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NEXT TIME By Ryan Perry ©Ryan Perrry, 2003 EXT. STOP N SAVE GAS STATION -- LATE NIGHT DETAIL INSERT of parking space. MAIN TITLE FADES IN. NEXT TIME... A car pulls up to the parking space on the side of the Station. The place is deserted, as well as the surrounding streets. Three people are in the car, all in their mid-twenties; two young men in the front and a female in the back. The FRONT SEAT passenger jumps out. He slams the door shut and leans inside with a huge smile. FRONT SEAT Last stop, we're almost fucken outta here. The man darts towards the Store entrance, the DRIVER calls to him. DRIVER Hurry up, already. The Driver quickly swings out of the parking space and pulls his car around the corner, up parallel with the front of the store. He mutters quietly to himself. DRIVER Hurry up, hurry up, hur-ry up. The Driver grinds his teeth and shifts nervously in his seat. He can't sit still and neither can his jerky BACK SEAT passenger. DRIVER What the fuck is he doing? Come on..come on man. He tries to see in the store, but high magazine racks block his view. He inches his car forward. BACK SEAT Hey, do you think...Hey!... DRIVER (dismissively) Yes? Huh? Maybe later... The Driver can now see inside the store. He looks on, slack-jawed, as his friend, inside, is pointing a .45 caliber pistol at the store clerk's head. DRIVER What the fuck is he doing? The BACK SEAT passenger looks up sees what's going on. She speaks with a sense of urgency in the voice. BACK SEAT We need to get going, now. He's lost it. DRIVER This is the last thing we need right now. BACK SEAT Go in there and get him. DRIVER I'm not fucking going in there. You go and get him. INT. STOP N SAVE -- NIGHT FRONT SEAT I said give me the fucken money! Now! The clerk is shaking so bad he can barely stand. He can't be more then eighteen or nineteen years old. This is his family's store. The young man tries to fight off tears as he replies. CLERK I..you have...I gave it all... FRONT SEAT Bullshit! I know ya got more. Where's the fucken safe? EXT. STOP N SAVE -- NIGHT BACK SEAT Better go in there before he does something stupid. We don't have time to play fuck-around. The sooner we hit the road, the better. The Driver glances over at the pumps, then at the trash stuck to the chainlink fence bordering the Station, and finally back at his friend through the window. DRIVER I don't see any cars. BLAM! The clerk's head explodes and he falls. DRIVER We really gotta go, now! BACK SEAT Oh this is fucked. Front Seat comes running out with that same huge smile on his face and hops into the car. He's pumped up and excited. FRONT SEAT Whoa, did ya see that? The Driver slams the gas and they tear through the Station. DRIVER Why the fuck did you shoot him? Why? BACK SEAT You fucken idiot! You're real smart, you know that? The car flies out of the Gas Station and WHAM! - They get t-boned by another vehicle. The three occupants are tossed around like rag dolls. Squealing breaks, screeching tires, glass breaking, metal crumpling. The car spins like a top. SHOCK CUT TO: BLACK SCREEN. ANOTHER TITLE CARD APPEARS. ...36 Hours Earlier... FADE IN: INT. SAN FRANCISCO STREETS -- NIGHT HEAD CREDITS ROLL over a MONTAGE: a large black Mercedes cruises the city streets, flanked by a late model Eclipse and Mirage. EXT. CLUB 210 -- NIGHT The vehicles end their journey in front of the Jamaican owned nightclub, CLUB 210. There are TWO huge DREADLOCKED DOORMEN out front. They exchange a quick glance when the cars pull up. Muffled reggae music creeps out of the expensive club. The two sports cars empty and young Chinese men, all in their mid-twenties, exit and take up positions next to their vehicles. They scan up and down the street. The driver of the Benz steps out. He rushes around and opens up the curbside passenger door. FOUR slick looking Chinese men step out. They are middle-aged, dressed in pressed silk suits. One man steps up the bouncers. He walks with purpose and dignity. This is BOSS CHEN QUAN LONG, head of the San Francisco chapter of the TRIAD gang, 14K. The TWO DOORMEN step aside and hold open the doors. Loud music, coupled with the pungent clinging odor of marijuana smoke, pours out onto the street. One DOORMAN speaks to the BOSS QUAN LONG, in a thick Jamaican accent. DOORMAN Good evening, Mister Long. Mighty fine ting, you comin out to see us mon. QUAN LONG shrugs and enters. INT. HALLWAY, CLUB 201 -- NIGHT The Chinese men are led down a narrow corridor and turn left, down a wide hallway. They pass a caged booth housing a well-dressed, but scantily clad black woman. The end of the hallway opens up to the club. INT. ENTRANCE -- NIGHT At the entrance are two Jamaican BOUNCERS seated, dressed in tuxedos. Their automatic weapons clearly visible underneath their jackets. They stand when they see Long and his friends. BOUNCER King Mukimbo been spectin you, mon. Right tis way. INT. MAIN ROOM -- NIGHT As the men enter the club, a middle-aged gang banger carrying a pistol runs across the dance floor towards the entrance, almost knocking the Chinese men down. Three Jamaicans are on his heels as he darts down the hallway. Once they have collected themselves, they can see that the club is filled with very obviously wealthy people, most are under the age of thirty. Black tie is NOT optional here. This place is high class, to say the least. Gorgeous women in satin lace dance wildly from two platforms that border the dance floor. A live band on stage blasts out the reggae tunes. Beautiful black cocktail waitresses serve drinks to the many private booths that line the club walls. In every corner stands a tuxedo-clad stiff looking Jamaican man, poised, ready for any shit to go down. The BOUNCER leads the Chinese men to a stairway at the rear of the club. FOUR MORE GUARDS, in tuxes, stand at the bottom of the stairs. They look at the Chinese men, then at each other. One addresses Quan Long. GUARD #1 Sorry boss, but we gotta check one ting. Long nods and steps aside. He watches as the THREE GUARDS frisk the other Chinese men and come up with three semi-automatic pistols. Long looks down his nose at the main guard. The other guards pocket the found side arms and step aside. GUARD #1 Hey, it's ok mon, we all friends 'ere. THE GUARD steps aside and the Chinese men ascend up the stairs. EXT. KING MUKIMBO'S PRIVATE ROOM -- NIGHT Six Tuxedo-clad bodyguards are seated in front of the door to Mukimbo's room. They pass their spliff back and forth. Long walks up to one GUARD and clears his throat. The guard makes no effort to look at Boss Long when he addresses him. GUARD #2 Wait 'ere a sec, relax mon. He turns away from the Chinese men and speaks some inaudible words into a microphone in his lapel. He holds his earpiece tight against his ear. After a brief pause, he nods. He turns back to Quan Long group. GUARD #2 Da King will see ya now. He holds open the door and a large cloud of smoke billows out. INT. KING MUKIMBO'S PRIVATE ROOM -- NIGHT The ROOM is filled with smoke. There are tables in the middle, bordered by a large bar on one side and booths on the other. There are naked women everywhere. Waitresses, dressed only in a French maid hats pass out drinks to the many guests. A small group of men sit around a table snorting coke. Across the room there is a women riding a Jamaican. On the other side, five sweaty Jamaicans watch two women go at it. Against the back wall in a large chair, puffing on an oversized spliff, sits KING MUKIMBO, leader of the San Francisco chapter of the Jamaican organized crime syndicate, the SHOWER POSSE. The King stands when spots Long and his crew enter. His dreadlocks, grayed with age, stretch past his feet. He holds up his arms and shouts from across the room. MUKIMBO Boss Long, glad ya could make it. Da Shower Posse know how to do it right. Me was worrin' bout you. Come, sit. Long and his group walk over and join their counterparts. He shakes Mukimbo's hand. MUKIMBO Sit, please, sit. Quan Long sits at one the tables in front of the King. His men follow. There they sit, two of the most powerful and undoubtedly, the most dangerous men, in the San Francisco underworld. MUKIMBO Drinks? You need drinks. Sorry we all outta sake, plenty of Red Stripe mon. Long is perturbed by this, but remains his composure. LONG Chinese don't drink sáke, that's for Jap filth. Mukimbo laughs. MUKIMBO Ja mon, me know, all well, Me jus, a fucken witcha. Be to stiff, boss-mon, need ta relax. Long, slides back in his seat, just a little. MUKIMBO (to a servant) Bring dem some of de finest ganja we got. (to Long) Miss Janice will fix ya right up, ya see. Quan Long is growing impatient; this place disgusts him and Mukimbo disgusts him. LONG Should you clear the room? You did want to talk, business, did you not? The King chuckles, then admits with a smile, MUKIMBO Ah, tis ok, china-mon. Dey all gotta be ok to be in 'ere. Dey all guards and such, 'cept for de women. JANICE returns with a plate containing several large spliffs scattered amongst some large marijuana buds. She holds the tray to Mukimbo, he removes a spliff and runs it under his nose, as if the thing were a fine cigar. Janice sets the tray on the table and EXITS. Mukimbo lights the spliff and attempts to pass it to Quan Long. He graciously nods his head "no". Mukimbo passes it to another Chinese man and he accepts. Quan Long looks hurried or rushed. He wants to get on with business and get out of there. The King is Long's competition and lately, his enemy. He really despises Mukimbo. MUKIMBO What's de rush, mon? We got lot's a fine herb, plenty of fine women, good drink, relax mon. Long eases back in his seat. A Waitress HANDS him a cocktail and exits. Long looks at the drink with disgust and sets it down. He turns his attention towards Mukimbo. LONG Mukimbo, why have you called us here? Mukimbo looks puzzled, or maybe he was just caught off guard. MUKIMBO Talk, talk. You gotta relax mon. Yer friends seems to like the ganja! Long turns to his men, who are still smoking. He discreetly mutters a few choice words in Chinese and the men put the joint out. He turns back to Mukimbo. MUKIMBO Ok, ok. We talk mon. I gotta proposition for ya. Long forces a smile. This must be a joke. LONG From you? MUKIMBO Ja mon, from me. LONG With all do respect, King Mukimbo, I am in no mood for jokes. MUKIMBO It's notta joke. I gotta a serious proposition. LONG What kind of proposition? Mukimbo leans back in his chair and takes a long drag on his spliff. BEAT. He Exhales. MUKIMBO De kind that make a lot of money. Long nods. MUKIMBO There be a lot of da horse, comin' in harbor in tamorraw evening. LONG Yes, I am aware of that. MUKIMBO Good, den you also aware dat it belongs to de Russian. LONG Yes. MUKIMBO Russian notta friend to me. He notta friend to china-mon, either. LONG Let me see if I understand you correctly. He pauses and the King nods. LONG You want my Triads to help you steal the smack? You'll start a war in the streets of San Francisco. MUKIMBO Der be no waar, if yah help us. No Russian gonna stand up to both our groups. Me think we be too strong. LONG You have no loyalties to my group. Why should I trust you? Mukimbo STANDS. He says something in the ear of a bodyguard standing next to him. The bodyguard EXITS. Mukimbo sits and presses a button on his side table. A small TV screen flips up. DETAIL INSERT TV screen: outside entrance to private room, six guards sit around. MUKIMBO I seen on the TV, one of my men nah look at you when he speak. LONG Yes, that is true. MUKIMBO Dat disrespectful, even to you, china-mon. The BODYGUARD appears, this time with the man who insulted Long. He walks him up to the King and forcefully leans the man over the edge of an adjacent table. Mukimbo stands, and removes a huge machete from his waistband. In one quick swipe of the long blade, the man's head separates. It rolls down the table. Blood SPRAYS out of the gaping neck. The body falls to side, on the floor. The other guests are obviously shocked, but reserved in their actions. They pretend like they saw nothing and attempt to go about their business. Long doesn't flinch, he maintains his staunch appearance. His men, however, react differently and leap up and jump back. MUKIMBO I loved dat boy. Was my sista's boyfriend's cousin's friend. But dat shows ya that I'm serious. Long nods in approval, he's satisfied. The King sits. LONG What are you prepared to offer me in return for our assistance? Mukimbo searches the ceiling with his eyes, as is looking for the answer. He already knows what he going to say, he's just playing along. MUKIMBO We gonna