"WAR ZONE"

ACT ONE

FADE IN

EXT. BEVERLY HILLS - NIGHT

A taxi cab cutting through the dark, lonely streets until
it pulls to a stop outside one of the statelier mansions.

INT. TAXI

The Cabbie shuts off the meter and abruptly wheels to the
young woman in the backseat, DENISE, who's already half out
the door.

CABBIE
Whoa...that'll be eighteen
bucks.

DENISE
But Mister Johannsen -- he always
makes arrangements for the fare.

By her trim little lines and the fake chinchilla coat she's
pulling sharply about, it's clear that Denise has been over
the bounding main -- regularly.

CABBIE

Lady, I don't care if it's the
Community Chest. Nobody made any
arrangements. You owe me eighteen
long.

Angry and a little confused, she thrusts a twenty at him.

DENISE
May your life be long and full of
crab grass.

She slams out the door, leaving him to glare unhappily at
the twenty.

EXT. BEVERLY HILLS STREET - NIGHT

The taxi screeches away, leaving Denise alone on the
deserted street. She steps into a yellow pool of light
beneath a street lamp.

CLOSER

Denise, taking in the house with a nervous sweep of her
eyes. Silence. A feeling she can't quite shake off. She
starts up the long walkway toward the front door, her
stiletto hooker heels echoing off the damp pavement. Her
hand reaching for the door bell, when, into Shot, spring
SONNY ZAJAK, a six-foot-six legend in camouflaged jungle
fatigues and steel knife. He clamps a hand to her mouth,
half-drags her through the bushes to the back of the house.

NEW ANGLE - AT BACK ALLEY

An empty van waiting. Zajak yanks open the back door, and
with his free hand, shoves her inside like a limp puppet --
such is Zajak's strength.

INT. VAN
Zajak shoves her against a wall.

ZAJAK
You've got one chance.

He puts the combat knife to her throat.

ZAJAK
You were with a man named LeClaire
last night. I want to know what
LeClaire said to you.

Denise sobbing now, her tears of fear and frustration.

DENISE
Said to me?

ZAJAK
He came to me. He came to me and
he admitted breaking a promise
he said he would never break. He
got drunk. Now what did he say,
Denise?

DENISE
But I...I don't know. Honest,
I...

ZAJAK
When he gets drunk, he tells secrets,
Denise. What secrets did he tell?

DENISE
Please--oh God--bragging stuff.
That's all he said. I don't know,
I don't know...

ZAJAK
What bragging stuff?

DENISE
Money--he said he liked me--that
we'd go away together...he was here
for a job, something big.

ZAJAK
You don't say...

CLOSE - ZAJAK

He plunges a knife. We don't see the body -- only the
cold, hard set of his face.

EXT. VAN

Denise's sprawled body partially visible on the pavement in
the f.g. as Zajak steps over it, slams shut the van doors,
and leaps into the driver's seat. The van SCREAMING away
and disappearing.

EXT. L.A. STREET - DAY

Morning light slants up a commercial street lined with two
and three-story professional buildings. At the far end of
the street. Hunter's car hums toward us.

INT. HUNTER'S CAR (MOVING)

Hunter squinting at the passing buildings, trying to pick
out an address, as McCall regards him skeptically from
behind the wheel.

McCALL
Hunter, what kind of girl goes
for a ride in fake chinchilla
and insists to the cabbie that
'arrangements' are usually made
for payment?

HUNTER
A hooker girl?

McCall nods solemnly.

HUNTER
The trouble with you, McCall, is
that you're always assuming the
worst of your fellow human.

McCALL
I'm a cop, not a fellow human. I
see things.

HUNTER
But you got to admit, when's the
last time a pimp used an eight-inch
carbon knife on one of his girls?

McCALL
So he's a weird pimp. All right,
I admit it doesn't make a lot of
sense, luring her out to a phony
date in B-H, but if she wasn't a
hooker, what's this -- her laundromat?

THEIR POV - THROUGH CAR WINDSHIELD

A nondescript vanilla building, flanked by a sign that
reads: Hot Tub Delight.

HUNTER'S VOICE
Hot Tub Delight?

EXT. HOT TUB SPA - DAY.

Hunter and McCall approaching on foot from their parked
car. When, from inside, they (and WE) HEAR:

VAMP'S VOICE
Have you heard the good news
about Mom? She's started her own
business...Yes, we're darn proud
of her. You know what that little
doll is selling? Peek-a-boo bras.

McCall gives Hunter a knowing look. Hunter eases open the
front door.

INT. HOT TUB SPA - DAY

to reveal not red flocked walls and chains and whips, but
sterile, almost convalescent waiting room where a bored
older gal in sensible dress (MRS. B) sits at the front
desk watching a portable TV. From the TV:

VAMP'S VOICE
Dad, he's going to make it big
with those plastic dolls. You know,
the ones with all the exact same...

Having glanced up and seen the visitors, she switches it
off, embarrassed at being caught watching this trash.

MRS. B
Cable.

Hunter, trying not to reveal his confusion, flashes his
badge.

HUNTER
Sergeant Rick Hunter. This is my
Partner, Sergeant McCall.

MRS. B
Oh my, what an unexpected delight!
Welcome, welcome!

She grabs his hand, begins to pump it furiously.

MRS. B
Are you two interested in the
pulsating jet room, or perhaps
the honeymoon hot tub special with
magic fingers --

HUNTER
Ma'am, I'm afraid we're here on
official business. But don't worry
we're not the Vice Squad...

MRS. B
Look here, my girls are good,
honest dedicated employees. Not
one of them scared of the hard
work it takes to subdue a stubborn
muscle.

HUNTER
Then I don't suppose you'd ever --
I mean, sometimes these kind of
establishments --

McCALL
What he's trying to say is - - do you
ever take in a little extra 'laundry'
on the side?

MRS. B
Some of these girls are in nursing
school! Their professors come in to
visit all the time!

ANGLE - FROM BACK SPA ROOM

The door opens to reveal this incredible body in silk
underpinings (LEANNE IVY), escorting out a totally ravaged
JOHN who resembles Ayesha after her second immersion in the
Flame of Life.

McCALL
That must be one of the professors
now.

Mrs. B stiffening noticeably. Finally getting Leanne's
attention.

MRS. B
(low)
Leanne. The Heat.

The John does an about-face and fades out of sight. But
Leanne, instead of showing fear, is indignant.

LEANNE
It's about time you showed up.

McCALL
(surprised)
You know about Denise?

LEANNE
Know about her! I'm the one who
called the desk sergeant. I was
worried. She didn't show up for
work today.

Hunter and McCall exchange a grim look.

McCALL
I'm sorry, but Denise won't be
coming back.

INT. SPA - PRIVATE ROOM

CUT TO

Hunter and McCall with a numb Leanne, her face red from
crying.

HUNTER
Leanne, have you any idea who
killed her?

Leanne, lost, just shakes her head.

HUNTER
You said she had a date last night?

Leanne's slow nod.

McCALL
A John?

LEANNE
(acquiescing)
I guess it doesn't matter now, does
it.

HUNTER
But the man's house she was supposed
to be visiting, Mister Johannsen, he
wasn't home. So who made the date?

LEANNE
I don't know.

McCALL
There wasn't a pimp -- someone she
was scared of crossing?

LEANNE
I don't have a pimp and neither
did she. The only guys who gave
her the creeps were the customers
Only she needed the money.

HUNTER
Was there anybody recently?
particular kink?

A brittle laugh from Leanne.

LEANNE
Is two nights ago recent enough?
Yeah, there was this guy -- she
said he really gave her the
whim-whams.

McCALL
Why do you suppose she said that?

LEANNE
I don't know. He got drunk, started
spouting off all kinds of weird stuff
I don't know exactly what. I didn't
ask. Dammit!

HUNTER
Leanne, do you at least remember If
she called him by name?

Another helpless headshake.

McCALL
Did she keep a book -- something
that would have his name in it?

LEANNE
All's I remember is it Sounded
kinda French. Like 'Du' something
or rather.

HUNTER
If she didn't have a book on him,
is it because he's new to L.A.,
or just visiting? Could he be
here on business, vacation?

LEANNE
That's it -- don't you see? She
said she'd take the money and run,
because he was in town just for
the week.

McCALL
Leanne, try to remember. How
did she meet him? Did he call her?

LEANNE
It was a bar...he called her from
a bar.

HUNTER
A bar named--?

EXT. BAR - DAY

One of those rough, tough bars where the feeble fear to
tread. A sign reading, "75th Airborne".

LEANNE'S VOICE
Something or rather -'Airborne' .
That's it -- 75th Airborne...

INT. BAR

It's like stepping into the combat zone. War patches
plastering the walls (note: none that can be readily ID'd
as Vietnam) along with rusty weapons and war bootie from some
dead V.C., and a roomful of gung ho, badass ex-GI oddballs,
a few of them in camis blotched and striped in the verdant
hues of the Third World.

