KNIGHT RIDER 2000
1 AERIAL SHOT OVER SEATTLE – MAGIC HOUR
A city cast in post-sunset magenta, electricity as far as the eye can see. Ant-sized vehicles crowd through tunnels which pass beneath geometric skyscrapers. Seattle has grown up.
2. EXT. ANACORTES PRISON – NIGHT
Prison…but no barbed wire. No watchtowers. Not a guard in sight. This tall, sprawling complex more closely resembles a contemporary lab facility.
3 INT. ANACORTES PRISON – NIGHT
CLOSE on a barred door as it pneumatically opens, finally giving us a sense of incarceration, as do the pair of GUARDS who are escorting a lab-coated PHYSICIAN past us. The Physician is pushing a castered module which resembles today’s EKG machines taken many steps further. Many steps……
4 INT. PRISON – WIDE – NIGHT – (MATTE)
A massive interior probably forty levels tall and a football field deep. Not unlike the old fashioned prisons in some ways, with walkways running the length of each level……but the comparison stops there. The facility is more akin to a gargantuan morgue, barred cells replaced by body-sized aluminum doors stacked one upon the other. Thousands of them.
The Guards and Physician appear about fourteen levels up, tiny from this perspective. They stop opposite one of the chambers.
CLOSER ON THEM
as one of the Guards checks his log book, then enters a code into the electronic lock on chamber number #1433. An internal deadbolt clanks into remission and the chamber slides out, revealing a clear, dome-shaped coffin. It’s impossible to see a body inside; the chamber’s interior is completely saturated in a white mist. The Physician uncoils a thick white cable from his module, and:
INSERT – CHAMBER
He plugs the multi-pronged adapter into a female port on the chamber. A red LED on the port blinks off. A second later it’s replaced by yellow.
manipulates his computerized module as if by rote. Just another day’s work. A decompressing sound begins. He and the Guards look up as the chamber begins to clear, the mist evaporating. The outline of a man’s body appears like an animal on a foggy night road. He’s wearing prison denims.
TIGHT ON JOHNNY WATTS
Eyes closed. Not old, not young. Not dead, nor alive as the fog continues to dissipate around him. Something tells us he looks this way regardless of being cryogenically frozen. A frightening individual.
The Physician presses a final sequence of digits, the yellow light turning green. He and the Guards watch as the fog surrounding Johnny Watts’ face completely vanishes. Several beats…..then his slate-gray eyes flicker open.
5 EXT. SEATTLE POLICE DEPARTMENT – ESTABLISHING – DAY
Nothing much has changed in ten years, if not fifty. The same old brick and stone building downtown.
6 INT. POLICE DEPARTMENT – DAY
TRACKING with a pair of cops as they roughly guide a scuzzy FELON away from booking, taking him down the hall to the holding cells. On the way, the Felon decides to resist, smashing one of the cops against the wall while breaking the other’s nose. The second cop falls into the arms of:
helplessly knocking her down. Her partner KURT MILLER immediately jumps on the creep, wrestling him into submission as other cops rush up and take over. Kurt returns to Shawn, helping her up.
Shawn nods. A bit humiliated. She’s quite attractive, especially out of uniform. In her twenties, long brown hair, a soft complexion. Police work hasn’t hardened her yet. Partner Kurt is black, a few years older. FOLLOW them down the hall.
I’ll probably get hit with brutality. The scum’s a cop killer too…I love this system
They disappear into:
7 THE LOCKER ROOM – DAY
and immediately begin to undress from their civvies. Yes, both of them in the same room. They’re not alone – another dozen cops, a mixture of men and women, are dressing for their shifts as well. The group camaraderie seems pleasant enough; among them are MARLA HEDGES, large, tough and thirtyish; and her male partner JUSTIN STRAND, Aryan-blond, and muscular, around the same age. Hedges slaps Kurt on the butt as he walks by.
Hey Miller, we got the cush detail tonight. Something even your rookie can handle.
Shawn smiles at her cynically, pulling on a boot.