give yah all of de upper east side of de bay, control of de sex shops down south. LONG What about the white? Mukimbo smiles. MUKIMBO Me wants it, me wants it all mon. Da territory gonna make your Fourteen-K a lot better. Your gang's been struggling lately. Ya could use more room to operate. LONG The Fourteen-K is fine. We have plenty of "room". What concerns me is the product in the crates. MUKIMBO What about the Shower Posse? We don't gotta make no money? Huh? We got cut off from the islands, ya know. What we got ‘ere is it. LONG Give us half of what's on that boat. MUKIMBO We give yah one-turd. Dat be final. LONG Ok. Well, thank you for your time and your, unique, hospitality. Long stands. The King stops him with a hand gesture. MUKIMBO Hold on let me think. (pause) Ok mon, ya got it, half. He and Long shake hands and the Chinese men are led out. Once the door shuts, KENTE, a captain in the King's gang, leans towards the Mukimbo. KENTE I don't know what's gotten into you...you must be up to something. The King laughs. EXT. CLUB 201 -- NIGHT The exterior door opens and Long and his men are lead out into the street. The driver opens the doors and they step inside the Benz. INT. LONG'S BENZ, MOVING -- NIGHT Long, in the backseat, turns to his right hand man CHIN LEE, 33. LONG (CHINESE) Something is not right. Take some men, see if you can find out what's going on. CHIN Sure thing, boss. LONG Take Jing along, make it...an educational experience for the boy. Chin nods. CHIN A gem cannot be polished without friction, nor a man perfected without trials. Long smiles and nods. LONG True, very true. You understand well. INT. JING WONG'S APARTMENT -- NIGHT The apartment is very well furnished and over looks the bay. On the kitchen table sits dinner, half eaten. The TV plays the late show. JING WONG, 22, is an assistant to the legal advisor of Boss Long and the old man's nephew. He's more like a son though; his parents died when he was young and the boss raised him as a son. Currently Jing is wrestling with his girlfriend, SUSAN CHOW, 24, on the living room floor. They are both laughing like crazy. She breaks free. JING (ENGLISH) Hey come back here. SUSAN (laughing, taunting) Gotta catch me first! She cuts through the huge apartment and runs down the hallway leading to the bedroom. Jing is not far behind. JING Better run... Susan flops on the bed and Jing jumps on her. They roll; laughing, kissing, hugging. Suddenly, the phone rings. Jing reaches for it, but Susan grabs his arm. SUSAN Not so fast, mister. He gently pushes her aside and pick up the phone. JING (to Susan) I have to answer it, could be Uncle Long. (phone) Hello? She tries to knock the phone out his hands. He fumbles with the phone, but gets it back to his ear. JING (phone) Huh? (to Susan) Sssh. His mood changes and he pushes her away, hard. He listens intently. SUSAN Hey! JING (CHINESE) (phone) Yeah, sure, I'll be right down. He hangs up the phone. SUSAN (ENGLISH) What's wrong? JING Work. SUSAN Tonight? The legal office is only open during the day. JING I don't think it's that kind of work. SUSAN What? So now your uncle has you working nights? What kind of work is it, if it's not paralegal work? That's all you do. And you're just an advisor. JING I don't know. But I have to go. My parents died when I was young, and Uncle has raised me as his son. He's invested a lot of time and money in me. I am in his debt. You know this. Susan looks disappointed. Jing admires his feet for a moment, and then looks towards his girlfriend. His smile returns and he rolls over onto her. EXT. JING'S APARTMENT, STREET -- NIGHT Jing exits the apartment complex, this time dressed in a very expensive silk suit. He is greeted on the street by a black BMW with tinted windows. He looks up and down the street, and then hops in. The car speeds off. INT. BMW, MOVING -- NIGHT Inside, the car is full of equally well-dressed Chinese gangsters. In the back seat next to Jing are, DAVID YAU, 24, and TOBY WONG,27(no relation). Chin Lee rides shotgun and LAW MON, 31, drives. CHIN (CHINESE) (without turning around) Little late, huh? Boss ain't gonna be happy. JING Ah, sorry, Chief Chin. I was, ah, you caught me in the middle of something. David sniffs the air. DAVID Huh, you call that girlfriend of yours "something" now? David and Toby LAUGH. Law snickers. CHIN Well, just don't make it a habit, ok? DAVID He already has, that's why she's his girl. CHIN I meant about being late, stupid. Jing tries to steer the conversation away from Susan. JING Ah, so where we headed? CHIN Boss wants us to check up on the Shower Posse. TOBY They're nothing but trouble. JING The Shower Posse? They're Jamaicans, right? Aren't they our rivals? CHIN Yes. JING Why are they called that? DAVID Because they shower their enemies with lead. Rain bullets down on anyone who stands in their way. JING That doesn't sound good. LAW One cannot refuse to eat just because there is a chance of being choked. CHIN We're just going to talk to them, ask them a few questions. Everybody laughs except Jing, who just sits there with an uncomfortable look on his face. EXT. SOUTHSIDE WAREHOUSE -- NIGHT Two large Russians stand outside an old warehouse on an empty street, on the empty side of town. The area has that let-go look and graffiti covers most of surrounding walls and building exteriors. It's all in sharp contrast to their designer label suits. A thin ray of light pokes through the blinds of an upper floor window. INT. SOUTHSIDE WAREHOUSE -- NIGHT Inside the dimly lit upper floor office sits a clean-cut American man, in his thirties. A hand comes out of the shadows to refill his drink. Across from him sits an older man, his face obscured by the shadows. He addresses the American in a thick Russian accent. STRENOKOV So, you ready for tomorrow? The American nods. STRENOKOV Good. I'm sure you won't let us down. EXT. SHIPPING DOCKS -- NIGHT The BMW screams around a tight corner. LAW cuts the headlights and they slowly cruise the docks. EXT. WAREHOUSE #10 -- NIGHT The BMW comes to stop just on the other side of Warehouse #10, the Jamaican controlled holding facility. INT. BMW, PARKED -- NIGHT Jing looks around. JING (ENGLISH) Where are we? TOBY We are at the docks. Over there, on your left, the other side of those buildings, is one of the Jamaican controlled holding facilities. CUT TO: INT. WAREHOUSE #10 -- NIGHT TOBY (V.O.) One of the King's lower bosses, Tununga, runs this place. He's in charge of nearly two thirds of the docks that the Jamaicans control. In the Warehouse, there are around thirty Jamaicans; some playing cards, others keeping watch while Tununga enjoys himself. There is coke and booze everywhere. TUNUNGA, a whale of a man, is lounging on a recliner, near his desk. A girl's head bobs up and down in his lap and soiled underpants cling to his ankles. He sips on a large bottle of gin, laughing and sloshing it everywhere. BACK TO: INT. BMW, PARKED -- NIGHT Chin, from the front seat, addresses Jing's eyes in the rear view mirror. CHIN (CHINESE) Your nice Uncle Long wants me to give you an education. You're getting older, time you started learning what it's like on the street, down here; away from those fancy office buildings. He turns around to face Jing and smiles. CHIN We're going to teach you how we do business; how this family, your family, does business. Are you up for it? Jing pauses, thinking, then nods. CHIN Stick close to me, you'll do fine. (to the others) Ok, boys, lets have some fun! The men begin removing various pistols from hidden holsters and inspecting them. Jing looks on, slightly nervous and somewhat anxious. INT. WAREHOUSE #10 -- NIGHT Jamaican men are playing cards, smoking, drinking. INT. BMW, PARKED -- NIGHT Arms and hands remove HK MP5 submachine guns and a Benelli shotgun from under the seats. Someone hands Jing a MP5, he timidly accepts. INT. WAREHOUSE #10 -- NIGHT Three Jamaicans sitting far from the others are keeping watch near the open entrance. Each holds an automatic weapon. INT. BMW, PARKED -- NIGHT Hands are slapping magazines into the automatic weapons. INT. WAREHOUSE #10 -- NIGHT An older Jamaican man is slapping down his cards and laughing. INT. BMW, PARKED -- NIGHT Hands are pulling back the slides on the weapons. INT. WAREHOUSE #10 -- NIGHT The girl is giving Tununga a lap dance. INT. BMW, PARKED -- NIGHT Fingers are loading 12gauge shotgun shells. INT. WAREHOUSE #10 -- NIGHT Tununga is snorting cocaine off the girl's chest. INT. BMW, MOVING -- NIGHT Law's POV: car tears around a corner and heads towards the Warehouse entrance. INT. WAREHOUSE #10 -- NIGHT Three guards near the entrance are passing a joint between them, when suddenly, The BMW flies into Warehouse and plows into two of the guards. The third dives out of the way, dazed but unhurt. The car makes a quick left turn and screams to an abrupt halt, about fifty feet from, and parallel to, the main Jamaican party. The CARD PLAYERS jump up, but it's too late. The Chinese men pop out the opposite side of the car, turn, and, firing over it, cut the Jamaicans to pieces. Bullets tear through everything and everybody in sight. There is a lull in the gunfire and Jing finally finds the safety switch on his weapon. He closes his eyes and flinches while he fires off a useless burst- way too late. Chin shakes his head. CHIN (ENGLISH) Come on, John-Boy. The men jump off on the edge of the car and move towards the Jamaicans. Unbeknownst to the Chinese, the lone guard, with a quick glance over his shoulder, darts out the warehouse. Jing can't help but be shocked, maybe even a little excited. This is the first time he's fired a gun. His excitement melts into a queasy sickness as he moves forward and the grisly scene becomes clearer. As the Chinese move closer to the slain Jamaicans, Chin spots one of them, dragging what's left of his legs behind him, crawling towards a cell phone. CHIN (CHINESE) (with authority) Mister Yau. David strides up to the man and swiftly disposes of him, with a quick double-tap; two shots to the back of the head. CHIN Thank you. Now, where's Mister. Tununga? JING (ENGLISH) How could anyone survive? TOBY Oh, he's still alive. Mister Tununga has a certain disposition about bullets. As they search through the bodies, Chin HEARS something move. He walks over to a pile of wood and corpses and kicks it over. Underneath, cowering with fear is Tununga. CHIN Tsk,tsk. Mister Tununga. A man of your stature should not be on the floor like a dog. Chin kicks him in the side. Tununga wrenches in pain. CHIN (to his men) Help Mister Tununga to a seat. David and Law help the man up and into a bullet-ridden chair. Tununga has a few cuts on his face, but nothing serious. He's almost in tears he's so scared. TUNUNGA Please don't hurt me, I'll give you whatever you want. CHIN We want information, Mister Tununga. Toby slaps Tununga across the face. Chin yells at him. CHIN (CHINESE) Toby! Behave. Toby backs away, like a chastised child. CHIN (ENGLISH) I'm sorry Mister Tununga. Now, on the behalf of Boss Long, please tell us what the King has planned for tomorrow night. Tununga hesitates. Chin removes a knife and cuts along the Jamaican's left cheek. Tununga screams. CHIN (CHINESE) (to Toby) You see, it is polite to ask first. Then if they don't want to talk, you may use force. Toby nods. Chin turns to face the young Jing. CHIN Are you paying attention, Jing? Jing responds with confidence. JING Yes sir. Chin resumes questioning Tununga. CHIN (ENGLISH) Boss Long seems to think the King is up to no good. Boss Long seems to think this new truce between our gangs is a trick. Is this true? Tununga just cries out in pain and whimpers. He's too afraid to answer. Chin is loosing his patience. CHIN I'm going to ask you once more: What does the King have planned? Tununga just wails. Chin's direction changes. He sighs. CHIN Mister Tununga, obviously this is not working out. We will, unfortunately, have continue this conversation elsewhere. (to Law)(CHINESE) Toss the fat man in the trunk. The Chinese men grab Tununga and lift him up from the chair. INT. CAR TRUNK It's black as night, we can't see a thing. The only sound we HEAR is heavy, labored breathing. The lid flings open and standing above is the four Chinese men. INT. ENTRANCE, PACKING HOUSE -- NIGHT They reach in, and with much effort, remove Tununga. He hits the ground with a loud THUD. All around them are large pieces of machinery, each one pristine stainless steel. The walls are large and pure white alabaster. CHIN (CHINESE) Let's get on with it. It's already getting late. Chin walks around a corner, Jing follows. David and Toby