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Burn Notice Transcripts

BURN NOTICE

1x03: Fight or Flight

Original Airdate: 7/12/2007

Written by: Craig S. O'Neill

Directed by: Colin Bucksey

Transcribed by Rahul and hosted by TVTDB.com


[Opening Montage.]


[Michael stands on the pavement in Warri, Nigeria, in the hot sun.]

{My name is Michael Westen.}

[He cocks a gun in the restroom.]
[He runs.]
[He's on a bike, pursued by guys firing at him from a sedan.]

{I used to be a spy until...}

[He listens in barely-concealed shock to the man on the phone.]
MAN: [from phone] We got a burn notice on you. You're blacklisted.

[Dressed as a messenger, he whistles.]
[As he walks down a street, he grimaces in pain (due to a couple of broken ribs).]

{When you're burned, you've got nothing.}

[Shot of his accounts statement on the computer ("Accounts Frozen"). He checks his cell phone as e gets off a bus.]

{No cash, no credit, no job history.}

[He manages to pull himself onto a plane. The plane takes off.]
[In a Miami motel room, he sits up groggily in bed, shirtless, while Fiona Glenanne sits nearby.]

{You're stuck in whatever city they decide to dump you in.}

MICHAEL WESTEN: Where am I?
FIONA GLENANNE: Miami.

[Shot of Miami Beaches.]
[At night, in his loft, he assembles a fake bomb.]
[He leans back and nearly falls off a small chair.]
[A car blows up in the night.]
[He and Sam Axe stand in front of a car.]
[He takes pictures from inside his car.]
[He laughs.]

{You do whatever work comes your way. You rely on anyone who's still talking to you...}

[Fiona cocks a 12-gauge shotgun inside Sam's car.]
[She kisses Michael outside his loft.]

{A trigger-happy ex-girlfriend.}

[He and Fiona have dinner in a Chinese Restaurant.]
FIONA GLENANNE: Should we shoot them?

[Sam smiles at Michael as he suns himself.]
[Sam walks, wearing sunglasses.]
[He holds a tape recorder to the phone.]

{A friend who's informing on you to the Feds.}

[He and Axe Sam talk in a caféeacute;.]
SAM AXE: You know spies. Bunch of bitchy little girls.

{And family, too.}

[Michael looks at his ringing cell phone, as Sam sits behind.]
SAM AXE: Hey, is that your mom again?
[Michael hangs up.]
[His mom, Madeline, smiles.]

{... if you're desperate.}

[At home, Madeline speaks to Michael.]
MADELINE WESTEN: Someone needs your help, Michael.

[Michael exits a mansion.]

{Bottom line - until you figure out who burned you...

[He looks through a cracked glass.]
[He moves out-of-sight behind a wall.]

{... you're not going anywhere.}





CUT TO:

[Hotel. Day. Camera holds on a "Developing Nations Economic Summit" board outside. People in fancy cars pull up to the hotel, the valets always around to greet them.]

{International conferences attract spies for the same reason hotel bars attract hookers. You can do business and drink for free.}

[A short distance away, Michael and Fiona sit in a car, watching the proceedings in the hotel. Fiona looks at the rear-view mirror and sees the FBI guys tailing Michael, in their car, watching them through binoculars.]

FIONA GLENANNE: looks like your FBI tail found us. Should we call this off?

MICHAEL WESTEN: [looks back, exhales in annoyance] No. Keep the engine running. I'll try to make this quick.

[Fiona exposes her left thigh, where a gun is strapped to a holster. She starts to undo the straps.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Fi, this is not an armored assault.

FIONA GLENANNE: What, do you think they're just gonna give you a list of covert operatives coming to this conference?

MICHAEL WESTEN: All I need is a name. Somebody in Miami who can get me the Homeland Security directive that burned me. One name.

[He gets out of the car.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: I don't need a gun for that.

FIONA GLENANNE: You're no fun, Michael.

[He shuts the car door and walks to the hotel.]

[In the hotel lobby, he strolls calmly.]

{Any high-security function is going to have a lot of oversight, a lot of meetings, a lot of bureaucrats checking up on each other.}

[He goes over to a desk and speaks to one of the organizers.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Remember I forgot my badge. The security office is...?

[The organizer points to her right.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Right.

[He walks towards the security office.]

{In all the confusion of the big event, it's easy for another bureaucrat to just... show up.}

[He enters the office, where a meeting is underway.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [sounding official] Security brief, right? Sorry.

[Grinning widely, he reaches over to the table and picks up a folder. The speaker (the Head of Security) frowns at the intrusion, but continues.]

HEAD OF SECURITY: Anyway, we're, uh, concentrating our efforts on crowd control if we get protestors.

[Michael looks through the folder for familiar faces.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [looks at the HoS] Sounds good.

HEAD OF SECURITY: Excuse me. Which office are you with?

MICHAEL WESTEN: I'm an interdepartmental liaison.

[Michael finds a familiar face - an Egyptian guy named Akhom Thabet. He makes a mental note of it and turns to the HoS.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: They wanted me to come down, make sure we're up to speed on everything you guys are doing. Looks like things are under control. Is there anything you need from us support-wise?

[The HoS tries to get a word in edgewise, but Michael keeps talking.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Okay, then, well, you let us know If there's anything you want us to coordinate on our end.

[Michael walks out the door. The HoS looks at his people in confusion.]

{The important thing is to disappear before people can ask questions.}

[Michael walks coolly towards the exits, when two guys in suits, walk up behind him.]

SECURITY OFFICER: 'Scuse me, sir. Sir! 'Scuse me.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [busted] Great.

[He breaks into a run.]

SECURITY OFFICER: Hey!

[The security guys run after him. Michael runs through a fire door, into a service room.]

{If they do decide to ask questions, you just have to hope you're in a building with a lot of hallways, a good service basement, and plenty of exits.}

[He tries the first exit, but the door doesn't budge.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Locked.

[He tries another door, but to no avail.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: This is a fire hazard.

[He runs for another one, with the two security officers hot on his trail.]

SECURITY OFFICER: Sir!

[He finally manages to get one door open and runs inside. He climbs up a flight of stairs.]

SECURITY OFFICER: Sir! Stop!

[Michael comes out on a first-floor terrace and runs up to the edge, looking down. He sees a hard concrete floor below.]

{But in the end, sometimes making an escape is just about being willing to do what the guy chasing you won't.}

[He jumps.]

{Like jump off a building.}

[The sound of Michael landing on the concrete is heard.]

[Camera holds on the spot from where Michael jumped off.]


CUT TO:

[Opening Title.]


CUT TO:

[Stock footage of Miami. Day.]


CUT TO:

[Michael's Loft. Day. Michael enters, limping and mad. Fiona relaxes on his bed.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [complaining] I just walked two miles with a twisted ankle. What happened to "keep the car running"?

[He goes to the refrigerator to get some ice for his ankle.]

FIONA GLENANNE: [correcting] The stolen car, Michael. Your Feds were getting curious. I had a gun in the car. Our little mission was in danger of being compromised, so I returned to base.

MICHAEL WESTEN: And broke in again.

FIONA GLENANNE: I think our little post-operation debriefing has taught us that you need a car and I need a key to your apartment.

[Sitting, he applies an ice-pack to his ankle.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: A key? Aren't you more comfortable breaking in?

FIONA GLENANNE: What is your problem with me having a key, Michael?

MICHAEL WESTEN: I don't want anyone to have a key to my place. It's a security issue.

FIONA GLENANNE: Right. And your problem with car ownership? You prefer the bus? Urine-scented transportation is more secure?