REVERSE

to reveal we've been observing through Hunter's slightly
glazed POV. Hunter shakes his head in dismay as the
jukebox needle goes down on some crazy macho tune.

ANGLE

A half-naked Blonde in a tee-shirt proclaiming "Kill a
Commie For Mommy". Hunter moves into scene, wryly looks
her up and down.

HUNTER
Neat shirt.

She smiles stupidly.

HUNTER

He moves on, encountering more drunken Good Old Boys from
the Good Old Days, many of them middle-aged and paunchy,

EX-GI #1
We woulda blitzed the rice paddies,
with some fire-breathing chemicals,
war woulda been over.

EX-GI #2
(wryly)
Sure, and you could be sittin' here
like some mutant with a third eye
in the middle of your nose.

They laugh. A logjam ahead as the crowd knots, necks
craning in anticipation. Hunter is halted by them.

HUNTER
(to himself)
Gotta be a blast and a half.

The crowd parts slightly and the legend himself comes into
view. Denise's killer, Zajak. He's facing a cloth
practice dummy marked for vital killing parts, and is
gripping a bayonet. Nothing lies behind that dummy but a
brick wall.

ZAJAK
Forget all the crap you've read.
Real men don't need Uzis. They
don't need Sterlings. Just grab
your fist around a nice little
piece of steel and shove it up the
fourth point of contact.

With a little KARATE CRY, Zajak wheels and spears the dummy
right through the heart with his bayonet.
A ripple of ecstasy at his Maximum Coolness.

ZAJAK
I don' t make the wars, and I don' t
fight 'em for the money. But I
choose the way they're gonna die,
and that's eyeball to eyeball,
mano a mano.

NEW ANGLE

Hunter, elbowing his way to the front.
He stops dead as he sees who it is for the first time.

HUNTER
Somebody get a butterfly net.

Zajak turns to regard Hunter. A hint of shock, a killer
smile, deep water beneath this bridge. They know each
other but for some macho reason they neither will extend
the courtesy of recognition.

ZAJAK
Well...If you got a bigger whale
Tail--

He offers the bayonet. But Hunter just shakes his head
"no", backing away from the challenge.

HUNTER
How much macho you need to
outfence a dummy?

ZAJAK
Don't worry, sweetheart -- it won't
go off.

Raucous laughter. Hunter giving nothing away.

ZAJAK

yanking the bayonet from the cloth corpse. He takes aim
again with the bayonet, sighting, measuring, when suddenly
the dummy EXPLODES from an o.s. GUNSHOT, its straw guts
flying out.

ANGLE WIDENS
to reveal Hunter blowing imaginary smoke from his gun.

HUNTER
Blow 'em all to grape jelly.

He reholsters the gun. Zajak is seething and trying to
hide it from the patrons.

ZAJAK
Hunter.

HUNTER
And little Sonny Zajak, the tin
soldier. I could've sworn I locked
you up and threw away the key.

ZAJAK
It's called parole, and there's
not one damn thing you can do
about it.

HUNTER
That's what I love about this
wonderful world: Guilty as hell
and free as a bird.

And he disappears into the crowd. Despite themselves,
Zajak's Army turns to watch him go. So does Zajak.

INT. AT BAR

Hunter sits on an empty stool, waving a greenback at the
shaved-head Barkeep who's busy trying not to notice him.
Finally the Barkeep lumbers over and snatches it up,
wadding it into his pants pocket. And goes right on
avoiding Hunter. The end of the bill trails out like an
impolite middle finger.

HUNTER
Excuse me. I'm looking for a guy
who's one of these house apes. A guy
with a French name. Any way you
might be able to help me on that?

BARKEEP
Well why don't you try French Lick,
Indiana?

Hunter just smiles back, real neighborly.

HUNTER
French Lick. That's real cute.

The guy next to him has planted a cigar in his mouth.
Hunter flicks his Bic and starts to light it for the guy.

HUNTER
No, I was thinking of something
farther south. How about Fire
Island?

And suddenly swivels and lights the end of the bill in the
Barkeep's pants. It's burning quite nicely as Hunter
calmly gets up to leave -- the Barkeep frantically beating
out the flames.

TWO SHOT

A Cro-Magnon in mere garb has sidled up to Zajak -- the
fearsome LECLAIRE. He's just seen Hunter's bit with the
Barkeep.

LECLAIRE
(surprised)
You actually know that weirded-out
cop?

ZAJAK
Know him? I put a whole 9 milimeter
clip around, under, but not through
him.

LECLAIRE
Why don't I go dust him off a little?

ZAJAK
LeClaire, don't you think you've
dirtied the waters enough already?

LeClaire, chastened.

ZAJAK
Why don' t you save your energy for
tonight? Then you can play real
cops and robbers.

EXT. PHARMACEUTICAL SUPPLY HOUSE - NIGHT

Dark and silent at this late hour. Only a lobby light
burning.

EXT. SUPPLY HOUSE - AT BACK ENTRANCE - NIGHT

A uniformed private security Guard briskly making his
rounds, spit-and-polish (REUSS), packing a bolstered
revolver, shining flashlight into the darkened windows. In
short on his toes, alert.

HOLD ON the shadowy rear entrance as he continues past.
After a long moment, Zajak creeps into view, got up like a
rampaging Comanche -- face smeared green, weapons
protruding from every crevice, including the dark-blonde
handle of an AK-47 that's resting in his hands.

CLOSER

On his signal, the rest of his cami-clad group appears:

ULRICH, a tall German kid, NKOMO, a black African, a couple
other mercs, and:

LE CLAIRE

who steps on something that makes a sharp sound as it
crunches. Zajak angrily turns on him. LaClaire gives a
helpless "not my fault" gesture. Zajak grabs him, doesn't
let go until seconds have ticked away.

ZAJAK
(low)
All right...Ulrich!

Ulrich takes out a long, sharp instrument and begins to
work on the lock.

ZAJAK
It takes them five minutes before
they come back around again. We
just lost twenty seconds.

Glancing at Ulrich, then into the luminous sweep of his
wristwatch.

ZAJAK
(then)
Mark. On my command --

ULRICH
hurriedly working on the door lock.

REUSS' VOICE
Freeze, you hear me? Drop those guns!

FULL SHOT

Reuss with gun drawn, has them dead to rights. Zajak's men
startled, then angry. Zajak with an unnerving, steady
smile. Then he slowly reaches out with a boot and kicks
something. Reuss' eyes wander for only a second, but:

ZAJAK

swiveling around with the AK-47 and BLASTING Reuss into
oblivion.

OMITTED

ANGLE WIDENS

A hurried glance at his troops --
who are even now dragging the body out of sight -- and he
BLOWS OFF the lock with the AK-47.

ZAJAK
Go, go, go!...

They burst into the rear door as Zajak waves them past. He
quickly follows and shuts it behind them.

INT. PHARMACEUTICAL SUPPLY HOUSE - NIGHT

as they quickly fan out, moving toward the stairs with
maximum speed and efficiency.

ANGLE - MAIN SUPPLY ROOM DOOR

LeClaire, drilling the lock with his semi-automatic weapon,
the BLAST echoing and re-echoing in the stillness. He
kicks the door in, peering inside. Thumbs up for the
all-clear.

ZAJAK
Hurry! With all the fireworks --
Let's hit it and go!

The others hurry inside.

INT. MAIN SUPPLY ROOM

With swift but methodical precision, the team goes to work
opening drawers and refrigerators and dumping into bags the
contents: a rainbow spectrum of various pill bottles.
They know exactly what they want and there's not a wasted
motion.

ZAJAK

the sweat beading on his forehead. Another glance at his
watch.

ZAJAK
Eighty seconds.

While his troops are gathering drugs at random, Zajak goes
to a drawer in a far corner. He's looking for something.
He finds it. It's a box (cigar box size) of pills. This
he carefully places into a separate pouch in a combat
pocket. Another glance at his watch.

ZAJAK
Forty seconds.

A last burst of thievery and the remaining last pills fall
into the bags of his men.

ZAJAK
Come on -- out, out, let's go...

They go tearing out.

EXT. PHARMACEUTICAL SUPPLY HOUSE - NIGHT

CLOSE ON back door as it hurtles toward us and Zajak and
his men, laden with bags of stolen drugs, hard-charge past
us, pile into Zajak's van and melt into the darkness.

EXT. METRO DIVISION - NIGHT

Not many lights burning here, either.

INT. SQUAD ROOM

Hunter, wheeling toward CAMERA and snatching a typewritten
report from the hand of a Detective we've seen earlier.

HUNTER
A medical supply house--? You're
saying a bunch of guys who believe
in God, Mom and Rambo would break
in and steal drugs?

WIDEN

The Detective, startled by Hunter's aggressiveness.

DETECTIVE
Down, boy.

HUNTER
But what would they do with street
drugs? They don't snort 'em, they
don't shoot 'em, they don't even
like 'em.

McCall appearing during the above, weary and slightly askew
from a long day.