lift up Tununga, while Law brings up the rear. INT. PACKING HOUSE -- NIGHT David and Toby help Tununga navigate maze of metal scaffoldings. The pathway opens up to a large room full of huge stainless steel containers. They toss Tununga on the floor. Someone kicks him in the head and knocks him out. INT. SEPARATING ROOM -- NIGHT Tununga awakes to find himself bound with ropes and chains, suspended over a large spinning meat grinder. He screams like a girl. CHIN (ENGLISH) Mister Tununga, please, have some dignity. DAVID You think that will hold him? LAW They use those chains to hang sides of beef. I don't know about the ropes though. CHIN Mr. Tununga, please tell me about the double cross Mukimbo has planned. Tununga is too concerned with his current situation to pay attention. There're not getting anything out of him. Chin shakes his head, disappointed. Law tosses him the shotgun. In a flash, Chin takes aim and fires at Tununga. The blast removes a lower portion of his right leg, which falls into the whirling grinder. Blood sprays out of the mangled stump. Tununga screams. CHIN Mister Tununga, what is the problem? I ask you a very simple question. Tununga is hysterical, shaking and twisting in the air. LAW He's not talking. Maybe he doesn't know anything. CHIN Maybe. LAW Sometimes the King is not very vocal about his plans. CHIN True. Well, let's get this over with then. (to Jing) Jing come here. Jing has been standing in the corner. He's pale as a sheet. The night has been a little too much for him. He slowly walks towards Chin. CHIN I want you to see this. Chin aims the shotgun and fires, severing the rope holding Tununga, who falls into the whirling meat grinder. Blood sprays out and coats the room. Chin laughs and playfully slaps Jing on the back. Jing responds by vomiting. INT. KING MUKIMBO'S BEDROOM -- NIGHT The MAN who escaped the bloodbath earlier on the dock is standing before the King in his private quarters. The King, steaming, leaps up to his feet, knocking the woman in his lap to the floor. MUKIMBO What de fuck? Yah muderfucker, don be comin' round 'ere wit that bullshit. He removes a large handgun and shoots the MAN. KENTE attempts to calm the King, while henchmen drag the body off. KENTE It'll be ok. Tununga was becoming a liability anyway. Mukimbo, cooling down some, nods in agreement. KENTE You don't think he talked? MUKIMBO Yeah, he sang for de chinks. But he don't know nothin'. KENTE None of us do. MUKIMBO Ok, ok. It's time. Grab ya ganja and we talk, ok? INT. JING'S APARTMENT -- EARLY MORNING A key fumbles in the lock. The door opens and a beleaguered, tired, and slightly green Jing walks in. He's wearing sweats and T-shirt, having tossed his bloody suit earlier. He drops his keys on the floor and staggers down the hall to his bedroom. INT. JING'S BEDROOM -- EARLY MORNING Asleep, in the bed, is Susan. Jing quietly removes his T-shirt and slips in the bed next to her. He spoons her, his arm tight around her waist. Jing starts to speak, then thinks otherwise. He settles down and next to her, and stares up at the ceiling. INT. LONG'S OFFICE -- MORNING Inside the well furnished high rise office, Long and his associates are discussing the events of last night. We only recognize CHIN LEE and LAW MON. Long is at his desk while the other men are seated on the various couches and chairs around the office. LONG (CHINESE) Mmmm...Mister Tununga told you nothing? CHIN He didn't know of any double-cross or trick. LAW He didn't feel much like talking, though. CHIN I'm sure if the late Mister Tununga knew anything he would have told us. He is not the type to withstand our, methods of questioning. Long sits back in his chair and rubs his chin. LONG Mister Chu, opinions? A balding man speaks up. CHU I don't trust the Jamaicans. Other men in the room nod. LONG Mister Kim-Sung? Another man stands. SUNG The amount of narcotics, well it would surely help our finances. LONG Mister Soon? SOON We all know that the Fourteen-K has been struggling for years. If it wasn't the police, it was the our rivals. The men in the room all nod. SOON Gentleman, I think we have a great opportunity here. This new alliance with the Jamaican Shower Posse is the first step towards a peaceful beginning. Peace with our rivals means less tension on the streets and more flexibility for the Fourteen-K to operate. LONG Please, gentlemen, speak freely. SIGNH We may have peace with the Jamaicans, but we still fight with the Sings. If peace is not total, why should we embrace it at all? PEI A closed mind is like a closed book; just a block of wood. WANG Yes, but an ant may well destroy a whole dam. This alliance could mean the Fourteen-K's downfall. CHU The Jamaicans are not to be trusted. I think this so called alliance is nothing more then a ruse. The King would not ask for our help. He has plenty of men. KWAN Why would the King mean to trick us? CHU The same reason we have been fighting over for the past six years-he wants our territories and our business. PEI Yes. I say we go ahead with the deal, see what happens. It's worth a shot. This might be a sincere proposal and lasting alliance. SIGNH The Jamaicans want us to help them steal ten-million in heroin. I think they just want all us together in same spot, so they can wipe out our gang forever. CHIN Then why don't they just come in here now? Why haven't they come by here before? They must know where we congregate. SIGNH I don't know. Perhaps they think it would not be honorable. CHIN What the fuck do the Jamaicans know about honor? Long clears his throat and the room quiets. He leans back in his chair and thinks. After a long PAUSE, the old man speaks: LONG We will assist the Jamaicans, as arranged earlier, with one exception. Instead of bringing half of the merchandise back here, you will bring the entire shipment. The men all nod in agreement of the decision. CHIN We must be prepared for any backlash, on the King's part. LONG And we will be, my son. LONG Mister Pei will make arrangements. LONG Chin, what can you tell me of my nephew? CHIN He preformed well. If I may say so, he does need a little toughening up. LONG Yes, his sheltered life has made him soft. Take him with you today, ok? CHIN Yes, Boss. EXT. CAFé -- MORNING Jing and Susan are having breakfast at a small Café. They are taking advantage of the beautiful weather by eating outside. Susan looks up from her crossword and sees Jing is not eating. He just stares blindly at the ground. He looks troubled. SUSAN (ENGLISH) Something the matter? You've hardly touched your breakfast. Jing snaps out his daze. JING Huh? Oh, I'm just not hungry. SUSAN You sure? Well, you need to eat something. Have a piece of toast. JING No, no thanks sweetie. I, I'll get something later. Susan resumes her crossword. SUSAN Ok, I just worry about you sometimes. JING Yeah, I'll be fine. Hey, I gotta get to work. I'll see you later. That catches her off guard; before she can set her paper down and stand, he has already kissed her cheek and disappeared in the crowded street. INT. DINER -- MORNING The AMERICAN sits at a booth, along with two frigid Russian men. They stare at the American while he shovels pancakes and eggs into his mouth. The American finishes and leans back in his seat. He takes a long sip of his coffee. AMERICAN Ok. Let's get on with it. The men stand and begin to walk off. The American clears his throat, rather loudly. He motions with his eyebrows to the check on the table. After some silent deliberation, a Russian reluctantly tosses a fifty on the table. The American nods and they EXIT. INT. HUNG IMPORT CO. OFFICE -- MORNING Inside the large downtown office building, Jing is busy filing paper work. MR. HEUY, the aging legal advisor to Long, ENTERS. HEUY Ah, Jing there you are. Did you get a chance to proof the Nim report? JING Um, no, not yet. I'll get right on it though. Jing appears troubled. HEUY Oh, well, no rush, son. Are you ok? Jing looks up at the man and forces a smile. JING Yes sir. I'm fine. Heuy nods and walks towards the door. Jing calls out to him from over his shoulder. JING I put the Spindle and Johnson accounts on your desk. Remember, you asked me to do that first thing. Heuy thinks for a second, then nods. He EXITS. As he leaves, Chin Lee ENTERS. CHIN (CHINESE) Ah, Jing, good morning. Jing is startled and leaps to his feet. CHIN (ENGLISH) A little jumpy? JING (embarrassed) Ah, no, it's just that I.. CHIN It's ok. Your uncle asked me to take you around today. Get your things. Jing is confused, but follows orders. EXT. MALL, LITTLE SAIGON -- DAY Jing stands out front of the large mall with Chin and Toby Wong. JING What is this place? TOBY A mall. CHIN Just making the rounds. Come on. INT. GROUND FLOOR, MALL -- DAY Jing looks around with a sense of amazement. JING This place is huge. TOBY First time? JING Yeah, I mean no. TOBY First time here, been to malls elsewhere, huh? JING Yeah. CHIN (CHINESE) Put your game faces on. The men move with purpose through the crowd. They ride an escalator to the top floor. INT. TOP FLOOR, MALL -- DAY The upper level is filled with jewelry shops and gold merchants. The men enter one of the stores. INT. WANG CHUNG GOLD -- DAY Two older customers admiring a display case quickly abandon their positions when they see the men enter. Toby quietly ushers the few remaining customers out. A lone old man, ERIC LAM, sits behind the counter. CHIN (ENGLISH) Ah, Mister Lam. Good morning. LAM What do you want? CHIN We want to talk. If you wish to know the mind of a man, listen to his words. Can we go in the back? LAM I can't leave the store. CHIN Mister Toby Wong will watch things. Jing, come along. Chin motions with his hand and Lam reluctantly leads the men to a stockroom in the back. INT. STOCKROOM -- DAY CHIN Please, have a seat Mister Lam. LAM You know you're not supposed to be here. CHIN Jing, this is Mister Lam. Mister Lam works for the Hop Sings. JING They're Tongs, right? CUT TO: EXT. SHIPPING YARD -- NIGHT Men wearing red scarves, TONGS, are unloading a large boat. Two men drop a wooden crate, it breaks and white powder spills out. A bystander, wearing the same red scarf, pulls out a long sword. He screams some Cantonese, them promptly shreds the two workers on the spot. BACK TO: INT. STOCKROOM -- DAY CHIN Yes, enemy to the Triads. Their people built this lovely Chinatown. Well, he doesn't work for the Hop Sings directly, do you Mister Lam? Lam is not happy, and you can see it all over his face. CUT TO: INT. CHINATOWN MARKETPLACE -- DAY People are shopping, vendors are shouting, and shop boys are changing prices on chalkboards. Two teenagers are discussing fruit. One of them turns to the other and the boys spin around. CHIN (V.O.) Mister Lam here buys stolen gold from the Green Dragon street gang, who are essentially messenger boys for the Hop Sings. Behind the two boys stand four teenagers adorned with green scarves and brandishing submachine guns. They are GREEN DRAGONS. They open fire on the two teenagers and the entire marketplace. BACK TO: INT. STOCKROOM -- DAY CHIN Got it so far kid? JING Yeah. CHIN Good, cause these people are our enemies. Now, the Green Dragons recently came upon a rather large amount of gold. CUT TO: INT. MANSION -- NIGHT A GREEN DRAGON is holding a gun to the head of a hysterical woman. Her husband lies next to her, his body riddled with bullet holes. Another Green Dragon runs into the room. He is holding two large solid gold ornamental pieces. GREEN DRAGON#1 (CHINESE) We hit the jack-pot. Let's clean 'em out. The other Green Dragon nods, then shoots the woman. BACK TO: INT. STOCKROOM -- DAY CHIN Besides slinging dope to immigrants, mostly Chinese, the other Dragon passion is to steal gold. Green Dragons love gold and Chinese have a lot of gold. How do these working class people acquire this gold? These immigrants, they don't trust our banks, so they keep most of their money at home. And what's the most sound investment? JING Gold? CHIN Yes. Because it seldom decreases in value. Jing nods, trying to absorb it all. CHIN Almost every single home invasion and robbery committed by the Green Dragons is against recent Chinese immigrants. What makes the other night different, are the victims involved. JING What, they weren't Chinese? CHIN Nope, they were Mister and Misses Davidson. Business associates and beloved friends of your Uncle Long. Lam's demeanor changes rapidly. CHIN Which brings me to the point of this visit. (to Lam) Mister Lam, our dear friend, Boss Long, would like to know if you know anything about this terrible robbery. LAM I know nothing. You should not be here. Leave me alone, I'm an old man. CHIN