We’re babysitting the Mayor – some fund raiser at the Needle.
All the chicken wings you can eat.
Hope somebody warned them I was coming.
Hedges reaches into her locker with a grin, removing a belt containing a holstered pistol. We only catch a glimpse, but it doesn’t look like your average gun. She straps it on.
So, McCormick – how do you like the street life so far?
Haven’t seen much action yet.
You probably won’t unless there’s a sudden rash of code 17’s at the donut shops in your sector.
Everybody eyes Kurt, laughing.
You’re full of ‘em today, Hedges.
Hedges snaps her jacket, then approaches Shawn…her tone changing.
You’ve got a good partner. Just don’t blow it out there and you’ll be fine, honey.
Hedges does seem to care about her. So do the others.
8 EXT. POLICE PARKING LOT – DAY
as Shawn and Kurt climb into their unit, followed by their comrades. CRANE STRAIGHT UP to reveal squad cars of the near-future; still black and white, but much smaller, looking most like an updated hard-top Miata with an ultra-tech overhead visibar. Traditional license plates are gone, bar-code plates replacing them like you see on most products. The units pull out, heading across rain slicked asphalt.
9 EXT. SKYSCRAPER RESTAURANT – ESTABLISHING – AFTERNOON
The dark, drizzly day continues as we watch the bubble-shaped elevator rise to a skyscraper restaurant.
10 INT. SKYSCRAPER RESTURANT – AFTERNOON
A high profile luncheon in progress. Sitting at the center table is MAYOR FRANK COTTAM, seated next to CHIEF DEPUTY MAYOR JOE ABBEY. Mayor Cottam is glad-handing like there’s no tomorrow. Standing inconspicuously by the hors d’oeuvers table across from them are Hedges and Strand, indulging themselves.
Shawn and Kurt are by the elevator; two other COPS are nearby. Kurt rubs his temples.
I have some anti-inflammatory down in the unit…
Naw, it’ll pass.
You sure? It’s no problem.
He shakes another no. Gives her a small smile.
Maybe a chicken wing’ll help the cause.
He moves toward the hors d’oeuvres table. Shawn waits a beat, then punches the elevator down button anyway.
11 EXT. SKYSCRAPER PARKING LOT – AFTERNOON
Looking up at the restaurant through the windshield of a parked car. ADJIST into a CLOSE UP of the glove compartment as a hand opens it… pulling out a 9mm Sig Sauer automatic pistol. RISE into the still-cold face of JOHNNY WATTS. He snaps back the chamber, climbing from the car.
12 EXT SKYSCRAPER ELEVATOR – ONE MINUTE LATER
As the doors open, Shawn exiting. A beat, then Watts appears from around the corner, slipping in just before the doors close. We see him pull on a ski mask as the chamber rises.
13 INT. SKYSCRAPER RESTAURANT – SAME TIME
As the elevator doors open and Watts steps off, immediately GUN BUTTING the first Cop who’s by the doors. Heads immediately turn, but not in time as he casually SHOOTS Cop #2, who’s directly between him and the Mayor. Watts then levels his gun on Mayor Cottam and matter-of-factly BLOWS HIM AWAY. Screams instantly follow, people hitting the deck.
KURT, HEDGES AND STRAND
pull out their odd-looking handguns, aiming them just as:
grabs Chief Deputy Mayor Abbey, pointing his handgun at the terrified man, using him as a shield.
I’ll do him too, so help me God!
DEPUTY MAYOR ABBEY
Put them down…please….
Strand lowers his weapon, followed by Hedges. But Kurt keeps his leveled. Hedges’ eyes dart to him.
I’m gonna buzz both of ‘em.
You know the code – he might get a shot off first. Put it down.
He hesitates. She may be right. He lowers it. Watts backs toward the elevator.
14 EXT. SKYSCRAPER PARKING LOT – SAME TIME
as Shawn opens her door, grabbing a bottle of pills from the glove compartment.
Attention all Sector Five units: Code 17-X in progress at the Space Needle restaurant per silent alarm. Proceed with extreme caution…
Shawn pales, realizing. Her head jerks back to the skyscraper.
