ENTRAPMENT
Screenplay by
Ron Bass
Story by
Ron Bass and Michael Hertzberg
Revisions by Don Macpherson 1/19/98
Revisions by William Broyles 2/22/98
EIGHTH DRAFT
February 22, 1998
FADE IN:
INT. NEW YORK BUILDING--LATE NIGHT
Park Avenue. CREDITS START OVER long PAN UP sheer glass face
of a New York Residential tower, up, up, to the very top
where...
...a lone dark FIGURE emerges from a door onto surface of the
wind-swept roof. Surrounding us, towers of glass and steel,
stone and brick. Below, a drop of sixty stories. Hundreds of
feet down, minimal traffic. We CLOSE to see...
...The THIEF. All in black, nearly invisible in shadow, with
sleek visored helmet that conceals face. From a pack, takes
climbing rope. Clamps it with carabiner around post. Dials a
distance into the special ratchet mechanism. Thief steps to
edge of building, LEAPS over...
...and FALLS down face of tower, glass windows reflecting New
York. Whooaaaaa! We are falling with the Thief, a wild
frightening ride with the rope trailing behind. Suddenly the
rope gears down smoothly, stopping the Thief at a window
pane. Through the glass, we see spotlights bathing paintings
and sculptures.
Swiftly, deftly, the Thief pulls out case of precision TOOLS,
begins to DRILL OUT two of four BOLTS holding window in
place. A glance at the city far below, and the Thief turns
UPSIDE DOWN, lowering to drill out the last two bolts.
The Thief replaces existing bolts with handcrafted CUSTOM
BOLTS containing ROLLERS. The Thief now PRIES at corners of
glass and POPS it free, ROLLING AWAY the pane on shafts of
custom bolts, leaving just enough room for the Thief to slip
into...
INT. PARK AVENUE SUITE--LATE NIGHT
...See now FROM THIEF'S POV, helmet's visor is a NIGHT-VISION
material that creates red-tinted light in darkness. Nearby,
ALARM BOX softly BEEPS to pulsing of a green light.
Thief points a REMOTE at the alarm. The Remote runs possible
codes at speed on display panel, until the right one STOPS.
The Thief clicks the Remote. OFF.
Moving across to a VASE of lilies, perfectly situated on a
lacquer chest before a gilt mirror, the Thief LIFTS the vase,
brings it across the room to a small table by the window.
TILTS stems, so that the lilies hang over lip of vase, away
from the window. Now turns, SCANS...
...the profusion of priceless art. Paintings run to Otto Dix,
Franz Marc, Marcel Duchamp. One statue of Rodin. Soft
lighting makes walls invisible, everything with infinity
perspective. An obsidian slab dining table seems to end at
horizon...
The THIEF goes past the bedroom, where a couple sleeps. The
Husband has a mask over his eyes; the wife has fallen asleep
with a book in her lap and the reading light on. The Thief
takes out from the backpack...
...a large cylindrical TUBE bearing a label we cant' read.
The Thief moves quickly through the spectacular apartment,
past German expressionist oils, Russian futurists, a Rothko,
a Kandinsky, a Frances Bacon. The Thief has no interest in
these, as CREDITS CONTINUE, we enter...
INT. PARK AVENUE SUITE, STUDY--LATE NIGHT
...a study. No windows. Book-lined. With elegant antique
writing desk. Above the desk...
...a single PAINTING. Unlike the others, this one is small,
a study in darks and lights, a nude woman reading a letter
while her feet are being washed. The Thief wastes no time,
unceremoniously takes out a special scalpel...
...CUTS painting from its frame with sure, perfect strokes.
As THIEF rolls the canvas quickly in acid-free paper. Opens
cylindrical tube, pulling out another CANVAS which we cannot
see. Deftly unrolls this, fitting it carefully into stolen
painting's now-empty frame. Re-hangs it. Stares through
opaque helmet visor. Approves.
Slips rolled-up stolen canvas into empty tube. Leaves. Before
we follow the thief, we linger to see the replacement
canvas...
ELVIS. On black velvet.
INT. PARK AVENUE SUITE, STUDY--LATE NIGHT
WITH the Thief now, moving past panelled library to a CHUTE
built into the wall, a brass lid with the words U.S. MAIL.
The Thief opens the chute...
HOLD on address. On last line '...HONG KONG'. And a small
distinctive LOGO of a cartoon Chinese mask.
The Thief pops labeled tube DOWN the chute.
The Thief heads into the room where the open window waits.
Thief disappears out the open window. The window closes,
becoming...
EXT. BUILDING WINDOW--NIGHT
Another window, in which we see reflected the lens of a
telescope and, in that lens, the image of the apartment where
the thief has just been.
A silhouetted FIGURE is looking through the telescope.
EXT. NEW YORK BUILDING--LATE NIGHT
VIEW through scope's lens. An amazingly CLOSE detail of the
Penthouse where the thief had been. The Figure walks away.
We see light fall into the room as the Figure exits a door
and softly closes it as CREDITS CONCLUDE.
The IMAGE stays the same, but the darkness lifts, the image
lightens and DISSOLVES INTO:
INT. PARK AVENUE SUITE--VIDEO--DAY
The Park Avenue Suite on VIDEO, daytime, with COPS and
INVESTIGATORS combing the crime scene. The wife being
interviewed, the Owner in robe with coffee cup, lots of
activity. Cops doing a typical investigation.
FIRST TECHNICIAN (O.S.)
Look at those assholes.
INT. WEBBER ASSURANCE--MAIN OFFICE--DAY
The video plays live on a large monitor in a richly paneled
room trimmed in marble, classic architecture mated with the
most high-tech gear available. This is the headquarters of an
agency funded by insurance companies to track down major
theft losses. We are at a bullpen in the center of the room,
where four TECHNICIANS work at computer monitors.
SECOND TECHNICIAN
If the Rembrandt were lying on the table,
they'd toss their donuts on it.
Another MAN walks up behind them
CRUZ
They're doing their job...
This last voice belongs to HECTOR CRUZ, early forties,
focused, crisp, with the dead eyes of an ex-Company man who
has seen it all. This is Cruz's place and this is his case.
CRUZ
(continuing)
You better be doing yours.
The Technicians snap to business.
CRUZ
(continuing)
Schematics of security system.
One Technician manipulates computer representations of the
system on screen.
FIRST TECHNICIAN
We did a hundred simulations. No
way anyone could have gotten in.
CRUZ
Too bad someone did.
The other Technician starts scrolling faces on his screen.
SECOND TECHNICIAN
Our current all-star thief team.
We're checking airline and
immigration records against known
aliases.
Cruz turns to the Third Technician.
CRUZ
How much we in for?
THIRD TECHNICIAN
Twenty four million. Less
reinsurance.
Cruz's look: which is?
THIRD TECHNICIAN
(continuing)
Twenty percent.
This does not make Cruz happy.
CRUZ
Baker here yet?
The Technician nods.
TECHNICIAN
She's been pulling all the feeds.
Cruz walks away.
INT. WEBBER ASSURANCE--GIN'S CUBICLE--DAY
Cruz enters a separate glass partitioned office. VIRGINIA
BAKER, early thirties, sits slouched at the work station
where she spends most of her life. She hasn't taken any time
getting ready: hair tied up on top of her head, workshirt
over sweats, running shoes. This woman is all about work.
On the walls of her cubicle are reproductions of works of
art, with the date they were stolen and the date the case was
solved. She's already tacked up a picture of the Rembrandt
torn out of a magazine.
CRUZ
Where were you? I called at 4:30
this morning.
GIN
There are times when you don't
answer the phone.
She says it matter of fact, not even looking up, but the
implication is obvious.
CRUZ
You didn't answer the beeper
either.
GIN
I hardly knew the guy. Why be
impolite to strangers?
CRUZ
I don't recall authorizing you to
have a personal life.
GIN
I don't recall asking your
permission.
On the monitor above her station we can see the Park Avenue
Suite on the same live feed we saw earlier.
CRUZ
A thief this good could handle the
sensors in the rooms. What we
don't get is how he effectuated
his entry.
GIN
Through a window.
CRUZ
The windows don't open.
GIN
Entry through the doors or vents
triggers instant alarm.
They're fast, quick, testing each other.
CRUZ
The windows are wired, too.
She works her computer.
GIN
They used smart glass. The sensors
respond to violation of the
panel's integrity.
On her computer screen, a red-outlined rotating DIAGRAM of
the living room. One window pane glows lavender. She touches
a key, the window breaks. We hear a PIERCING SCREECH. Gin
resets the program. The screech cuts off.
CRUZ
So he popped the pane?
GIN
Bingo.
She touches the keyboard of her computer...This time the
window SLIDES AWAY into thin air. No sound.
CRUZ
That's great if you're a computer.
In the real world that pane weighs
200 pounds. The building's 600
feet high.
GIN
He unscrewed the bolts, reset them
on rollers, then slid the whole
frame away. No more effort than it
takes to vacuum a floor.
CRUZ
Interesting theory. Where's the
proof?
She looks up at the live feed on the monitor and clicks the
remote as she murmurs something in Chinese.
CRUZ
(continuing)
You ordering chop suey again?
GIN
Let a thousand flowers bloom.
Chairman Mao.
Our camera ZOOMS toward the VASE of lilies by the window. All
the flowers are tilted in one direction. Over the lip of the
vase, away from the window.
CRUZ
Meaning--
GIN
Meaning no one arranges calalilies
like that. He left the window open
when he came in. His only mistake.
Cruz is with her now.
CRUZ
And the draft blew over the
flowers.
GIN
Put the bolts on that window under
a scope, I'm betting you'll find
wrench scratches on them.
Cruz takes a dollar out of his pocket.
CRUZ
Not bad. Have some coffee on me.
He puts the dollar on her desk. Gin takes it.
GIN
Thanks, but Starbucks is a buck
fifty.
He digs for change.
GIN
(continuing)
This particular guy is the best.
The best there ever was.
Cruz rolls his eyes. Oh no, here it comes.
CRUZ
You're not going to pitch
MacDougal to me again.
She stares at him. That's exactly what she's doing.
CRUZ
(continuing)
He's been out of the business for
years. No one's ever proved, hell,
even arrested him, for anything.
She hits the remote, changing the camera at the crime scene.
The image of Elvis on black velvet in the Rembrandt frame
appears.
GIN
Mac's signature.
CRUZ
Give me a break. Remember Manzini?
When he stole Montezuma's scepter
he left a Pepto Bismal bottle. The
best ones always copy Mac.
GIN
You're saying the thief wants us
to think it's Mac but it's really
not.
CRUZ
Exactly.
She CLICKS the remote, and another video monitor comes ON,
running a grainy VIDEOTAPE of...
GIN
The auction. Where our client
bought the painting...
INT. BRITISH COUNTRY ESTATE--DAY
We see the Great Room of an English country estate. Perhaps
a hundred attend.
