaffold. Not yet.

Josh turns, goes into--

INT. GWEN'S APARTMENT-BATHROOM-CONTINUOUS

And shuts the door. It's an upscale number, lots of marble,
fancy faucets, huge tub, etc. Josh stares into the mirror.

JOSH:
Okay, so let's just assume you're
not insane and about to snap and
that they're not recording for
sound.

Josh pauses and looks up like he expects God or Al the
security guy to correct him. Nothing.

JOSH: (CONT'D)
So you've got maybe ten minutes to
figure out who else is about to
kill them. Easy, right?

WHAM! The bathroom door slams open, cracks Josh in the head
and back a step. Curtis comes through, and tackles Josh into
the tub.

The door to the head doesn't slow Josh. He rolls with Curtis
and yanks him, kicks/throws him into the bathroom wall, some
kind of stone, which cracks.

Curtis slides down on top of Josh, out cold. Josh wiggles out
and climbs from the tub. He stares down at the guy.

JOSH: (CONT'D)
Oh, no, too easy.

A gun cocks from by the door. Gwen, with a revolver. Josh
sighs, raises his hands, and puts them behind his head.

JOSH: (CONT'D)
Yep. Too easy.



END OF ACT ONE
ACT TWO

INT. ARMY SURPLUS-DAY

Noah enters, head swinging wildly, as though looking for the
ATF agents just waiting to burst from the shadows and nab
him. Nothing happens.

Noah approaches the counter, the same hyper-aged affront to
the service, OLHAM, behind the counter, still trying to pull
off the M*A*S*H*-casual look, still managing only to
encourage the death penalty for improper wear.

He grins at Noah, remembering his suckers.

OLHAM:
How can I help you... Sir?

Noah reaches behind for the gun, and is staring down Olham's
before he knows it.

NOAH:
Whoa. Hey man, just trying to make
a trade. Okay?

Olham relaxes a bit, but the gun stays on Noah, Olham's
attention divided between him and the door.

Noah lays Harry's gun on the counter.

NOAH: (CONT'D)
I'm looking for something a bit
more my speed.

Olham smirks.

OLHAM:
Don't got Nerf or paintball.

Noah shakes his head, the motion looking like it might knock
him out.

NOAH:
Not quite what I had in mind.

INT. GWEN'S LIVING ROOM-DAY

Josh is back in the chair, and he struggles against the
cuffs. The keyholes are away from his palms.

Gwen sits glaring at him. Curtis has the revolver in one
hand, on Josh, and a pack of ice in the other, on his head.

Josh ignores Curtis and focuses on Gwen.

JOSH:
I don't suppose telling you I saw
him kill your son in a psychic
vision will fly?

Gwen doesn't respond.

JOSH: (CONT'D)
Didn't think so. Okay, then. So,
while you're getting up the nerve
to order my death, any chance you
could tell me a few things about
the Andy Porter period of my life?

Gwen makes a disgusted face.

GWEN:
You know what happened. You do
remember.

JOSH:
I don't, but you're not going to
believe me for... Like, another ten
minutes, so if you could, tell me
who Andrew's "parents" were.

Gwen shrugs.

GWEN:
Somebody you killed, nearest
Curtis' people could guess. After
the bombing, we exhumed them, went
over them extensively. The injuries
matched a car crash, but not the
car you were in. More an SUV.

JOSH:
So I crashed another car to kill
two people, or bought two dead
bodies?

Curtis speaks up.

CURTIS:
Yes.

JOSH:
I make it a rule not to speak to
guys framing me for murder. Sorry.
(to Gwen)
Tell me about the boat trip.

It's a very good thing Gwen doesn't have the gun.

GWEN:
You. Already. Know.

JOSH:
Then yell at me. I tried to blow up
your husband and son. Rant, rave,
ask questions, answer them,
whatever. Just tell me about it. I
need to know.

CURTIS:
Mrs. Ross, we should just kill him
now. We don't know who he might be
working with--

GWEN:
Not yet.

CURTIS:
It doesn't need to be here. We can
take him away--

Gwen raises a hand.

GWEN:
Not. Yet.

Curtis falls silent. But his attention's no longer entirely
on Josh.

Gwen leans forward.

GWEN: (CONT'D)
You want to know, I'll tell you.

JOSH:
Fantastic. It might very well save
our lives.

