PERMANENT INTERESTS - EPISODE 9

Keeping you up at night…

EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD STREET - NICE - NIGHT

David parks the 500SL. Anne climbs out the passenger side.

ANNE

You're sure about this, huh?

DAVID

I used to be in the news business myself, remember?

ANNE

Vaguely.

She holds him close as they walk across the street to a seedy hotel.

INT. SEEDY HOTEL - NIGHT

The CONCIERGE looks up from "Liberation" as they enter.

CONCIERGE

(bored, regards Anne)

Cinquant chaque heure.

Anne smiles at the implication.

DAVID

No-no. Nous cherchons Harry Long. Il reste ici?

No answer. David drops a 20-franc bill on the desk. The Concierge is immediately not so bored.

CONCIERGE

Numéro dix.

INT. SEEDY HOTEL ROOM

HARRY LONG, a stubbled down'n'outer, is apprehensive at the KNOCK. He slips a Walther P-38 pistol from beneath a dirty pillow, pads across the room in his stocking feet and stands by the wall on the handle side of the door, pistol ready.

HARRY

Oui?

DAVID

(through door)

Harry. It's David.

Harry opens the door a crack, double checks, then lowers the gun and backs away. David escorts Anne in. She doesn't like the gun or the place.

DAVID

This is Anne --

HARRY

Hamilton. I know.

She's surprised by that. David sees the pistol and laughs.

DAVID

I considered that two thousand francs a gift a long time ago.

HARRY

(grins sheepishly)

Drink?

He puts down the pistol next to an ornate chessboard, then he empties a finger of liquid from an unmarked bottle into a dirty glass and frowns at the small amount.

DAVID

How've you been, Harry?

HARRY

Truth be told...not so good.

He moves the red queen to capture a white bishop, then he drains the glass.

HARRY

These days, everybody thinks the lions are going to marry the lambs and buy fixer-uppers in the suburbs. Nobody wants my ravings anymore.

ANNE

I do.

HARRY

You? Or CNS?

ANNE

Both.

DAVID

Cash on delivery.

HARRY

(to Anne)

With a signing bonus?

She nods. Harry slips on shoes and a threadbare sport coat.

HARRY

Let's celebrate. There's a little place across the street.

INT. STRIP JOINT/BAR - LATER

The TOPLESS WAITRESS serves a bottle of Jack Daniels with three glasses and leaves. Harry and David ogle her. Anne shoots David a frown.

Harry pours - the biggest glassful for himself. He downs his and refills his glass. Anne drinks more slowly.

HARRY

Somebody who'd do a Yank, eh?

Anne nods and sips her drink while Harry thinks.

HARRY

Well, I saw a coupla friends from Beirut in deep conversation with a guy from Tripoli last night. Then, despite present appearances, there's always the IRA...

ANNE

Charles William Sims the Third.

Harry is very seriously impressed. He refills Anne's glass.

HARRY

The President's long knife?

Anne's interest peaks.

HARRY (Cont)

That's the big leagues for sure. Nobody I know's got the balls for that. Fuck no. Goddamn Deputy Commander of Special Ops. Uh-uh, too many ripples.

ACROSS THE ROOM

A YOUNG COUPLE at a table. He takes off his Walkman, she leans over to listen. He puts his hand on hers, and the hawk-talon ring on his hand glints a moment.

ANNE (from headset)

Don't you mean, was? He's retired...BUZZ...

The young woman reaches under the table to adjust a small directional mike. Her hand also sports a hawk-talon ring.

HARRY (from headset)

There's only one way Charlie Sims'll ever retire. He eats that shit up with a spoon.

ANNE

takes out a thousand-franc bill and puts it on the table.

Harry grabs it and pockets it before it can fly away.

ANNE

That's your down payment. Put your ear to the ground and I'll make sure it's worth your time.

Harry sees she hasn't touched her second drink.

HARRY

You mind?

(she nods, he downs it)

Waste not, want not.