GIN
Ashcroft Hall, Buckinghamshire,
four weeks ago.
The tape PANS five PAINTINGS on the block. We recognize our
REMBRANDT, the image of Bathsheba reading King David's letter
as her attendants wash her feet.
GIN
(continuing)
Bathsheba reading King David's
letter...
She hits a button. The view PULLS BACK to include the crowd,
and FREEZES. One tiny section is circled. And BLOWS UP, so
blurry as to be unrecognizable. Then, SNAPS to tight
resolution. The image of...
GIN (O.S.)
(murmur)
Anyone we know?
...ANDREW MACDOUGAL, 60, face etched with character and
worldly experience, lit by a twinkle behind the razor-keen
gaze. Tall, wide shoulders, the build of an ex-sailor and the
elegance of a diplomat.
INT. WEBBER ASSURANCE--GIN'S OFFICE--DAY
They stare at the image.
GIN
He marked the buyer, then stole
the painting a month later.
Cruz doesn't want to agree too easily.
CRUZ
He goes to lots of auctions. He's
got his own collection.
But she's winning him over.
GIN
Copies are copies. I know a
MacDougal when I see one.
Cruz stares at her, comes to a decision.
CRUZ
I'll get in touch with London and
Geneva, get Europol and the ALR on
it.
Cruz turns to go.
GIN
They've never caught him before,
what makes you think they'll catch
him now?
CRUZ
You got a better idea?
GIN
Yeah. Me.
He takes her measure. She's serious.
GIN
(continuing)
We've got to catch him in the act.
CRUZ
(tell me something I
don't know)
Why didn't I think of that?
GIN
It's not the thinking of it, it's
the doing it.
CRUZ
With that computer--nobody better.
Out there...it's different. You
twisted your ankle stepping over
a curb on Madison Avenue.
But we can tell he's thinking it over. He wants her to do it,
doesn't want to let her have it too easily.
GIN
I've been following this guy for
years. I'm your best shot.
CRUZ
How would you approach him? Hello,
Mr. MacDougal, I'm Gin, would you
steal a painting with me?
GIN
I'd need an introduction. From
someone he trusts. Someone who
owes us a favor.
Cruz is thinking.
CRUZ
That's doable.
GIN
And a target guaranteed to catch
his interest.
CRUZ
Which you have in mind.
Of course.
GIN
He's on his way to London, right
now, for an auction of Chinese
art, one of his passions.
He stares at her, flat, blank, maybe saying good-bye.
CRUZ
Make sure you check in.
EXT. AUCTION ROOM, LONDON--SUNSET--HELICOPTER SHOT
London in all its glory. The Thames River and its bridges,
the gothic wonders along the water, the Christopher Wren
elegance of Saint Paul's, taking us to the auction house and
down into the street.
A double decker bus WIPES screen, revealing a pair of woman's
legs which head up the steps of...
EXT. TATE GALLERY--LONDON
The Woman enters the doors.
INT. AUCTION ROOM, LONDON--SUNSET
One vast pillared ROOM. Marble with crystal chandeliers. TILT
DOWN from painted ceiling to where an AUCTION is in progress.
A female AUCTIONEER takes bids from an international big-
money crowd. PAN along row of buyers, including a formidable
Chinese WOMAN with a dog, swivel round to...
...ANDREW MACDOUGAL in classic Savile Row. He's bidding on a
6th century temple scroll, indicated only by subtle gestures
with his program. Behind him, a woman steps into frame.
WOMAN'S VOICE
(from behind;
subtitled Chinese)
Don't do it...You're already over
value. By fifteen per cent...
MacDougal doesn't turn. Just raises his program, ups the bid.
GIN
(subtitled Chinese)
Twenty per cent. You know what
they say about a fool and his
money...
Mac turns very slowly. Sees Gin then. She's in a classic
skirt and jacket, maybe with glasses, like an artist become
an art dealer.
His glance goes to his bidding RIVAL, a middle-aged Chinese
woman who indicates bids with a Yorkshire Terrier, whom she
holds in her hands. MacDougal raises back.
MAC
(leans back;
subtitled Chinese)
I have a question...
GIN
(subtitled Chinese)
Who am I?
MAC
(subtitled Chinese)
That is of no interest.
And now he turns. Straight to her eyes.
MAC
(continuing;
subtitled Chinese)
Why are we speaking Chinese?
GIN
(English now)
Uh. I'm showing off.
MAC
A billion people speak Chinese.
Don't be too impressed with
yourself. As for that scroll, I
can resell it for double. In 30
minutes.
GIN
No you can't.
MAC
(oh?)
I can't?
GIN
(really sorry)
It's sold.
Mac turns to see Madame Mao flushed with victory. He stares
for a long moment, a philosophical veneer almost masking his
anger. Then he stands up.
MAC
Are you a confederate of my
adversaries? Or are you just
stupid?
HOLD on her. Gin's smile fades. Mac is gone.
EXT. AUCTION ROOM--NIGHT
Mac among the guests awaiting their cars, standing slightly.
apart. From behind, a female throat clears. He closes his
eyes for a beat. Then, turns.
GIN
(softly)
How about if I try humility.
MAC
How about if you try disappearing.
His glance lifts beyond her shoulder. And walks off toward a
silver Ferrari just pulling up. She goes after him, desperate
to keep his attention.
GIN
That's a Ferrari.
Tipping the valet. Sliding in...
MAC
My God, you're observant.
Shutting the door. Driving away, leaving her standing there.
EXT. HOTEL TERRACE--LONDON--LATER THAT NIGHT
A classic English hotel with a summer terrace.
MAC (O.S.)
...only it's not bloody football!
Mac is having some single malt Scotch with ROKI, a Japanese
businessman in a typical Saruman suit.
MAC
It's just that crap Americans call
'football', like you could call
your ass a blueberry scone and
have it be one.
Roki nods seriously. Mac pulls out a leather cigar holder,
pulls out a cigar, gestures to Roki.
MAC
(continuing)
Join me?
Roki nods. Mac passes him the cigar holder.
MAC
(continuing)
Why'd you want to bring that
foolishness to Japan, you're just
pissing your investment down a
bungee hole.
Flat against one side is an ENVELOPE, which Roki PALMS
skillfully, slipping it seamlessly INTO his pocket as he
withdraws a small MATCH BOX. He takes out one long cigar,
lights up.
ANOTHER ANGLE
In the b.g. we see Gin enter. She sees Mac talking to Roki,
takes a breath, walks toward them.
MAC
(continuing)
Seriously, Roki, put your money
into pharmaceuticals or
prostitution, something stable.
Roki pushes the cigar holder and match box back toward Mac.
Opening the box, Max sees one match and a small MICROCHIP
fastened to the cardboard.
Lights up. Slides the match box in his pocket.
MAC
(continuing)
Garbage, perhaps. Or industrial
plastics.
Mac takes a satisfying puff, gathers his things. He's ready
to go.
MAC
(continuing)
Wasn't there someone you wanted me
to meet?
ROKI
Yes...
Roki looks around just as Gin arrives at their table.
GIN
Mr. MacDougal.
MAC
You're like malaria. Once you get
it, you can't get rid of it.
ROKI
This is--
She holds out her hand to Mac.
GIN
Virginia Baker.
ROKI
The associate--I was telling you
about.
MAC
You're joking, surely.
ROKI
You know we have no sense of humor.
MAC
This woman's bad luck.
ROKI
For me, she's been very good luck.
Now if you two will excuse me...
He toasts Mac with the last of his drink, picks up his cigar,
and strolls away.
GIN
I'm sorry about the scroll, but
sometimes you have to lose to win.
MAC
Where did you hear that, one of
those American talk shows?
(to waiter)
Check, please.
GIN
I don't want to waste your time.
MAC
Then don't.
GIN
I have a proposal for you.
He signs the check, glances at her, then looks her over,
heels to hair.
MAC
Believe me, if you weren't so
tiresome, I'd have one for you.
GIN
Something of great value,
something of such artistic and
historic significance that only
you could truly appreciate...
Mac makes a quick decision.
MAC
You have a car?
GIN
Uh, yes.
MAC
Meet me in front. Five minutes.
He gets up and without a word, leaves.
EXT. HOTEL--NIGHT
The parking attendant pulls up in a typical rental car while
Gin waits. Mac emerges in full stride, heads for the driver's
side.
MAC
Get in.
As Mac gets in, he deftly palms a RAZOR BLADE and slices the
right leg of his trousers.
A little flustered, Gin slips into the passenger seat.
GIN
This is a rental. You're not
authorized to drive it.
Mac puts the car in gear.
MAC
Live dangerously.
Mac drives away.
INT. CAR--STREETS OF LONDON
Mac driving in silence. Gin stealing glances at him. Suddenly
and smoothly, he reaches down, and picks up...
GIN
That's my purse.
He opens it. One eye on the road, he begins to rummage...
MAC
Just want to see who I'm with.
Can't be too careful...
She SNATCHES the bag away from him, he GRABS it back, the car
SWERVES LEFT and CRASHES VIOLENTLY into a parked car. ALARMS
go OFF, a cacophony of horrific NOISE.
MAC (quietly)
Oh, dear.
EXT. KOMITSU--NIGHT
Mac and Gin are OUT of the car. Gin notices Mac's torn
trouser leg and beneath it, what looks like blood on his leg.
GIN
My god, you're hurt.
Mac looks down at the blood beneath the torn pants.
MAC
Seems I am.
GIN
I'll call an ambulance.
MAC
It's nothing serious. I'll just
run into that building. They'll
have some sort of first aid kit.
Bystanders appear, as do the owners of the parked car. He
LIMPS off toward the nearest building, a block-square 30-
story skyscraper bearing the name KOMITSU. A crowd starts to
form around Gin...
Mac pulls a VISITORS ID badge out of his coat and pins it to
the pocket as he strides toward the bUilding.
INT. TOILET STALL--NIGHT
We are inside an empty toilet stall. The door BURSTS OPEN,
and Mac enters EAST, locking the door, hitting the STOPWATCH
on his wrist, which begins counting at
ZERO. He pulls UP his trouser leg, revealing a bloody gash,
and RIPS the entire wound OFF, the rubbery prosthetic wound
DANGLES, dripping its phony blood.
Mac pulls a butterfly bandage stained with bogus blood from
a bag strapped inside his coat, presses it on his leg, then
FLUSHES the prosthetic DOWN the hole.
He pulls off the VISITOR badge clipped to his lapel, and from
a Ziploc bag slides a small sheet of plastic, which he
PRESSES to the face of the badge, fitting perfectly, turning
the badge into...
...an EMPLOYEE I.D. Quickly, Mac takes out the MATCH BOX from
the hotel bar, and with a fine tweezers gently removes the
MICROCHIP Roki passed him. He places it INSIDE the badge,
activating it with a soft BEEP-BEEP.
Mac looks up at the ceiling, where he sees a large air
conditioning vent.