EXT. DOCK/GWEN-DAY (THREE MONTHS AGO)

The dock is a dock. They're inherently boring, and next to
the massive sparkling specimen of seagoing excess docked
there, Gwen scrawled on her side, it might as well be
invisible.

But that's where Aaron's making out with a CUTE GIRL who
must've robbed Sailor Moon blind.

And where Josh, on the other hand, sits on a pile of crates
with his head in a book.

A few CREWMEN load the crates. DR. ROSS, whole and healthy,
paces toward them. He claps his hands.

DR. ROSS
Come on boys, help out. Sooner we
get loaded up, the sooner we're
off. Come on.

Aaron responds with a dismissive hand wave and mumble. Josh
immediately folds a page, puts the book in a pocket. Then he
hefts two crates with no apparent effort when the crewmen are
puffing with one each.

DR. ROSS (CONT'D)
Andrew, you're gonna break your
back doing that. One at a time.

Josh as Andrew is quieter. He just sort of mumbles, doesn't
really look at anybody.

JOSH:
I've got it.

And he carries it aboard.

INT. GWEN-JOSH'S ROOM-DAY

Josh opens the door but stops short as he stumbles on Gwen,
unpacking a suitcase and filling the dresser. She looks up
and smiles at him.

GWEN:
Sorry. Just getting you squared
away. I'll get Aaron next.

Josh glances back and sort of blushes.

JOSH:
You might want to knock really loud
before you go in.

Gwen rolls her eyes.

GWEN:
Bad idea, letting him bring a girl
along.

JOSH:
Why'd you let him?

Gwen shrugs.

GWEN:
Because he'd probably have just
ignored us. Or gone off with her
and done something stupid. This
way, we get some control.

JOSH:
So you're not a Republican, then?

Gwen laughs.

GWEN:
I guess not.

Gwen puts away the last of the clothes and stands up.

GWEN: (CONT'D)
Okay, you're all set.

Gwen heads for the door, and Josh moves out of her way, but
she stops him and hugs him. Josh looks a bit embarrassed by
it. Or guilty. Perspective, I guess.

JOSH:
What was that for?

GWEN:
I need a reason?

JOSH:
No.

GWEN:
And it's coming up on a year
since.... You know.

Josh looks away.

JOSH:
Yeah.

GWEN:
You okay?

Josh shrugs.

JOSH:
I will be. I think. You guys have
helped a lot. I'm not sure where
I'd be otherwise.

Gwen nods.

GWEN:
I'm not sure where we'd be without
you. Maybe out a son.

Josh seems to come out of the "Andrew Porter, sensitive
science geek" cover. Very serious and clear. Almost forceful.

JOSH:
Aaron was never in any danger.

Gwen shrugs.

GWEN:
Maybe, maybe not. But you helped
him. And then you needed help, and
it was our fault you needed it.

JOSH:
You can't blame yourselves for what
lunatics do.

GWEN:
Even so.

A lull. Moment of silence for Andrew's "parents". Whatever.
Gwen perks up.

GWEN: (CONT'D)
Okay. Well, if you need anything,
I'm a phone call away.

Josh nods.

JOSH:
I know. Tell your mom hi. Hope she
feels better.

Gwen nods.

GWEN:
You'll need to meet her soon. I
think you'll like her.

Josh nods, again not making eye contact.

JOSH:
Absolutely.

Gwen starts to close the door, and Josh takes his book out.
Gwen stops and snatches it away.

GWEN:
Nope. You're getting sun this week.
And watch a movie or something. Be
bad. Steal the boat. End Aaron's
monopoly.

Josh laughs.

JOSH:
Okay, I'll try.

INT. GWEN'S LIVING ROOM-DAY

JOSH:
You're totally making that last
part up.

Josh sounds a bit amused. Gwen doesn't.

GWEN:
I'm not.

Josh looks down.

JOSH:
That's not what I need to know.

GWEN:
I really don't care what you need.

JOSH:
You didn't go along? No phone
calls? Nothing else between that
and the...

Josh makes a tiny explosion sound.

GWEN:
Nothing. You blew up the ship that
night. Didn't actually get word
until a couple days later.

JOSH:
So how d'you know it was me? Why
not another of the crew? Aaron's
girl? Flipper? Jaws?

Gwen shrugs.

GWEN:
We did investigate. We recovered
all the crew. Cleared them all,
dead and alive.

JOSH:
Aaron's girl?

GWEN:
Dead. And clean. You were the only
one missing, and--

Josh leans forward.