Ah, but you do buy gold from the Dragons, do you not? LAM Not anymore. CHIN You see, Jing, here's where being tough, comes into play. Remember, I was telling about being tough, in the car? Tough. And why should we be tough? Because, he's lying. Lam protests his innocence. LAM No I'm not! This is crazy. I don't have to put up with this. He stands but Chin pushes him back down his seat. Chin walks over to the wall by the door and pulls down a calendar. Underneath is a gang symbol, written in black marker. CHIN See this Jing? It's a gang sign, Stating this shop is Green Dragon property. They're the only ones who can sell, acquired, gold here. There was another one out front. Did you see it? JING Yes, the items in the display case were arranged in that pattern. CHIN Correct. You need to learn to recognize these symbols. He walks back over to Lam. CHIN Mister Lam, I know the Green Dragons were here yesterday. I know they sold you some artifacts. I want them, please. LAM I don't have anything. Search the shop if you like. CHIN Ok, I think I'll do that. Jing, search it. Jing is confused, but he timidly opens up a nearby box and carefully examines it's contents. CHIN No, no. Like this. Chin sweeps his hand across a shelf, knocking everything to the floor. He picks up a box from an upper shelf and smashes it open it on the littered floor. CHIN Ok? Jing nods, and starts smashing anything within reach. He's slow at first, then begins break items with more feeling. It's almost like he enjoys it. CHIN Mister Lam, I want the names of the robbers. I know it was the Green Dragons, but I want to know which ones were there. LAM Huh? I don't know. Hey, stop that. Oh no, not that one! Ok, ok, I'll tell you. Please stop it! CHIN Jing, that's enough. You were saying? LAM It was Chang Shen and his friends. JING Who? CHIN They're Dragon punks, pretty dangerous. They enforce Tong law and push dope at a few highschools. Probably where they found out the Davidsons, they have a teenage daughter. JING Was she hurt? CHIN She was sleeping over at a friends house. Thank you, Mister Lam for your information. Lam nods, unsure of what to do next. He stands, but Chin pushes him back down. CHIN Not so fast, Mister Lam. We have a message from Boss Long. Chin swings the table in front of Lam. He grabs Lam behind the neck and shoves his had down HARD against the table. He pulls a machete and crashes it into the back of the old man's neck. Lam's body shakes uncontrollably. CHIN (to Jing) Come here. Give me a hand. Jing obeys and holds Lam's head steady. Chin has to put his foot on Lam's back to get enough leverage to remove the blade. He pulls the machete free and slams it down again, spraying up blood on Jing and himself. Jing leaps back. CHIN Get back here. Hold his head. Jing pauses then returns. Chin works the blade out and slams it down again into the back of Lam's neck. Success; the blade finally goes all the way through and head separates. Blood pours out of the gaping wound. The body falls. JING Shit! I've never seen that before. CHIN Yeah, hand me that towel over there. I saw it last night, the King took the head off one of his own men. JING That's harsh. CHIN I think so too, but was to prove a point. We gotta be on the street, clean up. Use a couple of those shirts over there. Whatever you use, toss it in this sack here, take it with us, ok? JING Ok. CHIN Get most of it. It wasn't this messy when the King did it. INT. RESTAURANT -- DAY The place is empty, save for a lone waiter leaning up against a podium and the six Green Dragons sitting around a table near the front window. They are playing Pai Gow, drinking and laughing. Without warning, the headless corpse of LAM crashes through the window onto the table. Bursts of gunfire follow the body through the window and the Dragons are cut down. EXT. STREET, CHINATOWN -- DAY Law's BMW turns a corner, slows, and passes a silver Mercedes, parked between the many street vendors. Kente exits the Benz and is greeted by an older Chinese man, LEHUNG. They walk towards one of the buildings. KENTE What was that? Sounded like Gunfire, Mister Lehung. LEHUNG What? Oh no Mister Kente. Probably just children and fire works. KENTE I hope it doesn't disrupt business. They reach the door and Lehung taps twice with his cane. The door opens to Reveal a Green Dragon, armed with a Uzi. He steps aside when he sees the old man. LEHUNG Oh no, no. Everything is fine. Please come this way Mister Kente. They enter and the door shuts. INT. LEHUNG'S BROTHEL -- DAY There is garbage on the floor and the paint is peeling off the walls. This place reeks of disease. Kente is led through a maze of corridors until he reaches Lehung's office. The two men enter and three Dragons follow. INT. LEHUNG'S OFFICE -- DAY The office walls are a drab green color and covered with photos of naked girls, most in their teens. At the far end sits a desk, flanked by a table, two chairs and three TV monitors. The views are rotating, showing various images of the onsite rooms and building exterior. In front of the desk are three leather chairs, cracked and worn with age. This place is filthy. A thick layer of dirt and grime covers everything in sight. Kente removes a handkerchief from his picket and wipes down the chair seat before sitting down. Lehung takes his seat behind the desk and the three Dragons hang back, by the door. LEHUNG So you want some company? A Dragon drops a large binder in Kente's lap. KENTE Ah, yes Mister Lehung. The King wants alotta women for tonight. He flips open the book. It's full of pictures of teenage girls, mostly polaroids. Each photo has a little Mandarin caption underneath. Some have clothes on, others are completely naked. These pictures are sad, to say the least. All the teenagers are Asian and covered with bruises. Most are missing their teeth and they all have frail, malnourished little bodies. Kente has seen enough. He promptly slams the binder shut. KENTE Look, just send the best ones you got. We'll need about twenty-five. Twenty-five, ok? EXT. GREENBROOK APARTMENTS -- DAY A tricked out Civic pulls into an underground parking space at a posh west-side housing complex. INT. CIVIC, PARKED -- DAY David Yau does a quick line of coke on his dash board. He checks his face in the review mirror and exits his car. INT. UNDERGROUND PARKING -- DAY David lights a cigarette and makes his way towards the elevator. He punches the button and while he's waiting, he casually scans up and down the parking garage. INT. ELEVATOR -- DAY Once inside, he finds the trip is taking too long and does a quick rail off the side of his hand. He has just enough time to straighten himself in the reflective walls of the silver elevator, before it opens. INT. HALLWAY -- DAY David walks down the hallway, and stops at a door numbered D-thirty-seven. He shoots a quick look up and down the hallway, then collects himself, and slides the key into the lock. INT. DAVID'S APARTMENT -- DAY David enters the lavishly furnished apartment, drops his keys into a bowl by the door and locks all six deadbolts. He flips on the lights and tosses his jacket on the expensive couch. He meanders through the place and begins to notice odd things, like the empty wine bottles and half eaten take-out on the coffee table, two sets of chopsticks in the rice, candles burnt down to nothing, a mirror covered yellow powder. David dips a wet finger into the powder and brings it to his lips. DAVID (smiles) Meth. He hears moaning (O.S.), and his mood suddenly changes. He moves down the hallway towards the bedroom. The ground is littered with clothes, his girlfriend's clothes. He removes his .40 caliber pistol from his waistband and chambers a round. The moaning gets louder and is beginning to resemble a high pitched, laughing scream. INT. DAVID'S BEDROOM -- DAY David flings the door open and flips on the light switch. He immediately lowers his weapon. There on the bed is his girlfriend, LIEN, naked with her legs draped over the end of the bed. In-between her legs, bent down, is a young naked KOREAN girl. Lien lets out a high pitch yelp and begins to shudder. DAVID Should've called me. Lien looks up, barely able to open her eyes. She fights to speak. LIEN Whatcha waiting for? Her head flings back down and her eyes roll back in her head. David strips and walks up behind the Korean girl. He lifts her hips up and enters her from behind. The three go at for a while then suddenly Lien tenses up. Her legs squeeze tight around the girl's head. LIEN (CHINESE) Oh god, I'm coming!, Oh, Ah, Oh shit, you little slut! Fuck, motherfucker! YES BITCH! Her hips bounce up and down and she balls up the bed sheets in her hands. David grunts and tenses up. After a few seconds he pulls out and crawls over to the nightstand and begins cutting lines of dope. Lien bites down hard on her lip and suddenly jerks her hips to the left. Slowly, she settles down. She unclenches her legs and the Korean girls falls, dead. David raises his head up and sees the girl on the ground. He walks over to her. Lien is lying on the bed, still trying to catch her breath. The Korean girl is definitely dead. She has blood coming out her nose and there is huge bruise forming on the side of her neck, which is swollen to three times normal size. David checks her wrist for a pulse. Nothing. DAVID (ENGLISH) Hey hon, I think we got a problem. Lien addresses him lying down. LIEN What, little slut giving you shit? I didn't know she'd get worn out so soon. Figure she'd go all night. Sorry about that. DAVID Nah, don't think it's that. LIEN Those Lehung motherfuckers. You know how much she cost? Fresh meat, yeah right. I'm fucken taken' her back. Fuck this. She sits up and sees David kneeling over the girl on the floor. LIEN What the fuck? DAVID You broke her neck. LIEN Bullshit. Lien takes her time getting back to him. She gingerly rolls off the bed, walks over to the nightstand and does a line of speed, lights a cigarette, then calmly strolls back over to the foot of the bed. LIEN Get up bitch, time to go back to the slave ship. She kicks the girl a couple of times. DAVID Hey, don't do that. LIEN Don't yell at me. DAVID I wasn't yelling. LIEN Well, you certainly raised you voice. DAVID What about her? LIEN Give her a cold shower and a stiff drink, she'll be fine. Too much speed. DAVID I think she's dead. Look at this. (he points to the girls neck) Her neck is broken. LIEN Huh. I think she's dead. DAVID (CHINESE) Yeah, no shit, that's what I'm saying. LIEN (ENGLISH) Watch your that tone, mister. DAVID (CHINESE) You killed her. LIEN (ENGLISH) Oh, so now I killed her? I didn't fucking kill her. DAVID Your broke her fucken neck. LIEN So? Call one of your friends and take care of it. DAVID Boss Long is gonna kill me. Fuck! Ok fine, but this is the last time. Boss Long is gonna kill me. She moves towards the door. LIEN Oh please! Don't give me that sad pathetic shit. You pulled this shit the last time four times a Korean slut died on us. I don't know, I think we have bad luck or something. Nah, it's Lehung and his cheap whores. They aren't well kept, ya know. DAVID God damn, just be quiet. LIEN Fuck you, don't talk to me like hat. DAVID Shut up, shut up, shut up. LIEN Get on the phone and call the clean-up crew. God, it's a fucking wonder why I even put with you, David. You can be so childish sometimes. David rushes over to his clothes and grabs his pistol. DAVID Shut the fuck up! He points the weapon at Lien. LIEN What the fuck are you doing? Put that away. Oh, what, you're gonna shoot me? Huh? How many times we played this? Always just a mouth, never any action. You never had any balls, that's it. That's why you never got anywhere. She shakes her head and turns away. LIEN Fucken pussy. David snaps and squeezes off five rounds, each hitting Lien square in the back. He drops to his knees and begins to cry. INT. BMW, MOVING -- DAY Chin, Jing, and Law and driving through downtown when Chin gets a call in his cell. CHIN (CHINESE) Yeah? INT. DAVID'S APARTMENT -- DAY David is in a robe sitting on the couch. He's on the phone, gulping off a bottle of scotch in-between sentences. DAVID (ENGLISH) Hey, Chin. CHIN (filtered) Yes, Mister Yau. DAVID I need you to send some guys over here right now. CHIN (filtered) What seems to be the problem? DAVID I had an accident. INT. BMW, MOVING -- DAY CHIN I'll be right there. He hangs up the phone. CHIN Law, change of plans, head over to Yau's place. Law obeys, and the car spins around and heads the other direction. INT. DAVID'S APARTMENT -- DAY Blood drips from the dead Korean girl's nose. Chin is kneeling over her. He stands up and looks