SHAWN’S POINT OF VIEW
The elevator is desending toward her, a masked Watts inside with Abbey.
Quickly unholsters her weapon, running towards it.
15 EXT. SKYSCRAPER ELEVATOR – SIMULTANEOUS
As the doors come open, revealing Watts and his hostage. Watts is about to step off just as:
Shawn is crouched behind a tourist map display case, her weapon aimed. Quite surprised, Watts instantly uses Abbey as his shield again.
DEPUTY MAYOR ABBEY
But she fires anyway, hitting Abbey, who slumps to the ground. Strangely, her gun makes a low frequency sonic sound upon discharge, its oversized barrel simultaneously flashing with a strobe-like light. It’s an ULTRASOUND GUN.
Watts is caught off guard; he hastily shoots at her, SHATTERING the display case glass. Shawn returns the fire, the sonic force of her weapon RUPTURING the elevator window next to him. Her next shot shocks Watt’s wrist, and send his 9 mm weapon flying into some bushes. He dives over a hedge and runs out of view.
Shawn pushes through the bushes, sprinting into the skyscraper Plaza… but he’s nowhere to be seen. Watts has vanished.
16 EXT SKYSCRAPER ELEVATOR – ONE MINUTE LATER
as Shawn hurries back to the moaning Abbey, starting to come to. Her eyes move to the bushes where Watts’ gun flew; she digs through them and pulls out the automatic pistol. Shawn stares at it with extreme discord… as if she recognizes it. She stashes it inside her coat just as the elevator doors open and Kurt, Hedges, and Strand rush out.
Where is he??
He took off through the Plaza. I lost him.
Hedges gives her a stern look before she and Strand trample through the hedge in pursuit.
Shawn nods. She says nothing about the gun in her pocket as Kurt follows Hedges and Strand.
17 A BALL OF FLAMES (COMPUTER ANIMATION)
Instantly following an EXPLOSION… then an automobile appears in the storm’s eye, racing through the fireball unscathed. The car doesn’t seem real, probably because it’s not – this is a computer animated replica of a real vehicle. We only catch a brief glimpse of it here but it is definitely enough to whet the appetite: Deep red. Aerodynamic. Single construction dome which now appears mirror-shiny and opaque, reflecting the flames back at us. A future car indeed, even for the year 2000. Science fact brought to life.
18 INT. KNIGHT 4000 – SAME TIME (COMPUTER/PROCESS)
Looking at the windshield, rather than through it. The glass is a computer-generated 3-D screen, much like the sophisticated cockpit of a war plane. Very realistic smoke and flames bombard our vision as we continue to race forward, the haze clearing to expose a TERRORIST VAN, also computer-animated. A small FLASH from the van’s open rear doors as another shell is launched, EXPLODING DIRECTLY IN FRONT OF US.
19 INT. CONFERENCE ROOM – EXTREME CLOSE UP – MADDOCK’S FACE
as the flames flicker his eyes. Is he driving the car? It’s hard to tell.
Computer-generated Virtual Reality, gentlemen -- much like what our Air Force currently uses.
20 INT. KNIGHT 4000 – CONTINUOUS (COMPUTER/PROCESS)
ULTRASONIC DISABLER digitally types across the lower portion of the windshield; multiple targeting crosshairs appear, pinpointing FOUR ANIMATED CRIMINALS as the van stops and they attempt to flee. The crosshairs burst with light and they all go down like pins in a video game.
21 EXT. STREET – CONTINUOUS (COMPUTER ANIMATION)
as the simulated Knight 400- four-wheel-drifts into a product-shot stop, the thwarted Terrorists just beyond it. A flashy musical fanfare crescendos.
Our view PULLS BACK, revealing that we’ve been watching all of this on a high-definition TV screen at the end of a large conference table. RUSS MADDOCKS proudly holds a remote control, sitting close to the screen with a Knight Foundation familiar face – DEVON. Maddock presses a button and the audio-visual display goes blank, curtains opening to expose the gray, rainy Seattle skyline. He and Devon face the rest of the table.