JOSH:
And...?

GWEN:
Aaron hasn't been in a coma the
whole time. He was awake a few
hours after. And he says you were
gone. He went for food, passed your
room, you weren't there.

Josh nods in understanding and finishes for her.

JOSH:
And then boom, and then you looked
closer, and then Andrew Porter
wasn't nearly as tight an identity
as it had seemed. Case closed.

GWEN:
Yes.

Josh leans forward. He talks fast.

JOSH:
And that made sense a little while
ago. But now I know your head of
security's trying to kill me and
make it look okay. Which means I'm
a problem for him and, sure, he
could just be really loyal and
looking to remove me before I
become the threat to you he
pretends to think I am.

Josh glances at Curtis. Right down the barrel of the gun.

JOSH: (CONT'D)
But that doesn't explain how he
knows what I can do. You see, I
"saw" somebody with a gun and latex
gloves in the hospital room. And
now I know that it was Curtis.
But he's security, which means he
shoots as his job, which means
GSR's not incriminating for him,
which means he doesn't need any
gloves. And the gun wasn't
silenced, which means you'd hear it
before he could cover anything up.

Josh grins at Curtis and the revolver.

JOSH: (CONT'D)
And that means that Curtis didn't
intend to kill Aaron and Dr. Ross
with the gun. But he needed to make
me think he was going to, so I'd
act suspiciously and give him an
excuse. Which he got.

Curtis glares at Josh and firms up his aim on him. Gwen looks
between them. Curtis glances at her.

CURTIS:
Don't listen to him. He's smart,
and he knows your buttons.

Josh scoffs.

JOSH:
Yeah, probably. But you've already
done one hell of a job at that.
She's in your pocket, there's not
much I can do to make her believe
me. Well, unless--
(to Gwen)
Hey, you happen to have any photos
of the boat? Post-bombing?

Gwen stares a second, but pulls the laptop towards her,
clicks a few times, then turns it. Josh stares at it, a smile
creeping onto his face.

On the monitor: It's definitely a bombed yacht. Insofar as
"bomb" means "explosion". Because what it's actually got is a
big hole in its side, and all the damage is centered around
that big hole. It screams "missile".

Josh flat-out grins.

JOSH: (CONT'D)
Oh, now that is fantastic.

Josh looks at Gwen.

JOSH: (CONT'D)
Okay, so here's the thing. I didn't
bomb your yacht. That is a missile.
Which means it came from somewhere
else.

Gwen shrugs.

GWEN:
So you called somebody in to fire
at it so that you could use just
this excuse.

JOSH:
Yeah, you got me there. It's pretty
smart. But it's also way too fancy.
I was on-board, I was part of the
family. I could go anywhere, yeah?

...

GWEN:
Yeah.

JOSH:
So the smart thing to mess with is
the fuel tanks. Better shot at
sinking the boat and killing all
the witnesses, except for my
miraculous survival. And it could
look like a perfect accident. Not
perfect, but-- you get the idea.
You get way fewer questions. But,
more importantly, that is a
missile. But you thought I
personally bombed you, which means
someone's either a very big idiot,
or a very big liar, because they
told you bombed. And I'm betting
that someone is....

Josh trails off, and his gaze slides over to Curtis, who
doesn't move an inch.

Josh pauses some more. Then he rolls his head and groans.

JOSH: (CONT'D)
Come on! You're making this harder
than it needs to be.
Now, if you could just realize all
is lost and point the gun at Gwen,
revealing your true allegiance and
confirming my story, we could move
along and I could kick your ass.

Curtis doesn't grin, but his eyes show he wants to.

CURTIS:
Sorry. But that's a really great
story. You should've gone into
movies instead of assassinations.

Josh glares and sighs. He looks at Gwen very steadily.

JOSH:
If you could just stay very still.

Gwen stares at Josh. It doesn't give away much. Maybe her
eyes are a bit on the soft side, but then, maybe she's about
to order him shot dead. Either way, she stays still.

JOSH: (CONT'D)
Thanks. And I'm sorry about the
chair.

Curtis frowns, and he's just not that quick.

Josh launches himself to his feet, crosses to Curtis, and
spins the entire chair into the man's head and chest.

The chair shatters, Curtis collapses to the floor, and the
revolver spins away.

Josh shakes his hands, the slats of the chair hit the ground,
and then Josh hops over the cuffs, brings his hands in front.
Then he looks for the gun.