MICHAEL WESTEN: I don't even know where to get a car. My assets are frozen. I don't even have a driver's license.

FIONA GLENANNE: I spoke to your mom. Apparently, you have a car. Your father's old, uh... what is it?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Charger. Not interested. What are you doing talking to my mom?

FIONA GLENANNE: We chat. You know what I think? I think a car is commitment. I think you're afraid to be tied down.

[Michael throws his head back in irritation.]


CUT TO:

[Outside Michael's Loft. Day. Michael works on the lock that Fiona did a number on. His landlord comes up.]

OLEG: You have problem with the lock?

MICHAEL WESTEN: More like a problem with boundaries.

OLEG: Apartment is good for you, yes?

[Just to recap, he is...]
OLEG
THE LANDLORD

MICHAEL WESTEN: _Apartment_ is good.

OLEG: Yeah, club is good, too, but all this competition, though. Many problems.

MICHAEL WESTEN: What do you need, Oleg?

OLEG: I have a waitress, Cara, knows my regulars. On a good night, half of my business is from her. But for a week now, she doesn't come to work.

MICHAEL WESTEN: You don't want me filling in for her, trust me.

OLEG: No, I need her, but she's scared to leave her house. Someone threatened her, maybe boyfriend.

MICHAEL WESTEN: What do you want me to do?

OLEG: I think maybe you can help. You got rid of the drug dealer next door, so I think maybe it's no problem for you, huh?

[Michael doesn't look all that much interested in the job.]

OLEG: Look, you take care of this, I give you free rent for [holds up two fingers] two months, yes?

MICHAEL WESTEN: [thinks, holds up four fingers] Four months, da?

OLEG: [nods agreeably] Okay.

MICHAEL WESTEN: I'll talk to her.


CUT TO:

[Stock footage of Miami. Day.]


CUT TO:

[Stagner Residence. Day. Michael visits Oleg's waitress (30s, attractive) in her apartment.]

OLEG'S WAITRESS: So, you work for Oleg.

[She brings him a cup of coffee.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: We have an arrangement. I'm here to see if I can help.

OLEG'S WAITRESS: So, a couple weeks ago, I was driving home from work -

[He takes a sip of the coffee and grimaces at the taste.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [disgusted] Ohh.

OLEG'S WAITRESS: [taking the cup, apologetically] Oh. Recycled grounds.

[She is...]
CARA
THE CLIENT

CARA STAGNER: I haven't been out to the store in more than a week. I haven't been anywhere.

MICHAEL WESTEN: It's fine. Uhh, so, what exactly is the situation? Do you know who's threatening you?

CARA STAGNER: Kind of. A couple weeks ago, I was driving home after work, around three, and I saw this pizza-delivery guy rear-end this gold Lexus. The guy in the Lexus pulled this poor kid out of the car and started pounding him with this steering-wheel lock. I got the license-plate number, and I called the cops.

MICHAEL WESTEN: So you're the only witness.

CARA STAGNER: Yeah. The pizza-delivery kid is on life support, so it's just me. The next week, I get home, and there's a rat nailed to my door. So I went to the police. Y'know, I figured that they could protect me, right and they're like, "we'll send some patrols by". Meanwhile, there are these scary guys coming around my work, and somebody's hanging around Sophie's school, wanting to know where we live, and...

[Michael picks up a framed picture and looks at it.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [holds up the picture] Sophie?

CARA STAGNER: Yeah.

[She calls into the other room.]

CARA STAGNER: Sophie! [softly to Michael] This has been really hard on her, being cooped up in this little house for so long.

[Cara's teenage daughter enters.]

CARA STAGNER: Sophie, um, this is Michael.

[She is...]
SOPHIE
THE DAUGHTER

CARA STAGNER: Um... he's a... [to Michael] what are you, exactly?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Someone Oleg thought could help.

SOPHIE STAGNER: So, are you going to help or what?

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





CUT TO:

[Outside Michael's Loft. Day. Fiona sits on the stairs leading to the loft, eating from a plate. Michael comes outside, carrying another plate for himself.]

FIONA GLENANNE: [eating, mouth full] This is good.

MICHAEL WESTEN: It's a Persian recipe.

[He sits down next to her.]

FIONA GLENANNE: You haven't cooked for me in a while. Years. What is it you want, Michael?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Listen, Fi, if I show up at that hotel, now that the conference has started, I'll set off every alarm there is. I need your help. There's a delegate I need to talk to. Akhom Thabet.

FIONA GLENANNE: He's a friend?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Not exactly. I saved his life a while back. He owes me.

FIONA GLENANNE: You want me to track down an Egyptian spy, and in return, I get what? This meal? It's tasty, but... [sucks in air, as if to say "it's-not-enough".]

MICHAEL WESTEN: You want me to ask my mom for the car.

[She smiles at him.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: I'll ask my mom for the car.


CUT TO:

[Madeline's House. Day. Michael comes up to the front door and enters.]

{Asking my mom for anything is a lot like getting a favor from a Russian mob boss. They'll give you what you want with a smile, but, believe me, you'll pay for it.}

[Madeline is behind the kitchen counter, smoking and working on something with a knife. He waves the knife at him when she sees him.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: What're you doing, mom?

MADELINE WESTEN: Making a salad. I'm getting healthy.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Does the recipe call for cigarette ash?

MADELINE WESTEN: One mountain a day, Michael. That's what my Yoga teacher said.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Uh, you never leave the house. Where're you meeting Yogis?

MADELINE WESTEN: I bought a Yoga DVD on the Home Shopping Network.

[He looks outside.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: That's great. [deep breath] Listen... [exhales] I need the car. The Charger.

[Madeline looks up in surprise and turns to him.]

MADELINE WESTEN: [overjoyed] Oh, Michael, that's wonderful! Your father always wanted you to have something to remember him by.

[She opens a drawer and starts to rummage for the keys.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [pointing to the scar under his eye] Oh, I have this to remember him by.

MADELINE WESTEN: I remember what fun you two had, always working on cars in the garage.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Fun? I remember him making me fake a seizure at Mr. Goodwrench so he could steal spark plugs. I remember him quitting every project early and handing me a to-do list to finish the job for him.

[She finds the keys.]

MADELINE WESTEN: [beams proudly] And look at you now, Michael. So many things you can do. [holds the keys out to him] Here, honey.

[Reluctantly, he takes the keys.]


CUT TO:

[Madeline's Garage. Day. Michael pulls back the dusty plastic sheet, covering the black car. He looks at the Charger.]

{My father's approach to machinery was similar to his approach to his family.}

[He sits inside the car, inspecting it.]

{If you don't like how something works, keep banging on it 'til it does what you want. If something doesn't fit, force it. And above all, make sure it looks good on the outside.}

[He turns the key in the ignition, but it won't start. Giving up, he opens the glove compartment box and takes out a sheet of paper (a to-do list), on which names of different car parts are written. All but "SPARK-PLUGS" are scratched out.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Spark plugs. Perfect.


CUT TO:

[Stock footage of Miami. Day.]


CUT TO:

[Bar. Day. A waitress serves Sam his drink. Michael sits at the table with him.]

SAM AXE: Thank you, Melinda. [to Michael] So, a babysitting gig? What? Are you that hard up for cash?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Hey, at least I've gotten an apartment.

SAM AXE: I'm working on that. I got a few irons in the fire. Hey, so, this, uh, this new job, you want some help? Maybe I could provide a little something. [punches his palm]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [nods] I already sent Fiona over to Cara's place.