McCALL
(glancing at report)
How about selling them? A haul
like this could bring a cool mil
on the street.

HUNTER
I suppose so. It's just you
expect this kind of thing more
from a bunch of junkies.

DETECTIVE
You don't believe me, ask the
guard --if you hurry. He's
got about nine bullet holes
in him, but ain't nothing wrong
with his eyesight.

McCALL
(to Detective)
Jungle garb and Uzis. That's about
all he told you?

DETECTIVE
(nods)
That and the fact the guy who
blasted him is tall -- built like a
stone wall, cami clothes and cami
make up -- and one real mean lizard.

McCall and Hunter, exchanging a look.

McCALL
(to Hunter)
Zajak?

DETECTIVE
(surprised)
You actually know the freak who
might have done this?

HUNTER
Maybe.

DETECTIVE
Well watch yourself, you two,
'cause after leaving a witness
behind he's apt to be in a real
good mood.

He drops the report back on Hunter's desk as Hunter
grabs the phone and punches a number.

HUNTER
This is Sergeant Hunter...I want
to know the parole officer for a
Sonny Zajak, Z-A-J-A-K...I don't care
how late it is. Look it up!

His grim look, filled with promise. And we:

FADE OUT

END OF ACT ONE

************************************************************

ACT TWO

FADE IN

INT. DOWNTOWN HOTEL - STAIRWELL - DAY

A single, unshaded bulb illuminates Hunter moving
stealthily along.

INT. HALLWAY - DAY

Edging along the worn carpet, he reaches a numbered room
door, stands listening a moment. Then he silently unlocks
the door with a pass key.

INT. HOTEL ROOM

Drab and shabby. A man is sleeping on the bed, his face
turned away. Hunter comes closer. Dreaming, the man turns
toward Camera. It's Zajak.

CLOSE - HUNTER
his face hard.

CLOSE - ZAJAK
untroubled in sleep.

HUNTER

He leans over, grabs the loose blanket beneath Zajak and
yanks hard, dumping him onto the floor in his jockey
shorts. Zajak comes awake pissed and sputtering.

ZAJAK
What the hell --

Then he sees Hunter standing over him. He charges Hunter.
There's a short, brief struggle that ends with Zajak subdued
and cuffed. Hunter snaps on a light, starts searching the
room.

ZAJAK
Hey! You don't even have a
warrant!

HUNTER
Wanna bet?

He flashes one.

HUNTER
And it says here I not only can
take away your AK-47, but I'm
arresting you in the murder of the
man you used it on... and that's
just the beginning of your
nightmare.

OMITTED

INT. INTERROGATION ROOM - DAY

Phones ringing off the hook, reports being typed, Zajak's
men (sans Ulrich) grim and uncommunicative, facing several
Detectives.

DETECTIVE
(checking off list)
Nkomo...LeClaire...Ulrich -- Where's
Ulrich?

SECOND DETECTIVE
On his way. Don't worry --we got
the whole, happy party.

ANGLE - AT HUNTER'S DESK

Zajak seated, hiding his apprehension with his mere
swagger. Deliberate, unhurried, and with total confidence,
Hunter sits down, makes himself comfortable, loosening his
coat. Finally he turns his attention to Zajak, letting all
this work on his nerves.

HUNTER
Manfred T. Reuss.

ZAJAK
Never heard of him.

HUNTER
He knows you. He was at the Parkland
Pharmaceutical Supply Company last
night remember? He saw you -- just
before you filled him with bullets.

ZAJAK
Remind me to send a funeral
wreath.

HUNTER
He's not dead, Zajak.

From Zajak, a slight stir.

HUNTER
Surprised me, too. But when he
wakes up, he s going to have a whole
lot to say about you.

INT. BOOKING DESK.

McCall arriving before the female BOOKING SERGEANT.

BOOKING SERGEANT
Sergeant McCall. I thought you'd
be where the action is -- over with
the trained killers.

McCALL
Trained? I'm not even sure they're
house broken.

They share a laugh.

McCALL
Listen, you mind letting me have
a look at the paperwork?

The Sergeant produces some carboned sheets. McCall studies
them with growing excitement.

McCALL
...LeClaire. LeClaire -- that's
French enough.

NEW ANGLE

to include Ulrich being marched past in handcuffs, looking
McCall over. But McCall's turned to another Detective who
appears from an opposite door.

McCALL
Hey, did you get mugs of these
guys?

By way of explanation she hands him the carboned sheets.
He glances at them.

DETECTIVE
Sure. They're under arrest.

McCALL
Then would you mind showing me a
photo of the one called 'LeClaire'...

INT. SQUAD ROOM

Hunter, bearing down on Zajak, trying to make sense of it
all.

HUNTER
Zajak, I don't get it. What were
you doing raiding drugs?

Zajak just glares at him, stonewalling.

HUNTER
You hate 'em so much you'd never
get near drugs. Your friends
don't use 'em -- you'd never dirty
your hands with 'em. And now you
break in and steal a million bucks
worth of drugs to peddle to some
high school kids? Why, Zajak?
Why?

ZAJAK
Talk to my lawyer.

That does it. Hunter rams the table against Zajak, pinning
him to the wall in his chair.

ZAJAK
Why you stupid son of a...

CAPTAIN WYLER

arriving with ARTHUR SPIEGEL, a high-powered attorney.

CAPTAIN WYLER
(overlapping)
Sergeant Hunter --?

HUNTER
(easing forward
the table)
That chair again -- always giving
us fits.

SPIEGEL
I want Mister Zajak and his men
freed.

HUNTER
You're dreaming. As soon as it can
be arranged with the hospital, we're
going to parade these guys out for
a lineup --

SPIEGEL
A lineup? A lineup with whom?
That guard just died, and he was
your only witness on earth! Case
closed. Let these people go.

Wyler nods his reluctant assent to Hunter, who just yanks
his thumb toward the door as if to say, "get the hook".
And out Zajak and the others go.

CAPTAIN WYLER AND HUNTER

CAPTAIN WYLER
Hunter, don't break the chairs.
It's not in the department budget.

Wyler returns to his office. Hunter, relieved, having
expected a reprimand. McCall joins him.

HUNTER
I'm going to stay on him. Want to
come along?

McCALL
You follow Zajak. I've got a name
-- LeClaire ~- that could be that
French name Leanne heard from her
friend. Maybe I'll just concentrate
on my 'feminine wiles'.

This said with rueful smile as McCall picks up a phone.

HUNTER
You're right. I forget what a
dainty little thing you are.

Hunter pats her on the head like a submissive female and
quickly gets the hell out.

McCALL
(yelling)
Hunter, I bet you sleep with a
night light...

INT. HOT TUB SPA - DAY

CLOSE on Leanne's eager face.

LEANNE
LeClaire! That's the guy! That's
the name of Denise's last date!
What can I do to get him?

INT. SQUAD ROOM
McCall on the other end.

McCALL
How about helping me make a date
with him?

She's serious.

INT. MARINA - NIGHT

Pastel lights twinkling off the bows of gleaming boats,
playing across the Pacific. Zajak accompanying Spiegel, the
mouthpiece, as they disappear into the dark.

HUNTER
shadowing from a safe distance.

EXT. AT BOAT SLIP

Spiegel using a key Co open the gate. It snaps shut behind
the two men and they go down the long walk and disappear
into the darkness.

HUNTER

Pausing a moment for prudence, he steals across the open
expanse until he, too, has reached the locked gate. Only
he doesn't have a key, and the fence is well designed to
keep people out. It keeps Hunter out. He slams it in
frustration.

INT. KHESANH BAR - NIGHT

The same weird merc-types. In the f.g., a couple of muscle-
bound buddies hanging over the bar. Suddenly, they catch
sight of something so wild, so totally awesome, that their
necks swivel in unison.

McCALL AND LEANNE (

Leanne, the Queen of Hookerdom. Lots of lipstick and
Maybelline eyes -- and McCall dressed (or un-) like a
Merc's wet dream: Cami beret and Khaki shorts cut all the
way to there. She blows the guys a kiss. It stands them a
little straighter.

McCALL
Ever 'get down' with that one?

A real Hunk brushes past her.

LEANNE
Well, you know what they say about
quarterbacks -- good hands and a
heckuva playbook.

McCall smiling. And the smile dies on her face.

LEANNE
Is he here? Do you see him?

McCALL
(low)
In all his glory.

McCALL'S POV - AT TABLE

LeClaire sucking beers with some of Zajak's other men (not
Ulrich). He's making EXPLOSIVE SOUNDS, gesturing wildly
like a kid reenacting the great HO train wreck.

RESUME

Leanne's raw anger.

LEANNE
If there's anything else I can
do to nail that scumball...

McCALL
Thanks, Leanne. You've already
helped a lot. But now it's my
turn.

Leanne slowly nodding.

LEANNE
Hey...Get him for me, would
you?

LECLAIRE

He turns from the table and McCall wheels into him,
splashing brew on her blouse.

LECLAIRE
Well, babe, if you want to get
acquainted, there's a better way.