And freezes.

Gwen's got it, and it's aimed right at Josh's head.

JOSH: (CONT'D)
Oh, man, this is getting old.

Gwen half-smiles, though her trembling lip and hands totally
ruin the coolness of the look.

GWEN:
If you could just stay very still.

JOSH:
Right, okay, don't set people up
for quips when they want to kill
you. Lesson learned.



END OF ACT TWO
ACT THREE

INT. GWEN'S LIVING ROOM-AFTERNOON

Josh has his hands up in front of him.

JOSH:
Don't shoot. We can solve this
easily. I saw Curtis with a gun and
latex gloves. The gun was to spur
me into action, so I'd look bad.
But he was going to kill them.
Just, not with the gun.

Gwen is backed up, legs pressed against the couch. She's got
two hands on the gun and it's barely still enough to be
threatening. She glances between Curtis on the floor and Josh
in front of him.

GWEN:
With what?

Josh shrugs.

JOSH:
Not sure. Some drug. Potassium
chloride's a solid go-to. But he'll
have it on him. Even if you have
the right stuff here, why risk
noticing it went missing? Check his
pockets.

Gwen starts towards Curtis, but stops. She backs up, gun on
Josh. She gestures at Curtis with it.

GWEN:
You check.

Josh nods and goes slowly. He kneels, opens Curtis' jacket,
and reaches into a pocket.

Then he comes out with two syringes.

Gwen gasps, the gun wavers and drops to her side, and she
collapses onto the couch.

Josh stands up, pockets the syringes. He goes to the couch,
sits down next to Gwen (non-gun side).

Gwen stares out into the space somewhere just past and above
Curtis. Josh watches her.

GWEN: (CONT'D)
So... You weren't a spy.

Josh shrugs an eyebrow.

JOSH:
I don't know. Might've been. But it
doesn't look like I tried to kill
you. Did a good job of it by just
being around, though.

Gwen looks at Curtis.

GWEN:
It's not your fault.

Josh shakes his head.

JOSH:
Of course it is. Or Andrew's,
anyway. Whoever I was. This guy
knows me. If he cared about you
guys, you'd have been dead weeks
ago. He and whoever he works for
were waiting for me to turn up.

.... Josh takes a deep breath and his eyes brighten.

JOSH: (CONT'D)
Which means it's about to hit the
fan.

Josh stands up, and faces Gwen, who looks up.

JOSH: (CONT'D)
I'm gonna need the gun.

Gwen doesn't really react, she just hands it over.

Josh glances around the room. But it's sterile. There's not
much to use.

JOSH: (CONT'D)
And we need you in a safe room.

Gwen shakes her head, and her gaze comes back to now.

GWEN:
The hospital room.

Josh shakes his head.

JOSH:
No, I'm gonna need that. How about--

Josh breaks off, and looks out the window--

EXT. ROOFTOP-SAME (VISION)

And down the scope of a sniper rifle on Gwen's living room
window, the crosshairs on her head (which would also put the
bullet into Josh's gut if it went through, which it would).

INT. GWEN'S LIVING ROOM-SAME

Josh crouches, grabs Gwen, and shoves/throws her to the side,
diving with her at the same time the window shatters.

Josh rolls off her and freezes. His shirt is covered in
blood. He pats himself down, but no such luck. It's Gwen.

Not a head wound, but not much better. The right side of her
throat's a mess, and the flow is already slowing to a
trickle. Josh grabs a pillow from the couch and presses it to
the wound.

JOSH:
Oh, no no no.

Somewhere, something pounds on a door. But Josh is staring at
Gwen. She's barely there, though. Her eyes are shut, and her
mouth makes noiseless little motions.

And then she's still.

Josh stares a second, and then his eyes are wet and he's
sobbing into the pillow.

And somewhere, the pounding becomes a massive crash.

Josh snaps up, gun in hand.

Four MERCENARIES in SWAT-ish dress enter from another
hallway, guns at the ready.

There's a pause, Josh with the revolver aimed at the guys,
the guys with their way better guns aimed at Josh.

And then, Josh fires.

And then... Things go to BLACK. There's a good dozen
gunshots, a couple of yells. And then a whole lot of nothing.

Just BLACK.