across the room at Lien's body. He turns to David and shakes his head. CHIN (to Jing and Law) Wrap 'em up. Law and Jing snatch the sheets off the bed and wrap up the bodies. David starts to lose it again. He had kept his cool until now. DAVID I'm so sorry. I just, she wouldn't shut up. She kept on and on. LAW Another Korean. Damn, how old you think she is. Before Jing can answer, Chin cuts in. CHIN (to Law) Wrap her up. (to David) Get what you need. Money, some clothes, whatever, ok? Davis stares at his girlfriend's body as she is rolled into the fine linen. CHIN Oi! David finally acknowledges him and makes eye contact. CHIN (CHINESE) Fucking, get your shit and come on. INT./EXT. DAVID'S APARTMENT -- DAY Jing kicks open the front door and drags a covered body out into the hallway and stacks it on the other one. Chin and David follow him out. Law backs out of the apartment,spilling gasoline on the floor as he goes. After Law has cleared the doorway, Chin looks up and down the empty hallway, then tosses a lit zippo inside. Law shuts the door. INT. BACK ALLEY -- DAY The trunk lid flies open. Chin and an older man, HERMAN MING, are standing over the trunk. They are parked between dumpsters in an alley. CHIN One has about five or six slugs in her, the other is pristine. MING Hmm, how old did you say? He lifts up a sheet corner. CHIN One with the holes is twenty-six, the other one is sixteen, maybe seventeen. MING This ain't one of Lehung's girls, is it? CHIN Of course not. MING Good, cause I don't buy trash. I'm running a business, my customers expect a certain level of quality. CHIN They're on the level. MING Better fucking be, for what I'm paying. How are the tits? CHIN Nice, they're smaller on the young one. MING I'll give you five a piece. CHIN Yesterday, it was twelve for two. MING Yeah, that was yesterday. Look, you want to get rid of them, whatcha gonna do? Dump 'em off a fucking bridge? I'm paying one for the pair. Chin shakes his head in disbelief. CHIN Ok, ok old man. You win. But only because I don't have the time to argue. Ming, smiling, pulls out a gigantic wad and peels off ten one-hundred dollar bills and forks them over to Chin. Ming's men carry the bodies inside a backdoor between the many dumpsters. He moves towards the door. MING And this isn't your turf. He points to a graffiti symbol on the wall, next to the door. It is a Green Dragon territory sign. MING Dragons or Sings catch you punks around, well we all know where they'll send you- straight to the Hell of Being Skinned Alive. Fucking punks. He enters and the door slams shut. A sign on the door is in Mandarin. It is translated to: BLUE KITE - EMPLOYEES ONLY EXT. BACK ALLEY -- AFTERNOON The black BMW swings out of the alley and makes a right onto the street. As they pass the first building on the right, PULL UP TO REVEAL an aging back-lit sign that reads: BLUE KITE CHINESE RESTAURANT Across the street is a crumbling hotel. INT. HOTEL ROOM -- AFTERNOON A long steel case flips open. The American and his two Russian companions are in a rat infested downtown hotel room in the middle of Chinatown. The American's eyes light up as he reaches into the briefcase, lifts a rifle barrel out and inspects it. AMERICAN Clean, huh? A Russian nods. The American begins assembling the rifle. He locks the barrel in place, the attaches the handguard, silencer, the buttstock, and finally the hi-power scope. AMERICAN (unimpressed) Nice. He's really ecstatic. He loves to shoot, especially if it's fine weaponry, but he's not going to let it show to the Russians. He reaches down and picks up the magazine, slaps it in and cocks the rifle. AMERICAN Let's see if it's sighted in. He walks over to the window and assumes a firing position. THROUGH THE SCOPE, we SEE the crowded Chinatown street below; various people moving about, street vendors, the brightly colored signs, the neatly kept storefronts. The view moves up to the building tops and the cross-hairs settle on a white sign that reads: KIM LAUNDRY. A corner of the sign breaks, then another piece flies off. AMERICAN (V.O.) A little off, huh? The American pulls his head back from the scope. He makes a few adjustments and resumes the firing position. THROUGH THE SCOPE, the cross-hairs move down to a SF PD cruiser, parked amongst the bikes outside a shop. EXT. STREET -- AFTERNOON The store door busts open and two youths with green scarves are tossed out in the street. AMERICAN (V.O.) Ah, here we go. Two police officers follow them out, along with an angry shop owner. A cop picks up one of the Green Dragons and slams him against the cruiser. He begins searching the boy, yelling into his ear from behind. The other cop, pointing his gun at the Dragon on the ground, turns to look at his partner. The young Dragon sees his opportunity and pulls a knife from his shirt sleeve. Suddenly the Dragon leaps up and slashes the cop across his eyes. He falls screaming. The first cop swings around, face to face with the Dragon holding the knife. The first Dragon breaks free and grabs the cop's sidearm. Now he's surrounded. AMERICAN (V.O.) Quick little bastards. The hand of the Dragon holding the gun explodes. He quickly falls, holding his gushing stump and screaming. INT. HOTEL ROOM -- AFTERNOON AMERICAN Not so tough. A Russian leans in. RUSSIAN (RUSSIAN) They're just kids. The American nods. THROUGH THE SCOPE we SEE the first Cop hit the dirt. He crawls towards his car door. Before he can reach the door, his knee explodes. When he spins around to grab it, his head comes apart. The Dragon with knife panics and takes off down the street. The cross-hairs train on his back and he falls dead before he reaches the end of the block. The wounded cop and Dragon on the pavement are quickly picked off in a few shots. The American sits back and begins taking the rifle apart. He closes the case and lights a cigarette. AMERICAN Good, but I've seen better. Wish I could have had it sooner. RUSSIAN (RUSSIAN) But you like it? AMERICAN Yeah, suppose it'll work. And I get the rest of my payment, afterwards, huh? Both Russian men exchange glances. RUSSIAN (RUSSIAN) The money? Yes, yes. AMERICAN You gonna police my brass? He motions towards the empty shell casings on the ground. A Russian bends down and pockets the spent cartridges. AMERICAN Well, I'm hungry, time for lunch? Laughter, (O.S.), from following scene. INT. BOARD ROOM, LONG'S BUILDING -- LATE AFTERNOON Long and his associates are sitting in the board room eating a late lunch/early dinner and telling jokes. His phone rings. LONG Just a sec. (phone) (CHINESE) Yes. Uh-huh. Ok. He hangs up, wipes his mouth and stands. The table quickly quiets down. LONG It seems young Mister Yau has disgraced us again. There is a collective sigh throughout the boardroom. INT. LONG'S OFFICE -- LATE AFTERNOON THE TV shows a large fire. A reporter comes into Frame. REPORTER (TV) (ENGLISH) Authorities suspect arson as the cause of the three-alarm blaze that engulfed this quiet west side community. Fire inspectors on the scene said- The TV clicks off. Long sets his remote down. All around his office are his lower bosses. Chin, Jing, Law, and David are there as well. David is noticeably distraught. Long is cool and calm, never raising his voice. LONG Have you anything to say? David stands and walks up to Long's desk. He kneels down on a plastic sheet in front of the desk. Someone places a wooden block and short sword in front of him. David sets his hand, palm spread, on the board. He looks up and around the room, then raises the blade. The entire room leans in. David drops the sword fast but slows at the end, resting the blade on the knuckle of his pinky finger. He looks up and around the room, and then raises the blade high above his head again. This time the blade falls and makes contact, slicing right through the bone to the wooden board below. Men leap backwards and grimace at the sight. David rolls on his side, clutching is wounded hand, screaming in agony. Men quickly rush up and pull David aside and quiet him down. Another man wraps up the severed finger in a napkin and sets it on Long's desk. Long inspects the finger, and then nods. INT. JING'S APARTMENT -- EVENING Jing and his girlfriend, Susan, are eating dinner at the dining room table. SUSAN So, how was your day? JING Interesting. SUSAN I called the office, twice. Mister Heuy said you were out, with your Uncle's men. JING Yeah, they took me around. SUSAN I'm worried about you. JING Look, I'm sorry about this morning. I had a rough night. My mind and my spirit were going north and south. SUSAN Yeah, you seemed confused, and worried. JING That's what I just said. But I'm not anymore. I love you. She smiles. SUSAN I love you too. I was thinking maybe we could go over to Mau and Lisa's after dinner. She just got a few new dresses that I'm dying to see, and Mau keep's asking when your coming by. He's got this new stereo system he wants you to see. JING I have to work tonight. SUSAN But we haven't been out together in weeks. Mau and Lisa are our friends, you like them. JING It's not them. And I know we haven't been out together in a while. I know. But I also know that when Uncle Long says I'm working, well, I have to work. Susan sighs and pokes at her food. She can't argue with that. INT. SOUTHSIDE WAREHOUSE -- EVENING The American and several Russians are sitting in the aging warehouse. The American is seated in front of Strenokov's desk. This time we see the Russian mafia boss's face, and it's not pretty; a long, jagged scar runs down the right side of his face and his nose is missing, hacked off in an earlier dispute. STRENOKOV Here is the money. A henchman plops a leather brief case in the American's lap. AMERICAN All here? STRENOKOV Yup, two-point-five million. You can count it if you'd like. The American flips the lid up and scans over the money with his eyes. AMERICAN I trust you, we're all friends here, right? He closes the lid and sets it aside. STRENOKOV (laughing) Ah, I always liked you. Trusting. Vodka all around! INT. MUKIMBO'S OFFICE -- EVENING The King does a few lines of coke, and then sits back in his large chair. Through the haze, we see that the room is filled with every single one of Mukimbo's captains and lieutenants, all twenty-six of them. MUKIMBO Tonight, we gonna make a lot of money. Kente, here will explain. KENTE Thank you. Ok, The Russian ship is scheduled to dock at one A.M. Lil' Boy and six others will meet up with the chinks at midnight. From there, both groups will make their way to the docks. MUKIMBO We'll be ready for the slopes. KENTE Yes we will. Anyway, the Russians have a buyer, an American, here in town. He is to make the deal. After he is gone, we'll hit the dock, with the chinks. Once the product is secure and the threat eliminated, we will take care of the chinks. MUKIMBO We will have men waiting in a van, nearby, ah how many will it take Kente? KENTE Maybe, five or six. MUKIMBO Good, den send ten, nah, fifteen. And you go wit tim. Senda message to dat Boss-mon. If ya can't ketch Quaaco, ketch him shirt. Ya can't be fucken wit da King. The room goes wild. MUKIMBO Ok, ok, settle down. KENTE Those of you who will meet up with the chinks will not move until Lil' Boy gives the order. Once the order is given, you men will give the hit squad ample room to do their job. You know how they get. After the chinks are out of the equation, both groups will meet up and bring the product back here. Is that understood? The men in the room cheer loudly. INT. GOLDEN SWAN RESTAURANT-- NIGHT Long and his men are seated in a private dining area. There is coke and whores around the table and a few men in the corner failing at karaoke. Long is making a toast. LONG The night is upon us. Let us drink. Everybody does, the Long raises his glass again. LONG To our brothers and our beliefs. To lord god Buddha, to our business. The room cheers. EXT. LOADING DOCKS -- NIGHT Inside a warehouse, on the dockside, seven Jamaicans are passing a joint when they see a gray BMW round the corner and cruise towards them. LIL' BOY, a gigantic Jamaican captain in charge of the men, tosses the joint when he sees the Beamer. LIL' BOY Here dey come. The cars pull up and six Chinese men exit. LIL' BOY Glad you could make it. Both parties exchange nervous glances back and forth. INT. DOCK -- NIGHT A cigarette lighter breaks the darkness. The American lights his cigarette while he waits with his two Russian companions. AMERICAN You boys need to lighten up. We're almost out of this. I'll get my ends and be off, you'll have yours. Cheer up, fellas. The Russians keep their frigid stance. AMERICAN Ah fuck man. He