McCALL
Thanks for ruining my blouse.

She turns and starts to walk off. He sees she can't simply
be bought. It intrigues him.

LECLAIRE
Whoa, wait a minute. I'm sorry.
I didn't mean to be offensive.

She slows down, surveying him.

McCALL
I can see you're just one big
teardrop.

He peers down at the blouse.

LECLAIRE
Would you look at the nasty stain.
There's only one answer -- club
soda. And if I ask real nice,
they'll even put a cherry on top.

McCall, eyeing him seductively.

McCALL
You're really evil, aren't you.

LECLAIRE
Don't you ever have the urge to
be just a little bit evil?

EXT. YACHT - NIGHT

THOMAS DALLESANDRO, 40ish, a Beverly Hills banker who looks
like he invented the term "creative financing." A La Costa
tan set off by an arrogant tongue and Guccis. Right now
Zajak (with Spiegel) is the focus of his ire.

DALLESANDRO
I ask you to slip in quietly and
nicely and you charge in with
four commandos and a bazooka.

ZAJAK
Look Mister Dallesandro. Nobody
saw us but one guy who's now
residing in the County Morgue.

DALLESANDRO
Listen to me. I told you to keep
it simple. There were other ways
I could've used to get into that
supply house -- like bribing a guard.
Too dangerous, I said. Hell, even
that would've been less risky than
what you did.

ZAJAK.
It was bad luck. One chance in a
million. My man stepped on a piece
of glass or something and it made a
noise. Otherwise, it would've been
smooth as silk.

DALLESANDRO
But the cops aren't raving jackasses.
They're going to start putting it
together.

ZAJAK
And what'll they have? A big fat
zero. To them, it's just your
typical rip-off of street drugs
for profit.

DALLESANDRO
Go ahead -- keep talking. Keep
laying it on. But the fact is, you
come to me highly recommended --
then you wrap my butt in a sling-
shot and tell me to love the way
it feels.

Zajak, despite all he's been through, still in control a
he turns on his heel to exit.

ZAJAK
Mister Dallesandro, I guarantee
you. When the big job goes down,
you'll be pinning me with medals...

And he walks away. Dallesandro, doing a slow simmer.

DALLESANDRO
(to Spiegel)
You can't trust anyone! One of
the biggest names on the street --
a real mover and shaker --he
told me this creep was perfect
for what I gotta do.

SPIEGEL
And what's that?

DALLESANDRO
You don't want to know.

SPIEGEL
Believe me. I think it's about
time I did.

Dallesandro, studying Spiegel, seeing he's immovable.
Finally:

DALLESANDRO
Arthur, let me tell you the secret
of my success in the Beverly Hills
banking world. The secret is, it's
not me.

DALLESANDRO
It's a man named Charley Jahaucken
who works the other end in the
Caymans. He's the guy who does
the work. He launders the money.
He's my partner. Without him,
I'm dead.

These revelations clearly take Spiegel by surprise,

SPIEGEL
But Tom, that's the guy they
just put away at Terminal Island.
Why didn't you Cell me before? I
could work out an appeal --

DALLESANDRO
If I waited for appeals I'd be
broke before they got turned down.
I'm yanking him straight out of
stir.

Spiegel, startled.

SPIEGEL
You're breaking him out of
Terminal Island? No way -- it's
never been done, can't be done.

DALLESANDRO
Well just watch me. Because in
that drug heist is a very strange
drug...Charley will swallow
it, and he will land in the
hospital. A hospital two miles
outside the prison. The only
question is can Zajak really
do it? Can he spring Charley?

SPIEGEL
If you're talking impossible,
maybe that's the one thing he
can do...

EXT. MARINA - NIGHT

Zajak exiting the well-secured gate, closing it behind him.
When he stops dead at the sight of something before him.

HIS POV

Hunter waiting for him with drawn .38. In the dark, he
looks like an executioner.

HUNTER
Hello, Zajak. Let's you and me
take a little stroll.

EXT. PLANK - OVER MARINA WATERS - NIGHT

A lonely part of the marina, the light values those of the
distant boat slips. Hunter with the gun trained on Zajak.

HUNTER
Move it!

ZAJAK
I forgot my suit.

HUNTER
You heard what I said. Get a move on!

Zajak, realizing now that Hunter is up to something -- but
what? It's all a little unnerving.

ZAJAK
Why would I want to do a thing
like that?

HUNTER
Hurry up. You're blocking the
entrance.

ZAJAK
Just read me my rights and I'll
give you my answer --

And Zajak lunges for the gun. Hunter steps back, trips
him, and he falls into the cold Pacific with a mighty
SPLASH.

ZAJAK
Holy living --

Reaching for the side of the plank to pull himself up.
Hunter obliges by pushing him farther away. Zajak,
beginning to panic.

ZAJAK
Hey, help me out of here! I
can't swim!

HUNTER
Can you believe it? A trained
killer-diller and he can't swim a
stroke. Heckuva letdown...
question is, can Zajak really
do it?

Zajak batting furiously at the water.

ZAJAK
So help me...

HUNTER
Easy there, pal. Quit flailing
away. If you keep that up you're
liable to die.

And sure enough, Zajak goes under, shooting back up as he
coughs and gags on salt water.

ZAJAK
I don't know anything --

Hunter deliberately misunderstanding to twist the knife
deeper.

HUNTER
Sure you do. We'll have you
earning your polliwog pin in no
time.

ZAJAK
Get me out of here!

HUNTER
You had a meeting on one of those
boats out there. Tell me what
boat and who owns it.

ZAJAK
(sputtering)
Hunter, for God's sake...

HUNTER
That's it Zajak. Take it or
leave it.

Hunter reaches out to push Zajak away from the plank again.
Zajak, fighting blindly, trying to pull Hunter down with
him. He only succeeds in going under again. He comes up
spouting a stream of water like a great whale -- farther
away from the plank than ever.

HUNTER
One more time. Who were you
talking to on that boat?

ZAJAK
Come on, Hunter. Get me out --
I'm goin' down!

HUNTER
Too bad, Zajak. I told you the
bargain. Give my regards to King Neptune.

And Hunter rises and starts to walk away, leaving Zajak to
flail desperately on his own.

ZAJAK
(calling weakly)
Dallesandro -- Thomas Dallesandro.

Hunter turns back around. His bluff successful.

HUNTER
What slip?

ZAJAK
C...C-1601.

HUNTER
Now that wasn't so hard, was it?

Hunter tosses him a buoy that's lying on the plank and
walks away.

ZAJAK

pulling himself onto the plank with it. Hunter is gone. He
lies there for a long, seething moment.

INT. BAR. - NIGHT

Alone at the corner table, McCall leaning close to
LeClaire. She fishes a maraschino cherry from her empty
glass. LeClaire, watching every stroke, wanting her -- his
desire fueled further by several drinks.

LECLAIRE
Baby, you hang it out this far,
somebody's apt to come along and
bite it right off.

McCALL
Are we talking about the same
thing?

LECLAIRE
Why don't we find out?

He leans over to kiss her lips. She brushes him away,
tantalizing again.

McCALL
How about finding some place
that's a little more quiet?

He takes her hand, yanking her to her feet.

LECLAIRE
Sure...you know a nice, safe place,
Sugar?

McCALL
(nods)
Right around the corner. A nice,
quiet hotel --

LECLAIRE
No hotels. No motels. Understand?

He looks about a little wildly, a little paranoid. McCall,
running through the possibilities, her uncertainty evident.

LECLAIRE
What's the matter? You all show and
no go?

McCALL

Nothing -- no problem. I know a
perfect place we can go -- nice and
safe and very private...

POV - FROM INT. GLASS PHONE BOOTH

Hanging all over McCall, LeClaire walks her out.

REVERSE

Watching in a great agitation is the merc, ULRICH -- the
one who made McCall as a cop. He's on the phone and
straining to watch them until they're out of sight.

ULRICH
(into phone)
How many times do I have to
Cell you? Z-A-J-A-K. Zajak.
So let it ring all night...Forget
it, forget it...

He slams down the receiver, begins to follow.

INT. McCALL'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

LeClaire relaxing on-the-sofa with McCall, several more
empty glasses on the table. They've been here a while, and
he's only now advancing toward that loose-tongue state of
drunkenness. McCall toasts him.

McCALL
Bottoms up...

She nurses her drink as he drains still another glass of
booze.

LECLAIRE
...you name it -- veldt, jungle, a
dark old cave on some Godforsaken
island -- I probably been there
and blown somebody to smithereens.

He reaches for McCall and spills some of the booze,
angrily, sopping it up.

McCALL
Honey, you wouldn't be putting
me on, would you?

LECLAIRE
Listen...

He glances about conspiratorially. Decides it's safe to
reveal more.

LECLAIRE
You heard of a guy by the name
of Charley Jahaucken?

McCall looks blank.

LECLAIRE
C'mon, Jahaucken. He's the guy
in the papers -- the one who owns
half the damn Carribbean. Close
personal friend of mine.

