Rush Hour

EXT. CARSON'S HOUSE – NIGHT

Carson comes around to the driveway, which is illuminated by the streetlight –
 

Where two 20-ish ASSHOLES are sitting in his 1965 Mustang convertible, their presence courtesy of a huge cut they've made in the otherwise-perfect ragtop.

Car-theft tools in a leather case between them, they're prying the ignition switch out of the dashboard.

Asshole #1 spots Carson. He gets out of the car, wielding a crowbar. His partner keeps working.

NEW ANGLE

Asshole #1 lunges viciously, swiping at Carson with the crowbar, taking a piece out of his side. Carson starts BLEEDING profusely, but he's too pissed to notice.

Carson uses his bat to take the offensive. They go at each other like combatants in a swordfight, the CLANKING of metal echoing through the neighborhood along with the screaming house and car ALARMS, and frantic neighborhood DOGS.

Surprised at Carson's fury and strength, Asshole #1 backs onto the lawn, oblivious to the running SPRINKLERS.

As he backs away, his shoe catches on one of the sprinkler heads. It breaks off, and a huge GEYSER of water sprays out.

Carson holds his bat in both hands and jams the front of it into Asshole #1's breadbasket. He doubles over.

Carson grabs Asshole #1's arm, and pulls it quickly against his raised knee. There is a SNAP and a loud howl as the arm breaks, and Carson tosses him aside.

Seeing this, Asshole #2 gives up on the car. He takes off toward the street. Carson runs to head him off, but he's a lot faster in his Air Jordans than Carson is in his bare feet.

WIDER

Carson grabs the metal lid from a garbage can at the curb and FLINGS it like a huge Frisbee. It sails across the street –

And NAILS Asshole #2's head. He kisses the pavement, stunned.

Carson runs up and grabs him, but he pulls out a long, sharp screwdriver and jabs at Carson with it.

Then, blue flashing lights appear from around the corner: A WESTEC Chevy Blazer. Two uniformed GUARDS get out, and fumble with their sidearms.

WESTEC GUARD
Everybody... chill! Bikini boy! On the ground!

Asshole #2 is still trying to gouge Carson with the screwdriver. Carson glares at the dopey Guards.

CARSON

Asshole was trying to boost my car!

ANGLE ACROSS STREET

Carson's fiftyish, black, next-door NEIGHBOR, wearing pajamas and a robe, comes out of his house. Carson sees him.

CARSON
Mike – call 911!

NEIGHBOR

Been trying...

(has a cordless phone)

It's busy.

(to Guards; re Carson)

He's the good guy, you schumcks.

The Guards seem to get it. Without warning, one takes out a TASER and ZAPS Asshole #2. Carson lets go just in time.

CLOSER

Holding his bleeding side, Carson walks back to his house. He notices the "Neighborhood Watch" sign has graffiti spray-painted on it. He touches it – the paint is still wet. His Neighbor shrugs – whatta ya gonna do?

The PAPER GUY drives by... and tosses Carson's newspaper right under the gushing SPRINKLER.

CARSON
I hate this fuckin' town.

EXT. NORTH KOREAN CONSULATE – ESTABLISHING – DAY

INT. NORTH KOREAN CONSULATE – UPSTAIRS BATHROOM – DAY

Joy is standing on the toilet, blowing cigarette smoke into the exhaust fan. Someone KNOCKS on the door. She flicks the cigarette into the toilet, puts a ZIPPO LIGHTER in her pocket.

INT. NORTH KOREAN CONSULATE – HALLWAY – DAY

Joy opens the bathroom door. Sam is standing there, grinning.

JOY

There are six bathrooms in this house, Sam.

SAM

(fanning the air)

But only one with a smoking section.

She quickly closes the door behind her. Sam laughs.

INT. NORTH KOREAN CONSULATE – DINING ROOM – DAY

Sam and Joy sit at the table. AMBASSADOR HAN and MRS. HAN are having breakfast: radish soup, kimchi and grilled fish.

Ambassador Han reads through the morning's faxed communiqués. He's 43, rarely smiles, and hates living in the U.S. He's dressed in an impeccably-tailored, Valentino two-piece suit.

Mrs. Han is slender, soft-spoken, but as iron-willed as her husband. She, however, is quick to smile. She's wearing a summery dress with a white sweater over her shoulders.