INT. PREP ROOM--NIGHT--MOMENTS LATER
Dimly lit. Full blue and white clean suits with hoods and
booties hang on racks all around the room.
An ENGLISHMAN puts on a clean suit.
INT. VENT ABOVE--SAME
Inside a large air conditioning duct, Mac slides telescopic
mirror through vent. In the mirror sees the Man walk over to
heavy sliding air-locked door and push a large red plunger
with the pair of his gloved hands. The doors to one of two
CONTAMINATION ROOMS hiss open. Man enters.
INT. PREP ROOM--NIGHT
Mac drops down into the room. He moves swiftly to put on a
clean suit. Two JAPANESE MEN enter before Mac has finished.
They are talking in Japanese. Mac rips open tinted safety
glasses, slips on rubber gloves and face mask, and then turns
to the Japanese.
One of them points to Mac and speaks in English in a rough,
accusatory way.
JAPANESE MAN
What are you doing?
MAC
My job, honorable supervisor.
The Japanese Man gestures, tuck in your mask. And in fact,
Mac's mask isn't quite tucked in.
Mac tucks in his mask.
MAC
(continuing)
Domo arigato.
JAPANESE MAN
Quality is everyone's
responsibility.
MAC
You are absolutely correct.
Mac bows. The Japanese Man bows back. Mac turns to approach
the red plunger as the Japanese Men mutter something
derogatory in Japanese to themselves. He pushes the plunger.
INT. DECONTAMINATION CHAMBER--NIGHT--SAME
Mac enters a small square chamber. The door closes with the
hiss of an air lock.
A female recorded voice purrs safety instructions while Mac
is bombarded by an air shower of green, yellow and white
chemical spray and a pulsing wash of UV light.
An OUTTAKE GRATE begins to suck the colored gas back out of
the chamber. Mac removes the grate, follows the billowing gas
into the vent, then replaces the grate from the other side.
The chamber doors open. We see into the Laboratory.
INT. LABORATORY--NIGHT--SAME
Technicians in clean suits manipulate large etching machines
while others scrutinize the resulting chip-lined silicon
black wafers with microscopes.
Once they are cleared, the wafers are returned to cassettes
in a large clear plastic boat. A technician picks up the
plastic boat and walks with it toward a conveyor belt,
noticing as he goes that the decontamination chamber is
empty. Odd. But there is work to do. He sets the large boat
into its seat on the conveyor belt.
The boat of wafers disappears through the wall.
INT. CHIP PROCESSING ROOM--NIGHT--CONTINUOUS
The boat emerges through the wall. The belt takes it through
a series of baths where it is gently washed to hyper clean it.
Above the belt the ceiling is crisscrossed with large
ventilation ducts. Suddenly, from inside one of the ducts, a
scalpel slices through the heavily reinforced vinyl.
Mac emerges and slides through, dropping down beside the
conveyor belt. He glances at watch. Colored gas begins
leaking through the incision. Mac gently waves the cloud of
gas toward...
...a row of sensors marked GAS DETECTION.
Mac positions himself on the conveyor belt directly behind
the large boat. The belt carries him through a vacuum lock
into a room filled with red gas. DANGER ARGON GAS a sign
reads.
Mac THROWS back his hood, YANKS out his mini oxygen pouch,
fits the slender forked breathing tube into his nostrils, and
slips on thick round infrared GOGGLES. No time to lose...
INT. CONVEYOR TUBE--NIGHT
The conveyor TUBE, a horizontal Lexan cylinder three feet in
diameter, filled with billowing red gas. Mac stretches out on
his belly, glancing up to where the clear conveyor belt, with
its cargo of microchips, runs along just above his bead in
eerie red light. He begins to...
...shimmy, crawl, squirm along the length of the tube. Gas
too thick to see the end. He is agile as a commando, hauling
ass, faster, HARDER...
INT. MICROCHIP VAULT--NIGHT
A black chamber. We can scarcely make out the rows of
shelving, the air purifying equipment, the conveyor belt
entering through its air lock, as two FIGURES IN CLEAN SUITS
stack the chips on shelves.
INT. CHIP PROCESSING ROOM--NIGHT
The gas streaming from the incision Mac made in the
ventilation tube swirls around the sensors, which flash red
and trigger ALARMS through the building.
INT. MICROCHIP VAULT--NIGHT
The ALARM sounds in the vault. The two men immediately
evacuate, just as, through the gasket...
...Mac TUMBLES into view, swinging himself neatly DOWN to the
floor, and in a single motion, he is already FLASHING a neon-
green pen light along the shelves of microchips. He's looking
for something special. Not this row. Not that one...
...he's found it. A single row, 35 chips, not black like the
others but copper-colored.
Mac whips out a coiled strip of shiny black SATIN CLOTH.
Three feet long, little more than an inch wide. Carefully,
Mac lays the strip down directly OVER the row of microchips.
And when he lifts it UP again...
...the chips have ADHERED to the underside of the cloth. In
one deft SNAP of his wrist, he COILS the cloth again, like a
yo-yo. Turns to leave, and...
Tosses a small SACK of something where the chips used to be.
TIM'S CASCADE BRAND POTATO CHIPS. SEA SALT AND VINEGAR FLAVOR.
EXT. MICROCHIP VAULT--NIGHT
Mac exits out into a highly secure hall lined with NO ENTRY.
SPECIAL CLEARANCE REQUIRED signs. But the narrow hall is now
filling with a few employees in clean suits evacuating their
stations.
He quietly blends in. A man in a clean suit turns to him.
MAN
Second bloody time this week. I
thought these Nips had their act
together.
Mac says something in Japanese that sounds exactly like what
the Japanese men had said earlier.
MAN
(continuing)
Sorry, Mate. Nothing personal.
Mac shakes his head, walks on.
EXT. KOMITSU--NIGHT
Mac emerges in his white clean suit, quite near to where Gin
is still dealing with the messy confusion of the traffic
accident. She doesn't notice him.
He walks past her, takes off his hood, and hails a taxi.
INT. HOTEL CORRIDOR--LATER THAT NIGHT
Gin comes down the hall, upset. Knocks on a door.
INT. HOTEL--MAC'S ROOM--NIGHT
Mac comes to the door, opens it for Gin.
GIN
You disappeared.
MAC
You seemed to be handling
everything quite nicely.
GIN
Are you...okay?
MAC
It was only a scratch. Far more
damaging to my trousers than to me.
GIN
That's good. Terrific.
But she's still upset.
MAC
You're upset about your car. Leave
the bill at the front desk and.
I'll take care of it. Goodnight.
He starts to close the door. She stops the door.
GIN
I don't care about the damned car.
My luggage's been stolen.
MAC
You're joking.
(beat)
You can't trust anyone these days.
He seems genuinely concerned. He opens the door.
MAC
(continuing)
Come in.
She enters, paces, upset.
MAC
(continuing)
Have a drink.
He drops some ice in a glass.
MAC
(continuing)
Have you called security?
Pours in some whiskey from the hotel decanter.
GIN
Yes. But they don't have a clue.
(beat, takes a drink)
Why would anyone steal my luggage?
MAC
Maybe the thief thought you had
something valuable. You are in the
business, that's what Roki says.
GIN
Like I would have art in my
suitcase.
MAC
Of course you wouldn't. The
Rembrandt wouldn't fit.
GIN
Excuse me?
He's knocked her off balance.
MAC
Only the most famous painting
stolen in years. If you don't keep
up on your craft, you'll miss all
the jokes.
She looks at him for a moment, at the pirate's smile.
Nervous, she tries to get down to business.
GIN
Speaking of our craft, I would
like to talk to you about
the...matter of business.
He considers her with an unsettling, dissecting gaze.
MAC
You know, if you did a few simple
things to your appearance, you
could be reasonably attractive.
He comes closer, smiling. She reaches into her bag. He's
enjoying himself.
GIN
I've got something...
MAC
I sincerely hope so.
He gently stops her hand from rummaging in her bag. He's
enjoying himself.
GIN
You're not taking me seriously.
MAC
Oh, I'm taking you...quite
seriously.
He's close now, really close. He's definitely the kind of man
your mother warned you against.
GIN
Well, uh...
And in spite of herself she's flustered.
GIN
(continuing)
I didn't expect you to be so...
MAC
So what?
GIN
So alive.
This amuses him.
MAC
They still take me down from the
wall every now and then.
This is getting out of hand. She breaks the spell and heads
for the door.
GIN
I have to go.
Mac grabs his coat.
MAC
So do I. I'm checking out.
Yet again his unpredictability throws her off balance. He may
beat her out the door. She holds the door shut.
MAC
(continuing)
Do you mind?
GIN
You...you can't.
MAC
Of course I can. I have a note
from mother.
She stands by the door and takes another drink, but her hand
is shaking. The ice cubes rattle.
MAC
(continuing)
You're shaking. Are you nervous?
GIN
No. Why would I be?
MAC
Because you young Americans think
the world began when you were
born. You fall apart when you
don't get your own way.
A look passes across her face. There's only one way she'll
keep him here. Besides, he is pretty damn hard to resist.
GIN
I don't really like people my own
age.
She has turned to stare at him. No trembling now. And she
most definitely hasn't fallen apart.
MAC
That's convenient. I'm old enough
to be your grandfather.
She smiles at him.
GIN
My father.
Without taking her eyes off him, she leans back and starts to
close the door.
MAC
Hmmm. That at least keeps it in
the family.
And the door closes in our face.
INT. HOTEL--MAC'S ROOM--DAY--NEXT MORNING
We hear the sound of the shower. Dressed in a bath robe, Gin
is going through Mac's luggage. The shower turns off. She
closes his luggage, rushes over, pours herself a cup of
coffee.
He emerges in a robe. She smiles at him and picks up her
purse.
GIN
I've got something for you.
MAC
Oh, that's quite all right. No
charge.
She tries not to grin, she's serious now. She pulls an
envelope out of her purse.
GIN
It's the job I was telling you
about.
His face clouds over. Not the job again.
MAC
And I thought we were getting on
so well.
GIN
We were, we are, but this is
perfect for you.
MAC
Not interested.
He turns away from her and opens the closet.
GIN
But...but we--
A part of her thinks that sex sealed their deal. And the
implication makes him brusque.
MAC
Are you under the impression that
now I'm in some way obligated to
you?
GIN
Well, no...but...
MAC
Good. I'll call the concierge.
They can get you a new room, book
your flight home, so forth.
He begins putting on his pants. She chokes back a sob. He
turns and sees her, sitting absolutely still, her eyes wet
with frustration.
MAC
(continuing)
For God's sake.
GIN
I'm sorry. This just means so much
to me.
She tries to wipe her eyes with her sleeve.
MAC
I'll give you one minute.
She pulls a PHOTOGRAPH out of the envelope. It's a haunting
GOLDEN MASK with diamonds for tears and rubies for lips.
MAC
(continuing)
The Empress Death Mask.
GIN
The most important piece of
Chinese art outside of China.
