This screenplay is copyrighted to its author. All rights reserved. 
This screenplay may not be used or reproduced without the express 
written permission of the author.

	


				  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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