McCALL
Oh, that guy. You know him, huh?

LeClaire slowly nods his head. Any faster and he'd be
seeing double.

LECLAIRE
We're like this.

He crosses index and middle finger to signal the tightness
of this relationship.

McCALL
Jahaucken...I thought he was the
guy they sent away to the slammer.

LECLAIRE
(laughs)
You think the slam scares a guy
like that?
(then)
Hey, baby, where's that big, warm
bed you promised?

He reaches for her and she adroitly slips his hold and gets
up.

McCALL
How about another drink first?

She goes over to the bar, LeClaire remaining on the sofa in
the b.g.

LECLAIRE
No, it's time to party.

McCall, secretly checking her watch. She frowns.

McCALL
We can't party on an empty boat.
One more -- for the motion of the
ocean.

LeClaire grins. He spots McCall mixing the drinks.

LECLAIRE
Hey, easy on the sugar, okay? You
broads never know how to do it.

In one glass, McCall pours a tiny bit of colorless,
crystalline substance. A glance over at the big behemoth
and she adds another sprinkle.

McCALL
...with a cherry on top.

A thorough stir and she returns to lover boy. She toasts
him and he drains his glass -- and pulls her roughly to
him.

McCALL
Easy, boy. We haven't even
gotten to the main, course.

McCall, peeking at her watch. When he scoops her up in his
arms like a Stone Age conqueror and begins to carry her
back toward the bedroom.

McCALL
No -- stop it!...You'll throw
out your back...

He just laughs. It's looking like date rape until
suddenly, for no apparent reason, he stumbles. McCall,
trying to break free as he collides with a lamp, knocking
to the floor, then careening into the other wall, smashing
there bric-a-brac. McCall, half dumped, half lurching to
the floor because something is terribly wrong with
LeClaire. Worse yet, he knows it.

LECLAIRE
My head...What did you do to me?'

McCALL
No, you've just had a teeny bit
too much.

But even now she's backing away.

LECLAIRE
A Mickey -- you slipped me a
freakin' Mickey!

Stumbling toward her until, with surprising agility, he
seizes her around the throat with both hands. He's intent
on killing her. She tries to break the hold, stomping on
his foot, clawing and biting. None work. Growing
desperate, she makes a fist and punches him in the nose
with a karate blow. He goes down as if poleaxed -- a
combination of drugs and McCall's savage blow. She grabs
for the telephone, begins to dial.

INT. HUNTER'S CAR (MOVING) - NIGHT

HUNTER
(into radio mike)
Why can't you just meet me at
headquarters -- hey, you having
asthma or something? You sound
all out of breath.

INT. McCALL'S LIVING ROOM

In the b.g., LeClaire's giant form lolling about in
troubled, comatose sleep.

McCALL
(into phone)
Hunter, there s no time! Get
over here and lend a hand. I'm
gonna need you.

She hangs up, tightening her hold on the phone, ready to
use it as a weapon if need be.

INT. ZAJAK'S HOTEL ROOM - NIGHT

CLOSE on a phone on the table, ringing and ringing
unanswered, as a bathroom shower sprays o.s. The shower
stops. A shower door clicking open, and an annoyed Zajak
hurrying into view with towel gathered at the waist. He
snatches up the receiver.

INT. PAY PHONE BOOTH - NIGHT

ULRICH
(into phone)
Zajak, we got trouble --it's
LeClaire. He's getting drunk
again and this time he's with
a cop...

INTERCUT

ZAJAK
(incredulous)
A cop? He's dating cops now?

ULRICH
A female cop...

INT. McCALL'S LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
CLOSE - LeCLAIRE'S DRUGGED FACE

The heavily lidded eyes slowly focusing and unfocusing as
the layers of unconsciousness peel away.

LeCLAIRE'S POV - OUT OF FOCUS
until it sharpens to reveal the smiling face of Hunter.

FULL SHOT

LeClaire, handcuffed from behind. McCall on Hunter's other
side. She doesn't want any part of this rampaging apeman.

HUNTER
That's right -- look at me,
LeClaire. I'm a cop, just like
her. And the whole damn thing
is coming apart.

LeClaire, testing the cuffs. They hold fast.

HUNTER
We know about Dallesandro. We
know he's a banker, that the
drug heist is just peanuts to a
guy like that. We even know you
said too much to Denise, and
that's why she had to die.

LECLAIRE
(weakly)
Then why talk to me? Ask
Dallesandro.

But fear in that. Hunter making inroads.

HUNTER
You don't want to go up for
Murder one. When they strap you
down and the slide clicks open,
and out pops that little pellet
of cyanide.

LECLAIRE
You're wasting your breath. I
don't know anything.

HUNTER
LeClaire, you're a survivor.
I'm giving you the only way out.

LECLAIRE
Colonal Zajak -- he'd rip my
guts out if I talk.

HUNTER
Zajak will be dead in the gas
chamber. Save yourself, man.

LeClaire, nodding slowly in consent. He starts to say
something when Hunter claps a hand over his mouth,
listening hard to something outside. When short bursts of
automatic GUNFIRE shatter the window, tatooing the wall
above their heads. Everybody hits the deck.

EXT. McCALL'S HOUSE - NIGHT

Zajak leading his troops in this suburban assault, blazing
away with mere weapons.

INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

All hell breaks loose. Hunter and McCall ducking and
rolling for cover. LeClaire on his stomach behind the
safety of an overstuffed chair. Mirrors and prized objects
smashing and shattering, the swirl of plaster dust. And
every few moments or so. Hunter and McCall daring a return
shot. Until all at once, the shooting stops. Footsteps
running away, the squeal of rubber, and a-car screams away.

HUNTER

yanking open the front door. The assailants have fled. He
turns back to share this with McCall and finds suddenly that
she's nowhere in sight.

HUNTER
Hey - McCall...?

McCALL'S VOICE
You're not going to believe this.

He follows her voice to the over stuffed chair, where McCall
crouches beside LeClaire. Not a scratch on the two cops,
but an arsenal has left its mark on the merc. He's stone
cold dead.

NEW ANGLE
McCall rising to regard her destroyed living room.

McCALL
Hunter, for God's sake, this is
my house...who's going to pay for
all this?

She picks up a favorite stuffed alligator, its head shot
off. Hunter puts a comforting arm around her.

HUNTER
Have you thought about suing the
city?

FADE OUT

END OF ACT TWO

***********************************************************

ACT THREE

FADE IN

OMITTED

EXT. COFFEE SHOP - DAY

Early morning sun glinting off the wraparound windows. In
the adjacent parking lot, we might recognize Hunter's
unmarked sedan.

INT. COFFEE SHOP
Hunter and McCall over breakfast in one of those vinyl
booths. McCall is only toying with her eggs, which stare
back in congealed shock. After the events of last night,
McCall's a little upset herself.

HUNTER
Eat your eggs.

McCALL
I'm not hungry.

HUNTER
C'mon, it'll put hair on your
chest.

McCALL
Hunter, if I want a winter coat
I'll buy a mink.

Hunter's stifled cough, trying hard to cover his laughter.

HUNTER
I'm sorry, Dee Dee. Next time
you play 'My Favorite Hooker' you
bring 'em home to a hotel.

McCALL
It's not just that. By the time
the coroner and IA and the Shooting
Team left -- I forgot to tell you.
LeClaire mentioned a name. Charley
Hawken.

HUNTER
(surprised)
Charley Hawken?

She nods. The name obviously has meaning for both of them

HUNTER
How weird...Did he say how he
knew him?

McCALL
My guess is that LeClaire was just
name dropping. He was bragging
about Charley owning half the
Carribbean.

HUNTER
Sure, when he's not doing time
for financing coke deals. Which
he is now.

McCALL
Yeah, he said something about that,
too -- like the slam doesn't scare
him.

HUNTER
It gets odder and odder, doesn't it?

McCALL
Mercs like LeClaire and Zajak
hanging out with Dallesandro and now
Charley Hawken. What do you think?

HUNTER
I don't know. Dallesandro's at
least halfway respectable. Why
don't we put it to him?

McCall brightens.

McCALL
You know, Hunter, sometimes you
outdo even yourself.

Hunter warmly accepting the accolade, spies a passing
Waitress with varicose veins.

HUNTER
Ma'am...Could you wrap these eggs
up for Sis here -- and throw in a
little of that day-old bread?

McCall gives him a look that could kill.

EXT. MARINA - DAY
The postcard view of gleaming white sails.

ANOTHER ANGLE

Hunter and McCall hustling along on foot until they reach
the boat slip gate. This time, an up-scale Couple is
coming through the gate. They're dressed for a party
they've just been to. Hunter reaches out and catches the
gate before it can shut.

HUNTER
Morning. Beautiful day, isn't
she.
(to McCall)
Honey, not too many meatballs.
Remember what the doctor said.

He smiles, gives a little salute and disappears inside
with McCall.

McCALL
(low)
The sheer charm of the man...