He stares at it, so many thoughts, so many levels he connects
to it.
GIN
(continuing)
Somewhat better than that temple
scroll you were bidding on.
MAC
That old pirate Chiang Kai Shek
personally took this to Taiwan
when he was run out of China in
1949. Peking would dearly love to
have this back...
GIN
I suspected it might be worthy of
your interest.
MAC
It's not for sale.
But he can't take his eyes off it.
GIN
I know.
MAC
So you've heard all those stories
about me.
Well, I can assure you they're not
true. And if they were true, I've
retired.
He tosses the photograph of the Mask aside.
GIN
But Roki said--
MAC
Roki has a vivid imagination.
MAC
(continuing)
Besides, if I lacked certain
ethical scruples about the
ownership of property--which I do
not--I wouldn't need a partner,
much less a callow girl. I'd do it
myself.
GIN
You can't.
MAC
Oh?
GIN
It's only on exhibit at the
Queen's Museum this month. Even if
you could get into the museum, the
Mask bas its own security system.
A special, randomly programmed
interval code.
Mac stares at her.
GIN
(continuing)
To which I have the key.
She smiles sweetly, puts the envelope back in her purse,
stands up.
GIN
(continuing)
But you're not interested.
She heads for the door. Mac thinks for a moment.
MAC
I need an hour.
She smiles. The fish is hooked.
GIN
We going somewhere?
MAC
Possibly.
GIN
Maybe I should drive this time.
MAC
Maybe you should go buy yourself
some clothes.
And he points her out the door and closes it behind her.
EXT. HOTEL--NIGHT
Mac gets into his Ferrari. Gin is dressed in a tourist
sweatshirt, pants and running shoes--the sort of clothes
you'd find in a hotel gift shop. Mac takes in her clothes.
MAC
Very nice.
GIN
Not a word.
EXT. LONDON--DAY--HOUR LATER
They pull up to Borough Market, a glass and iron roofed
Dickensian jumble of stalls, stores, warehouses, and all-
night pubs. Trains rumble overhead. The streets are narrow
and cobblestoned. Delivery trucks pull up with huge rounds of
cheese, fish, vegetables, clothes, etc. We see mimes,
jugglers, street artists, the feel of an urban fair.
Gin can't believe what Mac has just told her.
GIN
You want me to pick up a painting?
MAC
Quite a good one. A Monet. Not
major, but it is Giverney.
GIN
I'm not here to run errands. I'm
here for the Mask.
MAC
If I can't trust you to pick up a
painting, how can I trust you
about the Mask?
She stares at him.
GIN
It's a test.
MAC
That's my girl.
She's all business now.
GIN
Fine. What do I do?
MAC
It's simple. You pick up the
painting, you pay for it with this
debit card.
He hands her a debit card.
GIN
How much am I paying?
MAC
I'm paying...one point five
million and change. I hate round
numbers.
He hands her a Star Tac phone.
MAC
(continuing)
Stay in touch.
EXT. BOROUGH MARKET--DAY
Gin passes through the maze of people. Among them, we see an
African braiding hair. A man chopping heads off fish.
Businessmen in pin striped suits, carrying umbrellas and the
Financial Times while they eat fish and chips. Everything
looks innocent and ominous. As the African braiding hair
reaches up to twist a braid, we see the muzzle of a bungee
mounted beneath his robe/vest.
Gin has the phone to her ear.
MAC
In front of you is a small
warehouse. Go inside. Ask for Haas.
She enters a small warehouse.
INT. CHEESE FACTORY--DAY
Tall glass windowed walls opening into the market. Everywhere
are huge rounds of cheese, some in vats of milky water,
others hung from ceilings. Not exactly the place you'd expect
to find a Monet.
Two MEN are at the counter in front. They gesture her to the
back, up the stairs to a room overlooking the vats.
INT. CHEESE FACTORY--DAY
Gin enters the office where HAAS works over some figures.
HAAS
You got the card?
GIN
(trying to be cool)
You got the merchandise?
HAAS
Merchandise? You mean the painting?
He lifts up a wrapped painting from behind his desk. He holds
out his hand for the card.
GIN
Unwrap it.
He tears off the brown wrapping. It is a painting. It could
be Monet.
GIN
(continuing)
Okay...now bring me the real one.
HAAS
This is as real as it gets, lady.
The phone rings.
MAC
Have you made the transaction?
She turns away from Haas, whispers.
GIN
It's a fake.
MAC
Give him the card.
GIN
But--
MAC
Can you follow simple directions?
She gives Haas the card. He swipes it through a card reader.
MAC
(continuing)
Pick up the painting.
She picks it up.
GIN
I'm telling you it's a forgery.
The paint's still wet for God's
sake.
MAC
Look on the back. What do you see?
On the back is a tiny black film case.
GIN
A film case.
MAC
That's what you're buying. Put it
in your pocket.
She does. Haas looks up from the reader. He's not happy.
HAAS
It's declined. What are you
pulling on me?
Gin swallows, nervous, holds up her hand--just a minute--
talks into the phone.
GIN
He says they turned the card down.
MAC
Damn, I knew I forgot something.
GIN
Not funny.
It's not. It's very scary. Haas is not a man to fool around.
GIN
(continuing)
What the hell do I do now?
MAC
Up to you. You could tell him the
check is in the mail.
He hangs up.
GIN
Mac--Mac!
We hear a dial tone. She recovers, smiles at Haas.
GIN
(continuing)
Run it again. There's obviously a
mistake.
Haas looks skeptical, but he swipes it again.
HAAS
There better be no mistake.
His tone is hard and flat and menacing. Gin smiles as she
studies the painting.
GIN
I'm so sorry to have doubted you.
This painting is obviously
genuine. Only Monet could do water
lilies like this. See?
He looks up from the machine just as she SMASHES the painting
down on his head. Then she's down the stairs on the run.
INT. CHEESE FACTORY--DAY
Gin runs out as Haas emerges, yelling to the MEN to stop her.
One of the men heads for Gin, the other talks into his wrist
as if on a radiophone. Gin dodges through the cheese and...
EXT. BOROUGH MARKET--DAY--CONTINUOUS
Her way blocked to the right by BADGUY1, runs left toward
Borough Market.
EXT. BOROUGH MARKET--DAY
Parked next to Borough Market cafe, Mac is reading the paper
and listening to music. He looks up and sees Gin escape up
the road away from him. He pulls out and turns left into Park
Street and races away under railroad bridge.
EXT. BOROUGH MARKET--DAY
Gin runs into Stoney Street, then turns right as BADCAR1
blocks her. BADGUY2 and BADGUY3 leap out of car.
Facing her now is BadGuy2, the African who was braiding hair.
He has the SK, but she runs through the covered area of
market. BadGuy2 follows her. BadGuy3 goes up alley into
market to try to cut her off.
Gin runs down one row of stalls and up another. It's a maze.
She's lost. She turns into an alley. Confronted by BadGuy1
coming up the alley, she turns back but is blocked by
BadGuy3!!
Trapped! Gin dives through a market stall filled with poultry
hanging on hooks and fruit, leaps onto pallettes and jumps
over the fence, BadGuys1,2,3 in pursuit, struggling to follow
her through the market crowds. BadGuy1 jumps the fence,
yelling-to his cohorts.
BADGUY1
Get the car! Cut her off!
They head back for the car.
Gin runs, desperate, with BadGuy1 right after her. Suddenly
BADCAR2 screeches up. BADGUY4 jumps out of passenger side,
joins chase!
Gin runs past columns and into tunnel, but at the end is a
grill gate. Locked.
She rattles it just as Mac's Ferrari pulls up on the other
side of the fence.
BadGuy4 grabs Gin but with surprising presence of mind she
stomps on his instep, then on his knee, knocking him down.
MAC
Back up the tunnel! Turn right!
Mac roars away as Gin turns and runs back up tunnel.
BadGuys2,3 pick her up as she exits the tunnel, chase her
through the market toward Winchester Walk.
EXT. BOROUGH MARKET--DAY
Gin bursts through the gateway onto the road. Mac's Ferrari
pulls up sharp, almost knocking her over.
He opens the door. She jumps in, out of breath, furious.
GIN
What the hell was that?
MAC
Not bad. I didn't expect you to
make it out.
GIN
You what--?
BadGuy2 comes around the column. BLAM! Fires a shot which
dings into the Ferrari door.
Mac steps on the accelerator and guns the Ferrari up a narrow
alley.
MAC swivels wheel, turns left -- guns ahead, leaving pursuing
GUYS behind, but BadCar2 blocks exit. Mac hits the brakes.
Gin is thrown hard against the seat belt.
MAC
You get the film?
Gear change, Reverse. She nods, then is thrown back against
the seat. Mac powers his way through WINCHESTER SQUARE.
BadCar1 screams toward them, screeches into a 360 and gives
chase.
MAC
(continuing)
It's the complete plans to the
Queen's museum, security system,
everything.
She stares at him. BadGuys fire! Blam! Taking out Ferrari
tail-lights. Mac races forward, confronted by a TRUCK pulling
out of an alley. Mac slams on brakes!
BadCar1 swerves to a stop, BadGuys leap out. Mac slams into
reverse!
MAC
(continuing)
Congratulations.
His foot goes down. Wheels spin. Heads straight for wire
cage, then -- Blam!! through wire, uprooting posts. Then --
MAC
(continuing)
I'm on board.
Blam!! through second wire, out onto --
EXT. BOROUGH MARKET--STREETS--DAY
People scatter as we REVERSE through market place toward
concrete pillars. Mac screeches to a halt just before
crashing into them.
GIN
Terrific.
MAC changes gears, Ferrari screeches past flea market stalls
as BadCars1 and 2 pursue.
MAC
So how'd you get in the business?
Mac careens into WINCHESTER WALK, BadGuys are hot in pursuit.
At junction of Winchester Walk and Stoney Street, Mac swerves
under RAILROAD BRIDGE. BadCars slam into each other!
Battered, BadCar 1 screams on.
GIN
My father--
Gin is thrown from side to side as Ferrari races on. Above,
on railway line, TRAIN roars past, whole ground shakes.
Over by TRUCK, CARS rev up. Tires burn. Hot pursuit, after...
EXT. BOROUGH MARKET--STREETS--DAY
Zooom! Down narrow street, just wide enough for single
vehicle. Mac sees delivery truck being unloaded by FORKLIFT,
dead ahead!
GIN
My father went to prison.
Embezzlement.
The Ferrari does a 225 degree spin and heads down street,
BadCar1 right behind.
The Ferrari races toward us, BadCar1 chasing fast
behind. Like a chess game. Move and counter-move. As...
Veering round a corner, Mac races with BadCar 1 racing right
behind. MAC smiles.
MAC
So you learned at Daddy's knee.
MAC's hands on wheel. Light touch. Hand on gear. Feet on
pedals. Hand to eye--that gleam. Of instant reactions, fueled
by an adrenaline buzz, as...