SAM AXE: [disappointed] Aw, c'mon, Mike. You got a sexy cocktail waitress that needs protecting, and you send Fiona. What is she? Eighty pounds? Mike, come on.

[He pulls up his sleeve, exposing his biceps. He flexes it - not much of a bulge (at least not due to muscle).]

SAM AXE: Look at that. Guns of steel.

MICHAEL WESTEN: I'll tell you what. If there's a situation that requires showing off your upper body and boozy flirting, you're my guy.

SAM AXE: Oh, that's low.

MICHAEL WESTEN: I need you to have your cop buddies check on a license plate and get an address.

[He hands Sam a piece of paper with the info. Sam snatches it from him and looks at it.]

SAM AXE: Okay. Next time, I get the girl.


CUT TO:

[Stagner Residence. Day. The Cooking Channel is on. Cara, Sophie and Fiona watch as the enthusiastic presenter shares her kitchen secrets.]

PRESENTER: [on TV] So, I have one teaspoon of ground cumin seed.

CARA STAGNER: Ew, too much cumin.

FIONA GLENANNE: You cook?

CARA STAGNER: Used to. I was in chef school when I got pregnant. But I was failing out. I was nineteen, a mess. [affectionately putting her hand on Sophie's thigh] And then Sophie came along. She saved my life.

[Fiona smiles.]


CUT TO:

[Miami Street/Fredo's Bar. Day. Michael and Sam pull up at a parking space, a short distance from Fredo's Bar. Sam pulls a folded sheet of paper from his pocket, containing the information Michael requested.]

SAM AXE: All right, his name is Alvaro DeSantos.

[He points at a man sitting at a table outside the bar.]

SAM AXE: That's him there at the outdoor table. Want me to go in with you?

[Michael gets out of the car.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: No, you stay with the car. You get distracted in bars.

SAM AXE: Fair enough. Hey, if they have Dos Equis, just grab me a couple...

[Michael closes the door, cutting Sam off, and walks towards the bar.]

{Convincing a bully to back down is usually just a matter of showing you're not afraid of him.}

[Michael sits at DeSantos' table.]

ALVARO DESANTOS: Can I help you?

MICHAEL WESTEN: I think so. A friend of mine, Cara Stagner, she has a rat problem.

ALVARO DESANTOS: [smiles] And you come here? Sounds like she needs an exterminator.

[Recapping, he is...]
ALVARO DESANTOS
CARA'S PROBLEM

MICHAEL WESTEN: Little late for that. They're nailed to her door.

[DeSantos laughs.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: I want this to stop. Take your chances at trial. There are worse things than going to jail.

ALVARO DESANTOS: Oh, yes? What things?

[DeSantos' bodyguards step up menacingly to Michael, one of them pulling up his shirt, exposing a .357 magnum, tucked into his pants.]

{Of course, some bullies have guys with .357 magnums. Then you change tactics.}

MICHAEL WESTEN: There's no need for unpleasantness. I'm just trying to resolve this situation.

ALVARO DESANTOS: I'm happy that you come here. This "situation", as you call it, is going to be resolved within the hour.

[Michael doesn't like the sound of that. DeSantos sits forward and grabs Michael's hand on the table.]

ALVARO DESANTOS: By the time we finish our mojitos, this will all be done... for good.

[Michael jumps up, knocking over the table, pushing DeSantos back. He lands a hard chop to a bodyguard's neck, knocking him off-balance. Another bodyguard swings at him, but Michael wraps his arm around his upper body (under the armpit) and throws him towards the others. Sam drives up, keeping the engine running. Michael sprints towards the car and jumps inside the backseat door.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Go! Go! Go!

[Sam floors it and hightails it out of there.]


CUT TO:

[Stagner Residence. Day. The Cooking Channel is still on. The presenter still persists with the one teaspoon of cumin seeds. Fiona's phone rings. She answers it.]

FIONA GLENANNE: [into phone] Hello? How did it go?

MICHAEL WESTEN: [from phone] Fi, DeSantos has a hit squad on the way. You need to...

FIONA GLENANNE: [calmly, into phone] No worries.

[She hangs up and looks coolly at Cara and Sophie. She stands and addresses them.]

FIONA GLENANNE: Go in the bathroom, get in the tub, and stay down.

SOPHIE STAGNER: What?

FIONA GLENANNE: Be a sweetie. Do it before someone starts shooting.

[The word "shooting" kills further arguments. Cara and Sophie run towards the bathroom.

FIONA GLENANNE: [calls after them] Where's your liquor cabinet?

[Nearby, the hit squad (comprising two cars) drives along the street.]

[Having found Cara's well-stocked liquor cabinet, Fiona gets to work. She pours some alcohol on a rag.]

[The hit squad is on the way.]

[Fiona pushes the alcohol-soaked rag into the mouth of a bottle. She repeats the same for another rag and bottle. She lights a flame, smiling devilishly.]

[The hit squad turns a corner, near the apartment. Fiona runs outside to the balcony, brandishing the two homemade Molotov Cocktails, just as the cars pull up on the street below.]

{When faced with superior force, you can do two things. You can retreat quietly, or you can attack with as much fanfare as possible.}

[One of the hitmen looks outside.]

FIONA GLENANNE: Last call, boys!

[She hurls one Molotov towards them. The cocktail explodes into flame right in front of one of the cars. She chucks the other one, close the other car. Both cars take off. With a satisfied smile, she watches them run.]


CUT TO:

[Stagner Residence. Day. Michael looks outside the window at the street below. Sam and Fiona stand around.]

SAM AXE: How many were there?

FIONA GLENANNE: I don't know. Four? They took off after cocktail hour.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Fi, it looks like Fallujah down there.

FIONA GLENANNE: I was half hoping they'd stick around for a bit. Cara's got quite a liquor cabinet, good for a ten-hour siege.

[Cara comes out of the bathroom.]

CARA STAGNER: Michael.

MICHAEL WESTEN: You okay?

CARA STAGNER: Can't we just tell them I won't testify? I don't care.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Once they send guys to your house to kill you, they're past the "I-promise-not-to-tell" stage. We need to get them out of here.

SOPHIE STAGNER: Where are we going?

SAM AXE: You can't take them to your apartment. Cara works downstairs. They're gonna come looking.

[Michael closes his eyes, wishing he had a better choice.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [sighs] I know a place.


CUT TO:

[Stock footage of Miami. Day.]


CUT TO:

[Madeline's House. Day. On the TV, Michael watches two barechested men, sitting in a cross-legged pose, slowly lift their arms up, palms pressed against each other (Madeline's Yoga DVD). His mother speaks to him.]

MADELINE WESTEN: How long are they going to be here?

MICHAEL WESTEN: I'm not sure how long they'll be here. Maybe a few days?

MADELINE WESTEN: Why the garage, though? We have a very nice guest room.

MICHAEL WESTEN: I need to control access points. Trust me, it's better. This way, you can have the whole house. You can do your, uh... [points at the TV] Yoga.

MADELINE WESTEN: Michael, all these years, ever since your first background check, All those letters where you couldn't say where you were, I never asked questions. [demanding] Now I want to know what you're doing.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [softly] They're in danger, and I'm helping them, okay? Please, mom.

[She takes a drag off her cigarette and nods.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Thank you.

[He starts to walk off, but turns as she speaks.]

MADELINE WESTEN: Do something for me. Go see your father's grave. It would mean a lot to me.

MICHAEL WESTEN: I'll think about it.

[He smiles and leaves. She seems satisfied.]


CUT TO:

[Madeline's Garage. Day. Michael converts his mom's garage into a safehouse. He sticks old newspapers on the door and changes the screws of the hinges. He power-saws off a section of the wall (away from the door).]