tries a different approach and pulls out his pack of cigarette. AMERICAN Y'all want a smoke? I got, ah, two left. Huh? Nothing. He puts he pack away and sighs. AMERICAN Fucken boring. I'll be glad when this day is finally over. Find myself some more lively company. INT. HARBOR -- NIGHT A huge ocean liner pulls into the harbor, guided by two tugboats. When the liner is close enough, the tugs peel off and four dock workers move to grab tie lines and the boat swings up along side the dock. Five crewmen on the boat, exit to greet the dockworkers. DOCKWORKER #1 How you guys doing? Let me get you to sign this log. As the parties get closer to one another, the crewmen pull out silenced machine guns. The dockworkers get right up on the crewmen before they see the weapons. In a quick burst of fire, the dockworkers are blasted into the cold bay water. INT. DOCK -- NIGHT The American sees this and snubs out his cigarette. AMERICAN Here we go. The men move towards the crewmen and meet on the dock. A Jamaican scout hides behind some rope bundles, unseen. He dials his cell phone. AMERICAN (RUSSIAN) Good evening. Good trip? The Captain hops down his boat. CAPTAIN Fucken hairy, as always. Let's get this over with, shall we? Come on. EXT. LOADING DOCKS -- NIGHT Lil' Boy hangs up his phone. LIL' BOY (ENGLISH) Ok, dey all here. A few more minutes and we'll go, ok? INT. OVERPASS -- NIGHT A van is parked on an old overpass, overlooking the docks. Ten Chinese men are inside, inspecting their weapons; various shotguns and submachine guns. A solider, TOSHIO, pulls out his rig and starts getting ready to shoot up. SATO (CHINESE) What the fuck are you doing? Toshio dumps out some dope on a curved piece of tin, then spits on it. TOSHIO (mocking) What the fuck are you doing? He flicks his lighter and the heroin bubbles. He pulls the filter out of a cigarette and sops up the dope. As soon as he gets a good draw, SATO slaps the needle out of his hand. SATO We're supposed to be working. TOSHIO What the fuck? That was loaded. He scrambles, looking for his needle. It rolls near Sato, who promptly crushes it underneath his shoe. TOSHIO What the fuck? Both men get up and get into each other faces and start a yelling match. In the front seat, the driver is about to a line of coke off his hand, when his seat is bumped from behind. His face smacks into his hand, knocking his coke everywhere. The front seat passenger cracks up laughing when he sees his friend's face; red with rage and white with coke. The driver leaps from his seat and runs around back. He swings open the double doors and begins yelling Chinese obscenities at the men. The all stop fighting to laugh at the driver's appearance. INT. DOCK -- NIGHT A crewman sets down a crate. CREWMAN (RUSSIAN) That's the last of it. He exits. CAPTAIN That's three crates. AMERICAN Open it. The Captain nods and two crewmen pry open a crate. They remove a smaller wooden crate from within and set it on the ground. The crewmen pry open the smaller crate and the Captain reaches inside and brushes away the straw and other packing materials. He raises up with a brick sized block in his hand. The American smiles and the Captain tosses him the brick. The American pulls out a pocketknife and cuts through the many layers of plastic wrap until he hits powder. He brings the blade up to his mouth and tastes the white powder. AMERICAN (ENGLISH) It's good. He turns to his Russian companions and nods. CAPTAIN (RUSSIAN) Each crate has twelve smaller boxes inside, each box contains four bricks. AMERICAN Ok, looks good to me. A Russian hands him the briefcase, who in turn hands it off to the Captain. CAPTAIN All the money is here? AMERICAN Yup. CAPTAIN Good. Pleasure. AMERICAN (ENGLISH) I'm sure it was. Captain and his crewmen exit. AMERICAN Now we wait. Two smooth looking late model pickup trucks pull up next to the crates. AMERICAN Well, that didn't take long. Five gang bangers exit the trucks, and one walks up the American. As he gets closer, the American recognizes him. AMERICAN Hey. Oh shit, Royce. What's up man? The man does a gang handshake with the American, followed by a quick hug. ROYCE What's up my nigga? Cold den a bitch out here. AMERICAN What the fuck you doing here? ROYCE They got my boys making this little transaction here tonight, you know, workin a nigga and all that shit. How you been? AMERICAN Good, good Royce. And you? ROYCE Ah shit man, I can't complain. My ass getting paid. AMERICAN I hear that. Still seeing that one girl, lived uptown? ROYCE That bitch done shacked up some other ho she met at the club, one of them Caribbean bitches, all island and shit man. Found them together, in the fucken bathroom. CUT TO: INT. CLUB 210 BATHROOM -- NIGHT Royce enters the restroom with a hot blonde women hanging on him. They move over to a stall and fling it open. Inside are two beautiful women, one white with straight brown hair and the other black, with dreadlocks are locked in a kiss. Both girls have their skirts hiked up around their waists and the white girl has her hand in-between the other's legs. Royce stands there, shocked and stunned. BEAT. ROYCE What the fuck? BACK TO: INT. DOCK -- NIGHT AMERICAN Ooh, that fucking sucks man. ROYCE Ain't that a bitch? Found out later on that she had been fucking that island bitch for, like six months man. AMERICAN Fucking bitches man. What did you do? CUT TO: INT. CLUB 210, RESTROOM -- NIGHT Royce pulls out his Browning Hi-Power and empties the magazine into both women. ROYCE (V.O.) I blasted both them bitches. Shit, nigga what ya think I done? Shit. He pauses a second then shoots the blonde girl he was with and runs out of the restroom into the Club. Inside the CLUB, he runs across the dance floor towards the exit. He almost runs over four Chinese men standing near the exit. A couple of Jamaicans take off after him. BACK TO: INT. DOCK - NIGHT ROYCE Who's these two motherfuckers? AMERICAN Oh, the Russians? ROYCE Stiff ass motherfuckers. AMERICAN They're here on Strenokov's orders man. ROYCE Big motherfuckers. Shit, they said they had themselves a white- boy, didn't think it was you. Let's get this motherfucker over with. AMERICAN Let's. The American hands him the opened brick and Royce takes a taste. In the B.G., the ocean liner is pulling away from the dock. ROYCE My man got's the grip. (over his shoulder) Yo! Lil' A-K, bring that shit. Say nigga, yeah you, little peanut head. Bring that shit. A young banger carries over a gym bag and hands it to the American. AMERICAN All here? ROYCE Shit, motherfucker, you know it is. AMERICAN Ten million? ROYCE Yeah nigga. It's straight as a motherfucker. Had T-bizz count it twice and everything. He's the smart one. Got his college degree. You know, all that Einstein shit. AMERICAN Cool. Shit's yours, take it. ROYCE Tight man. AMERICAN Gotta jet, you know how it is. Take it easy bro. ROYCE You know I will. They do another gang handshake and the American and Russians head towards their Town Car. Royce turns to his men. ROYCE B-dog, you take Fish-Head and Neck-Wound, y'all load that shit up. The three bangers obey and load up the crates into the trucks. ROYCE Hey, don't be slammin my shit around. Just had rhino liners put in those bitches. Don't be scratching my shit, I'll scratch your ass with my Glock. Punk ass niggas. EXT. LOADING DOCKS -- NIGHT Lil' Boy hangs up his phone. LIL' BOY Dey makin' the deal now. Both Chinese and Jamaicans pull out their weapons, load and cock them. Then they hop into their respective cars, a black Lexus a and a gray BMW. EXT. DOCKS -- NIGHT The American tosses the gym bag inside the backseat of the Lincoln. AMERICAN Let's roll. The American jumps in the backseat and two Russians hop in the front, and they drive off. They make a right turn and drive down the shipping yard, on the dockside. When they reach the end, they pass a gray BMW and black Lexus, headed the opposite direction. INT. DOCK -- NIGHT The last crate is being loaded onto the flat bed truck. Suddenly, the BMW and Lexus scream around the corner, passengers with their arms out the side windows and their guns blazing. A Banger gets shop in the chest and goes down. Another gets hit in the neck and spins around, then falls. ROYCE What the fuck is this shit? Motherfuckers try to fuck with me? Under fire, Royce walks to the truck cab and pulls out a CAR-15 rifle. Bullets whiz by left and right but he doesn't flinch. The Lexus circles around behind the bangers and the Jamaicans exit, still shooting, never loosing a beat. The BMW stops behind a pillar and the Chinese spill out. ROYCE I fuck all you niggas up! Niggas try to fuck me? He turns and fires bursts from his machinegun. Two Chinese men are hit and go down. Royce walks towards the men, firing and yelling. ROYCE Y'all niggas like that shit? Huh? Break yo ass nigga. LIL' BOY (O.S.) Hey Royce! Remember us? Royce stops shooting. He doesn't turn, he knows who it is. ROYCE Dread-lock wearing ass motherfuckers. I can smell your stanky weed from here. Y'all some sneaky bitches. Before he can say another word, he's torn to pieces by a half dozen shotgun blasts. Lil' Boy walks up to the dead Royce and shoots him twice with his pistol. LIL' BOY Trash talking fool. He shoots into the corpse again and again. LIL' BOY Sorry your woman like pussy, but you shouldn't shot my sister. He empties his pistol into Royce's body. Another Jamaican taps him on the shoulder. LIL' BOY What?! Oh. Yeah. He reaches into his pocket and removes his cell, he dials a number. The Chinese men pull themselves together and see the Jamaicans run behind the two trucks. They begin muttering between themselves. The Van containing the Kente and the other fourteen Jamaicans, tears into the dock. It stops a few feet away from the Chinese and men pour out. The Chinese look back towards the hidden Jamaicans, then to the van. They make the connection and dive for cover as the hit squad opens fire. A Chinese gangster, severely wounded, fumbles with his cell phone. INT. OVERPASS -- NIGHT Sato picks up his ringing cell phone. SATO (CHINESE) Shut the fuck up, ok? (phone) Yeah? Hello? He can only hear screaming and gunshots (filtered). SATO (phone) Hello? (the van) (ENGLISH) We got a problem. Hey! Shut the fuck up. He holds the phone out so everyone can listen. As the men quiet down they can hear the sound of the shootout on the docks; gunshots, yelling, and voices, mostly Jamaicans. After a few loud "bangs", the sound goes to white noise. LING Who was that? SATO I don't know? He flips through his phone's caller i.d. SATO Xin. Shit, those fucking Jamaicans. They exit the van and stare down the overpass at the dock below. Muzzle flashes light up the area and flicker in the darkness like fireflies. TOSHIO We've gotta get the fuck down there. SATO Get a fucken hold of yourself. Boss says to stay put until the smack is in the cars and moving. Then we hit the Jamaicans. TOSHIO Then fucking call him. SATO I'm going to. Fuck! Everybody, back in the van. Sato reaches for his cell. INT. LONG'S OFFICE -- NIGHT Long slams his phone down. For the first time, he lets his emotions show. He is pissed off. CHIN What is it boss? LONG Jamaicans. CHU I knew they weren't to be trusted. CHIN What do we do? LONG Tell our men in the van to stay put. I'm coming down. Chinese men stand and begin inspecting their sidearms. Jing stands. LONG No you stay here. David too. JING Yes, Uncle. CHIN Let's roll, gentlemen. Long and the men file out the room. INT. DOCK -- NIGHT KENTE I think we got 'em all. Come on out. Lil' Boy and his men slowly emerge from their hiding places. All around them lay dead Chinese and bangers; the bullet holes in their bodies still smoking. The two Jamaican parties regroup and Kente begins barking orders. KENTE Let's move, get the smack loaded. Hurry up. Into the van. Yes. He turns away from the workers, lights a cigarette and pulls his cell phone out of his pocket. INT. MUKIMBO'S ROOM -- NIGHT Mukimbo is at his desk when a lieutenant enters, carrying an cell phone. The King is aware of his presence, by can't take his eyes off the naked girl dancing on his desk. MUKIMBO Ah, Rude-Boy, whatcha brung? RUDE-BOY News, King. He tries to hand the King the phone- nothing, not even a reassuring glance. RUDE-BOY It's Kente, sir. MUKIMBO Yes? RUDE-BOY On the phone, he wants to speak with you. Mukimbo finally makes eye contact with the young man, then he looks at the phone in Rude-Boy's hand and turns back to the girl. MUKIMBO Good news? RUDE-BOY Yes. Everything went as planned. MUKIMBO Tell 'em I be right down. RUDE-BOY Sir? Mukimbo looks him straight in the eye. MUKIMBO Ya heard me. Getcha