EXT. BOROUGH MARKET--NARROW STREETS--DAY
Mac and Gin's Ferrari zig-zagging down street, mounting curb--
GIN
I learned not to get caught.
MAC screeches faster past PRISON MUSEUM. By ANCHOR PUB, we
see Mac race toward us with BadCar1 behind. Mac goes around
corner, seeing SOUTHWARK BRIDGE in b.g.
EXT. LONDON BRIDGE--TRANSITION
Mac roars across London Bridge still pursued by BadCar1.
EXT. LONDON STREETS--DAY
Mac steers Ferrari out onto wider open roads, where, he can
finally zoom ahead. BadCar1 still pursuing, but falling back,
driver talking on radio. A MOTORCYCLE suddenly appears out of
a narrow alley!
GIN
Motorcycle.
MAC
Got it.
Mac heads left onto FREEWAY RAMP, has to slow. BadCar 1 pulls
alongside. BadGuy inside readying Gun. Mac accelerates. Blam!
The Ferrari rear window shatters!
EXT. FREEWAY--DAY
Rear window out, the Ferrari is chased down the freeway, the
Motorcycle weaving/in and out right behind!
GIN
That's why I came to you.
Mac checks mirror, foot down. MOTORCYCLE tries to close gap.
EXT. ROAD--DAY
...Just as a CAR cuts sideways across in front of Mac, at
last possible instant Mac swerves and descends down into
APPROACH TUNNEL.
GIN
You always get away.
EXT. /TIMER--APPROACH ROADS--DAY
The Ferrari catches up to traffic going into tunnel. BADVAN
pulls up alongside Mac. The doors slide back, revealing
BADGUYS with guns!
Mac jerks the Ferrari hard right, across the divider, enters
TUNNEL AGAINST TRAFFIC!
GIN
It's one way.
MAC
We're only going one way.
BadVan misses cutoff, roars harmlessly into tunnel. But the
Motorcycle leaps into the lane after Mac, guns it, screams up
right on his tail!
MAC
(continuing)
Some people just can't take a hint.
Inside tunnel, one long blind concrete corner. Orange lights
glare down. At max speed, Mac and Gin's Ferrari zooms down,
meets a BUS coming toward him in left lane! Mac swerves to
the right, narrowly missing bus!
But then a huge semi TRUCK, filling the tunnel, hurtles
straight toward them, the driver pumping the HORN.
The monster TRUCK fills the screen. The tunnel's walls
suddenly seem so tight, so small.
GIN
We're going to die, aren't we...
MAC
I'm not the one to ask...
Huge truck wheels, giant gleaming chrome bumpers, coming
right at them. No room, nowhere. They zoom towards certain
death. Grimly determined, Mac SLAMS foot to floor.
GIN
Not a good idea.
As they get CLOSER. And CLOSER. Huge truck, all iron and
steel; tiny Ferrari, flimsy aluminum and plastic. Just as
they are about to hit, MAC spins wheel, Ferrari veers to
left, MOUNTS some stairs along the tunnel WALL, just as TRUCK
accelerates forward, and...
GIN
(continuing)
Shiiiiitttt!!
PUSHES CAR UP ONTO ITS SIDE...PINNING CAR BETWEEN TRUCK AND
WALL...FERRARI HAS TO SCRAPE THROUGH...
Screeeccchhh!! Ferrari's sleek body BUCKLES and SCRAPES past
as TRUCK presses up. Both truck and car slow down, until as
the TRUCK pushes past in a storm of noise and sparks --
Woomph!! Mac's Ferrari DROPS, WHAMS onto SIDE, and...
Screeeeechhh!!! Skitters along on its side, the road flashing
past Gin's window. MAC turns wheel, and...Whamm! Ferrari
flips over, wheels tilt, car THUMPS onto ground, wheels GRIP
tarmac. Up ahead, the end of tunnel...
OPENS UP before them. And...Swoooosssh! Out other side. A few
yards later. Stunned, grateful to be alive, GIN looks over.
Deadpan.
GIN
(continuing)
Why the rush?
Mac doesn't skip a beat. Straight back.
MAC
We have a plane to catch.
Oh. Yeah. That explains it.
GIN
What about your bags?
MAC
I never carry...baggage.
As...ZOOM Ferrari disappears round corners, into the
labyrinth of city streets.
EXT. HELIPORT--DAY
The Ferrari pulls up to a private heliport. A state of the
art Helicopter waits on the tarmac.
Mac gets out, pops the tiny trunk. There's a bag inside.
MAC
Speaking of baggage, you'll find
some clothes in here.
Gin opens the zipper, pulls out some clothes in astonishment.
GIN
Those are my clothes.
MAC
Certainly not mine. Come on.
He picks up the bag and steers her toward the waiting chopper.
GIN
You stole my luggage? You--
MAC
I'm a thief. Sue me.
GIN
Where's my bag?
He stops at the steps of the helicopter.
MAC
When you were dealing with the
wreck of your rental car...I did
a little job. Thirty five
prototype copper microchips,
value, one million each.
He waves to a mechanic who is checking out the rotors.
MAC
(continuing)
Your bag is in Hotel Security,
with ten of those chips inside. An
anonymous phone call, your rental
car at the crime scene, it's not
a pretty picture.
Gin can't believe this.
GIN
That's entrapment.
MAC
No. Entrapment is what cops do to
robbers.
His flat hard eyes.
MAC
(continuing)
And blackmail is What robbers to
do schmucks.
He heads her up the steps of the chopper.
He sits in the pilot's seat. She sits down beside him, a
stunned look on her face.
GIN
I don't believe this.
MAC
What's your problem? I'm doing the
job.
GIN
What's my problem? You want a list?
MAC
You really don't believe I'd take
on a partner after all these years
without a little...insurance?
He doesn't linger on the word at all, but she hears it. The
Mechanic is signaling to Mac outside the cockpit.
Everything's okay.
GIN
Where are you taking me?
Mac picks up the headphones.
MAC
I hope you're not one of those
women who have to know every
little detail. Fasten that seat
belt.
He puts on the headphones, shutting her out. He presses a
button. There's a jet-like sound. The rotors start gently to
turn.
GIN
I hope you don't fly like you
drive.
The rotors turn faster. Mac lifts the helicopter up, and it
flies away.
EXT. SAFEHOUSE--NIGHT
A helicopter light searches in the darkness, picking out the
deer running across a heath and then the walls of a large
house, the reflection of a pool, and finally, a large green
lawn.
The helicopter settles down on the lawn.
EXT. SAFEHOUSE--FRONT DOOR--NIGHT
Mac and Gin walk up to the front door. We see the helicopter
in the b.g. He carries the bag from the trunk.
She's looking around with a professional eye.
MAC
Lose something?
GIN
I'm just curious what sort of
security system you'd have in your
own house.
MAC
And--
GIN
I'm impressed. Can't spot a thing.
MAC
Hmmm. I'd be surprised if you
could.
He turns the knob and walks in. No, key, no code, no nothing.
INT. SAFEHOUSE--ENTRY HALL--NIGHT
She follows him in disbelief into an entry hall.
GIN
Nothing? You don't even lock the
door?
MAC
I guess I have a more optimistic
view of human nature than you do.
He leads her down the hall.
GIN
Meaning, no one would dare rob you.
INT. SAFEHOUSE--LIVING ROOM--NIGHT
They walk through a comfortably furnished living room
decorated with restraint and taste. On the walls are only a
few classic paintings. A Turner. A regimental banner from a
Scottish regiment. Every item reveals a piece of Mac's life
and who he is.
Mac is purposeful, Gin lingering, looking at everything.
MAC
Let's keep moving, shall we?
INT. SAFEHOUSE--GIN'S ROOM--NIGHT--MOMENTS LATER
He sets her bag down on the bed in a guest room decorated
with neutral colors and lined with bookcases bulging with old
books, all of which look read.
MAC
Good night.
He turns to go.
GIN
Wait...
She comes closer to him.
MAC
Yes?
He's all business.
GIN
Why are we in separate--you know,
separate rooms?
MAC
My job, my rules. We've got a job
to do. No mixing business and
pleasure.
She thinks about that.
GIN
Too bad. Good casual sex is so
hard to find these days.
He looks at her for a moment. Straight into her eyes.
MAC
No, what's hard to find is someone
you truly want to be with. Even
for a while.
An admission he probably shouldn't have made. Which he covers
with...
MAC
(continuing)
Breakfast at six. We've got a lot
to do.
EXT. SAFEHOUSE--POOL--EARLY MORNING
Mac is swimming laps in the gray early morning light. Gin
appears, dressed comfortably, no-nonsense.
She watches Mac swim for a moment as she takes in the
grounds: the English garden, the hedges, the green lawn
stretching down to the sea. A tall windmill by the ocean.
Mac sees her and gets out. He throws on a towel robe.
MAC
You're late.
GIN
I'm dressed.
She pointedly looks at his robe.
GIN
(continuing)
And good morning.
MAC
Good morning.
GIN
Nice spot.
MAC
It is.
(beat)
Coffee and fruitloops or whatever
you eat in the kitchen. We'll
start in twenty minutes.
He heads away. She enters the house.
INT. SAFEHOUSE--KITCHEN--DAY
She finds a pot of coffee already brewed. Cups, milk, sugar
all set out. Croissants. Scones. Boxes of American cereal.
She opens the refrigerator. It's full. Everything neatly
arranged. No sign of anyone else.
She pours herself a cup of coffee.
INT. SAFEHOUSE--LIVING ROOM--DAY
Coffee cup in hand, she snoops in the living room. Staring at
some old photographs. Studying the paintings.
ANOTHER ANGLE
Mac enters quietly, watches her for a moment as she picks up
a book, looking for an inscription, any clue to who this man
is.
MAC
Had your coffee?
Embarrassed, she puts down the book.
INT. SAFEHOUSE-PLANNING ROOM--DAY--MOMENTS LATER
Long tables, specially designed hooks and bins for gear,
large bulletin boards to tack things to, a couple of
computers, various monitors and bits of electronic equipment.
Mac pulls out a folder of photographs and plans and begins
putting them up on the wall.
MAC
The Museum.
An immense English country house set in beautiful gardens. He
tacks up close up photographs.
MAC
(continuing)
I know it well.
GIN
As I recall, you've robbed it
before.
MAC
Years ago, if memory serves. When
does the exhibit end?
GIN
In a week.
This is not good news.
MAC
Only a week?
GIN
They're having a farewell party
the last night. Before the Mask
goes back to Taiwan.
MAC
That's when we'll do it. And we'll
need every single day.
He points to the battlements.
MAC
(continuing)
I went in and out over the wall.
He thinks for a moment.
MAC
(continuing)
Which means they would have
covered that by now. So...the
tunnel.
He points to a photo of a lake spanned by a bridge leading to
the museum.
MAC
(continuing)
When this was built Cromwell's
roundheads had a nasty penchant
for storming castles, drawing and
quartering the cavaliers, so forth.