{Outfitting a safe house is about two things. You need to know if someone's coming, and you need to know how the folks you're protecting are going to get out of there if they do.

[He pulls a motion sensor quartz security light from a paperbag. He removes the motion sensor from it and removes the back panel of a cell phone. He wires them together.]

{If you can't be on babysitting duty all the time, you need to make sure that you know the minute something's wrong. A thirty-five-dollar outdoor floodlight has a decent motion detector on it. Wire that to a cellphone, and you've got a remote alarm system that will call you if there's trouble.}

[He fits it to the outside wall above the door. Sophie and Cara watch him at work. He moves his arm in front of the customized motion sensor and he gets a phone call, with a customized ringtone.]

SOPHIE STAGNER: Nice.

[She comes over.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: It came with the phone. So if anyone comes in here, you'll know. [points to the motion detector] And if that goes off, I'll know, too.

[He goes inside the garage. Sophie follows.]

SOPHIE STAGNER: So we're supposed to stay in here... [shocked] in the garage? And do nothing?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Pretty much. It's not so bad, as safe houses go. You got a TV, at least. I once spent three days in a Riyadh storage facility with nothing but a flashlight and an Arabic celebrity magazine.

SOPHIE STAGNER: Can I call my friends at least?

MICHAEL WESTEN: No. No outside contact until this is over.

SOPHIE STAGNER: They're high-school students. You're completely paranoid.

[Michael coils an electric cable around the doorknob, electrifying it.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Maybe. But I'm still breathing. Now, if you need to run, You can go safely through that opening.

[He points at the section of wall he opened up. Then he touches a large alligator clip to the doorknob. Sparks fly as the circuit is completed.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: But don't... see? Don't touch that. I'll be rigging this so if anyone comes through this door, they'll be electrocuted. I don't want you to get zapped accidentally.

SOPHIE STAGNER: [mad] Whatever. It's a freaking garage. I'd rather be killed than live here.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Well, those are your two options.

SOPHIE STAGNER: I'll miss our spring formal. Is it too much to ask to go to one dance?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Look, these guys know where you go to high school. If they have any brains at all, they will put the word out. You show up, someone makes a phone call.

SOPHIE STAGNER: You really think they're gonna use kids at my school? Are you serious?

MICHAEL WESTEN: That's what I would do.

SOPHIE STAGNER: I can't believe this. This is ridic...

[Cara enters, seeing her daughter whining.]

CARA STAGNER: [admonishing] Sophie! We are very grateful, Michael. I am sorry.

MICHAEL WESTEN: It's fine. Sophie, you might wanna go use the bathroom. I'm gonna lock down for the night.

[Sophie walks out in a huff.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Kids.

CARA STAGNER: Yeah.


CUT TO:

[Stock footage of Miami. Day.]


CUT TO:

[Bar. Day. A waitress brings Sam his change. Michael sits at the table.]

SAM AXE: Thank you, Mariposa. Appreciate it.

[Michael grabs the leather booklet and collects the change from inside it.]

SAM AXE: Hey, what's happening here? What?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Bus fare.

SAM AXE: Wh-what about your car? I mean, I thought you had some wheels.

[They get up and start to walk.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Spark plugs.

SAM AXE: Spark plugs cost two bucks, Mike.

MICHAEL WESTEN: I know. My dad rebuilt the engine. The ignition system is shot. Plugs won't fit until I rebuild the system from scratch.

SAM AXE: From scratch? [chuckles] Sounds like you and your pop had a lot in common.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Changing the subject, what did you find out about DeSantos?

SAM AXE: Well, I checked around. He's a distributor for one of the drug cartels. He's not a major player, but he's got some firepower.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Any chance we can nudge the FBI to pick him up?

SAM AXE: [chuckles] Your little FBI surveillance team is more interested in your romp at the convention than doing you favors, FYI. look, it sounds like they've been trying to make a case against DeSantos, but nothing ever sticks. You know how these guys are.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Who's DeSantos' lawyer?

SAM AXE: Gellman.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Who?

SAM AXE: Oh, that's right. You've been running around the world for the past decade. Bruce Gellman. He's the lawyer for the whole drug cartel. From DeSantos all the way up to El Jefe.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Guess I better meet Gellman.


CUT TO:

[Outside Michael's Loft. Day. Michael hammers nails into a long strip of leather at a worktable. Oleg comes up.]

OLEG: What is this? Weapon?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Nothing you need to worry about.

OLEG: You know what I worry about? I worry about my waitress. How long this takes, Michael? A week now?

[Michael spray-paints the nail-embedded leather strip black.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: I'm working on it. Things got a little complicated, but I think I found someone DeSantos will listen to.


CUT TO:

[Gellman Estate. Day. The large wrought-iron gates open automatically, as Bruce Gellman's Mercedes comes out.]

{I love commuters. Anybody who drives the same route to work every day, it's like they're doing all the work for you, and a punctual commuter, a guy who's in the same place every morning at 8:36 AM, it's almost too easy.}

[The Merc drives out into the tree-lined street and goes right over the nail-embedded leather strip, nails pointing upwards. The front two tires burst on coming in contact with the nails. Michael watches in amusement as the black-haired, white-bearded driver exits his car to inspect the damage.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: I'm gonna feel really bad if you don't have a triple-A card.

MERC DRIVER: [calmly, holding his hands upwards] Is this a robbery?

[He is...]
BRUCE GELLMAN
CARTEL LAWYER

[Michael brushes past him, looking at the car.]

BRUCE GELLMAN: The wallet, keys are in the car.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Is this the 7 series? With the leather seats? Tempting, but it needs new tires, and I'm here on business.

BRUCE GELLMAN: Business?

MICHAEL WESTEN: I've been calling and calling, trying to make an appointment, maybe get you on the phone. But then I thought, "he's a busy man. I'll just talk to him on his way into work."

BRUCE GELLMAN: What do you want?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Alvaro DeSantos. I want to talk to you about his assault trial.

BRUCE GELLMAN: And my daughter wants a pony. I don't discuss my clients' business.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [laughing] "A pony". That's funny. Well, I'll do all the talking, then. I don't know how much attention you've been paying to your client lately, but he's been a bad boy. Witness intimidation, attempted murder. Y'know, the kind of things that could cause problems for your... other clients.

[He throws down a newspaper, the headline of which says "KINGPIN: Attorney Gellman Defends Cocaine Cartel". A picture of Gellman with an overweight tough-looking mob boss (El Jefe) is printed.]

BRUCE GELLMAN: You have no idea who you're dealing with.

MICHAEL WESTEN: No, I read the article, most of it anyway. Scary guys, drugs, guns, I miss something? I doubt El Jefe back in Colombia wants to risk yet another murder investigation just so DeSantos can avoid a few years in prison. [enunciating] Have El Jefe tell DeSantos to back off. I want an answer by tomorrow. I'll meet you here, same time. Understood?

[He walks off. Gellman picks up the newspaper and looks at the headlines.]

BRUCE GELLMAN: Oh, I understand.

[He watches Michael walk away nonchalantly.]


CUT TO:

[Stock footage of Miami. Day.]


CUT TO:

[Hotel. Day. Michael and Fiona hide behind some trees, watching the hotel.]

FIONA GLENANNE: How'd it go? Gellman gonna talk to Colombia, make our lives easy?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Hope so. Those two can only stay in mom's garage for so long.

[Fiona looks through her binoculars at the hotel entrance.]