ganja and spray gun, we going down there. INT. BACK ROOM, HUNG IMPORT COMPANY -- NIGHT Metal lockers fly open and men remove shotguns and automatic weapons from within. Long raises him arms up and two men remove his sports jacket and slip a kevlar vest over him. Chin come up behind Long and helps him into a double holster harness, containing two chrome plated .45 automatics. He slips the old man's jacket back on. INT. TOWN CAR, MOVING -- NIGHT The American, in the backseat, is elated. AMERICAN That couldn't of gone better. Did you guys know Royce was working for the buyer? Fucking, what a surprise. As always the Russians are silent. The American dials a number on his cell phone and searches for his cigarettes. AMERICAN (phone) Yeah, we got your ends. No problems. Huh? Yeah, sure. Ok, be there in about twenty. Yup. Bye. He hangs up his cell, but still can't locate his smokes. Then it hits him. AMERICAN Fuck! Hey, I think I left my smokes on top of the car or something. Hey. The Russian in the passenger seat turns around. AMERICAN (RUSSIAN) Yeah. I need cigarettes. Stop at the first convenience store. RUSSIAN No stops. AMERICAN (ENGLISH) Just fucking stop, will ya? RUSSIAN (RUSSIAN) No. INT. DOCK -- NIGHT The door to Mukimbo's limo opens and smoke billows out. Kente reaches inside and helps the King out. He steps over the many dead men and surveys the area. Five of his men are trying to cram a crate inside the van. Everybody else is just standing around. MUKIMBO Bust dem crates open. Take only da horse. All twenty-one Jamaicans help break open the two crates on the ground. They pull the one crate that was already loaded, off the van, and bust into it as well. KENTE Move with purpose. We've gotta get out of 'ere before da rollas show up. INT. OVERPASS -- NIGHT The rear double doors on the van fly open. Long and about twenty-five men are standing outside. INT. TOWN CAR -- NIGHT The American hops in the back seat and the car pulls away from an all-night gas station. AMERICAN Now, that wasn't so bad. He packs his new cigarette pack on the heel of his hand. AMERICAN Turn out here. Go back that way and get on the freeway. INT. LONG'S OFFICE -- NIGHT Jing and David are alone in the huge office. JING This sucks man. DAVID Yeah, I know we're missing all the action. JING How long we gotta wait here? DAVID Tell they get back. JING How's your hand? DAVID Fucken burns like hell-fire. David takes a seat at Long's desk and pulls out his dope. JING What are you doing? DAVID Just making the most of things. Relax, no one will be back for a good while. David fumbles with the vial of coke. JING Need some help? DAVID Yeah, kid. It's not easy with one hand bandaged. Jing unscrews the top and dumps out the off-white powder. JING Never seen it like that. Very shiny. DAVID You've never seen good shit. This is quality fish-scale, from bangers on the East-side. David uses one the Long's business cards to make a couple of rails out of the pile of powder. He pulls his wad out of his packet, peels off a hundred-dollar bill with his teeth, and rolls it into a tight cylinder with his good hand. He puts it to his nose and leans down over the table. He pauses, and looks up and Jing. DAVID You want some? JING Ah, no, better not. DAVID You sure? Jing, considers the offer and accepts. JING Um, ok. David hands him the makeshift straw and Jing does half a rail. His face turns red and he starts coughing. David just laughs. DAVID First time? JING Yeah. DAVID It's strong shit, be careful. Jing takes a moment to collect himself. DAVID You ok? JING Yeah, yeah. Can I have another one? David smiles and breaks Jing off another line. He does it and leaps to his feet. JING This feels great! He swallows, and gets his first taste of drainage. JING Oh God, that's fucking nasty. Jing grabs a pitcher from an adjacent table and pours himself a glass of water. DAVID Hey, slow down there, be careful. Jing downs the entire glass in a few desperate gulps. He looks up at David, smiles, and all that water comes right back up. INT. DOCKS -- NIGHT The side door to the Jamaican van slides shut. On the ground, the bodies of the Chinese and bangers are arranged to spell out the letters: FUCK U. Mukimbo laughs and pulls out a spliff. Kente swiftly comes up with a lighter and lights the King's joint. Two Jamaicans sitting on a pylon at the perimeter, suddenly jerk their heads up. Chin is right on top on them and takes them out with a quick burst from his machine gun. The main Jamaican party turns towards the sound and sees thirty-six heavily armed Chinese gangsters emerge from the shadows. When they come into full view, they open up on the Jamaicans. The Chinese show no fear as they advance on the scattering crowd. Kente grabs the King and hurls him to the ground. They slowly make their way towards the King's limo. The Chinese stop their shooting to reload. There are quite a few dead Jamaicans on the ground. After a brief pause, the uninjured Jamaicans begin to return fire and the Chinese scramble for cover. High-power bullets and steel buckshot tear through flesh and splinter bone as the blood flies and the bodies fall. The sight is gruesome and unrelenting as the two gangs shoot blast away at each other on the docks. INT. LONG'S OFFICE -- NIGHT JING You know what? DAVID What? JING I'm almost twenty-three. I'm a man, a man, ya know, and fuck, Uncle has to..maybe we should? DAVID Huh? Yeah. JING You know, Uncle always trying to protect me. I can handle myself. Fuck, I say we go down there. DAVID I don't think that's such a good idea. Boss said to stay put. And I'm already in hot water with him. He holds up his bandaged hand. JING Ok, maybe. Yes, but they might need us. They might, could be in trouble. The Jamaicans and the Chinese, you know they don't get along and that's not good. They might need us. DAVID Ok, ok, settle down. I'll take you down there, only cause your the boss's nephew. I say you made me take you. JING Yeah, thanks, you know your great, you really are, did you know that? Thanks. DAVID Ah, sure. Try to calm down a bit. I don't want your uncle seeing you like this. EXT. TOWN CAR, MOVING -- NIGHT The Lincoln cruises the small deserted interstate highway. Suddenly, the left rear tire blows out and the car swerves across two lanes, then back into the right lane and comes to a shaky stop on the shoulder. The men exit. AMERICAN What the fuck? Where did you learn to drive? Better be a flat, or something good. He immediately spots the torn tire and bends down to examine it. David's Civic speeds by, going the opposite direction. AMERICAN Shit. Get the spare. The Russians give him blank stares. AMERICAN From the trunk. Nothing. He gets pissed, kicks the tire and moves around back to the trunk. AMERICAN Keys? The Driver tosses him the keys. AMERICAN Oh, yeah, now you fucking understand. Fucken lazy Russians. He opens the trunk. Inside are weapons, a few papers, and a dead Korean girl. No tire. AMERICAN (to himself) Why can't it just be one thing at a time? That's all I ask. (to Russians) Why is there a dead Korean love slave where the spare tire should be? The Russians just shrug their shoulders. AMERICAN Ok. Ok, look I don't want to judge you guys and I'm certainly no saint myself, but this has gotta be like the tenth or twelfth time you guys have done this, and- Police sirens cut him off. The men try to act cool as a dozen cruisers speed by, headed the opposite direction. Once they pass, the American lights a cigarette and closes the trunk. AMERICAN Don't worry, I'm not gonna tell your boss, only because it's not my concern. Fucking doesn't have nothing to do with me. But come on fellas, I'm not stupid I recognize those tattoos she has. That's one of Lehung's girls. He may be old, but he is still a pimp. He's not gonna tolerate this shit forever. He turns away from them and gets on his phone. AMERICAN (phone) Yeah, it's me. No. Well, we..yeah. Yeah, send a car, we're off highway forty-one, about five miles east of the MLK overpass. Ok. He hangs up the phone. AMERICAN He's sending a car, be here soon. INT. OVERPASS -- NIGHT David's civic pulls up to the side of the overpass, next to the van and two other cars. The boys jump out, run up to the rail and stare down at the dock below. INT. DOCK -- NIGHT Both sides are still shooting it out, with devastating results; two cars have caught fire, everything has a dozen bullet holes, and there are bodies everywhere. The police arrive and immediately begin taking fire for both gangs. INT. OVERPASS -- NIGHT David and Jing look on in horror as their entire gang is wiped out. More police arrive as the few survivors make a final defiant stand. Law gets hit protecting Long, and goes down. Law tries to crawl away, but machine gun fire rips a dotted line across his body. Chin rushes over and gets shot in the shoulder. The impact spins him around and he takes a bullet to the face. He falls, dead. Long turns and gets shot in the back of the head. Mukimbo's limo backs up as Kente attempts to drive off. The limo is stopped short when Kente is killed by the police. The car rolls towards the edge and falls into the harbor. INT. MIKIMBO'S LIMO -- NIGHT Mukimbo flounders around in the back seat as the car quickly fills with seawater. He tries desperately to open each door but can't. INT. OVERPASS -- NIGHT DAVID Come on, there's nothing we can do. He moves towards their car, but Jing stays by the railing. DAVID Come on. They're all dead! He grabs Jing's shirt collar. Jing spins around and snatches his hand. JING Don't fucking touch me. I'm coming. INT. DAVID'S CAR, MOVING -- NIGHT As the two speed away from the dock, they pass the American and Russians and their stranded car. DAVID Shed no tears until you see the coffin. JING Fucking proverbs. Man, listen, what the fuck are we gonna do? David takes a hit off his vial. DAVID We have to get out of town. JING Give me that. David hands the coke to Jing and he does a lot. JING We have to get Susan. DAVID Susan? Who? Wait you want to take your bitch along? Forget it. Jing grabs David's sleeve. JING We have to bring her. We have to. David look at Jing and considers it. DAVID Ok, then we're out. INT. JING'S APARTMENT -- NIGHT Susan is sitting on the couch reading a magazine with the TV on, when Jing and David bust in. SUSAN What the- oh, you startled me. Jing darts around the apartment, trying to decide what to grab. SUSAN Are you ok? She gets up and tries to look at him, but he won't slow down. JING I'm fine. DAVID Where's your money? SUSAN Huh? DAVID Don't tell me you guys don't have some cash stashed around here. JING Ah, no, Uncle gives me a check every month. I not a gangster, remember. SUSAN What is this all about? DAVID She has dope. JING What? SUSAN No. DAVID I've seen her buying it before. You've got money, right Susan? SUSAN Ah, no, I don't do drugs, and I don't have any money. Why do you need money? What the fuck is going on? Jing? JING We have to get out of here. Everyone is dead. Get some clothes and whatever money you have. SUSAN Wait, what do your mean everyone is dead? DAVID Boss Long, Chief Chin, the whole Fourteen-K gang. They got into with the Shower Posse, down on the docks. Cops showed up and starting shooting everyone. JING Fucking pigs. SUSAN I still don't understand. DAVID Just get your coke and come on. Please. She hesitates and looks at Jing DAVID We'll talk about it later. Come on. She sighs and moves over to the dining room table. Underneath, is a shoebox, held to the table by metal brackets. She removes it and sets it on top of the table. SUSAN Ok. I'm ready. EXT. TOWN CAR, PARKED -- NIGHT AMERICAN And that's why I'm not allowed within five-hundred feet of Giant Stadium. No response from the Russians. He lights another cigarette. AMERICAN Interesting huh? Nothing. AMERICAN Ok, ok. Did I tell you guys about the time I met these swimsuit models? Well I was down in Mexico, Chiappas, running smack for a cartel and- He spots a pair of headlights coming down the deserted highway. AMERICAN Hey, you think that's our ride? The Russians look. INT. CHEVY, MOVING -- NIGHT A very upset Hispanic man, HECTOR, cruises down the dark highway in his beat up '85 Chevy pickup. The cab is filled with old fast-food wrappers and empty beer cans. The radio blares some new-wave tejano song. Hector holds a worn photo of him and women in his left hand while he grips a beer and the steering wheel with his right hand. HECTOR Pinche fucking puta! Pinche, Marisol. Aye, mi dios, chingata! Why'da have to go? After he whips his eyes he looks up and spots the three men and their broken down car. HECTOR Maricons. He checks out the men as he