It's not a pleasant thought.
MAC
(continuing)
So the Duke dug a tunnel--just in
case. They made the lake a hundred
years later. Flooded the tunnel.
GIN
We go underwater?
She doesn't like that idea.
MAC
We? Are you implying that I'm
taking you inside?
GIN
We're doing this together. We're
partners.
MAC
Precisely. You give me the Mask
security code, I steal the Mask,
you get a finders fee. At ten
percent, should be two or three
million at least. Not too bad.
This isn't at all what she wanted.
GIN
Look, the PIR grid is set at 20
centimeters. I'll have to be the
one to get under it.
He's interested she knows the lingo, but not interested
enough.
MAC
I go in alone.
GIN
You don't get the Mask code unless
I go.
He stands up, starts taking the photos down.
MAC
Pack up. I'll see you get back to
London.
GIN
Look, I can help. You need a
sensor expert. You've got one.
MAC
(he's patronizing her)
This isn't some Picasso print you
steal out of a car dealer's rec
room.
His patronizing tone is more than she can stand.
GIN
Picasso print? Car dealer's rec
room?
She has to pullout her trump card. And it's quite a card.
GIN
(continuing)
You don't have any idea how lucky
you are!
MAC
A lifelong problem, I'm afraid.
GIN
No, dammit! I mean me! That
Rembrandt...that Rembrandt!
He looks up at her. She has his attention now.
GIN
(continuing)
I stole it!
It's an amazing claim. We're not sure we believe her, and
neither is he.
MAC
Nice try. Everyone thinks I did.
GIN
That's because I wanted them to!
MAC
I wondered who'd been giving me a
bad name.
GIN
I drilled the bolts and went in
through the window. It was the
only way to bypass the smart glass.
MAC
True enough.
GIN
You need a partner for this job.
You'll never find one as good as
me.
Mac is thinking, maybe coming around.
MAC
The Rembrandt--that was quite good.
GIN
It was perfect.
Pride goeth before a fall. He stares at her for a moment with
a half smile on his face.
MAC
Perfect was it?
(beat)
Would you excuse me?
He goes over to the corner and picks up a familiar looking
mailing tube, from which he takes a rolled-up canvas.
MAC
(continuing)
Would you be referring to this
Rembrandt?
He displays the familiar painting.
MAC
(continuing)
Dear Bathsheba. You know the
story, of course. She and David have just
betrayed her husband. She's
wondering, will David betray her?
Now it's her turn to be shocked. Badly. She can't believe it.
MAC
(continuing)
You barely beat me to it. But
really, why rob the Penthouse when
the mailroom is on the ground
floor?
He's enjoying himself, but Gin is on her own agenda, trying
to figure out the implications of the Rembrandt not getting
to its destination.
GIN
Someone was expecting that.
MAC
You're too easily impressed with
yourself. I believe I've made that
point before.
We're adjusting to the fact she stole the painting, she's
adjusting to the fact it didn't get where it was supposed to.
GIN
This is bad. Really bad.
She's thinking about something entirely different, mentally
adjusting her plans.
MAC
The Elvis was a nice touch, not as
good as Manzini's Pepto Bismal
bottle, but nice.
She reaches for the Rembrandt.
GIN
I'll need that.
MAC
No one needs anything except food
and shelter. The rest we just want.
GIN
This isn't a good time to hear
your personal philosophy.
He studies the Rembrandt.
MAC
Don't worry, I can get rid of
this. No trace. And I'll even go
fifty fifty, we're partners aren't
we?
GIN
No. It's a down payment.
That piques his interest.
MAC
On what? Another job?
GIN
We get the Mask I'll tell you.
MAC
A partner with secrets isn't much
of a partner.
GIN
Without the Mask it doesn't matter.
MAC
So the Mask is part of the down
payment too. Must be a really big
job.
GIN
Let's just see how we do.
There's been a shift in the plate tectonics here. For the
first time she's the one who's caught him off-balance.
MAC
So you're testing me now?
GIN
Oh, I think you can do it.
Probably.
She smiles sweetly at him.
EXT. SAFEHOUSE-POOL-DAY
She's swimming underwater--down to one end and back. He's
checking a stop watch. She comes up right by him, gasping.
He immediately shoves her head under water and holds it there
as she struggles. The watch hits zero. He lets her up.
MAC
That's how much longer you'll have
to go, to get through the tunnel.
She chokes, spews water.
GIN
Why don't we take oxygen?
MAC
We are...for the tools.
He tosses her a towel.
MAC
(continuing)
You want to breathe or you want
the Mask?
She stares at him.
GIN
Let's do it again.
MAC
Try laps. Say a hundred.
He leaves her swimming in the pool.
EXT. SAFEHOUSE--DAY--MINUTES LATER
A delivery van drives up. A TRADESMAN steps out. He's mid-
forties, black. Mac meets him at the door.
TRADESMAN
Delivery for Andrew MacDougal,
Esquire.
He says it with perfect deference, perhaps even a bit too
much.
MAC
Take it around the back would you?
EXT. SAFEHOUSE--DAY--MOMENTS LATER
The truck drives around back.
Carrying a box, the Tradesman walks into the kitchen. This is
THIBADEAUX, a Cajun who carries himself with authority. The
Tradesman veneer didn't fit him too well: he's too dangerous.
Mac is there to meet him.
THIBADEAUX
I'm not real big on collecting
banged up Ferraris at airports.
MAC
Next time I'll use valet parking.
Thibadeaux sets down the box.
MAC
(continuing)
I'm sorry about Tina.
There's a lot of concealed emotion there.
MAC
(continuing)
I would have come--
And the emotion is best handled by sticking to business.
THIBADEAUX
You said small pneumatics, I got
small pneumatics. Got to be an elf
to use these.
Mac opens the box, picks up some flat black miniature tools,
handles them with expert ease.
THIBADEAUX
(continuing)
They work off the O2 tank just
like the slice pack.
MAC
Which is--
THIBADEAUX
In the van.
MAC
Tina was a wonderful woman.
THIBADEAUX
Don't go getting sentimental.
You're no damn good at it.
Thibadeaux walks out. Mac goes through the first box,
checking the high tech gear off against a list. Thibadeaux
comes in with another box.
MAC
I'd give you a hand but it
wouldn't look good.
THIBADEAUX
Yeah, the lord of the manor
doesn't haul his own groceries.
MAC
And you do it so well.
We see the tools as he checks them off. They look very cool.
MAC
(continuing)
The porta power...comm kits...got
the IR/Thermo camera?
THIBADEAUX
Had to get a liquid plasma screen.
MAC
The key to success is using the
right tools.
THIBADEAUX
You're not the one trying to get
all this shit. You think they've
just got a Crooks R Us on every
corner?
MAC
We're going to need a vacuum with
a battery pack for the dust. The
air filters might be wired. And a
bypass hose for the AC.
THIBADEAUX
Sure wouldn't want you to be
uncomfortable.
MAC
If we don't bypass it, the
temperature in the Mask room will
change and set off the alarm. That
would be inconvenient.
THIBADEAUX
Inconvenient is trying to find a
pulsing laser with magic arms in
two days.
MAC
You are a miracle worker.
Thibadeaux looks up at him, steel in those eyes. He walks
over to the window.
EXT. SAFEHOUSE--POOL--HIS VIEW
Gin swimming laps in the pool.
MAC
Don't worry. She's got thirty laps
to go. Which means she'll do forty.
He says it with grudging respect.
THIBADEAUX
So when do we do the dirty?
The implications of that are not pleasant.
MAC
We might not want to cash in our
chips just yet. She has another
job after this one. A big one.
THIBADEAUX
This is big enough.
MAC
It's never big enough.
There's a rough undercurrent here. It's not entirely clear
where the power lies, although it seems it's with Mac.
THIBADEAUX
Let me ask you, this Mask, when
they made it--was the old bitch
dead or alive?
MAC
It's a death mask. Death mask
means dead.
Thibadeaux makes a face.
THIBADEAUX
You call that art. I call it sick.
EXT. SAFEHOUSE--POOL--HIS VIEW
Gin gets out of the pool, sips some water, shakes the water
out of her ears. Caught unaware, without even trying she
looks incredibly beautiful.
INT. SAFEHOUSE--KITCHEN--SAME
Thibadeaux is watching her. An idea, call it a suspicion,
comes to him.
THIBADEAUX
You're keeping this business,
right?
Mac gives nothing away.
MAC
Right.
THIBADEAUX
Because I never assume anything.
MAC
I need you to get one more thing
for me. A dress, elegant but sexy,
something Grace Kelly would wear.
Maybe a Balenciaga.
THIBADEAUX
That's it, I sure as hell ain't no
personal shopper.
MAC
Black of course.
They exchange a look.
MAC
(continuing)
I'd say she's a size 6 who wears
a size 4.
THIBADEAUX
This better be worth 1t.
Mac looks out to where Gin is swimming.
MAC
Oh, it is.
THIBADEAUX
It better be worth it for me.
And there is no humor in his eyes.
EXT. SAFEHOUSE--DAY
Thibadeaux's delivery van drives away.
INT. SAFEHOUSE--DAY--FEW MINUTES LATER
Gin is in the living room, her hair still wet from swimming.
She is staring at the Turner and the casually arranged
mementos of his military service, the way a woman considers
how a place is decorated to be a window into the owner's soul.
Mac enters from the kitchen, carrying one of the boxes of
gear.
GIN
Did I hear a car?
MAC
Our equipment has arrived.
GIN
Hmmm.
He heads across the living room with the box. Her eyes go
around the room.
MAC
You coming, or are you casing the
joint?
She comes to a realization.
GIN
A woman did this.
He stops with the box, sets it down on a table.
GIN
(continuing)
All this, this is a woman's
version of what you would like.
MAC
It was a long time ago.
She waits for him to tell her more, but that's not going to
happen.
GIN
Who was she?
He picks the box back up.
MAC
I should get this place redone.
It's his way of telling her to buzz off.
GIN
I didn't mean to get personal.
MAC
Yes you did.
There are deep spaces here, vast Greenlands of buried emotion.
MAC
(continuing)
Unless physical labor is beneath
you, there are more boxes in the
kitchen.
He picks up the box, exits. She watches him go, then heads
into the kitchen.
PRACTICE MONTAGE
EXT. SAFEHOUSE--DAY
Gin and Mac are blowin' up balloons without taking a breath.
His balloon gradually deflates, hers keeps enlarging.
She cuts her eyes over to him as she keeps blowing. Then she
takes her balloon, squeezes it between her fingers, lets out
a few little squeaks, and then lets it go, sending it flying
around the room.
EXT. BEACH/GROUNDS--DAY
A maze of red yarn indicating the laser beams. Attached to
the yarn. are small bells, the kind that go on cat collars.
Gin is trying to navigate her way through it, but it's
possibly hard. She keeps touching the yarn and jingling the
bells.