FIONA GLENANNE: And if he doesn't go for it?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Then our lives aren't so easy.

[Through the binoculars, Fiona sees a tall, thin, bearded, balding man in a suit walk out.]

FIONA GLENANNE: There's your man.

[Michael looks at "his man". He is...]
AKHOM THABET
EGYPTIAN SPY

[Akhom tips the valet.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Oh. Been a while. He's lost a little... a lot of hair.

[Fiona takes back the binoculars and looks through them, seeing Akhom getting into a Mercedes.]

FIONA GLENANNE: I tailed him for you. He's renting a nice Mercedes. Spends a lot of time in restaurants. He lives pretty well for a spy.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Hands out bribes mostly. Bid rigging, industrial espionage. Listen, I need you to keep watching him. Let me know when's the best time to get next to him.

[Fiona stops him, looking at him meaningfully.]

FIONA GLENANNE: What then?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Then I'll find out who's behind this burn notice...

FIONA GLENANNE: [interrupts] I'm just curious about your plans. I suppose if you get this resolved, then you'll leave Miami.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Fi, can we talk about this later?

[Michael beats a hasty retreat. Fiona looks thwarted, but not defeated.]


CUT TO:

[Stock footage of Miami. Day.]


CUT TO:

[Gellman Estate. Day. Michael walks past parked cars along the tree-lined street, as if he didn't have a care in the world.]

{Threaten any serious criminal organization, and they're going to do one of two things.}

[A bald Colombian killer watches Michael walk past, whistling.]

{They'll send someone to make a deal...}

[He removes a remote control from his pocket and extends the antenna, preparing to press the button. Michael walks past a car, under which a bomb is stuck. He stops right where the bomb is placed and checks his watch.]

{Or they'll send someone to make a corpse. Either way, you've got something to work with.}

[The bald killer presses the button. Nothing. He presses it a couple more times, to no avail. Michael starts to walk again. The bald guy tries more times, but still gets no explosion. He looks up and sees Michael's not in sight. Michael comes up behind him, watching him calmly. The bald man curses.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Problem with the detonator? [holds up a critical bomb component] I borrowed this when you went to take a leak.

[The bald killer pulls a gun out of his coat. He tries to aim it at Michael, but Michael grabs it and twists his arm. A hard stomp on his knee later and the killer is on the grass on his back. Michael aims the gun at him.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Gellman's not coming, is he? What's going on?

BALD KILLER: I don't know nothing.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Oh, come on. Don't be so modest. You hear things around the water cooler at the office.

[The bald guy turns his head away. Michael points the gun to the man's healthy knee.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: I could take the other knee out if that helps.

BALD KILLER: They talked to the guys in Colombia. They say... to kill you all.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Really?

[Michael swings the gun across his face, knocking him unconscious. He stands over him.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: That's not what I was hoping they'd say.


CUT TO:

[Stock footage of Miami. Day.]


CUT TO:

[Madeline's Garage. Day. In the makeshift safehouse, Michael explains the situation to the Stagners.]

SOPHIE STAGNER: What? We have to leave Miami?

MICHAEL WESTEN: You don't have a choice. The whole cartel is after you now. They won't stop until you're dead.

CARA STAGNER: What about you?

MICHAEL WESTEN: They don't care about me. I'm just in their way.

SOPHIE STAGNER: [frustrated] So we just leave? That's it?

CARA STAGNER: Sophie, Sophie, he's just trying to help us.

SOPHIE STAGNER: [mad] It was bad being stuck in here, but now we're just supposed to up and leave? What-what about my friends? It's my... it's my senior year. I have a date for the dance!

[Fiona enters, her gun in her hand. Closing the door, she straps the gun to her thigh-holster.]

FIONA GLENANNE: Perimeter's clear. Sam's out front keeping a lookout.

SOPHIE STAGNER: Can't you do something? Didn't you say that you were better at... tactical... whatever than he is?

[Michael cocks his head at Fiona.]

FIONA GLENANNE: What? I am.

MICHAEL WESTEN: I'm sure Fi would be happy to take on the cartel with a lighter and whatever's in the liquor cabinet, but trust me, it's not an option. You have to go now.

CARA STAGNER: Michael, we don't even have our things. Can we at least go home?

MICHAEL WESTEN: No, they'll have people watching your house.

SOPHIE STAGNER: But I need my phone. It has all my friends' numbers on it.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Maybe I'm not being clear. You will leave Miami. You will not contact anyone. You will start over. They want Cara and Sophie Stagner dead. It is our job to turn Cara and Sophie Stagner into ghosts.

[Sophie walks over to the bed and sits downcast. Looking at Fiona, Michael jerks his head towards Sophie, asking her for some "tactical comforting". Fiona goes to Sophie.]

FIONA GLENANNE: I know how you feel. Normally, I would agree with you. Michael would change his identity and disappear to get out of a parking ticket. But in this case, he's right. It's for the best.

CARA STAGNER: [to Michael] Okay, so, where do we go?

MICHAEL WESTEN: I need you to write up a list. Places you have family, vacation spots, anywhere you've been in the last ten years or so. You can go anywhere that's not on that list.

CARA STAGNER: Won't they just follow us?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Trust me, they will not know where you're heading.

[Cara nods sadly.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Fi, we've got to get over to Cara's apartment now.


CUT TO:

[Cara's Apartment. Day. Fiona walks calmly on the street, towards Cara's apartment.]

{When you go on the run, the first thing you do is lay down tracks in the opposite direction.}

[As she walks, two Colombians watch her from inside a car. One of them answers his cell phone.]

{But that only works if the bad guys find the trail and believe it's for real, which means selling it.}

[Fiona climbs the stairs towards Cara's door.]

{You need to put on a little show, make them feel clever.}

[She enters the apartment and pulls out her cellphone and calls Michael.]

{When you make somebody work to get a piece of information, he'll believe it that much more because it's hard to get.}

[Across the road from the apartment, Michael watches the apartment and the two thugs sitting in the car, through a pair of binoculars.]

FIONA GLENANNE: [from phone] I'm in Cara's apartment. They see me?

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Yeah. Hurry up, Fi.

[Fiona checks the back door.]

FIONA GLENANNE: [into phone, sounding touched] Michael, are you worried about me? That is sweet. Sometimes I feel you're more of a romantic than you realize.

[She sits at Cara's computer and starts working.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [from phone] Fi, there are guys with guns outside.

FIONA GLENANNE: [into phone] Oh, it's not that bad. Last week, I was holing in some dodgy mountain...

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] I don't wanna hear about your other jobs, okay? If I knew you were gonna take this long, I would've done it myself.

FIONA GLENANNE: [from phone] Don't be silly. You're on their hit list.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [from phone] Just hurry.

FIONA GLENANNE: [into phone] Actually, I was thinking that now would be a good time to talk to you about getting a key to your place.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone, irritated] Fiona, please.

[Fiona accesses "The Mail Forwarders" website, entering the Stagners' current Miami address.]

FIONA GLENANNE: [into phone] What? I'm just saying, it's practical. I'm not talking about moving in. I could come over anytime, and-and we could...

[Through his binoculars, Michael sees the two thugs exit their car.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Okay, here they come. Get out of there now.

[Fiona enters the new address, setting the city as Salt Lake City, Utah.]

FIONA GLENANNE: [into phone] So, what do you think? A key?

[Michael sees another car pull up near the apartment. He sees three guys get out, one of them is DeSantos.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Two more coming in and DeSantos.

[Fiona continues typing, booking online bus tickets to Salt Lake City. She also brings up a window about the weather there.]

FIONA GLENANNE: [into phone, unflinching] I want an answer.