I don’t know about you but it impresses the hell out of me, if I do say so myself.
Russ Maddock is maybe fifty, but his tough good looks make him seem younger. He has an aggressive, confident, arrogant edge.
22 INT. CITY HALL CONFERENCE ROOM – REVERSE
Sitting at the opposite end is the former Deputy Chief Mayor, whom we’ll now call MAYOR JOE ABBEY. He’s surrounded by several AIDES. Halfway up the table to his right is POLICE COMMISSIONER RUTH DANIELS, a no-nonsense woman in her forties who smiles little. Seated next to Daniels is her ever-present, owlish male ASSISTANT, who’s constantly entering data into an oversized wrist computer/calculator.
It’s a nice simulation. But I doubt even that car could’ve saved Mayor Cottam’s life.
It’s a sad fact we’ll never know.
True, but once completed, I guarantee you’ll be quite astonished by what the Knight 4000 can accomplish.
Devon gives him a look. So much for sensitivity.
Frank Cottam gave me my career. I want whoever’s responsible for his death stopped.
So do we, Mayor Abbey.
…And we’re your solution. Not only do we have a state-of-the-art operations base, but now a cutting edge vehicle which is an entire department on wheels – I’m talking a communications center with worldwide links and artificial intelligence superior to the Commissioner and all her cops put together.
(to Comm. Daniels)
With all due respect, Commissioner Daniels.
Devon smiles diplomatically.
Mr. Maddock’s enthusiasm is shared by everyone at the Foundation. Of course, we’re here in the spirit of collaboration.
Seattle does not need another law enforcement agency. Period.
And I suppose L.A., New York, and Chicago don’t either. Funny, they all have a freelance department now.
We’re not any of those cities.
Maddock stands, moving to the huge window, gazing at the city below as its landmark monorail glides by.
The city of the future…that’s what they said at the World’s Fair back in ’62. I’ve got news for you – the future is here and that monorail’s an antique now. So’s your old way of fighting crime.
Don’t talk to me about antiques. The Knight Foundation was a philanthropic dinosaur until Devon brought you on board.
Commissioner, that isn’t quite accurate. The former Mayor had enormous respect for our company’s accomplishments, or he never would’ve entered into a relationship with us.
Keeping the city safe is difficult enough without a freelance department to stumble over. At best you’ll impede due process, and create legal havoc.
I don’t think I can listen to much more of this…
Maddock refuses to hear him, pacing around the table as he launches into his diatribe.
First you ban capital punishment, then you ban handguns from everybody including your own police! It may work in other countries but it sure as hell doesn’t work here.
It hasn’t had a chance to work. We’re one of the first cities to put a ban into action – we’re setting a precedent for the entire country. There’s more at stake here than a few black market handguns hitting the streets.
What’s at stake are citizens’ lives, not the damn politics.
Correct. And fewer handguns means fewer deaths.
I’m sorry, but the wrong people are getting shot and killed. Slapping a murderer’s hand with Ultrasound deters nobody, and what happens after that? You freeze them so they can come out twenty years later and victimize a whole new generation!
Comm. Daniels’ Assistant quickly whispers in her ear.
Cryogenic Incarceration saves an estimated 1.5 billion dollars a year while solving the crisis with prison overcrowding and cruel conditions.
Who’s side are you on anyway?
What’s your point, Mr. Maddock?
You might be the next one lying dead in a restaurant, Mr. Mayor. Can you really afford not to have us?
A long pause. One of the Abbey’s aides hands him a deal memo, key passages highlighted. He skims it.
I’m giving you thirty days to get that car ready and show me some results, or I’m canceling your contract.
Sir, the Knight 4000 is still in prototype for. It won’t be ready for at least two months.
That’s not my problem. Good day, gentlemen.
23 INT. CITY HALL – OUTER LOBBY – THIRTY SECONDS LATER
As Devon and Maddock step out the door.
We’ll get through this – don’t worry about them.