EXT. DALLESANDRO'S YACHT - DAY

Dallesandro seated in a chair on the deck, conversing with
Spiegel.

SPIEGEL
Once they stop the lead car,
they make the grab.

DALLESANDRO
No fuss, no muss?

Spiegel nods.

DALLESANDRO
Bull...That's how Zajak gets his
jollies. But let's just hope he
gets Charley out without killing
him first.

From the entrance, a slight commotion -- and into view
step:

NEW ANGLE
Hunter and McCall, shoving their way past hired Muscle.

DALLESANDRO
Sergeant, I had no idea I was so
important to the Department.

McCALL
(under her breath)
Regular mutual admiration society.

Hunter freezes Spiegel and Muscle with the flourish of a
court writ.

HUNTER
(reading)
Any and all papers relating to the
employment of Sonny Zajak to be
surrendered upon demand.

DALLESANDRO
Never heard of him.

McCALL
Does that go for Charley Hawken?

From Dallesandro's look, it's obvious that she's touched
nerve.

HUNTER
Yeah, we heard you were practically
blood brothers.

DALLESANDRO
(recovering)
Please...! don't even know the man.

Spiegel, staring suspiciously at Hunter's writ.

SPIEGEL
Let me see that --

Hunter abruptly turns to Dallesandro with the writ, past
Spiegel's outstretched hand. Spiegel grabs for the writ
and Hunter grabs his wrist retrieving it.

SPIEGEL
I'll get you for this. I'll
break you!

Dallesandro rises in anger. He hates to be angry in from
of cops. Hunter's gotten to him but good.

DALLESANDRO
Spiegel, shut up!

Hunter shoves Spiegel away.

HUNTER
Dallesandro, I'll have those
papers now.

Dallesandro gathers up an armload of random papers, throws
them at Hunter.

DALLESANDRO
Here. You happy? Search the
whole damn boat. You won't find
a thing.

And the surprise is, Hunter just lets them flutter to the
deck.

McCALL
It's all right. We already found
what we came for. We wanted to
know if you're involved. And you
are plenty.

DALLESANDRO
Involved in what?

HUNTER
Mister Dallesandro, we don't know
yet. But you've given us all the
confirmation we need. You're up
to something. When we find out
what that something is...we'll
be back.

And he turns on his heel and walks out.

McCALL
Have a nice day.

EXT. METRO DIVISION - ESTABLISHING - DAY

CAPT. WYLER'S VOICE
Bowling trophy...Gold monogrammed
glasses...Antique Art Deco mirror...

INT. CAPTAIN WYLER'S OFFICE

The carnage has begun. CLOSE ON a pair of brilliantly
gleaming black men's shoes, as CAMERA TILTS UP to reveal
the Captain himself as he lays a form on his desk very
slowly, almost as if drowning a favorite kitten.

CAPTAIN WYLER
And a priceless stuffed alligator
named Mister Mouse?

ANGLE WIDENS Co reveal Hunter on the carpet before him.

HUNTER
A gift from Sergeant McCall's
grandmother, rest her soul. It's
all in there, sir.

CAPTAIN WYLER
You're actually requesting that
the department reimburse her for
a stuffed alligator?

HUNTER
Yes, sir.

CAPTAIN WYLER
Why?

HUNTER
Well, to McCall, sir, that alligator
is irreplacable. But these losses
did occur in the line of duty, and
according to Section thirty-six of
the procedure manual --

The dam bursts

CAPTAIN WYLER
Sergeant, don't you quote procedure
to me. A guard dead. A hooker
murdered. Some Merc visits McCall
-- a shoot-'em-up and he's dead.
You know damn well it's illegal for
a cop to take someone to his or her
home under those circumstances.

HUNTER
It wasn't a bust --it was an
interview. McCall was just
talking to him.

CAPTAIN WYLER
Dressed like a hooker? What am
I supposed to tell the people of
this city?

HUNTER
(grimly)
Myself, I've always been partial
to the truth.

CAPTAIN WYLER
The truth? What truth? Some
wild fantasy about killer
mercenaries in cahoots with
Beverly Hills bankers?

Hunter just stares back, not giving an inch. This seems to
defuse Wyler a bit.

CAPTAIN WYLER
You're lucky you weren't killed.
You know that.

HUNTER
Sometimes I almost think you
give a damn.

Wyler, uncomfortable with the emotion, shies away from it.

CAPTAIN WYLER
Sergeant, just because we're one
big happy family doesn't mean I
like ugly children.

OMITTED

INT. SQUAD ROOM

Hunter storming toward his desk with a head of stored-up
steam as a couple Detectives escort in a cuffed and
streetwise SCREWBALL.

SCREWBALL
(a real scream)
Thieves! Robbers! I'm warning
you -- I'm placing you under
citizen's arrest! I'll take you all
the way to the Supreme Court!
They know what kind of crooks
you are! You have the right
to remain silent, you have the
right to an attorney --

During the above, McCall has appeared, making a bee line
toward Hunter. She raises her voice to help drown out
Screwball.

McCALL
Hunter!

HUNTER
Forget the trophies, forget the
reimbursement. It's not going
to happen for you, McCall.

Her voice raises in insistence, even as Screwball is being
hustled out of scene.

McCALL
(louder)
But Hunter --

HUNTER
Old Mister Mouse ears, he's
history. I'm sorry. We'll have
a small funeral, nothing garish.
Maybe a pine box, a couple of
chicken bones for the afterlife
-- I forget, do stuffed alligators
boogie on chicken bones?

ANOTHER ANGLE

The Screwball, wheeling to answer, then thinks better of it.
He gives Hunter a fearful look and hurries his escort
along.

McCALL
(louder still)
Hunter, will you shut up and
listen? I've just finished
talking to Vice --

HUNTER
Would you keep it down before
my mother hears you?

McCALL
(a shout now)
It's confirmed -- not a single
one of the stolen drugs has ever
hit the streets!

HUNTER
McCall, that's important. Why
didn't you tell me before?

She shakes her head in total exasperation, unsure if he's
just putting her on.

McCALL
It's totally weird, Hunter.

HUNTER
It's not weird. It's just plain
...certifiable. Where did you
say that list of drugs was?

She helps him plough through his cluttered desktop until
She finds a coffee-stained typewritten list.

McCALL
(reading)
Let's see...Codeine, morphine,
amyl butyl nitrate, amphetamines,
barbituates, tetramine --

She halts abruptly, puzzled.

HUNTER
Tetramine? What in the name of
Pete is tetramine?

He snatches up the phone.

OMITTED

INT. MORGUE - DAY

A tuba resting against the wall. A covered body on a
gurney with toe tag. And CARLOS, the happy body pusher,
pausing at a wall phone.

CARLOS
(into phone)
Shot up -- LeClaire? What do you
mean shot up?

3B INT. SQUAD ROOM

Hunter and McCall, who's pressed against the receiver
straining to listen in.

HUNTER
(into phone)
What about drugs? Any evidence that
he was using?

99 INTERCUT AS NEEDED

CARLOS
Drugs? The man died of bullet
holes. Lots of bullet holes.
Not drugs.

HUNTER
That's not what I mean, Carlos.
Was there anything in his system
besides lead?

CARLOS
Hunter, the M.E. didn't even
bother to look.

HUNTER
Then answer me this. Have you
ever heard of a drug called
tetramine?

CARLOS
You know, it's like you're becoming
a ghoul. One week it's rapists and
deep sea divers, the next it's weird
drugs.

HUNTER
Come Monday I was thinking about
preying on morgue attendants.

CARLOS
(ignoring him)
Hey, if it's excitement you want, we
had this dilly of a D.B. we pulled
outta Lake Casitas, looked like a
beached whale --

HUNTER
Carlos, tetramine. What is it?

CARLOS
Look, I'm just the body pusher,
remember? Why you always picking
on me?

HUNTER
'Cause you don't hang up on me --
and 'cause you got this headful of
really useless information.

CARLOS
Well guess what, sucker? I know
tetramine. They used to prescribe
it for high blood pressure.

HUNTER
What kind of street high is that?

CARLOS
Hunter, you're the Dick Tracy. I'm
the guy who hangs out at the morgue.

McCALL
(to Hunter)
Ask him if it has any uses besides
blood pressure.

HUNTER
(to Carlos)
Did you catch that?

CARLOS
Hey, is that Dee Dee? Say 'hi' to
that little vixen.

HUNTER
(off McCall's look)
Hi little vixen...Does it have any
other effects at all?

CARLOS
Yeah, if you count side effects.
That's why.
(grins)
You'd have to be a masochist to
take it.

HUNTER
Say that again?

CARLOS
Well, give somebody about three
times too much and it won't kill
him, but you'll get some nice
chest pains and somebody playing
soccer-ball with your heart rate.

HUNTER
Soccer ball? Carlos, would you
quit being so darn technical?

CARLOS
(each word said
distinctly)
Okay. Under the right conditions,
tetramine will give you the symptoms
of a severe heart attack.