INT. SAFEHOUSE--PLANNING ROOM--NIGHT
They practice hand signals together. It is like two deaf
mutes communicating. Back and forth they go, signaling a
problem and a solution, a way to go, the need for a tool.
They are getting more and more in synch.
EXT. SAFEHOUSE--NIGHT
Gin is blindfolded, practicing finding the tools in the dark
as Mac calls out the names. She can't see Mac watch her, but
we can, and knowing she can't see him lets him reveal how
fascinated he is with her.
EXT. BEACH--DAY
The maze of red yarn and bells strung across the sand. Gin
works her way through it, not touching anything as Mac times
her with a stop watch. We don't hear a single jingle.
INT. SAFEHOUSE--PLANNING ROOM--DAY
They're packing up all the gear. Tools into ziploc bags,
ziploc bags into black diving bags. Everything carefully
arranged. The walls are bare. They both have check~lists.
MAC
So how long to pop the floor?
GIN
Twenty four seconds--as long as it
takes the clock to strike twelve.
MAC
And you've checked the ram to be
sure it's synchronized with the
clock.
GIN
A dozen times.
MAC
The lipstick thermal camera?
She displays a small device on a headband.
GIN
Got it.
MAC
Charged?
GIN
Charged. Receiver?
Mac displays a ziploc hag.
MAC
And tested. Mask security card.
She holds up a card like an ATM card. She sets aside the
check list.
GIN
That's it. We're ready.
MAC
One more item--not on the check
list.
He produces a box. He gestures at her. Open it.
Puzzled, she does. There's a beautiful black dress inside.
MAC
(continuing)
I trust it's your size.
GIN
It's---beautiful.
She holds it up to herself.
GIN
(continuing)
You bought this for me?
MAC
Don't get any ideas. Of course it
comes out of your share.
But there's more there than that, a lot more.
GIN
I don't know what to say.
He offers her an option.
MAC
Thank you.
GIN
Thank you.
There's a held moment between them.
GIN
(continuing)
I haven't got anything for you.
He waves his hand--hardly necessary.
GIN
(continuing)
No, no, I want to. I'll just go
into the village.
MAC
It's not a village. There's
nothing there.
Mac looks pointedly at his watch.
GIN
Won't take any time.
MAC
Straight down the drive, right at
the hedgerow, follow the lane.
Don't blink, you'll miss it.
She puts the box under her arm, gives him a high wattage
smile, and departs on his face is the slightest trace of
suspicion.
EXT. COUNTRYSIDE--DAY
Gin rides a classic English estate bicycle down an isolated
country lane. There isn't a sign of habitation or humanity
anywhere.
EXT. VILLAGE--DAY
A small pub. A tiny post office and store. A phone call box.
That's it. Gin leans the bicycle against the phone box.
INT. SAFEHOUSE--DAY
Mac works a monitoring device. It is picking, up random phone
calls. We hear bits and pieces of conversations.
EXT. VILLAGE--DAY
Gin dials a number.
VOICE
Webber Insurance.
INT. MAC'S ROOM--DAY
We hear him listening to the phone call.
GIN
Hector Cruz on a secure line.
INT. MAC'S ROOM--DAY
And we see his face as he listens.
VOICE
Connecting.
The line goes as dead as Mac's face. He thinks for a moment,
then dials his own phone.
INT. WEBBER INSURANCE/EXT. VILLAGE--DAY--INTERCUT
Gin is talking to Cruz.
CRUZ
You don't call, you don't write.
GIN
This was my first excuse to get
away. I can't exactly use my cell
phone.
CRUZ
Yeah yeah yeah. What's the status?
GIN
We're getting close.
CRUZ
How close?
GIN
I don't know, but close.
CRUZ
This is dangerous. I'm sending
backup.
GIN
You, want to blow the whole thing,
go right ahead.
CRUZ
Don't overestimate yourself.
GIN
Look, trust me. I know what I'm
doing.
CRUZ
Where are you at least?
GIN
I'll send you a postcard. Got to
go.
She hangs up the phone.
EXT. COUNTRYSIDE--DAY
Gin on her bicycle, face intense, rushing to get back.
Suddenly she realizes she's forgotten something.
She passes a bed of wild roses in the heath. Ah ha.
She rides the bicycle off the road. Lays it on the grass.
Looks through the tangle of thorns. Picks one rose.
INT. SAFEHOUSE--DAY
Gin's door opens. She emerges in the new dress. We've never
seen her like this. She looks amazingly beautiful.
INT. SAFEHOUSE--DAY
Mac stands up as she enters, tentative, not sure.
And then his look tells her everything.
GIN
You like it?
It's a Pygmalian moment. If he hadn't overheard the first
part of that phone call he might be falling in love with her.
MAC
Certainly the most beautiful crook
I've ever seen.
GIN
I've got something for you.
And she produces the rose, which she then pins to the lapel
of his tuxedo. She's close to him. very close. We can feel
the energy between them.
GIN
(continuing)
Aren't we early?
MAC
Little celebration before we set
off.
INT. WINDMILL--DAY
Mac takes Gin up steep stairs. He's carrying a box.
EXT. WINDMILL--DAY
The emerge on top. They look out over the ocean. It's not a
place to be if you are truly afraid of heights. Gin goes a
little pale.
Mac opens the box. Inside is an ice bucket with a bottle of
champagne. She's truly touched. As he turns to open the
champagne she looks out.
He pours them each a glass.
GIN
To us. To the Mask.
MAC
To our...partnership.
They drink. Her hand is shaking again.
MAC
(continuing)
You're nervous again.
GIN
When I was a girl my father took
me to the edge of El Capitan.
Three thousand feet of granite.
Straight down. I was so scared my
mouth was full of cotton. I
couldn't talk, just stood there
shivering...like this.
MAC
You were afraid of heights?
GIN
Terrified. Still am.
MAC
How in the devil did you do the
Rembrandt then?
GIN
I had a lifeline. If I've got a
lifeline, I'm okay.
MAC
Aren't we all.
GIN
My father told me not to be
afraid. He'd always be there for
me.
She looks down at the rocks beneath. Shivers.
GIN
(continuing)
He wasn't.
MAC
So you had to be your own lifeline.
GIN
Something like that.
He thinks for a moment.
MAC
When I was a toddler, my father
set me up on the dresser. Jump he
said.
It was a hard stone floor, looked
about a mile down. About as far as
this.
She pulls back from the edge.
MAC
(continuing)
Come on jump. I'll catch you. He
held out his arms, so I held my
breath and I jumped.
She's right with him.
GIN
And--
MAC
He pulled back his arms and blam,
I landed right on the floor.
I picked myself up, tears in my
eyes, and he looked at me and he
said, Son, don't ever trust
anybody. Anybody.
She stares at him. He drops the champagne glass over the
side. Down, down, down it goes, so far we don't hear it
shatter on the rocks.
It's a long way down. We can't gauge what he's going to do.
will he confront her? Is she in danger?
MAC
(continuing)
Anything else we need to talk
about?
She stares at him for a moment, but his face is a mask.
MAC
(continuing)
one more thing you'll need.
He hands her an elegant black mask.
MAC
(continuing)
For the Mask, they're having a
masked ball. Everyone pretends to
be someone else.
She takes the mask, shivers.
GIN
I'm cold.
She heads down the stairs.
EXT. MUSEUM--DAY
We swoop in on the museum in all its manorial magnificence.
Guests arrive over the bridge. We see the lake with swans, a
tent over the entrance, great festivities.
EXT. MUSEUM--DAY
Closer now. Guests getting out of cars. Everyone is in masks.
Gin and Mac sweep in with the rest of the crowd as attendants
check names against a guest list.
INT. MUSEUM--DAY
A great hall. Musicians in the balcony. He and Gin stroll in
and pause at the entrance. In front of them, in the next
room, the doors open and we see the Mask, beautifully and
simply displayed in a glass box.
They pause and look at it for a beat, then stroll to the
right down the corridor.
INT. MUSEUM--CORRIDOR--SAME
Bookshelves, paintings, odd exhibits.
MAC
Camera in the--
GIN
Bookshelf. Sensors--
MAC
Popup, on floorboards. And--
GIN
In eye of that painting.
A WAITER approaches with a tray of champagne. He's dressed as
a footman.
WAITER
Champagne?
MAC
Not for me.
GIN
Yes, please.
She takes a glass. the Waiter moves on.
MAC
We're working.
GIN
It's a party.
MAC
Let's mingle a little, shall we?
She nods and walks one way, he walks another.
INT. MUSEUM--ANOTHER CORRIDOR--DAY
Mac stares at some tin soldiers displayed next to some large
stuffed fish.
Thibadeaux is dressed in 18th Century clothes, tights, pumps,
powdered wig, powdered face. He's not happy. Mac tries not to
be amused.
MAC
I said a masked ball, not a
costume party.
THIBADEAUX
How the hell I'm supposed to know
the damn difference?
MAC
You look like George Washington.
THIBADEAUX
I cannot tell you a goddamned lie.
She's selling you a pig in a poke.
We better do this tonight.
MAC
It's too soon.
THIBADEAUX
The early bird gets the damn worm.
MAC
But the second mouse gets the
cheese.
He lets that sit there.
MAC
(continuing)
So patience, Thibeau, patience.
Trust me.
THIBADEAUX
Remind me why.
MAC
Because it pays off.
Thibadeaux thinks about that. There's a crafty intelligence
behind his eyes.
THIBADEAUX
You two make quite a couple.
MAC
We're supposed to.
THIBADEAUX
You better not be taking on a new
partner.
MAC
Suspicious, after all these years?
THIBADEAUX
You change partners, you change
the rules.
Gin strolls up behind Thibadeaux. Mac switches gears.
MAC
Could you get me a gin and tonic,
please, actually, a mint julep
would be nice.
Thibadeaux looks at him like he's lost his mind.
MAC
(continuing)
Oh, look at me, darling. I thought
this gentleman was a waiter.
THIBADEAUX
You damn well thought wrong.
MAC
I'm terribly sorry old man.
Thibadeaux strides away.
GIN
(re: Thibadeaux)
Interesting choice of dress.
The music changes to something very danceable.
MAC
It's an arty crowd. Dance?
INT. MUSEUM--GREAT HALL--DAY
They swirl out onto the floor, Gin floating in Mac's arms.
She moves like a dream. Her eyes never leave his face.
Anyone looking would believe they were completely in love.
GIN
One, two, three...
MAC
You're not on the beat.
She smiles as if making small talk.
GIN
Don't turn. I'm counting the steps
to the entrance.
MAC
These rooms are solid stone. They
haven't changed.
GIN
You can't be too careful.
MAC
Yes, you can.
(beat)
You can spoil a perfectly nice
dance.
And he swirls her away. We pull back from the dancers until
all we see is the two of them and then light and motion and
then the light and motion DISSOLVES TO blackness and...
