RONIN

                          DEIRDRE
               From here on in you want something you
               pay cash for it: no credit cards, no bank
               accounts are in place: ten percent up
               front, the rest when the job is done.
                   (a quick beat, then she looks
                    at Gregor)
               You.  What do you do and what should we
               call you?

                          GREGOR
               These days they they call me Gregor -- and
               I'm a tech.  I do electronic work,
               surveillance, computer runs.

     Deirdre turns to Sam.

                          SAM
               Sam.  I'm a weapons guy.

                          DEIRDRE
               You were a soldier, were you?

                          SAM
               Once.

     Deirdre gives Sam a look -- and he returns it.  Finally,
     Deirdre turns to Larry.

                          LARRY
               I drive -- and my name is Larry.  Larry
               from the States.

                          DEIRDRE
                   (she turns to Vincent)
               And who are you?

                          VINCENT
               I'm Vincent.  And I coordinate.

                          SAM
                   (sharply)
               Coordinate what?

                          VINCENT
               Things.  This is my country, you know.

     The two men exchange another look.  A pecking order is
     developing among the group: Vincent and Sam are both natural
     leaders, and now they're feeling one another out.

                          DEIRDRE
                   (to Vincent)
               Coordinate all you want, but make sure
               whatever you do gets cleared through me.
                   (Vincent doesn't respond for a
                    moment)
               Are we in sync on this, Vincent?

                          VINCENT
               Of course.

     Deirdre waits a BEAT, letting Vincent know what she isn't any
     more intimidated by him than he is by her.  Finally, she
     turns to Swede.

                          SWEDE
               They call me Swede.

                          LARRY
               Who's they?

                          SWEDE
               Everybody.

                          VINCENT
               And what is it you do?

                          SWEDE
               Me?
                   (with a smile)
               I kill.

     CUT TO:

     INT. A WAREHOUSE - DAY

     A PAPER TARGET, in the shape of a human being, dances in
     place as it is riddles with GUNSHOTS, each shot hitting the
     target in the belly, each shot fired by - Larry, whose been
     shooting a sleek automatic pistol from which he's just
     discharged an entire clip.  The gun is empty, Larry turns to
     Sam, who stands next in line.

                          SAM
                   (looking at the target)
               You shoot alright.

                          LARRY
               Gets the job done.

                          SAM
               All in the stomach, though.  Your man
               might live.

                          LARRY
               Not for long.

                          SAM
               Long enough to shoot back.

                          LARRY
               Is that right?

                          SAM
               It's been known to happen.

                          LARRY
                   (a challenge)
               Why don't you go do better, then...

     Without a word, Sam pops a new clip into the gun and SHOOTS
     THE LIGHTS out of several other human targets, hitting each
     target in a different place.  One he clips between the eyes,
     the next in the heart, one in the groin, and then the last
     target - He SPLITS DOWN THE MIDDLE, firing shot after shot
     from the head to the groin until the target is sheared in
     half.  Larry is impressed in spite of himself.

                          LARRY
               Yeah, well...  My way works too.

                          SAM
               My way is better.

     IN A CORNER OF THE WAREHOUSE -

     Gregor has set up a table loaded with computers and
     electronic whizmos.  Right now Gregor is holding a
     particularly high-tech type CELL PHONE in his hands, looking
     at it almost lovingly.

                          DEIRDRE (O.S.)
               Is it alright?

     ANOTHER ANGLE - Deirdre sits nearby, looking at the cell
     phone.

                          GREGOR
               It's quite satifactory.

                          DEIRDRE
               Good, because it cost enough.  There's
               cheaper phones by far than that one, man:
               you better fucking use it.

                          GREGOR
                   (almost caressing the phone)
               I intend to.  This phone is wired like no
               other: it's got an encryption chip and
               instant sat-a-link recognition, it can
               talk to any computer in any language and
               make it understand.  With my custom
               hardware and this phone I can trace the
               target's cell phone signature and follow
               him anywhere he goes...

                          DEIRDRE
               You sure about this?

                          GREGOR
               I'd stake my reputation.

                          DEIRDRE
               But would you stake your life, that's the
               question...

                          GREGOR
               In this business, your life and your
               reputation are more often than not one
               and the same.

     From off screen we hear MUNCHING.  It's - Larry inhaling a
     sandwich.  A malicious look comes over Swede's face, who's
     cleaning a pistol and sitting near Larry.

                          SWEDE
               You should watch what you eat.

                          LARRY
               Who the fuck died and appointed you food
               czar?

                          SWEDE
               I'm just worried about your health,
               Larry.  You could stand to shed a few
               pounds.

                          LARRY
                   (sensitive about his weight)
               And you could stand to get a little
               smarter, ain't that right you dumb blonde
               fuck?