[A page pops out of the printer.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [from phone] Fi, go to the back door and get out now.

FIONA GLENANNE: [into phone] Yes or no?

[The bad guys are just outside the door. Michael is sweating bullets.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone, through clenched teeth] Fine! Just get out of there.

[They enter, carrying guns. Michael gets no response from Fiona.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone, yelling] Fi! Fiona, get out of there! Goddamn it, Fi! Get out of there!

[DeSantos strides into the apartment looking around and sees the computer monitor, which basically puts the Stagners in Salt Lake City. He yanks the paper out of the printer and reads it.]

[Fiona walks down, composedly, finally answering Michael.]

FIONA GLENANNE: [into phone] As far as DeSantos and the Colombians are concerned, the Stagners are off to Salt Lake City. You know, Michael, if I'm gonna be there more, you really ought to get some proper furniture.


CUT TO:

[Madeline's Garage. Evening. Michael informs the Stagners about the deception.]

CARA STAGNER: So they think we're going to Salt Lake City, but we're really going...

MICHAEL WESTEN: [finishes for her] Going to Buffalo. Tomorrow morning, you're on the first flight. Airport security is your friend at a time like this.

SOPHIE STAGNER: [glumly] What are we supposed to do in Buffalo?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Same thing you do here. There are malls and... clothing stores.

[She smiles wryly, shaking her head, gets up and walks out past him, slamming the door shut.]

CARA STAGNER: [sighs] Such a tough age just to get up and move.

MICHAEL WESTEN: I joined the military at her age. I left home with fifty bucks and a change of clothes.

CARA STAGNER: Was someone trying to chase you down and kill you?

[Michael stays silent. His phone rings.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: I'll, uh... I'll talk to you in the morning.

[He answers the cell.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Yeah, Fi?


INTERCUT WITH:

[Hotel. Evening. Fiona sits in the lobby, watching Akhom get out of his car and walk inside.]

FIONA GLENANNE: [into phone] Your Egyptian just got back, and he has dinner reservations.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [from phone] I'll be right there.

[Fiona hangs up.]


CUT TO:

[Hotel Restaurant. Night. Michael walks smilingly towards the table where Akhom speaks to two other people.]

{Approaching a spy in the middle of a job gives you a lot of leverage. They're playing a delicate game, and the last thing they want is someone coming in and smashing their delicate game with a brick.}

[Michael walks up and speaks genially to Akhom, who looks understandably surprised to see Michael.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Good to see you, Akhom. [deep voice, accented] "Good to see you, Michael, my old friend. Why, just the other day, I was telling someone..."

[Akhom's guests look at Michael suspiciously.]

AKHOM THABET: [trying to interrupt] Michael...

MICHAEL WESTEN: [drops the accent] "... how you saved my life."

AKHOM THABET: It's good to see you. I'm in a meeting. Maybe later.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [to Akhom's guests] I need a few minutes with him, guys. You don't mind, do you?

[Reluctantly, Akhom nods to his guests to leave for a bit. They get up and walk away. Michael sits.]

AKHOM THABET: What do you want?

MICHAEL WESTEN: I need your help.

[Akhom scoffs.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [reminding politely] Akhom, if it wasn't for me, you'd be buried somewhere in the desert. A horror story diplomats tell one another around the campfire, but you're not because I helped you.

AKHOM THABET: I'm grateful, but you're burned. You're out.

MICHAEL WESTEN: You're still in business, though. [pointing to one of Akhom's guests] Wasn't that the Vice Chair of the Sudanese delegation?

[Michael picks up one of the appetizers from the dish on the table and bites it. He grimaces at the taste.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [holding up the appetizer in disgust] And what is that? That is... ohh.

[He keeps the appetizer aside.]

AKHOM THABET: [ill-at-ease] What do you want?

MICHAEL WESTEN: [picking up a Martini glass] Well, for starters, a sip of your drink. I mean, the taste, it's just... ohh.

[Michael sips the drink and grimaces again at the taste. He puts the drink down.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [as if he just remembered] Oh, and, uh... a copy of the Homeland Security directive that authorized my burn notice.

AKHOM THABET: [wheezes out a chuckle] I can't.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Sure you can, because you don't want me to tell your friends there about the jobs you did on the wrong side of his border.

[Michael sits back in the chair, while Akhom narrows his eyes at Michael.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Maybe he'll forgive you.

[Michael's phone rings - the motion detector ringtone plays. Michael looks at the phone. Staying composed, Michael talks to Akhom.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Yeah, I need an answer... now. I also need your valet ticket.


CUT TO:

[Madeline's Garage. Night. Michael bursts through the door, his gun at the ready. Cara runs up to him fearfully.]

CARA STAGNER: Michael.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Where is she?

CARA STAGNER: She's gone. The alarm went off, and...

MICHAEL WESTEN: [urgently] How many, how many men were there? Did you get a look at their car?

CARA STAGNER: What? No, there was nobody. She snuck out while I was asleep. It's her spring formal.

[Michael calls Sam on his cell phone.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Sam, Sam, I need you to get to the safe house.

SAM AXE: [from phone] Yeah, just let me put on some pants.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Come naked. Just get here now.

[He hangs up.]

CARA STAGNER: [breaking down] Michael, if they find Sophie, they're gonna...

MICHAEL WESTEN: [reassuring] Hey. I'll find her first.

[He heads out.]


CUT TO:

[Stock footage of Miami. Night. Limousines drive towards the school for the spring formal.]


CUT TO:

[Dade Senior High School. Night. The seniors, dressed in their best formal clothes, gather outside the school, some of them pulling up in stretch limos. Michael runs towards Sophie.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Sophie!

[Outside, Sophie speaks to her date.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Sophie!

[Sophie, dressed in an evening gown, sees Michael running up.]

SOPHIE STAGNER: Oh, come on.

[Michael reaches her. Looking back, he sees a car drive up quickly.]

SOPHIE STAGNER: One night. Why? Why can't you just leave me alone?

[As she continues her whining, Michael pulls her inside the school. Her date looks confused. Two thugs get out of the car and run towards them. Michael closes the glass doors and uses his belt to tie the door handles together.]

SOPHIE STAGNER: One night! That's all I wanted, But you have to be a drama queen! Why can't you just leave me alone?! I don't understand.

[The thugs reach the door and start to thump on the door, trying to get in. Sophie's whining evaporates as she sees the very real threat to her life.]

SOPHIE STAGNER: [freaking out] Oh, my god! Oh, my god! Oh, my god!

[Grabbing her hand, Michael runs inside the school hallways.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Shop class! Where is it?


[They enter the shop class. Michael shuts the door. Sophie shakily turns off the lights.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Turn the lights back on.

SOPHIE STAGNER: But they'll find us.

[Michael picks up a wrench, holding it tightly.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: We're not hiding.

[She puts the lights back on. He picks up a blowtorch.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: You will go out the back door. You're gonna meet me behind the gym, and I will find you in five minutes.

[He puts a utility glove on his left hand and looks outside. Petrified, Sophie stands rooted to the spot.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Seriously, go.

SOPHIE STAGNER: [shaking her head] I can't.

MICHAEL WESTEN: No arguments! Go!

SOPHIE STAGNER: You can't...

MICHAEL WESTEN: [yelling] Sophie, go right now!

SOPHIE STAGNER: You can't leave me!

MICHAEL WESTEN: [grabbing her hand, promising] I won't let anything bad happen to you. Go. Go.