passes. The expensive suits and nice car catch his eye. HECTOR Pinche weados, son ricos. He turns his truck around and speeds towards the men. EXT. TOWN CAR, PARKED-- NIGHT AMERICAN What the fuck is this? INT. CHEVY, PARKED -- NIGHT Hector clips the photo to his visor, leans across the seat, and opens the glove box. He removes a snub nosed .38. He checks the gun then stuffs it in his pants, as he exits. EXT. TOWN CAR, PARKED -- NIGHT HECTOR Odele vatos. You need some help? AMERICAN Ah, we're fine. We're waiting on some friends. Hector notices the gold watches and rings that the Russians wear. HECTOR A flat tire don't seem fine to me. AMERICAN Look I said we're fine, now fuck off. The American opens his jacket, just enough so that Hector can see his weapon. HECTOR Hey, it's ok. Just trying to help. Don't want no trouble. AMERICAN Only trouble here is you. The American pulls out another cigarette and reaches for his lighter. Hector pulls his .38 and points it at the men. He's having trouble keeping his arms steady. The American sees this and his cigarette falls form his mouth. HECTOR Take out your pistolas, Set them on the fucking ground. Now fucking wuedos! AMERICAN Do you know who we are? HECTOR Shut the fuck up, maricon. The American and Russians do as they are told. HECTOR Now, kick them over here. They do and Hector bends down to pick up the guns. One Russian opens a car door and pulls out a shotgun. Hector reacts to the sound and shoots once, hitting the Russian in the face. The American and other Russian just stand there. Hector doesn't know what to do. Beat. HECTOR Give me your fucking watches. Yes! Hand them over, those rings to. AMERICAN You're fucking robbing us? They remove their watches and jewelry. HECTOR What the fuck does it look like I'm doing? Hand me that bag. He points to the gym bag in the back seat. AMERICAN Can't let you take it. HECTOR What the fuck is this shit? I've got the gun homes, you fucking do what I say, and I say give me the fucking bag. AMERICAN No. The American and Russian inch closer to Hector. HECTOR I'll fucking shoot you. Back off. I'll do it. He panics and fires. The men duck for cover. Hector grabs the bag and hops in his truck. He spins around and shoots the remaining three bullets into the hood of the Town Car. The truck takes off and flies down the highway. The American jumps up from behind the Town Car. AMERICAN Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! The Russian checks out his friend. AMERICAN He is fucking dead. The American and the Russian pick up their weapons off the street and the American move towards the trunk. AMERICAN Keys? The Russian tosses him the car keys and the American removes two shotguns from the trunk. Then he gets on his phone. AMERICAN Yeah, it's me. Hey, you can call off that pick-up. Yeah. We're fine. Ok. Bye. The Russian gives him a puzzled look. AMERICAN What? What he doesn't know, won't hurt him, right? There is no way I'm going back without the money. Come on. They start walking down the highway, in the direction Hector went. INT. DAVID'S CIVIC, MOVING -- NIGHT SUSAN Jesus, so when you got there, everyone was dead? DAVID Yeah. I saw the old man go down. How much shit do you have? She opens the lid and inside is a half a brick of coke, about ten-grand in cash, and three or four needles. SUSAN About nine or ten grand. JING How could you keep this from me? SUSAN I'm sorry. Look, you seemed so innocent when we met, I didn't want to hurt you. JING Well, you did. Where do you get off playing me like this? SUSAN Your one to talk. I see your glazed over eyes. I'm not stupid, I know you're fucked up. JING Am not. SUSAN Are too. JING I'm fucking not. DAVID Hey. Look we have to get out of town. The cops were there, so they know what's going on. They'll be looking for us. JING Maybe they just showed up because all the shooting. DAVID Maybe, but we can't take that chance. SUSAN Where are we headed? DAVID I don't know. The airport I guess. Let me see that box. She hesitates. DAVID This is no time to be playing fuck-around, Susan. We came back for you. Are you listening to me? SUSAN Uh-huh. DAVID Look, we're in this together, ok? Let me see the box Susan. She removes a needle and hands him the box. Jing shoots her a dirty look. SUSAN What? No sense in trying to hide it now. He looks on as she prepares to shoot up. She moves like a pro. After she has her needle ready, she reaches down and slips her left shoe off. She crosses her legs, like a man would, and glances up a Jing. SUSAN Figured you wouldn't look too closely at my feet. JING I never did. She shoots up in-between her toes, removes the needle and sits back. JING Stop the car. Stop the fucking car. DAVID Relax man. We're only about twenty minutes away from the airport. JING Pull the fuck over, I'm gonna be sick. DAVID Ok, ok. JING Now! DAVID Alright, here we go. The car pulls over to the shoulder and Jing runs out, over to the edge. He leans over and vomits. SUSAN Ya think he'll be alright? DAVID Yeah. He'll be fine. Jing saunters back over to the car. SUSAN You ok? JING Yes. He sits back down his seat. DAVID Give him a hit. SUSAN What? DAVID We need him up and lively. SUSAN Ok. Jing sways in his seat, mumbling to himself. Susan starts to prepare a needle when David hands her a small cellophane package. SUSAN What's this? DAVID A little of Lien's bathtub crank. Susan glares at him. DAVID What? It'll wake him up. She concedes and nods. He's got a point. INT. HIGHWAY 41 -- NIGHT The American and his Russian companion are still walking down the deserted stretch of highway. AMERICAN I fucken shoulda fucken known better, ya know? Fuck, what's the use. We're dead, you know that right? Both of us. The Russian nods, and then taps the American on the shoulder. AMERICAN What? He turns to see a car coming down the road. AMERICAN Ok, be cool. He walks to the middle of the road and stands there, with a smile. The Sedan whizzes right by him, without slowing down. AMERICAN Fuck! You see that shit? He raises his shotgun and fires once, knocking out the back window. The Car screeches to a halt. The two men approach the vehicle from the rear, with weapons at the ready. Suddenly three Chinese men wearing red bandannas, Sings, jump out. They are all armed with submachine guns. The American and Russian are right on top of them, blasting away. The Sings don't get a single shot off. The Driver's head comes apart and he falls. One passenger is torn in half and the other looses his arm. AMERICAN I think you missed one. The wounded passenger gets back on his feet and takes off running. The Russian fires once, nothing. He fires again and the man falls. AMERICAN Nice. Get in the fucking car. They hop in the car and speed off. INT. DAVID'S CIVIC, PARKED -- NIGHT Susan withdraws the needle from Jing's arm. SUSAN Are you ok? Jing slowly nods. DAVID Give him a cigarette. He hands her his pack. She removes a smoke, lights it and places it in Jing's mouth. He coughs and spits it out. JING I'm fine. He slides out of the back seat and stands, wobbling a little. He has to steady himself against the car. SUSAN You don't look fine. JING I'll be ok. He stumbles his way to the front seat and shuts the door. JING Let's go. We have to get out of town, right? Let's go. Susan and David hop in and they drive off. INT. DAVID'S CIVIC, MOVING -- NIGHT DAVID We have to leave the country and the money that we have between us, won't do it. We need some serious cash. SUSAN What so I have to sell my shit? JING Yeah. Well, not all of it. DAVID Yes, all of it. I know a guy. Let me see your cell Susan. SUSAN Why mine? What's wrong with yours? DAVID I don't trust it. It could be compromised. We don't know what's going on. SUSAN Fine, here. She hands him her phone. SUSAN Fucken paranoid. DAVID Shut up, I'm on the phone. She makes a face at him and he sees it in the mirror. He swats at her with his free arm, but can't reach her. She kicks his seat a couple of times. INT. CRACK HOUSE -- NIGHT A teenage gang banger sits on the plastic covered sofa playing video games when the phone rings. After a few beats, he answers. TEEN BANGER Yeah!? DAVID (filtered) Hey, it's me. Put Royce on. INT. DAVID'S CIVIC, MOVING -- NIGHT TEEN BANGER (filtered) Royce? He ain't here. DAVID (phone) Tell him I'm holding. Lot of yay-o. INT. CRACKHOUSE -- NIGHT TEEN BANGER Good for you nigga. He still ain't here. DAVID (filtered) Well, do you know when he might return? TEEN BANGER I ain't his momma. Shit, all I know is he ain't here. He slams down his phone. INT. DAVID'S CIVIC, MOVING -- NIGHT David hangs up the phone and tosses it back at Susan. SUSAN Hey! JING So, what's the deal, huh? DAVID No luck. JING Fuck, what we going to do? DAVID Let me think. JING How are we supposed to get anywhere on ten grand, huh? We don't have enough money. How the fuck are going to get past airport security with all that fucking coke? SUSAN Well were not ditching the cane. That's a fucken lot to just be throwing away. DAVID Ok, ok, I got. We get to the harbor, we get a boat. Make our way to Hawaii, from there, onto to Japan. No, even better, somewhere in the south pacific, where this money will go a long way. SUSAN Ok. JING Yeah sure. I hate to ask, but we could stop? I'm fucking dying of thirst over here. SUSAN Can't you fucking wait a little while? JING No, my throat hurts. Please? DAVID Fine, we'll stop at the next gas station. No fucking around, ok? JING Yeah sure. Hey, there's one. Jing points to the Stop N Save gas station up ahead. JING Up there on the right, yeah, pull in there. Over on the side. DAVID Why the side? JING So nobody will see us. David is confused and ponders that statement for a second. Before he can respond, the Civic has already pull up to parking space and Jing leaps out. EXT. STOP N SAVE GAS STATION -- LATE NIGHT Jing slams the car door shut and leans inside with a huge smile. JING Last stop, we're almost fucken outta here! Jing darts towards the Store interior, the David calls to him. DAVID Hurry up, already. David quickly swings out of the parking space and pulls his car around the corner, up parallel with the front of the store. INT. SEDAN, MOVING - NIGHT The Russian is driving and the American rides shotgun as they cruise the deserted city streets. AMERICAN How the fuck are we gonna find one spick in this city? Huh? It's like a fucking needle in the hay stack. Are you even listening to me? The Russian nods. AMERICAN You know I'm getting pretty sick of your attitude. You should be a little more supportive. We're both fucked on this one, you know. Hey. I'm fucking talking to you. The Russian doesn't make eye contact. The American gets pissed and pulls his pistol. AMERICAN Fucken Russian cocksucker. Fucken look at me when I'm talking to you. The Russian reacts and reaches for the pistol. The gun goes off and shoots a hole on the ceiling. They struggle over the weapon and the Russian winds up getting shot twice in the face. EXT. SEDAN, MOVING - NIGHT The Sedan swerves left then right and fishtails down the road. Suddenly another car, David's Civic swings out onto the roadway and the two vehicles collide. The two vehicles collide; the sound of the metal bending and breaking is horrific. INT. DAVID'S CIVIC, MOVING -- NIGHT David is impaled on the steering wheel, Susan is thrown around the back seat like a rag doll, and Jing is thrown from his window. EXT. DAVID'S CIVIC -- NIGHT Jing rolls to the curb and the last thing he sees is the Sedan sliding across the pavement towards his twisted body. The Sedan smacks right into Jing, crushing him against a brick building. EXT. SEDAN, STILL -- NIGHT A bloody hand emerges from the twisted Sedan. It's the American. He carefully pulls himself from the wreckage and drags his useless body over to light post. He props himself up and lights a cigarette. Two teenagers on street bikes pull up in front of him. He looks up as one biker flips up his helmet visor. AMERICAN (without emotion) What the fuck is this shit? BIKER You like to shoot people from hotel windows? AMERICAN Fuck off, kid. Both Bikers pull out their guns and unload in the American. BIKER That's for fucking with the Dragons. They hop on their bikes and take off. The dead American sits there, slumped over on the corner, his back against the lamp post. In the distance, we can HEAR the approaching sirens of police and rescue vehicles. (O.S.) DETAIL INSERT of his bloody hand. His hand rests on the edge of the sidewalk. Blood slowly runs out his sleeve, off his fingers, down into the street, along the edge of the curb and into a nearby storm drain. THE END.
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