EXT. MUSEUM LAKE--NIGHT
CRANE DOWN from bridge as car exiting the now-quiet museum
crosses to reveal a SMALL BLACk ZODIAC with two black clad
figures--Mac and Gin, dressed in black wet suits. Mac has a
black diving bag over one shoulder and an oxygen bottle over
the other. Gin has the slice pack and a black diving bag.
They both have lights mounted on head bands.
MAC
Ready?
GIN
Ready.
Mac pulls on his face mask and slides over backwards into the
black water.
Gin puts her face mask on, follows behind him.
EXT. MUSEUM LAKE--UNDER WATER
We see Mac swimming through the murky water. Once he gets
under the bridge he switches on his head lamp. Up ahead, in
the murky light, we see a window covered with rusted bars.
Mac pulls out his slice pack and gestures with his hand to
Gin. Gin gives him a rod, which he attaches to the slice
pack. He turns on the valve, pulls the trigger, the bar
ignites in a white light. He begins to burn the bar.
We are on Gin's face behind the mask. She's trying to hold
her breath. One bar goes, then another.
Mac is concentrating, but the bars aren't burning as fast as
they should. Gin signals with her hands that she's in trouble.
We're close on the bars, the white light, the murky water.
Mac very intense.
Finally he burns through the third bar.
With a kick he pushes the bars aside. Gin is about to lose
it. He waves her through. She squeezes through the bars.
He comes next, but it's a tight squeeze for him. He
struggles, but... stuck! Up ahead we see Gin's light dimly
receding.
Mac's low on air. He pushes with all his strength. He's
through!
Desperately close to running out of air, Gin reaches some
flooded steps. She scrambles up using her hands and feet.
INT. BRIDGE BASEMENT--SAME--NIGHT
She bursts through the surface, gasping. One breath, another.
Then she looks around. No Mac.
GIN
Mac. Mac!
She's far more anxious than she would ever have expected to
be. Then she sees his light coming up the submerged steps.
He bursts out beside her, half-drowned, spouting water. For
a moment they lie there, gasping.
GIN
(continuing)
I thought you were--
Mac looks at his watch.
MAC
Let's go.
There's no time to waste. Mac stows the slice pack, they turn
off their head lamps and head up the tunnel.
INT. MUSEUM--TUNNEL--NIGHT
The two of them making their way up the tunnel, lights out.
The only light comes from the museum's exterior floodlights
which shine dimly down a manhole up ahead. They pass one
manhole, then another, then another.
INT. MUSEUM--TUNNEL--NIGHT
They reach the fourth manhole and climb up the existing metal
ladder.
INT. MUSEUM--TUNNEL--NIGHT
The manhole cover lifts. Mac throws his black bag up, then
comes up himself. Gin tosses her black bag up, then comes up
after him.
Mac opens his ops vest and pulls out his schematic, which is
in a watertight bag. He switches on a tiny penlight on his
head band and reads the map.
He looks up and spots the AC return duct and points Gin down
the long corridor.
INT. MUSEUM--BASEMENT--NIGHT
They come to a junction. Mac starts to take out his map but
Gin knows the way. She points left. For a moment he
hesitates, really wants to check the map, but he trusts her
and goes left.
INT. MUSEUM--BASEMENT--NIGHT
They reach a junction of three ducts. Mac looks around the
basement room, which is filled with an old furnace. Off to
one side is a coal bin, to the other a firewood bin.
Gin begins taking the tools out of their ziplock bags and
laying them on a waterproof sheet of plastic as if she is
preparing for surgery.
He drags over a log used to split firewood, then stands on
it, checking the bolts on the duct.
MAC
Nut driver, number six. Pneumatic.
Gin attaches a nut driver to the air tool, passes it up.
MAC
(continuing)
Ready.
She turns on the regulator. With the faintest pop pop pop the
nuts come undone. He takes the duct cover and hands it to
Gin. Gin sets it down and hands Mac the flexible hose and
plate which he attaches as a bypass for the a.c.
Then he studies the ceiling where he has opened the duct.
MAC
(continuing)
Concrete. It's always concrete.
Gin passes him the concrete-burning rod and the slice pack.
GIN
Hold for the vacuum.
She attaches the vacuum. Mac pulls on his mask and gloves.
MAC
Oh-two.
Gin turns on the oxygen, Mac pulls the trigger and begins to
cut through the stone with the flame.
GIN
Six minutes.
Melting stone pours out into the vacuum.
CLOSE ON CONCRETE
Mac has removed a large area, through which we can see the
bottom of a square of marble.
MAC (O.S.)
I've got the marble.
INT. MUSEUM-BASEMENT-NIGHT
Mac hands down the cutting rod. Gin passes him a ram. Mac
places the ram with its right angle wedged into the concrete
and its rubber top pressed against the marble. The hose
attached to the ram drops down.
Gin attaches it to the O2 tank.
MAC
Give me a little.
She turns it on gently so the ram tightens in place.
MAC
(continuing)
The other one.
She passes up the second ram.
INT. MUSEUM--MASK ROOM--NIGHT
The Mask sits in its case, dimly lit. We see the gently
pulsing lights of the security system.
All the doors are closed. We find the clock. It is almost
midnight.
INT. MUSEUM--BASEMENT--NIGHT
Gin turns on the other tank. She looks at her watch. Mac
watches her.
INT. MUSEUM--MASK ROOM--NIGHT
The clock reaches midnight. The first chime strikes. As it
does we see a piece of marble vibrate and the grout around it
crack.
INT. MUSEUM-BASEMENT--NIGHT
Gin holds her watch, hand on O2 tank. She turns it again. We
see the ram pound into the marble just as the clock chimes
again. From down here we hear a dull thud beneath the chime.
INT. MUSEUM CORRIDOR--SAME
The debris from the party hasn't been cleaned up. A GUARD
comes slowly down the hall with his dog. Every few feet he
stops to sample a glass of leftover champagne.
INT. MUSEUM--MASK ROOM--NIGHT
The marble is about three inches off the floor and delicately
balanced on the rams. Through the space we can just get a
glimpse of Mac.
INT. MUSEUM--BASEMENT--NIGHT
Mac has his hands on the marble.
MAC
Rollers.
She hands him black pipes which she is assembling as she
hands them up. He places them under the marble.
MAC
(continuing)
Gently, very gently.
Working the O2 tank, she lowers the marble onto the rollers.
Mac holds it carefully to be sure it's balanced, then rolls
it away. The basement is bathed in the gentle dim light of
the Mask room.
Mac starts to step down. Gin attaches her head band which
contains a lipstick CCD thermal camera and transmitter. She
slips the felt-lined water proof bag that will hold the Mask
over her shoulder, then steps up onto the log and reaches her
hands up into the hole, getting a grip on the marble floor.
Mac gives her a boost. Just barely can she wriggle through.
INT. MUSEUM-MASK ROOM/MUSEUM BASEMENT--INTERCUT
Gin lies motionless on the floor.
Mac has an LCD monitor which shows him the grid of PIR of the
motion sensors. We see what he sees.
INT. MASK ROOM/INT. BASEMENT--CLOSE ON LCD MONITOR
The room in negative, with a maze of laser beams
crisscrossing. It looks almost exactly like the maze of red
yarn on the beach, but not quite. We see Gin just beneath the
maze. There's no margin for error.
MAC
You're at the edge of the ground.
Don't move. Look left.
She does barely lifting her head. Each movement of her head
re-directs the lipstick camera on her headband.
MAC
(continuing)
Look right.
She does. The image on his screen changes.
MAC
(continuing)
Straight ahead. Up.
She barely moves her head, points it at a painting above the
door.
MAC
(continuing)
Got it.
He passes up the tripod with three laser lights. She
carefully sets up the tripod and mounts the first light.
GIN
Contact.
Mac turns on the laser. We see a red beam stream out directly,
into the PIR sensor.
MAC
Can you see the other PIRs?
GIN
Got it.
She does the same thing with the second laser. Now we have
two beams going out to each doorway.
INT. MUSEUM CORRIDOR--SAME
The guard has made his way closer to the Mask room. He
wobbles a little. Then he stops and bends down and feeds the
dog some leftover cake. Then he offers the dog some champagne.
INT. MUSEUM BASEMENT--SAME
We are on Mac now, watching his monitor.
GIN
Can't find the last one.
She scans with her head.
GIN
(continuing)
They moved it.
MAC
Behind you.
She has to turn 180 degrees without disturbing any of the
existing beams or the one she hasn't found.
GIN
Got it.
She knocks out the last PIR.
Now we have three beams, slightly but significantly different
than what she practiced.
MAC
I know it's different. You can do
it.
She doesn't say anything. All we hear is her breathing.
MAC
(continuing)
Be careful not to break the laser
beams.
GIN
Duh.
That makes her mad enough to get going. She slowly slides
across the floor. After a moment she begins to maneuver under
and around the beams. It's like the hardest limbo stick in
the world.
Finally she makes it to the Mask. A few random lights are
playing around the Mask.
She takes out a special CARD and slips it into a reader. The
lights go out.
GIN
(continuing)
Thank you God.
She lifts the cover off.
MAC
Careful, it's weight sensitive.
She knows that. She carefully lifts the Mask, sliding a knife
under it as she lifts. She slowly glides the Mask over to the
edge of its pedestal while holding the knife down.
Then she takes a strip of double adhesive attached to a metal
strip, pulls the adhesive back with one hand.
MAC
(continuing)
Careful...careful.
GIN
Shut up.
She slides the strip in where the knife was. Then she takes
a breath. Mac does too.
MAC
You're forgetting something.
She picks up the Mask, slips it into the bag around her neck.
INT. MUSEUM--CORRIDOR/INT. MUSEUM--SECURITY CENTER--NIGHT
The Guard is approaching the Mask Room. Somewhat drunk, his
dog sits down. The Guard talks to CONTROL, the night
dispatcher, who is definitely more together than Nigel.
GUARD
This is Nigel.
CONTROL
Still awake, mate?
GUARD
Just barely. I'm at the Mask Room.
Shut down the alarm for a walk
through.
He waits outside the door.
GUARD
(continuing)
They left a right proper mess out
here.
CONTROL
Okay now, alarm down, you're
clear. Stay lively.
The Guard walks in. He shines his light around the room,
right over where the marble floor piece had been opened. It's
back in place.
He scans the walls. All of a sudden his light hits the Mask
case.
There's a mask there, but it's Gin's party mask. The real
mask is gone.
EXT. MUSEUM LAKE--NIGHT
Mac comes up into the boat, slips off his Mask. Gin comes up,
gasping, thrilled.
GIN
We did it.
MAC
The Mask.
She undoes it from around her neck, slings it up to him.
She reaches up her hand, expecting him to help her in. He
doesn't. He stares at her, dark, baleful.
MAC
(continuing)
Now's when you tell me who you
really are.
GIN
What?
He shoves her head under the dark murky water, then pulls her
by the hair. She comes up gasping. In the b.g. we see
lights pop up in the first drain. An alarm goes off in the
Museum.