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Black screen. No titles, no credits, no music. Sound of running feet and heavy breathing. Slowly the sound of car horns, traffic and crowds of people rises. A female scream. Black screen snaps to a view of a crowded city pavement, lots of people walking. A man running pushing a woman over. He is in dark blue jeans and a black leather hooded jacket with the hood up and a small black back pack over his shoulders and a pistol in his right hand. He keeps looking over his shoulder as he runs. The road is packed with traffic.
He is dodging and weaving and pushing the people in the crowd as he runs, he seems to be panicked. Not far behind the hooded man is another man in a three piece black suit, white shirt and sky blue tie. He is focused, chasing, and running hard.
The hooded man makes for a break in the traffic trying to cross the road, he gets clipped by a motorbike, and the rider flies off hitting the ground head first. The hooded man spins around but doesn’t fall. The man in the suit isn’t far behind, he starts to jump over the motorbike rider but the rider tries to stand at the same time, they collide hard. The man in the suit hits the ground, rolls and staggers to his feet and sees the hooded man running towards an alley between two of the buildings. The hooded man turns just as he reaches the alley and firers the pistol at the man in the suit and then runs into the alley.
The shot misses the man in the suit and hits the motorbike rider in the left arm, bringing him down again. The man in the suit turns to look at the biker who has been shot, he pauses momentarily and he sees a young woman wearing a bright red oversized coat with a large hood which is down but flapping behind her, she is much farther down the other side of the street, but she is in pursuit, running while holding a mobile phone to her ear. The man in the suit swears under his breath.
He turns and runs after the hooded man into the alley.
All the traffic has stopped horns blaring and people are scared and shouting, because of the biker lying in road bleeding.
The woman in the red coat runs to the biker pulls him to side of the road. She grabs a bystander and shouts comrades.
Woman in the red coat: “You! Put pressure on this wound and hold tight. You!”
She points to another bystander
Woman in the red coat: “Call an ambulance. Now!”
She turns and looks at the alley the men went into. She talks into her phone.
Woman in the red coat: “More shots fired! Biker shot in the arm. Where’s my back-up? NO! Now! Oxford Street, the alley between 187 and 189. Yes! I repeat shots fired! Bloody move it. I don’t care about the sodding traffic! I’m going after him.”
She run towards the alley.
Cut to the end of the alley as the hooded man runs out of it, there are more buildings all around. He runs towards one of the buildings and throws open a back fire exit door. The man in the suit isn’t far behind. The door slams shut as the man in the suit gets to it. He stops at the door pulls out a pistol from under he left arm. He takes a deep breath and opens the fire exit with his gun ready. He is faced with a lot emergency stairs. High above we hear running footsteps on the stairs. He looks up; he is slightly out of breath.
Man in the suit -quietly to himself-: “Oh come on Jacques, give me a break.”
He starts running up the stairs. He checks each turn in the stairs gun first and keeps looking up the gap between the stairs trying to see where the hooded man is. Every four flights there is a door. He checks each door, they are all locked and he can hear running footsteps still above him. There is a lot of stairs.
Cut to the top of the stairs; there is one door with a bar emergency handle. The man in the suit is out of breath, he stops, takes a few deep breaths to steady himself. He kicks the door open and stands to the side while still in side. There is no gun fire.
Cut to big flat roof. It is wide and long. No cover at all. A one meter high wall runs around the edge of the roof. The man in the suit walks through the open door, gun raised and ready. Jacques is standing on far opposite wall around the edge of the roof, he has his gun up and ready just like the man in the suit.
Jacques: “Vieil homme!”
Man in the suit: “Shut up Jacques and put the gun down, you’ve nowhere to go.”
The man in the suit is slowly walking forward, his gun still raised, steady and locked on Jacques.
Jacques -a slight French accent-: “Are you out of breath Vieil homme? Are you really ready to die, Die?”
Die: “You’re welcome to die with me, dickhead.”
Jacques: “Grossier!”
The two men stare at each other, both aiming at each other hearts. Jacques tilts his head very slightly.
There is a loud bang behind Die as the woman in the red coat bursts out on to the roof, she is holding above her head a standard issue UK police expandable baton, in her other out stretched hand she holds her ID and arrest card, she seems totally oblivious to the fact that she is out gunned.
Woman in the red coat: “Detective Lovett, Metropolitan Police! Put your weapons down and get on your knees. You are both under arrest. Do it now!”
A small smirk plays on Jacques mouth and he shifts his weight and aim very slightly (because Lovett is a long way behind Die the angle between aiming at Die and aiming at the her is very small.) he firers at Lovett.
Die was already moving getting between Jacques and Lovett. Die fires three times as he moves. Die takes Jacques shot full in his chest, he staggers back and falls backward hitting the back of his head hard on the ground. At the same time Jacques is hit threes in his chest and falls backwards off of the roof without a sound.