INT. SQUAD ROOM

Hunter and McCall exchanging a hard look as Hunter grabs
the phone.

HUNTER
That's it, McCall. That's the
connection between Dallesandro and
Hawken...

Hunter grabs the phone, hurriedly punches a number.

HUNTER
(continued; into
receiver)
This is Hunter. Give me the
number of the warden's office at
Terminal Island...

OMITTED

ANGLE

Several Detectives we've seen before are beginning to
gather.

HUNTER

wheeling in his chair. He's made his phone connection.

HUNTER
(into receiver)
Warden --? Sergeant Rick Hunter.
Can you do a quick cell check on a
prisoner named Charley Hawken?

WARDEN'S VOICE
(from phone)
But Sergeant, Mister Hawken
just suffered a heart attack. He's
being transported to Beach View
General.

INT. SQUAD ROOM

Hunter and McCall: a single, horrified thought.

McCALL
It's going down.

Hunter charging toward the office behind him.

HUNTER
Captain Wyler--!

EXT. INDUSTRIAL STREET - DAY

A three-car jail convoy moves briskly along. CAMERA HOLDS
on the middle vehicle, an ambulance.

INT. AMBULANCE (MOVING)

The guard Driver, another Guard riding shotgun. Wary eyes
trained on the outside world, but it's all routine.
They're clearly not expecting anything. A Prison Doctor
is bent over the grimacing form of CHARLEY HAWKEN.

OMITTED

INT. LEAD CAR (MOVING) - DAY

Both occupants are guards, armed and watchful. Suddenly
they react to a sight just ahead:

ANGLE - AT FIVE-TON TRUCK
barreling out of an alley to block their path.

INT. LEAD CAR
The Driver slamming the brakes in a panic stop, but:

EXT. STREET

The lead car comes to-a SCREECHING halt at the truck. It
sets off a chain reaction of SQUEALING brakes, of the
grinding CRUNCH of metal on metal as the other cars climb
bumpers.

EXT. TRUCK

Pouring out the alien shock of two bug-faced Mercs in gas
masks. FIRING point blank into the lead car with a smoke
grenade. The other Merc BLASTING AWAY with a Mac-11
machine gun, his intent to disable rather than maim.

EXT. LEAD CAR

The front windshield exploding in a shower of glass. Tire
blowing. Smoke pouring out -- the occupants coughing and
choking.

EXT. STREET - FROM ANOTHER ANGLE

Aa car and vanload of Mercs scream up, FIRING away with
jungle weapons and tear gas rifles. Smoke thickening, more
tires blowing. The Mercs springing on Guards, throwing
them on their bellies and disabling them.

ANGLE - SECOND MERC (AT TRUCK)

vauling onto the hood of the lead car, he FIRES a smoke
grenade into the ambulance.

INT. AMBULANCE

Its windshield exploding. The Driver, overcome by the
concussion and smoke. The Doctor, huddled over his patient
Hawken, collapses into a coughing fit.

FULL SHOT

The other Mercs securing the area. Shooting out the back
windshield of the trailing car. The ambulance light bar
shot to hell.

OMITTED

EXT. AMBULANCE
The door bursts open.

INT. AMBULANCE

as two Mercs enter. We might recognize one of them as
Zajak in his jungle-green cami makeup. His second shoves
aside the frightened Doctor. Zajak rips the IV from
Hawken as he grabs him.

ZAJAK

Come on -- you're not sick. That
stuff wears off in fifteen minutes.
Move it!

Zajak swiftly helping him out.

ANGLE - THE MERCS

Zajak and the others lift Hawken inside the van,
covering him with an Army jacket. They slam the door shut
behind them. The others pouring into the second getaway
car. The SQUEAL of tires and both vehicles are gone in a
swirl of smoke.

EXT. STREET

The Doctor, staggering through the holocaust- of fire and
smoke to assist the gasping and disarmed Guards.

EXT. INDUSTRIAL ZONE - HUNTER'S CAR - DAY
Some distance away, charging to the scene.

INT. HUNTER'S CAR (MOVING)

Hunter and McCall grim, not daring to think what they
might find.

THEIR POV (THROUGH WINDSHIELD)

The awesome destruction. A black-and-white pulled up, its
gumball still whirling.

EXT. STREET - HUNTER'S CAR

Hunter and McCall have spilled out almost before the car
has stopped. Two Uniforms. One giving oxygen to the
doctor and guards, the other eyeballing the scene trying
restore order. talking m.o.s. into a radio mike.

HUNTER
Did you get here in time? Could
you see where they went?

UNIFORM
Sorry...we just got the call.

HUNTER
Well is there an airstrip nearby
-- somewhere they can fly out of
here?

UNIFORM
(pointing)
Try about three and-a-half miles
that way. At the east end of
the old Sol Oil Fields.

With that, Hunter wheels and heads for the waiting sedan.
McCall piles in beside him.

INT. HUNTER'S CAR (MOVING)

Hunter floors it.

McCALL
Hunter, there's also a coastline
a couple miles away. Maybe they
have a boat waiting.

HUNTER
Maybe. But a plane is quick and
safe -- and it's only a hundred
miles to the Mexican border. It's
a chance we've got to take...

EXT. STREET
And the sedan vanishes into the distance as we:

FADE OUT

END OF ACT THREE

*************************************************************

ACT FOUR

FADE IN

OMITTED

EXT. REMOTE ROAD - DAY

A black Citation jet is parked on this makeshift landing
strip, its pilot and co-pilot visible inside the cockpit.
Both wearing flak jackets and full military outfits.
Anxiously waiting beside the craft, Thomas Dallesandro.
From off, the SQUEAL of approaching cars. He looks over.

NEW ANGLE

The two Merc getaway vehicles skidding and fishtailing up,
stopping beside the Citation. Zajak bailing out with his
commandoes much of his green jungle makeup now sweated
off. He's slipped on a bandillero of bullets and he's
carrying an M-60. Charley Hawken piling out of the van
with the Mercs, almost fully recovered. The effects of
the heart pills obviously having been temporary.

ZAJAK
Move it -- get in the jet --
hurry...

Dallesandro rushes over to Hawken as Zajak and his men
pile aboard.

DALLESANDRO
(to Charley)
Charley, you all right? How do
you feel?

Hawken just holds his aching head. But Dallesandro
knows he's fine. He grins, slaps him on the back and
guides Charley up the ramp.

ANGLE - HUNTER'S CAR
racing to the Citation, SIREN SCREAMING.

INT. LEAK COCKPIT

The Pilot glancing black in reaction to the approaching
threat. The rising whine of the plane turns Co a steady
ROAR as he guns the turbines to escape.

INT. HUNTER'S CAR (MOVING)

McCall hangs on as Hunter pushes the pedal all the way to
the floor. In the distance, a chain link fence separates
them from the Lear. But there's no way to go around in
time.

EXT. RUNWAY

The Citation beginning to taxi.

EXT. BACK ROAD

Two more black-and-whites coming up behind Hunter at high
speed.

OMITTED

LA EXT. OPEN FIELD - AT FENCE

The chain link barricade only yards away.

ANGLE - HUNTER'S CAR

Heading straight for it.

OMITTED

INT. HUNTER'S CAR (MOVING)

McCall holding the radio mike, but she stops cold, tenses
before the certain impact.

HUNTER
Hold on!

EXT. FIELD

Hunter's car rips out the fence, driving it back against
the windshield. The car shudders and keeps on speeding
ahead. The force of the wind tears the fence away and
they're running free.

EXT. CITATION
gathering speed. It's just under 25 mph by now.

INT. HUNTER'S CAR (MOVING)
McCall with the radio mike.

HUNTER
Tell those units to move it --
we've got to stop that plane
before it gets airborne.

McCALL
And if the pilot doesn't want to
stop?

HUNTER
McCall, the idea is to make him
stop.

EXT. LANDING STRIP

The Citation's speed increasing, its turbine SCREAMING
louder.

OMITTED

EXT. HUNTER'S CAR

swinging next to the Citation on its port side.

INT. HUNTER'S CAR (MOVING)

Hunter fighting for control over the bumpy road, yanking
the wheel hard right and hard left while still pouring on
the coals. It ain't easy.

HUNTER
Get the gun, McCall. Now!

She positions a riot gun through the open passenger window,
the wind tearing at her face. She FIRES. The shot goes
wild. SIRENS approaching from behind.

ANGLE - BLACK-AND-WHITES

playing tag at the rear of the craft. The Uniforms inside
firing riot guns and service revolvers at its backside.

EXT. AIRSTRIP

Hunter's car falling slightly behind as the Citation
picks up speed. It's a footrace. Another SHOT by McCall.
The shot wide.

OMITTED

INT. CITATION (MOVING)

A Merc grabs his rifle, starts to crash it out with the
butt. Zajak grabs his arm.

ZAJAK
You crazy? We'll never get
airborne.

EXT. HUNTER'S CAR

bucking on the jagged road.

HUNTER
Do it again...Hurry!