Ambassador Han pulls the front of Sam's shirt to reveal the "Nirvana" logo on his T-shirt.

AMBASSADOR HAN

(Korean)

Go change.

Ambassador Han's X-ray stare turns to Joy.

AMBASSADOR HAN

(continuing)

You smell like a fireplace.

A BUTLER appears with a phone. He WHISPERS to Mrs. Han.

MRS. HAN
It's the Governess...

(into phone)

Hello, Hilda...

CUTAWAY – CLOSE ON GOVERNESS

As she speaks into a cellular phone. She's extremely nervous. We cannot see her surroundings.

GOVERNESS

(thru phone)

Mrs. Han... I am very sick today...

INT. NORTH KOREAN CONSULATE – DINING ROOM – DAY

MRS. HAN

(into phone)

We will see you next week...

(hangs up; smiles to kids)

It appears I'll be taking you to school.

INT. JAVAL'S VAN – DAY

In the back of his van, Javal pats the Governess' hand.

JAVAL

Very good. You may go now...

He speaks with a slight accent, French, perhaps. He pops an orange pill, then unlatches the rear doors of the van. With a quick glance back at him, she goes to open the doors.

Javal grabs a plastic tarp and throws it over the Governess' upper body. He puts his arm across her neck, flicks open a gravity knife and PLUNGES it through the tarp, into her chest.

He drops her on the floor of the van and fastidiously wipes a small smudge of blood from his hand with a handkerchief.

INT. CARSON'S HOUSE – BATHROOM AND BEDROOM – DAY

Carson steps out of the shower. He looks exhausted. Toweling off, he goes into the bedroom, where Miranda is riding an exercise bike, listening to music on headphones and reading the sprinkler-soaked newspaper, all while watching the TV.

ANGLE ON TV

A perky blonde traffic reporter, BOBBI MARCHFELDER, talks to us from a local NEWS COPTER.

BOBBI
(on TV)

... Good morning, Summit Day! It's gonna be the Super Bowl, the 4th of July, the Olympics and Woodstock all rolled into one! All over town there'll be parades, concerts, rallies, festivals... So get out there everyone, but plan your drive-time accordingly! This is Bobbi Marchfelder, your Eye in the Sky...

We CUT TO the White House lawn, where the PRESIDENT is about to board a helicopter.

MORNING ANCHOR (V.O.)

(on TV)

The President is on his way...

PRESIDENT

(on TV)

... It's an honor hosting my fellow leaders in Los Angeles, the capitol city of the Pacific Rim...

We CUT BACK to the studio and the MORNING ANCHOR.

MORNING ANCHOR
(on TV)

We'll see the menu for Mayor Simpson's Brentwood barbecue, right after this...

We CUT TO a MUSICAL MONTAGE of preparations for the events around town.

BACK TO SCENE

As the MUSIC swells, Carson turns the TV off.

MIRANDA
I was watching that.

CARSON

If I hear one more Beach Boys song, I'll shoot myself.

Miranda points at the headphones – she can't hear him.

CARSON

(continuing; while smiling)

I said, if we were having sex once in a while, you wouldn't need to ride that fucking bike every morning.

MIRANDA

(hasn't heard a thing)

Be right with you...

As Carson dresses, we get a LOOK at their bedroom – Miranda's nightstand has two neat stacks of periodicals on it, with Los Angeles magazine and Psychology Today on the top of them.

Carson's nightstand is overflowing with books and magazines about other cities and states: Wonderland Washington; Magnificent Oregon; Welcome to North Carolina."

INT. / EXT. CARSON'S HOUSE – PATIO & KITCHEN – DAY

Miranda, dressed in a conservative skirt, jacket, black shoes, is out on the patio. Her breakfast – a bowl of fruit and wheat germ – sits on the patio table while she waters some sickly-looking ROSE BUSHES in a planter.

Carson, dressed in shirt and tie, looking beat, fries a steak and three eggs in butter. He comes outside with his breakfast and a magazine article: "American Expatriates in New Zealand."

MIRANDA

(looks him over)

Have you gotten any sleep lately?

CARSON

(ignores the question)

Shop's gonna tow the car in – goddamn ignition's trashed.

MIRANDA

Take mine. I'll ride in with Diane.