He stuffs the bottle inside his coat and stands.

HARRY

I hate to drink and run, but...

She writes on a napkin and hands it to Harry.

ANNE

Call me here.

She smiles at Harry as he takes it.

EXT. BAR - TELEPHOTO LENS POV

David, Anne and Harry come out. CLICK! Freeze.

They cross the street. CLICK! Freeze.

David and Anne get in the Mercedes. CLICK! Freeze.

Harry waves as they drive off. CLICK! Freeze.

He walks into his hotel. CLICK! Freeze on the name.

EXT. GRANDE CORNICHE - NIGHT

The moon on the horizon silhouettes the 500SL as it rounds a curve. A dark sedan travels behind it, well back.

INT. THE MERCEDES

Exhausted from her long day, Anne lolls asleep in the passenger seat. David turns, watches her instead of the road, and smiles.

The car drifts toward an oncoming van...

David notices just in time and swerves back into his lane, jogging Anne awake.

ANNE

(yawns)

I shouldn't've had that drink.

DAVID

(eyes front)

It's been a long day.

ANNE

Yeah. I was thinking about your friend, what he said about Charlie. Who would've thought, looking at him.

DAVID

Only rarely is something just what it appears to be.

He maneuvers around a curve and CONTINUES.

DAVID (Cont)

Harry was kinda my mentor, and he saved my ass when I was a newbie in Beirut, back in seventy-eight.

They whip around another hairpin curve.

THE SEDAN BEHIND

follows closer. Its headlights reflect off...

THE REARVIEW MIRROR

into David's eyes.

DAVID

He ran a network in Syria. An op he set up to bring his main guy out went seriously bugfuck. Then he found out it wasn't supposed to succeed. His boss had ratted the guy to Assad's monsters and set Harry up to take the fall. A year later they dumped him as a loyalty risk.

The light off the rearview mirror blinds him. He flips the mirror's night-driving lever.

EXT. GRAND CORNICHE - NIGHT

As the Mercedes slows into another turn, the sedan closes the distance, and - BAM - hits the Mercedes' bumper!

INT. MERCEDES

Anne looks out the rear window. The other car drops back six feet, then rams them again!

DAVID

Hang on!

He floors the accelerator.

EXT. GRANDE CORNICHE - NIGHT

The Mercedes careens wildly as it pulls ahead and rounds the next curve.

INT. MERCEDES

Anne sees the sedan's lights reappear.

ANNE

They're back.

DAVID

(stares at the mirror)

Who's your beneficiary?

ANNE

Huh?

David's answer is to take the car out of gear and then jerk the hand brake.

FOLLOWING CAR POV

A hawk-talon ring on the hand on the steering wheel! The 500SL swings wildly to the left, into the oncoming lane, its brakes SQUEAL...

DAVID

releases the brakes, floors it right at the onrushing sedan!

ANNE'S EYES go wide...

THE CARS hurtle closer...

CLOSER...!

SMOKE BILLOWS FROM THE SEDAN'S SCREECHING BRAKES...

THE MERCEDES roars past the sedan, back toward Nice...

THE SEDAN makes a hurried U-turn, scraping against the rock face, then takes off after the disappearing lights of the Mercedes...

ANNE AND DAVID'S POV IN THE REARVIEW MIRROR

The sedan roars up behind, then...

It accelerates and shoots past toward Nice.

INT. MERCEDES

DAVID

Are you all right?

ANNE

(clutches her Zippo)

I'm not sleepy anymore.

David turns on the headlights and turns the wheel.

He makes a U-turn from a cliffside turnout and continues on toward Cannes.

(For those who may be interested, the slick getaway maneuver is a real thing, capable of making a U-turn on a 2 lane road at 80mph with some training for the driver - we used to keep it as a last-ditch defense driving around in KKK country in Texas.)

You can support That’s Another Fine Mess with a paid subscription for only $7/month or $70/year, saving $14.

Comments are for paid subscribers.