EXT. GWEN'S APARTMENT BUILDING-AFTERNOON

Noah comes sprinting up on a bike, painted ugly colors, a fat
messenger bag slung across him, helmet on his head,
sunglasses on his face, gloves on his hands.
None of it fits him, he looks ridiculous. But he's also less
describable than the Unabomber.

Noah hops off in front of the building, under an awning and
in front of a DOORMAN.

Noah opens his mouth to speak, clearly nervous and about to
flub whatever magnificent lie he has assembled. Luckily--

BANG!BANG!BANGBANGBANGBLAMBLAM-- you get the idea.

Noah blinks. The Doorman looks from Noah to the door. Back.
Again. Up.

Noah catches up first, goes into the messenger bag, pulls a
stungun, and rams it into the Doorman's neck. He drops to the
ground, convulsing.

Noah stumbles over him, glances back, and runs inside.

INT. GWEN'S LIVING ROOM-AFTERNOON

Josh stands there, blank faced, revolver in one limp hand,
eyes fixed on Gwen's body.

Off to the side near the front door, the guards are on the
ground. Maybe alive. Big maybe judging from the blood.

An elevator dings. Josh blinks. Footsteps running. Debris
rattles as someone passes by the remnants of the front door.

Josh snaps the revolver up, without looking.

Noah stops dead, going dead pale as he takes in the scene.

NOAH:
Whoa.

Josh looks at Noah, blank. Lowers the gun. Fumbles it open,
drops the last round to the floor. Closes it, wipes it down.
Drops it, kicks it in Curtis' direction.

Noah takes off the sunglasses, hooks them on his collar.

NOAH: (CONT'D)
Josh, man, what... Jesus.

Josh steps towards Curtis and the remains of the chair. He
takes of Curtis' tie. Wipes with it at anything he touched.

JOSH:
Noah, grab that computer there.
Avoid the blood.
Don't touch anything. If you do,
wipe it clean. And whatever you do,
do. Not. Puke.

He rips the tie in half, holds a piece out to Noah.

JOSH: (CONT'D)
Here.

Noah holds up his hands.

NOAH:
I've got gloves, Josh.

Josh wipes with both hands now.

Noah closes the laptop, stows it in the messenger bag.

And then the power cuts out. There's still light, but the
absence of the indoor ones is noticeable.

Josh stops wiping. He stares at the floor for a long second.

JOSH:
Worse and worse and worse.

Josh gets up, ignores Noah, and heads for the converted
hospital room. Noah follows.

INT. GWEN'S APARTMENT-HOSPITAL ROOM-CONTINUOUS

Josh stops just inside, Noah forced to slip past him to get
inside. Josh stares.

JOSH:
Son of a...

Josh approaches Dr. Ross' bed. Vent's off. The monitor's are
still on, though, declaring the man's death steadily.

JOSH: (CONT'D)
He disconnected the damn battery.

Noah couldn't get more lost.

NOAH:
Who did? Josh? What the hell is
going on?

Josh doesn't look away from Dr. Ross.

JOSH:
Things are going to hell. Fast. We
need to get out of here. Faster.
And we can't go through the lobby.
Or the stairs. Hell, the roof's
probably even covered.

Noah stares out the window. At the window washing scaffold.
And the 2 window washers, who are looking pretty freaked out.

He sighs.

NOAH:
Crap. Okay. Well, as the great
Native American leader Geronimo
said at Medicine Bluff: "Eponymy!"

Josh frowns, finally seeming to come back to earth.

JOSH:
What?

Noah points at the scaffold.

NOAH:
We're going out the window.

JOSH:
Oh.

Noah nods at the glass.

NOAH:
If you could?

Josh stares between Noah and the glass a second.

JOSH:
Oh.

EXT. GWEN'S APARTMENT BUILDING-AFTERNOON

A pillow case packed with guns slams to the sidewalk.

INT. GWEN'S APARTMENT-HOSPITAL ROOM-AFTERNOON

Josh helps Noah through the window and onto the scaffold. The
window washers help Noah get out of his own way.

JOSH:
(to the washers)
What kind of weight limits does
this thing have?

Window Washer 1 shrugs:

WINDOW WASHER 1:
Maybe a thousand?

Josh nods, turns to Aaron's bed, hefts him and hands him
outside to Noah and the washers.

JOSH:
Careful as you can be.

Aaron's laid down and a washer kneels to keep him in place.

Josh starts out the window, then freezes. Clicks his tongue.

JOSH: (CONT'D)
Haley! Come on, girl!