[Reluctantly, she walks out. Michael puts the business end of the blowtorch to the doorknob, heating it to an excruciatingly high temperature. The two thugs (who've busted inside) stalk the hallways, guns in hand. They see the lights on in the shop class and make their way towards it. Michael stands near the door, against the wall, holding the hot doorknob with his gloved left hand. One of the thugs puts his hand on the knob. Steam rises and a hissing sound is heard. The thug screams out in pain. Michael yanks the door open, pulling the thug inside and clocks him hard on the head with the wrench. He crumples to the floor, unconscious. The other thug holds his gun out, trying to get past his fallen partner. Michael slams the door on his outstretched arm. He then grabs the thug's arm and pulls him inside the room, slamming his head into a hanging engine. Bouncing off the engine, he falls, joining his partner in La-La land.]

[A little while later, Michael has the two thugs hog-tied.]

{Basic rule of bodyguarding - never fight with the protectee around, mostly, because if they happen to catch a stray bullet, you just lost your job.}

[He puts their guns in a tool chest drawer. Locking the drawer, he break the key inside the lock. He starts to walk off but stops. Turning back to the tool chest, he sees a small box of copper spark plugs. He picks it up and puts it in his jacket pocket.]


[Michael runs outside the school, looking for Sophie.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Sophie. Sophie? Sophie, bad guys are gone now. Soph?

[He walks past a pillar and looks back, seeing Sophie standing there, crying. She turns to him.]

SOPHIE STAGNER: I should have listened to you. I'm sorry.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Let's go.

[She stands there, still talking.]

SOPHIE STAGNER: I barely had a chance to go inside. I didn't even have a chance to say goodbye to my boyfriend.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Boyfriend? I-I thought it was just a date.

SOPHIE STAGNER: [moaning] He could have been my boyfriend. I'll never know now.

[A beat passes.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: I was on this job once in Dublin. The whole plan fell apart, totally compromised. I only had an hour to get out of the country. I couldn't get word back to a key asset I had developed in the IRA. [beat] It was Fiona. We were... involved romantically.

SOPHIE STAGNER: Are you guys still together?

MICHAEL WESTEN: No. But we reconnected later. Sort of. Sophie, we should go.

SOPHIE STAGNER: So you're saying that if we're meant to be together, we'll find each other.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [awkwardly] Sure.

SOPHIE STAGNER: You're really bad at this.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Yeah.

[They share a laugh.]

SOPHIE STAGNER: It's just hard, you know? Leave your whole life behind.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Sometimes it can be.

[He stays silent for a while.]

SOPHIE STAGNER: Yeah.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Can we go now?

[She nods and goes with him.]


CUT TO:

[Stock footage of Miami. Day. The sun rises.]


CUT TO:

[Michael's Loft. Day. Michael updates Fiona and Sam (who's raiding Michael's fridge).]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Bottom line is... DeSantos knows Cara hasn't left. Eventually, he'll hunt her down. We need a more permanent solution.

[Out comes Fiona's gun.]

FIONA GLENANNE: It's about time.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Fi. Sam, have you talked to your FBI buddies lately?

[Sam takes a tub of yogurt out and closes the fridge door.]

SAM AXE: Guys, we've been through this, all right? They're not my buddies. They're-they're just...

FIONA GLENANNE: [teasing] Your keepers? Your masters?

SAM AXE: That's enough out of you.

MICHAEL WESTEN: They're both by-the-book suits, right?

[Sam takes a whiff of the yogurt. He puts the tub to his mouth. Michael and Fiona watch him suck down the contents.]

SAM AXE: [mouth full of yogurt] Yeah, Mike, they're Feds. I mean, come on. Why?


CUT TO:

[Roof overlooking Fredo's Bar. Day. Michael throws up a roll of duct tape and a video camera onto the filthy roof, and climbs up laboriously.]

{Modern technology has made it possible to do sophisticated electronic surveillance with stuff from your local electronics store. It sounds more fun than it is.}

[He looks at his hand, which he obviously put in something yucky. Brushing off whatever he touched, he creeps over to the side that's opposite Fredo's Bar. Carefully, he aims the camera towards the door to Fredo's, where bodyguards keep watch.]


[A short while later, Michael strolls round the corner towards the bar, meeting DeSantos just as he walks outside.]

[CAMERA POV: The camera records Michael accosting DeSantos.]

ALVARO DESANTOS: Come for that drink?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Another time. This has gone far enough. We want to make a deal.

ALVARO DESANTOS: Good. Fine. Bring me the girl, we make a deal.

MICHAEL WESTEN: [holds up his cell phone] Just listen to this first.

[DeSantos snatches it from him. Michael walks away, smiling. DeSantos puts the cell phone to his ear.]

ALVARO DESANTOS: [into phone] Who is this?


[A short distance away, Sam and Fiona sit in the car. Sam hits the Record button on the tape recorder (connected to the cell phone). He speaks to DeSantos, while Fiona holds open a pad, with a checklist of phrases.]

SAM AXE: [into phone] Uh, yes, Mr. DeSantos, this is Chuck Finley, attorney for Cara Stagner.

ALVARO DESANTOS: [into phone] Mr. Finley, I dislike meetings over the telephone. Perhaps I could meet with your client face-to-face.

SAM AXE: [into phone] Well, I just want to tell you that Cara Stagner is not going to be a problem.

ALVARO DESANTOS: [into phone, amused] Not a problem? Now, y-you see, this confuses me because I know she made a statement to the police.

[Fiona's checklist:
The whole story
Go to jail
Witness protection
I don't want to
Need a guarantee
Willing to testify
My boss
Back in Colombia
Nowhere safe
Can't run/hide
Into hiding
and so on...]

SAM AXE: [into phone] Yes, uh, and to the Feds, uh... but, uh, they turned her away.

ALVARO DESANTOS: [into phone] She thought they would put her in witness protection.

[Fiona looks up, hearing one of the phrases, and crosses out "Witness Protection" on the list.]

CARA STAGNER: [into phone] Well, she doesn't want to die.

ALVARO DESANTOS: [into phone] And I don't want to go to jail.

[Fiona crosses out "Go to jail".]

ALVARO DESANTOS: [from phone] So this is our dilemma.

SAM AXE: [into phone] How can I convince you?

ALVARO DESANTOS: [into phone] I want a guarantee.

[Fiona crosses out "Need a guarantee".]

ALVARO DESANTOS: I have to know that she's not going to testify, and the only way I can know this for sure is, uh... let me tell you how we do this in Colombia, eh?

[DeSantos keeps talking.]


CUT TO:

[Michael's Loft. Day. As Sam watches, Michael sits at the computer, working on an audio/video software, playing "mix-and-match" with the different phrases they managed to sucker DeSantos into saying.]

{Faking surveillance video has come a long way. It used to be you'd spend days slaving over a VHS tape with a razor blade. Now it's a few hours and a computer.}

[Finished, Michael plays back the doctored audio, with some static in the background.]

ALVARO DESANTOS: [vo] I don't want to go to jail. To testify, I want witness protection. I want a guarantee. Do you really think you can hide me?

[As the sound plays, the video footage of DeSantos shows him on the cell phone.]

SAM AXE: I've heard legit recordings a hell of a lot worse. Just add in a little car noise, it'll sound like a surveillance van across the street.

MICHAEL WESTEN: You talked to the Feds yet?

SAM AXE: [taking a swig of beer] Hmm. Yeah. They're all over it. And they're still asking about your little, uh, developing-nations escapade. But when they think I'm gonna give them something good, they buy me lunch.

[Sam gets up and climbs downstairs to leave.]