It’s us that concerns me.
We need help, Russ.
24 EXT. ORCAS ISLAND – SUNSET
As a beat-to-shit salmon skiff glides toward its isolated dock, hungry sea gulls circling above it. Just beyond it, nestled amongst tall ponds, is a woody beach bungalow.
CLOSER ON SKIFF
We haven’t seen him in many years…and time, maybe more than time, has collected its tariff. MICHAEL KNIGHT stands at the helm, a bottle of Ballard Bitters in one hand. Unshaven. Dark circles. A lonely man. He eases against his berth, cutting the engine. Finishes his beer.
25 EXT. BUNGALOW – MINUTES LATER
A black, muddy 1991 Volvo sedan, ten years old now, is parked in the dirt driveway. ADJUST to find Michael walking up from his dock. He moves a little further, spotting a much newer and cleaner sedan parked behind his Volvo. Another few steps and his front porch comes into view.
Michael stops cold. A mixture of emotions hits him, but one is dominant. The pleasure in seeing an old friend.
Devon sits on a wooden bench on the stone porch.
Michael moves towards him. A beat for them to appraise each other, then a long embrace. When they break….
How have you been?
Good. Real good.
Somehow his appearance and voice don’t harmonize.
26 INT. MICHAEL’S BUNGALOW – DUSK
A fire now burns under Michael’s mantle. His home is warm, unpretentious, the antithesis of big city life. Michael moves back to the living room, having just uncapped another bottle.
Sure you don’t want one? It’s a local micro brew.
Devon shakes a polite no.
Michael, I came out here for two reason: to see an old friend….and because I need his help.
Michael knows this tone. Anxiety sets in. He eases himself into a chair. Sips his beer introspectively.
Devon…I’m not the same person anymore. I gave up that life.
Guess I’m on my third one now.
When we saved your life, it was no random choice, Michael. Right from the beginning, we saw something in you.
I still see it.
I’m happy out here.
Michael swallows his Bitters without comment.
I made a promise a very long time ago. A promise to fulfill one man’s dream…
Please let me finish before you say no. Wilton Knight created the Foundation with hopes of finding intelligent solutions to violent problems…problems which have changed little in tens, if not hundreds of years. It’s what’s kept me going, Michael…I truly share the same dream. I wouldn’t ask this of you if there was another answer.
I need you.
Michael moves to his fireplace, warming himself. Still noncommittal.
Come back for the next two months, just until we cement our contract. If you choose to leave after that, I won’t say a word.
Do you remember what Wilton always said? One man can make a difference.
Michael considers it, long and hard. Avoiding eye contact.
Only under one condition.
K.I.T.T. will be waiting for us upon arrival.
27 INT. KNIGHT WAREHOUSE – CLOSE ON BOXES – DAY
stacked on fork lift pallets. All labeled K.I.T.T. A muffler protrudes out the corner of one crate. RISE from behind the boxes to discover the stunned faces of Devon and Michael.
Russ Maddock stands nearby.
I had to liquidate certain assets to make our balance sheet look good. Otherwise we never would’ve landed the franchise.
Frankly, never considered this car an asset to begin with. Good thing the research facilities disagreed with me.
After all, the car was almost two decades old and with the Knight 4000 on the way, it hardly seemed worth the price of storage.
You let this guy actually do this?
This “guy” happens to be your new boss, Mr. Knight. I’d watch that attitude from now on.
Michael just stares. Devon tactfully contains his anger.
I assume you can repurchase the missing parts.
Most of them, I think. If you really insist on this, I can…
Michael walks out, just like that. After a moment….
He’s not exactly what you led me to believe he’d be, Devon.
Devon, maybe for the first time ever, really explodes.
And neither are you, Mr. Maddock. How dare you dismantle that car without first discussing it with me!
I did what I had to do to keep this operation afloat. I make no apologies for it.
Of course you wouldn’t – humility and modesty are not in your vocabulary! I’ve just about had all the arrogance I can take…
You want a nice guy? That’s not me. But I get results.