HALEY THE YELLOW LAB bounds into the room and to Josh. Josh
picks her up and puts her on the scaffold, then follows her.

Josh takes the place of the washer holding Aaron. Haley
cowers down at Aaron's head and whimpers.

Noah says:

NOAH:
Anything else? The Tin Man? Seven
dwarves? A car?

Josh looks back into the room, at the dead Dr. Ross. Then he
looks down at Aaron and Haley.

JOSH:
This is everything we can save.
(to the washers)
Quick as you can.

The washers do their thing, and the scaffold starts to lower.



END OF ACT THREE
ACT FOUR

MONTAGE

1. Noah; Haley on the front passenger seat, Josh in back
hanging onto Aaron; guides a car down an overgrown dirt road,
past a sign warning against illegal border crossings

2. Josh strolls up to an emergency room entrance, grabs a
stray wheelchair, and wheels it away.

3. Noah and Josh load Aaron into the chair.

4. A nurse steps outside, starts to light a cigarette, but
notices Aaron slumped in the wheelchair just out of the way.
She drops the lighter and cigarette and rushes to him.

EXT. HIGHWAY-NIGHT

The car speeds down an empty road, high beams on.

INT. NOAH'S CAR-SAME

The only sound inside the car is the muffled sounds of engine
and wind. Noah's alone in the front seat.

Josh sits slumped against the rear passenger door, Haley
lying on the seat with him, head in his lap. Josh pats it.

Noah glances back.

NOAH:
Josh?

Josh doesn't move.

NOAH: (CONT'D)
Josh?

He looks up.

JOSH:
Yeah?

NOAH:
Why Canada? There are dozens of
hospitals before Canada, and a
bunch before Vancouver, too.

Josh shrugs.

JOSH:
Distance. Whoever these guys are,
they've got access and they're
looking to stop anyone who knows
me. Or Andrew. Or whoever. Sticking
their target in another country and
without a name's the best we can
manage in four hours.

NOAH:
I thought the woman was the one who
was after you.

Josh scratches Haley's ear.

JOSH:
She was. But now it looks like
there's someone else. And they have
balls. Sniping in broad daylight,
attacking an apartment, cutting the
power. They probably posed as
police, too.

Josh sighs.

JOSH: (CONT'D)
This whole thing just cubed itself.

INT. GWEN'S LIVING ROOM-NIGHT

A dozen people mill around. Half are dressed as CSIs, the
other half are evenly split between FBI windbreakers (NOT-A
FEDS) and men with shields (UN-COPS) clipped to their belts.

Only thing is, the CSIs ignore the blood pools and
unceremoniously load Gwen into a bodybag, then lift her onto
a stretcher, one of three set out of the way.

Another CSI fills a cardboard box with the pieces of chair.

Curtis sits on the couch, watching the scene through a
swollen half of head.

A cell phone rings. Not-A-Fed 1 pulls his phone out.

NOT-A-FED 1:
Hello?

He stiffens a bit, listens.

NOT-A-FED 1: (CONT'D)
Yes, sir. Right now.

He closes the phone addresses the room.

NOT-A-FED 1: (CONT'D)
Everyone clear out. Ten minutes.

The room empties fast, the CSI with the box grabs a last
chair leg and rushes towards the door, collides with--

A man, average height but with the fuck-off vibe of someone
6'7''. Casual dress, bland features apart from blank, hard
eyes. Between a bad 40 and a Connery-esque 60. The BOSS.

The CSI drops the box, glances once at the Boss. Leaves it.

Not-A-Fed 1 slips to the back of the room as the Boss
approaches Curtis. Curtis sits bolt upright, eyes staring
straight ahead into the Boss' stomach

The Boss glances at the shattered window, the pool of blood
where Gwen had been. He pinches the bridge of his nose,
closes his eyes.

THE BOSS:
Exactly how incompetent are you?

Curtis opens his mouth, looks past the Boss to Not-A-Fed 1,
who becomes interested in something on his windbreaker.

CURTIS:
He was sevente--

THE BOSS:
That is irrelevant. And it doesn't
excuse your action movie approach.
There's a reason you couldn't have
just shot them all?

Curtis stammers.

CURTIS:
I--

THE BOSS:
I didn't think so. So we're burning
the GDP of a small country because
you can't pull a trigger?

CURTIS:
I wanted to see what he knew.

The Boss glares, and yells.