Carson watches as she carefully picks the dead leaves off the rose bushes.

CARSON

You ask me, those suckers are a lost cause.

She continues, then glances at the article Carson is reading.

MIRANDA

It's not for you.

CARSON

You mean it's not for you.

MIRANDA

I don't chase car thieves in my underwear. C'mon, you'd die of boredom if we ever sold this house and moved.

CARSON

I'd die of shock, from finding anyone dumb enough to buy the place. Even for what it's worth now.

MIRANDA

Lots of people bought at the top of the market...

CARSON

That sure cheers me right up.

MIRANDA

I don't know why we even talk about it. The city's not the problem. So we move. It wouldn't matter. What's that saying: "Wherever you go, there you are."

Carson just looks at her. Reaching for the salt, he winces from the cut in his side.

MIRANDA

(continuing)

I hope you're current on your tetanus booster. Was it worth it?

CARSON

One cut... two assholes in the hospital... Yep.

Carson glances at his watch and gets up.

CARSON

(continuing)

Well, another day of baby-sitting my favorite bunch of people...

He grabs a Bianchi shoulder holster with a Sig-Sauer P-229, 9mm pistol, straps it on, then pulls on a blue windbreaker. Emblazoned on the back are large yellow letters: FBI.

MIRANDA

Ask for a transfer.

CARSON

They're not gonna transfer me. You know damn well why I was bumped down to guard duty...

(as he's leaving)

My outstanding people skills.

Miranda tries to return to tending her roses. But instead, she sadly watches him go.

EXT. CARSON'S HOUSE – DAY

A look of sorrow crosses Carson's face as he watches some YOUNG KIDS laugh and shove, getting onto a school bus.

He then glances at his wounded Mustang, parked in the street. He spots something on the windshield: A pink parking ticket.

The parking sign above the graffiti-stained Neighborhood Watch sign reads: "Street Cleaning – Friday 8-10 am".

CARSON

I hate this fuckin' town.

Carson CHIRPS open Miranda's car: a red Volvo 960.

As he pulls away, we SEE a bumper sticker on the car: a circle and slash through cartoon weapons on one side, cartoon teddy bears on the other, and "Arms Are For Hugging" in between.

EXT. NORTH KOREAN CONSULATE – DAY

The Driver backs the Mercedes out of the garage behind the Consulate. We notice there is ANOTHER MERCEDES parked inside.

Mrs. Han, Sam and Joy come outside. They hear some heartfelt SWEARING:

ANGRY VOICE (O.S.)

Goddamn Limey overpriced piece a shit...

THEIR POV

In the driveway across the street, a man in a business suit has his head under the hood of a brand-new Jaguar convertible. The JAG OWNER's 15-year-old, blonde daughter, LISA, sits in the car with her schoolbooks in her lap.

JOY

Turns to Mrs. Han:

JOY

Can we give Lisa a ride?

INT. / EXT. MERCEDES – DAY

It pulls into the driveway across the street. The Jag Owner is still SWEARING mightily. Lisa climbs into the Mercedes.

LISA
Hey, Joy... Sam...

Joy rolls the window up and the SOUND of cursing disappears.

LISA
(continuing)

Excellent – I can't hear him!

SAM

(raps on window)

The glass is an inch thick.

(points to doors, roof)

Armor-plated. Bulletproof. Bomb-proof.

LISA

Perfect car for L.A.

(looks back at her Dad)

Starts, too.

EXT. CRENSHAW BLVD – DAY

As the Mercedes travels its usual route down Crenshaw, Javal's van begins following it.

INSERT ANGLE – UNDER THE MERCEDES

Where Javal's DEVICE is attached, still waiting...

EXT. NORTH KOREAN CONSULATE – DAY

A dark-green government Dodge pulls up and parks behind one just like it on a paved area near the Consulate gate.

DAVE JUAREZ, (chubby, 40, Mexican-American, a desk jockey) gets out of the Dodge and hangs an FBI shield over his top pocket.

He glances over at North Korean Security Chief COLONEL LEE, (45), who has paused inside the gate to regard Dave, and the outside world, with profound contempt.

Dave, attaché case in one hand and notebook computer in the other, walks to a 10-by-15 detached guardhouse on the far corner of the property, just outside the high fence.