FLASH TO:

[Bar. Day. Sam sits at the bar with Agents Harris and Lane, talking about Michael's meeting with Akhom.]

SAM AXE: [eating, mouth full] Anyway, he was looking for someone he used to know, like, uh, an old spy buddy. I mean, between you and me, I think he's lonely. I couldn't get much more out of him, But I think he's about a six-pack away from talking, so if you guys could spring for a little...

AGENT LANE: [interrupts] We're not buying you beer, Sam.

SAM AXE: Hey, hey. You want to catch him or not? Oh. Got a present for you.

[He puts a paper packet on the table.]

AGENT HARRIS: That sure doesn't look like what we asked for. Where's the list of Westen's known associates?

AGENT LANE: How about the photos? How about the inventory of what he's got in that apartment?

SAM AXE: No, no, that's much better. That's Alvaro DeSantos. Good stuff.

AGENT HARRIS: Is he involved with Westen?

SAM AXE: Mm, no, that's just something I picked up poking around. Kind of a... side project.

AGENT LANE: Hell you want us to do with it?

SAM AXE: Only what you boys are legally bound to, Which is take it from me, log it, and pass it upstairs.

[Harris takes a videotape out of the packet.]

SAM AXE: It's got to be worth at least a couple thou in reward money, right? [chuckles] Man, I'm just about ready for dessert.


CUT TO:

[Stock footage of Miami. Day.]


CUT TO:

[Gellman Estate. Day. Michael comes out of the bushes, just in time to flag down Gellman's Mercedes (with new front tires). Gellman stops. Michael goes around to his window.]

BRUCE GELLMAN: I suppose I should thank you for not blowing out my tires again.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Gellman, you're a better guy than I thought. I bet you got your daughter that pony after all.

BRUCE GELLMAN: [chuckles] What the hell are you talking about?

MICHAEL WESTEN: Thank you. Talking your client into flipping on the big boys.

[Gellman frowns in confusion.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Assault charge gets kicked, my witness is off the hook. Win-Win.

[Gellman is still speechless.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: I get it. You don't discuss client business. Just know I appreciate it. I really do.

[He starts to walk past the car. As he nears the rear tire, he pulls out a butterfly knife, twirls it open and stabs it into the tire, puncturing it. Gellman rolls his head in exasperation.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: That's for trying to kill me.

[Michael keeps walking. Gellman gets out of the car to look at the tire. Michael calls Sam on his cell phone.]

SAM AXE: [from phone] He go for it, Mike?

MICHAEL WESTEN: [into phone] Yeah, he's gonna be on the phone with whatever FBI contacts he's got before his tire goes flat. My guess is, he'll have the tape by lunch. We'll see how the big boys in Colombia like that.

[Michael walks off, as Gellman leans against his car, deep in thought.]

{A drug cartel is a business. If killing a witness to protect a valued employee from jail time is the best way to keep making money, they'll do that.}


CUT TO:

[Stock footage of Miami. Evening/Night. The sun sets.]


CUT TO:

[Outside Fredo's Bar. Night. Gellman's Merc pulls up to the bar. He gets out.]

{If it looks like that employee is testifying to the FBI, though, they're just as happy to leave the witness alone and take care of the problem another way.}

[DeSantos exits the bar, followed by his bodyguards. Gellman comes up to him.]

BRUCE GELLMAN: I hear you're thinking about taking a trip, going out of town.

ALVARO DESANTOS: [perplexed] What? Who told you that?

BRUCE GELLMAN: I got some friends with the FBI.

ALVARO DESANTOS: FBI?

[DeSantos' own bodyguards start moving towards him. The bald killer (who tried to blow Michael up) walks up. One bodyguard puts a gun to his neck and starts dragging him towards the car, assisted by the other bodyguard.]

ALVARO DESANTOS: What the...!

[One of them opens the trunk. They start to push him inside, as he struggles.]

ALVARO DESANTOS: [pleading] No! It's not true! Don't!

[One of them cracks him hard across the face with his gun. They push him inside and close the trunk door.]

[At a safe distance, Michael and Fiona watch.]

FIONA GLENANNE: Shame. To let them have all the fun.

MICHAEL WESTEN: I'm just glad it's done.

[She turns to face him.]

FIONA GLENANNE: Do I get to have my key now?

[They look at each other for a while. Finally, Michael holds up a key. Smilingly, she tries to take it, but Michael holds on to it tightly. After a short struggle, she manages to wrench it from his grip. He smiles tightly and starts to walk. Smiling, she bounds after him.]


CUT TO:

[Madeline's House. Day. Using his newly-acquired spark plugs, Michael works on the Charger. His mother's voice is heard.]

MADELINE WESTEN: Michael. You have people here.

[Michael looks up and sees a much more relaxed Cara and Sophie walking towards him. Cara leans in front of him and shows him Madeline's "Seniors Yoga" DVD.]

CARA STAGNER: Your mother gave it to me. She's nice. I went by your house, and Fiona told me you were here. I hope that's okay.

[Michael stands upright.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: No, it's fine.

[He closes the hood.]

CARA STAGNER: Well, we just wanted to say thank you... in person. Also, I could pay you. I just... y'know when I get my check.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Don't worry about it. Oleg has been more than generous.

CARA STAGNER: But...

MICHAEL WESTEN: No, seriously.

[She smiles. Michael gets inside the car.]

SOPHIE STAGNER: Cool car.

MICHAEL WESTEN: We'll see if it works.

[He turns the ignition. Lord be praised! It starts.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Hey, what do you know?

[Sophie leans against the car door.]

SOPHIE STAGNER: Your mom said this was your dad's car. Sounds like he was a pretty cool guy.

MICHAEL WESTEN: Not really. I left home for a reason.

SOPHIE STAGNER: Well, I'm glad that I didn't have to.

[She leans over and gives him a grateful peck on the cheek. She leaves with her mother. Michael sits in the car, deep in thought.]


FADE TO:

[Cemetery. Day. Michael stands at his father's gravestone, somberly.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: "Beloved" is a bit of a stretch.

[The grave says:
Frank WESTEN
1939 - 1998
Beloved Husband
And Father
Michael starts to crumple up his father's to-do list, but stops. He opens it up and tucks inside his jacket pocket.]

MICHAEL WESTEN: Thanks for the car, dad. I think you'd like how it looks.

[A rustling sound is heard. Michael looks up and sees Akhom Thabet walk up, with a manila envelope tucked under his arm.]

AKHOM THABET: We meet here?

MICHAEL WESTEN: You wanted someplace safe. It's quiet, lots of cover. Two guys in business suits don't raise any eyebrows. You should have more meetings outside, Thabet. Get some color.

AKHOM THABET: [friendly] You were always good, Michael. It's a shame you're out.

MICHAEL WESTEN: I'm gonna get back in.

[Akhom shrugs. He holds the large envelope out to Michael, but pulls it away just to say one more thing.]

AKHOM THABET: I've enjoyed our friendship, but...

MICHAEL WESTEN: [completes his sentence] ... but don't call you ever again. I got it.

[Michael takes the envelope. Akhom starts to walk but turn back.]

AKHOM THABET: Michael. [smiles warmly] Be careful.

[Michael nods. Akhom walks off. Michael pulls a sheet of paper from the envelope and looks at it. It's the Homeland Security Directive, code-named "Cold Sunshine", with an alphanumeric code under it (37104:AA920435:GTVKNJ37). ]

{An alphanumeric tracking code and a special-access program code name. It's not much, but it's a start.}

[He gets into the Charger and drives along the cemetery path, towards the gate.]


FADE TO BLACK.


[Closing Credits.]