THE BOSS:
It doesn't matter! He could
actually remember nothing, he could
be a damn vegetable, and I'd still
tell you to kill him. Was your
mother a cat?

Curtis frowns.

CURTIS:
Cat? What?

THE BOSS:
Curiosity, Curtis. Curiosity.

Curtis stares, and goes pale.

CURTIS:
Sir, I'm so sor--

The Boss holds up a hand.

THE BOSS:
Shut up. If I'm going to kill you,
you're not going to change my mind.

Curtis' mouth pops shut.

THE BOSS: (CONT'D)
But I'm not. Keeping these people
alive was your plan. You managed to
draw him out. You to completely
screw it up, too, but you still got
him to come out. And...

The Boss smiles.

THE BOSS: (CONT'D)
You know what he can do now. And
there aren't a lot of people who
can say that. This is your second
chance.

Curtis starts to thank him.

THE BOSS: (CONT'D)
Do--

He gestures at the room--

THE BOSS: (CONT'D)
This again, and I will kill you
myself. We understand each other?

Curtis nods stiffly.

THE BOSS: (CONT'D)
You got his present name?

Curtis freezes, glances around the room.

CURTIS:
It's... Fuzzy. A J. John? James,
Josh, Jake? Heavy chair. She had it
on the computer.

THE BOSS:
The one that's not here anymore
because you got your ass kicked and
let him get away?

Curtis looks down.

CURTIS:
Yes.

THE BOSS:
Brilliant. You can draw him out
again?

Curtis nods.

CURTIS:
We will find the Ross boy. And then
Porter will find us.

THE BOSS:
Good. Get this mess mopped up,
dispose of the bodies. I want a
full report first thing in the
morning. How many did we lose?

Curtis nods at the stretchers.

CURTIS:
Just one. It looks like he was
shooting to wound. Knees, hands,
feet. Went too high with Kistler,
tore apart his femoral artery.
Mostly of his blood over there.

The Boss stares at the pool of blood, head cocked a bit.

THE BOSS:
To wound?

Curtis nods.

CURTIS:
Had to be. He could've finished us
if he wanted. Doesn't seem like he
wanted to.

The Boss takes another look around the room, frowns.

THE BOSS:
Huh.

EXT. JOSH'S HOUSE-NIGHT

Josh leans against the car, Haley leans against him. He
stares at the house, dark except for a blue flicker on the
first floor.

Noah gets out of the car, comes round to Josh and stretches.

There's a quiet couple of seconds.

NOAH:
This is bad, isn't it?

Josh shrugs.

JOSH:
Well, I'm probably grounded. That
sucks. But hey, new dog.

Noah frowns.

NOAH:
Josh, seriously.

Josh sighs, looks up at the sky.

JOSH:
I don't know if it's bad. It's big.
Huge, really. Top-secret drugs?
Missile attacks? Snipers? The kind
of money that kept the whole thing
off the radio? It's huge.

NOAH:
Right. Thus, bad.

Josh shakes his head.

JOSH:
Not necessarily. They were watching
the Rosses, No.
If they knew exactly who they
wanted, it'd be my mom and Dan that
were dead, not Gwen and-- and...
Dr. Ross.

NOAH:
Probably me, too.

Josh waves a hand in confirmation.

JOSH:
If you make a habit out of ignoring
"call the cops" and attempting
rescues, yeah, probably.

Noah steams.

NOAH:
Hey, I was--

Josh waves him off.

JOSH:
It's fine. Telling you to go to
Keene cops for a Seattle problem
that didn't exist except to us was
stupid. I was just making you feel
useful and keeping you out of it.

NOAH:
Thanks?

JOSH:
No. If you'd listened to me, I'd
probably still be mindlessly
scrubbing at a chair. Or dead. So
thanks. You leave a trail?

Noah shakes his head.

NOAH:
Bought the bike and gear off a
messenger for cash, used a weasel
of a PI to get the address, gagged
him with money. Then I called a
realtor to look into the building
and similar apartments, so if it
does come back, it looks like I'm
looking for an apartment when
college rolls around or something.

JOSH:
You couldn't keep up that excuse if
you got tortured.

Noah looks a bit sick, then he nods.

NOAH:
I'm counting on you to make sure
that doesn't happen.

Josh smiles.

JOSH:
Over my dead body's the only way it
would happen.