                          SWEDE
                   (sensitive about the dumb
                    blonde thing)
               Who you calling dumb, dickless?

     Both men eyeball one another, and then suddenly Larry reaches
     for his piece, and as soon as he does this Swede does the
     same thing, but before they can do anything - DEIRDRE'S GUN
     swings INTO FRAME, smashing Swede in the face and dropping
     him to the floor.  Larry's mouth drops open in surprise, but
     it's too late: Deirdre kicks him in the stomach and then
     rabbit punches him in the back of the neck, driving him to
     the ground.

                          DEIRDRE
                   (standing above them)
               Next one of you fuckers plays this game
               I'm going to do for you myself.  I won't
               say it again: we don't have time for this
               shit!  There's a clock running on this
               job, gentlemen, and I mean to be on
               schedule.

     A TENSE MOMENT as Deirdre stares down at these tough guys --
     letting them know who's in charge.  A SOUND from OFF SCREEN
     interrupts this moment: a DOOR opening, as we see - Vincent,
     who stands in the door, wearing his coat and hat.

     He's been out somewhere, and he looks first at the squabbling
     men, and then at - Deirdre.  She gives Vincent a little nod --
     a silent command that makes Vincent turn to Sam.

                          VINCENT
               Let's go for a ride.

     Vincent and Sam start off, moving towards the door, while Swede
     and larry slowly pick themselves up off the ground.

                          SAM
               Where to?

                          VINCENT
               To see a man about a thing.

                          SAM
               I can do that.

     EXT. THE WAREHOUSE - SUNSET

     A DESOLATE URBAN LANDSCAPE - Sam and Vincent walking away
     from the warehouse, which is housed in what looks to be the
     toughest neighborhood in the city, filled with CHEAP CONCRETE
     PUBLIC HOUSING and INDUSTRIAL BUILDINGS.

     THE SETTING SUN throws a red glow on the street, giving the
     raw concrete buildings a blood-colored tint, as Sam and
     Vincent approach a FIAT, a car neither too old nor too new.
     Before they can reach the car, the two men are intercepted by
     FOUR TOUGHS, young guys in their early twenties.  The LEADER
     of the Toughs apporaches Vincent.

                          LEADER
                   (subtitled French)
               Who gave you permission to park here?

                          SAM
                   (to Vincent)
               What's he saying?

                          VINCENT
               Pretty much what you'd expect.

                          SAM
                   (with a sigh)
               That's what I thought.

                          LEADER
                   (in French)
               There's a charge for parking on our
               block.

     The other Toughs add lib a few tough guy remarks (in French,
     of course).

                          VINCENT
                   (to Sam)
               He says this is their block.

                          SAM
               As in, they own it?

                          VINCENT
               Something like that...

                          SAM
               And I suppose he's saying that we oughta
               give them something for using it, huh?

                          VINCENT
               I didn't know that you spoke French.

                          SAM
               I don't.  But the language he's speaking
               is universal.

     ANGLE ON THE LEADER - Who's smirking at Vincent and Sam.
     Sam's words make a great deal of sense: the Leader is
     speaking the universal language of "give me some money or
     I'll kick your ass."

                          SAM (O.S.)
               I guess we oughta give them something...

     CUT BACK TO: Vincent and Sam.

                          VINCENT
               If you think we should.

     Vincent backfists the Leader in the nose -- hitting him so
     hard that the Leader skitters back on unsteady feet and then
     sits down on his ass.  This blow hurt, but the real damage is
     to the Leader's pride.  Now - One of the Toughs rushes at
     Sam, only to have Sam perform what looks like a jujitsu throw
     which savagely jerks the Tough off his feet and flattens him.

                          SAM
                   (as if it were an accident)
               Oh man, I am sorry about that...
                   (he sticks his hand out)
               Let me give you a hand.

     Sam reaches down as if to help the Tough, who ignores the
     hand and totters to his feet.  As soon as he's up he turns
     and runs away, followed by the other Toughs.  Now only the
     leader is left behind.  He looks for a second at Vincent and
     Sam, and then turns and runs after his friends.  Vincent
     calls after him in French, but whatever he says isn't
     translated.  Vincent turns to unlock the car.

                          SAM
               What'd you say to him?

                          VINCENT
               I asked if we could give him anything
               else.

     By now the two men are in the car, which starts up and drives
     off, as it does we -

     CUT TO:

     INT. THE FIAT - SAME TIME

                          VINCENT
               That was a nice move you did on our young
               friend.  Judo?

                          SAM
               Jujitsu.

                          VINCENT
               Same thing, isn't it?

                          SAM
               Not at all.  Similar, but not the same.

                          VINCENT
               What's the difference?

                          SAM
               One's a lot more painful than the other.

     Vincent laughs, and Sam looks out the window at the city of
     Paris as we MOVE THROUGH to the outside world of -