McCall takes careful aim. FIRES.

EXT. AIRSTRIP

It's futile. The Citation pulling farther ahead.

INT. HUNTER'S CAR (MOVING)

It's now or never. They both know it. McCall takes aim
one last time -- and squeezes the trigger.

EXT. CITATION - ON PORT ENGINE

A BLAST from her riot gun and thick, white smoke begins to
billow out of the engine.

EXT. LANDING STRIP

The Citation skidding and slowing to a halt, crippled by
McCall's shot. It turns slightly and dies.

NEW ANGLE

Hunter and the two Uniform teams have pulled their cars up
parallel to the Citation's closed door. They have gotten
out and lean over the hoods, guns drawn, waiting for the
explosive burst of weaponry through the windows. There is
none. Only silence.

CLOSE - AT CITATION DOOR
It sighs open -- to reveal emptiness.

HUNTER AND McCALL

exchanging an uneasy look. On this windswept road it's
very still.

INT. CITATION
But it's only momentary. Zajak has ushered his men aside,
with the exception of Ulrica. In each hand he's holding a
smoke bomb. He pulls the pins, counts to three, and tosses
them out.

EXT. AT COP BARRICADE
The bombs explode. Smoke beginning to spew out.

ULRICH - INSIDE CITATION
lobbing another canister.

FULL SHOT

The volume of smoke is tremendous and blinding. But through
the haze we make out Zajak and Ulrich charging down the
steps and scattering. Hunter and McCall charge one way, the
four cops run end around as they try to outflank the enemy.
Hands covering mouths as they choke on the smoke.

ULRRICH

pausing a moment to get his bearings. The smoke clears
somewhat. He's a sitting duck.

HUNTER
Police -- hold it right there!

WIDEN

as Ulrich FIRES. Hunter RETURNS FIRE with hit riot gun and
blows Ulrich down. He lays clutching a broken leg.
Through the smoky haze, the Mercs stumble down the ramp,
covered by the Uniforms. Both pilots, Dallesandro and
Hawken among them. But still no sign of Zajak. Hunter
has only one thing on his mind:

HUNTER
Where the heck is Zajak?

He angrily fights through the billowing smoke, charging
into the Citation with gun drawn. McCall tucks in behind
as backup.

INT. CITATION
Hunter searches. Zajak has seemingly vanished.

EXT. CITATION

Hunter comes gasping out, shaking his head in confusion.
No Zajak. Hunter runs to McCall.

He indicates a Uniform.

HUNTER
Take one of those guys and make
absolutely sure he's not hiding
somewhere inside.

She nods, hurries away. Hunter, glancing across the hazy
landscape for Zajak, is pissed and frustrated. Hunter
finds Dallesandro who's being hauled up in cuffs by a
Uniform.

HUNTER
Where is he?

DALLESANDRO
He was the first one out and he
ran toward those oil fields.
I hope to hell you find him.

OMITTED

HUNTER

he jumps into the N.D. sedan and heads toward the fields,
passing McCall - She looks up to see who the wild driver
is.

McCALL
Hunter...!

She follows the car with concerned eyes.

McCALL
Why do I think he's about to do
something rash?...

OMITTED

INT. HUNTER'S CAR (MOVING)
Hunter careening past storage buildings, farther and
farther from the Citation, when:

POV - THROUGH WINDSHIELD

Zajak sprinting along with the M-60 toward the oil fields.
He's some distance away. Hunter steps on the gas.

ZAJAK

having heard the car, he turns to regard the threat. He
sees it's Hunter. He smiles, plants himself so firmly that
neither heaven nor hell can move him, and swings up the
M-60 and starts BLASTING AWAY non-stop as bullets pour from
the belt feed.

THE SHOWDOWN

Hunter speeding toward the s.o.b. He ducks down inside
the sedan, his foot all the way to the metal. Dash parts
flying out. Steam rising from his bullet-ridden engine. The
bumper FIRING, and Hunter just keeps coming. Until it's
point-blank range. Hunter or Zajak. Zajak aims -- and
Hunter runs-him down.

EXT. HUNTER'S CAR

it grinds to a halt. Hunter staggers out to find Zajak
lying at his feet. This time, he won't ever get up again.

OMITTED

McCALL

slamming out of the Black and White, she's alone. She
stares at Hunter searchingly.

McCALL
Hunter, are you hurt? You don't
look so good.

HUNTER
Who cares...This time the good
guys finally won the war.

The flash of a smile across his dirt-streaked face.

FULL SHOT

McCall and Hunter, hanging onto each other and begin to
walk back toward the Black and whites, as we:

FADE OUT

END OF ACT FOUR

FADE IN

OMITTED

INT. COFFEE SHOP - NEXT DAY

The vinyl coziness we've visited earlier. At a wall phone,
Hunter wearily hangs up the receiver. A little worse for
wear after the Merc wars. And clearly, what he just heard
wasn't good news.

INT BOOTH

McCall torturing a dead egg around her plate. Hunter's
bowl of fiber food waiting for its owner.. She looks up
expectantly as he rejoins her.

HUNTER

That was the Captain...Absolutely
no chance, McCall. He says you
broke the law in taking that creep
home and the City's not going to
reimburse you for it.

McCall blows like an overheated engine.

McCALL
I'll sue! That does it -- they're
not going to get away with this!

HUNTER
McCall --

McCALL
I don't care. They want to get
tough with me? Good -- take a
number! Smash a window! Rip the
drapes. Blow up the whole house!
Only somebody's going to pay --

HUNTER
(louder)
McCall --

McCALL
You hear me? It was my duty. I
didn't have a choice! If I
didn't bring that creep home we
wouldn't have Hawken and the
case closed and Zajak and Dallesandro
and all those Mercs, they'd be on
a jet --

HUNTER
(full blast)
McCall! Why are you yelling at
me? I'm not the city! You re
not suing me, McCall! If it was
up to me, I'd pay you -- I really
would!

McCall just looks at him. And the longer she looks the
funnier he looks...until she's cracking a smile, which
turns into laughter until the tears roll off their cheeks.
And we:

FADE OUT

THE END

Something missing here??? You bet there is! Interestingly enough, an earlier draft ended like this (there's a page missing, but you get the idea)...

Hunter and McCall exchange a battle-weary look. So this is
how it's going to be. Hunter reaches back, slams it shut.
Wyler doesn't even look up from his paperwork.

CAPTAIN WYLER
You know, you two, I've been
getting a lot of flak about your
escapades with those Mercs --

That does it.

HUNTER
And you know what you can tell
those Bozos to do with it?

Wyler looks up, startled.

HUNTER
No, I'm serious. This time it's
my turn. We put it on the line
out there and almost get it blown
off.

McCALL
(low)
Watch out, partner.

CAPTAIN WYLER
Look, would you shut up and listen
to me --

McCall, trying to guide Hunter out the door before it's too
late. But he won't be guided.

HUNTER
(cutting in)
And I don't give a damn what
anybody thinks because I'm a
garbage man and that's what I am
and I can go to sleep at night
knowing that I clean up the
streets for the rest of the Bozos.

CAPTAIN WYLER
All right! I'm on your side! I
hear you! I may even recommend
you for a medal. Now take this
and get out of here!

He thrusts a sack at McCall.

HUNTER
What is it?

CAPTAIN WYLER
A -- replacement.

McCall opens the sack to reveal the ear-to-ear smiling
likeness of a stuffed toy alligator -- seemingly identical
to the one whose head got blown off by advancing Merc
troops.

HUNTER
Mister Mouse...

McCall, staring at it. A long, embarrassed silence.
Hunter doesn't know what to say. Wyler, too, is looking
away. His earlier gruffness obviously hiding a very human
core.

HUNTER,
Captain -- that's all you wanted
to tell us? Why, it's wonderful.
Isn't it wonderful, McCall?

But now it's McCall's turn to add insult to injury.
Slowly, she shakes her head.

McCALL
It's not Mister Mouse.

CAPTAIN WYLER
Well, of course it's not the
exact same one.

McCALL
Look at his tail -- Mister Mouse
never had a tail like that. And
those pointy teeth...

CAPTAIN WYLER
Forget it, McCall. It was just a
thought.

McCALL
And those eyes. Mister Mouse
always had shoe button eyes ever
since --

CAPTAIN WYLER
Sergeant, I said forget it! Don't
you people have anything better
to do than to stand around my
office, playing with some stupid
toy?

And he slams the gator back into his lower desk drawer as
Hunter and McCall make their escape.

McCALL
(to Hunter as they
go)
He s not even the right green.

Hunter regards her fondly, more than a little amused.

HUNTER
Don't worry, I'll take you to the
zoo. You can even tap on the glass
in the reptile house.

Wyler, alone in his office, sits glowering for a moment or
two, then yanks open the drawer to find the alligator
staring up at him. He reaches down and pats its head, for
a moment lost in a faraway past.

And we:

FADE OUT

THE END

(Okay, so who thinks the way the episode really ended is a
huge improvement over these?)