NOAH:
Yeah, no. Make sure you walk away
from the white light, hit the
Purgatory Gun Emporium, and come to
wreak posthumous vengeance on them.

Josh laughs.

JOSH:
Done.

...

NOAH:
But you told them your name?

Josh jerks his head in a nod.

JOSH:
Yeah. But then I threw their man
against a very hard wall and bashed
him in the head with a chair.
Assuming he's not like me, he's not
going to have a lot to go on.

Another awkward second.

JOSH: (CONT'D)
I really don't want to go inside.

NOAH:
Why not?

JOSH:
I've been missing for two days.
Normal moms, maybe they're willing
to let that go. Mine? I have a
record of vanishing for a decade at
a time. I'm 15 minutes late it
becomes a national disaster.

Noah shrugs.

NOAH:
But hey, new dog.

INT. JOSH'S HOUSE-FRONT DOOR-NIGHT

Josh eases the door open. Haley slips in first, nails click
on hardwood. Josh winces a bit. He slides in after, eases the
door shut.

Turns around, comes face-to-face with DAN KENDALL. Dressed in
sleepwear. He wears glasses.

Josh opens his mouth, Dan puts a finger to his. Beckons Josh
to follow, heads into the living room.

INT. JOSH'S HOUSE-DAN'S OFFICE-NIGHT

Dan enters the room, flicks a switch, lights come on. It's an
office. Bookshelves crammed mostly with legal texts, some
other stuff sprinkled in. A big desk awash in papers.
Computer. Phone.

Dan sits behind the desk, neutral expression, eyes on Josh.
Josh stands in front. No chair.

DAN:
Claire said you took off to look
into something to do with your
disappearance.

Josh opens his mouth.

DAN: (CONT'D)
She didn't volunteer it. But it's
true? That's where you've been?

Josh stares at Dan, mouth half open.

JOSH:
Uh. Yeah.

DAN:
Did you find anything out?

Josh shrugs.

JOSH:
Not really. Found somewhere I've
been, but there's nothing there. No
one knew anything.

Dan nods, stands up, circles the desk and leans against it.

DAN:
Is there a reason you didn't just
tell the police? Or me? Your mom?

Josh shrugs.

JOSH:
It is-- It is very personal.

Dan sighs, lifts his glasses and rubs his eyes.

DAN:
What you're doing is stupid and
reckless. If you don't know where
you were, you don't know what
you're stepping in.

Josh rolls his eyes.

JOSH:
I know. But I can take care of
myself, Dan.

Dan nods.

DAN:
Yeah, so I've found out. Name Tom
Hackett mean anything to you?

Josh's eyes snap back from the bookshelves to Dan.

JOSH:
You got the case?

DAN:
I got the case. Care to elaborate
on how you got it?

Josh breaks eye contact, shrugs.

JOSH:
Haven't been sleeping well. I went
out for a walk. Saw him fighting a
guy. Thought he was getting mugged
at first, but then I realized it
was the other way around.

DAN:
How?

Josh's eyes widen.

JOSH:
Um. The gun. It wasn't any good,
but it was really clean. The other
guy were the mugger, no way the gun
would be so well cared for. But it
wasn't loaded. That was weird.

DAN:
Not so much. Turns out he had
Alzheimer's. Pretty early. Forgot
he loaded it, it seems.

JOSH:
Too bad he couldn't have forgotten
the serial cannibal part.

Dan nods.

DAN:
Yeah.

...

DAN: (CONT'D)
I covered for you. Past two days,
you were at Noah's working on a
science project. Your mom wasn't
happy about not getting consulted,
but that's my battle, not yours.
You're safe there.

Josh heaves a big sigh.

JOSH:
Thank you.

DAN:
But--

JOSH:
I figured.

DAN:
--You're staying in weeknights for
the next two weeks. Quality time.
I'll make sure to work late, give
you and your mom time together. I
get this whole thing isn't easy,
but you've been ignoring her. Stop.

Dan stares at Josh, and it's Josh that looks away first.

JOSH:
I know. It's just... It feels weird
sometimes. She's Mom, but she's not
the same Mom.

DAN:
It's not going to get any better
avoiding getting to know this one.
Ten years is a lot of catch up.
Trust me, she's still pretty great.

Josh nods, looks down at the floor a bit. Haley pushes her
head under his hand.

...

DAN: (CONT'D)
Josh?

Josh looks up.

DAN: (CONT'D)
What's with the dog?



END OF SHOW