Yes, like alienating the Police Commissioner who could’ve been our ally and now losing what could be our biggest strength.
You can’t be serious.
If not for Michael and K.I.T.T., the Knight Foundation would’ve died long before you came aboard. Getting him out here was no easy feat.
Probably not, judging by his hangover.
As long as I’m the controlling partner we do things my way, is that clear?
Maddock slowly nods, his jaw firm. Devon storms out after Michael.
28 EXT. SHAWN’S TOWNHOUSE – NIGHT
as a late model (1999) coupe pulls up outside a modern townhouse complex. Kurt’s behind the wheel, Shawn shotgun. Both are off-duty. She starts to get out. Kurt stops her.
Daniels must’ve chewed you up and down for buzzing the Deputy Mayor, huh?
She hesitates, looking at him. Something else is going on.
C’mon, McCormick. What gives?
You know why Forensics never recovered that handgun from the Needle? Because I did.
He didn’t expect this.
I don’t know…it was kind of a hunch. The gun was a nine millimeter Sig Sauer, Kurt. They were all supposed to be have been melted down.
Kurt considers it carefully.
It doesn’t mean it was a cop’s gun. There are lots of nine mil’s out there on the black market.
I know, but I had this feeling about it. Please tell me it’s my dumb intuition.
It probably is.
But why is this particular gun showing up all of a sudden? It’s not the first one lately.
Kurt shrugs solemnly. She reaches into her coat, revealing the Sig Sauer.
Can you run a ballistics on it, just for my own piece of mind? It’s been stuck under my mattress for three days, and I haven’t slept since.
He nods, taking it. Remembering what it was like to hold one.
I’ll do some quiet checking around. In the meantime, say nothing to nobody…this could go way up.
Did I screw up?
He smiles at her. Proud.
You did good. Get some sleep, all right?
She nods appreciatively, climbing out. He starts his ignition. Very worried.
29 INT. SHAWN’S TOWNHOUSE – NIGHT
Peering through her window as Shawn walks up her stairs, pulling out her plastic key card for the door (much like hotels have been using for years, now commonplace in homes). A HAND APPEARS, gently easing the curtain back. Someone is inside her townhouse.
OUTSIDE – SIMULTANOUS
As Shawn continues up the steps, not catching the glimpse of a figure passing by the window. She slides her card into the door lock and opens the door. We go insid with her…into the darkness. Shawn reaches for the light switch and:
Her townhouse is filled with around fifty people, all friend from the force, some in uniform, some off-duty. A “Happy Birthday” banner runs from the chandelier to the kitchenette, balloons everywhere. Kurt steps in behind her.
Happy birthday, Shawn.
Marla Hedges walks up with partner Strand.
From the look on your face, I’d say your partner keeps a damn good secret.
(looks at Kurt)
Suddenly there are catcalls for a speech. Kurt holds up her hands, quieting them down. Shawn takes her time; clearly, she is touched.
I don’t really have a family anymore…at least not until I joined the P.D. The last few months have been the greatest in a long time, and it’s thanks to all of you. I know I have a lot to learn and you’ve been really patient…but mark my words, I’m going to repay you guys by being the very best, that’s all there is to it. I love all of you.
A big applause and plenty of “awws.”
Enough with the sentiment – cut the damn cake!
30 INT. KNIGHT WAREHOUSE – DAY
TRACKING past a pile of components on a workbench, some very familiar: K.I.T.T.’s front grille chaser light. Part of his dash containing the Turbo Boost toggles. The LED voice modulator which lighted in sync with K.I.T.T.’S voice. All of them dormant now. Eventually we arrive at Michael, soldering a connection. Not looking any better than the last time we saw him.
Devon appears, walking over with a “Pepsi Tri-Free” in hand – the cans are taller and narrower now, jet black with the familiar red-and-blue logo. He offers it to Michael.
It’s triglyceride free.
Michael declines with a shake of the head, throwing a switch. Nothing happens.
Care to talk about that ass you hired?
I did what I had to do to survive.
Michael moves away, grabbing some needle nose pliers.
You promised me K.I.T.T.’s body.
That I did.
Once again, Devon offers him the soft drink.
I’m afraid he’s been recycled.
Michael stares at the jet-black can. Speechless.
Now that’s just wonderful…
Both Michael and Devon jerk their heads toward the workbench. The front grill chasers have come to life, along with the dash voice modulator.
…You stick me in mothballs for nearly a decade and then you sell off my parts like I’m a vendor from Manny, Moe and Jack.
K.I.T.T…. it’s marvelous to hear your voice.
I wish I could say the same, Devon, but one of my auditory monitors must have landed in some kid’s walkie talkie.
Even Michael can’t help smiling a bit. An electronic eye shrouded in bare wires swivels in his direction.
Is that you, Michael?
You look like crap.
So do you, pal.
I’m much worse than meets the eye. Where is my random access? Or my graphics board? I can’t even play a round of Pacman in here!
(smiles at Michael)
At least some things haven’t changed.
31 EXT. DOWNTOWN DONUT SHOP – NIGHT
looking through the window of their squad car as Kurt returns with a box of glazed and two cups of coffee. Shawn reaches over, opening the door for him.
Pretty soon they are gonna ban these – I saw eat ‘em while you can.
He grins, taking a bite.
Did you run that ballistics?
The grin fades.
Still waiting for the results. We have to play this low key, you know?
She nods. Disappointed. Suddenly the dispatch comes to life.
Attention all Sector Eight units: Code 17-X in progress, Pike Place second level. Use extreme caution…
Kurt throws down the donut.
32 EXT. MARKETPLACE – ONE MINUTE LATER
as their black-and-white skids to a stop in front of a multi-level marketplace. Their air-raid sounding siren winds down as Shawn and Kurt leap out.
Cover the north exit.
The two of them diverge.
33 INT. JEWELRY SHOP – SIMULTANEOUS
A crazed DRUGGIE has his automatic pistol leveled on the owner, several other patrons face-to-the-floor.
Gimme all of it!
He shoots out a mirror above her head. People scream, the scattered Owner quickly clearing another row of necklaces from a felt display case and dumping them in a bag.
ANGLE – SHAWN
Coming up to a corner in the lower level hall, Ultrasound gun drawn. She sticks her head around a millisecond before a bullet blasts out a chunk of plaster by her face. She flinches, catching a blur as the Druggie races over to a set of stairs in the far corner. RUN WITH SHAWN as she gives foot pursuit, lifting what looks like her watch, speaking into it.
Have located suspect on the bottom level north. Appears to be heading outside.
34 EXT. MARKETPLACE – WHARF SIDE OF BUILDING
As the Druggie slams open the exit door, sprinting beneath the marketplace’s dark support beams. A second later, Shawn appears.
He stops, turns around and FIRES, not the slightest bit worried about her Ultrasound return fire. The bullet misses her and she instinctively kneels and shoots, hitting him squarely. He goes down right next to a wide steel beam. Shawn cautiously approaches, kneeling over him, lifting the familiar handgun from his grip. Another 9mm Sig Sauer police issue.
The druggie starts to come to. She holds him down with her foot, showing him his own weapon.
Where’d you get this?
He comes out of his daze, glancing knowingly just beyond her. Suddenly Shawn feels a BARREL pressed against the back of her skull. Someone has just appeared from behind the beam.
Johnny Watts. Gripping yet another 9 mm automatic.
We meet again.
The Space Needle?
Shawn realizes. He takes the gun from her grip, along with her Ultrasound.
You shouldn’t have picked up that gun, McCormick.
The Druggie pulls off his wig, and his moustache. He’s a SHE. The Druggie is fellow officer Marla Hedges. Shawn is numb with shock.
We can work this out…
Relax, Officer. You’re off-duty now.
He raises his weapon and….
TIGHT ON WATTS’ FACE
BOOM! as he shoots Shawn point-blank. FREEZE FAME into a computer-generated replica of Watt’s frigid face and:
END OF ACT ONE