Detective Lovett runs to Die, he seems unconscious no dead. She kicks his gun as far away as she can and runs to the wall at the edge of roof and looks down.
The street below is empty, no body.
Lovett: “What the …?”
She turns back to the roof. Die is siting crossed legged with his right hand on the back of his head and his left on his chest. There is a hole in his shirt, waist coat and tie but no blood, he is clearly in pain but very alive. Lovett puts her ID in her coat pocket rises her baton again and pulls a pair of hand cuffs from the same pocket.
Lovett: “You. On your knees, hands behind your back.”
Die looks at his right hand, he has blood from the back of his head on his palm.
Die: “You are joking right?”
Lovett: “Do I look like I am joking?”
Die stares in to her eyes for a moment.
Die: “Nope; I guess a woman who runs toward two men with guns while she is just holding a stick is maybe not the joking kind. Why did you do that?”
Lovett: “It’s not a stick… just shut up and get on your knees and…”
Die : “Put my hands behind my back, I know.”
Die grunts with pain as he gets up on his knees and puts his hands behind him. Lovett moves slowly round behind him. Quickly she puts her baton under her arm and puts the cuffs on him and grabs her baton again and raises it high.
Lovett: “On your feet. You’re under arrest for murder and possibly attempted murder… and other stuff that I will think of later.”
Die: “Have you been a Detective long?”
Lovett: “Shut up.”
As he gets to his feet Die looks up and notices a big white CCTV camera with a small red LED flashing on the side of it. It is on the wall on the nearby building.
Die: “Oh great.”
He looks down and to his left trying not to let the camera see his face.
Die: “Detective Lovett, I know you will not like hearing this but you are very wrong and you better hold your nose.”
Lovett: “Just shut up until I get you back to the yard ok?” … “Why hold my nose?”
Die: “Because you are about to be in deep shit.”
The roof door bangs open again and five uniformed police officers run out.
Police officer one: “Detective Lovett?”
Lovett: “Where the hell have you lot been? And what does ‘Shots fired’ mean to you? You don’t just run into…”
Die: “You did.”
Lovett: “Shut it you! Oh Jesus, forget it. You two come here and hold this guy.”
Two of the officers stand either side of Die holding an arm each. Lovett pushes her baton against the ground until it telescopes back up and she puts it in her inside coat pocket and takes a clear evidence bag and a rubber glove from her other coat pocket and walks over to Die’s gun as she puts the glove on. She hesitates for a moment and then picks up the gun looks at it, ejects the mag’, and the bullet in the barrel and puts them all in the bag.
Lovett: “You…”
She points at the officer that had called her name and points out over the wall that Jacques fell from.
Lovett: “…I want you to go down to that street and find me a dead body.”
Officer one: “What?”
Lovett: “That is ‘what detective’. Just do it please.”
Officer one: “Yes detective.”
Lovett: “The rest of you fan out and get any shell casings you can find.”
Lovett walks back over to Die and stands in front of him, he is still looking down from the camera. She hands one of officers holding him the bag with the gun in.
Lovett: “Hold this for me officer please.”
She looks Die up and down. And opens his jacket showing the hole in shirt, waist coat and tie.
Lovett: “How are you alive? Is that some kind of Kevlar vest you have there? Oh and a nifty little shoulder holster with three extra mags. How cute.”
She takes the three gun magazines out of their holders and places them in bag with the gun. She looks at the shoulder holster; it is small, black and high under his arms and blends in with his suit.
Lovett: “I better pat you down and see what else you have I think.”
Lovett searches the front of Die but only finds a smallish mobile phone in his inside jacket pocket she puts it into the bag. She signals for him to turn around. Now that Die isn’t facing the camera he lifts his head. Lovett pats his back and then reaches up under his jacket to the middle of his shoulders and pulls out a thin black 18cm long 2cm wide knife.
Lovett: “Just who hell are you?”
Casually she points the knife at the nearest officer.
Lovett: “I would like you to find out who that camera behind me belongs to and get the video footage from it, and if you can’t find who owns it I want you to it rip down and bring it to the Yard as evidence, ok?”
The officer nods his head and walks off towards the door and the stairs. Lovett puts the knife in the bag too. Lovett then moves her face close to the back of Die’s head and whispers.
Lovett: “If you hadn’t lifted your head like that I might not have even noticed how camera shy you are Mr Clevercloggs.”
Die: “Careful Detective, that was very nearly a joke.”
Two plain clothes offices walk up to them
Hogges: “Lovett, what you got there another corrupt banker? Or is it a real Alien this time?”
Lovett: “Oh the chuckle bothers finally turn up. No Hogges, this one is Jason bloody Bourne.”
Die: “That was defiantly a joke right?”
Hogges sees the gun in the bag and grabs the bag off of the officer.
Hogges: “Is that a Sig…”
Lovett: “Sauer Mosquito point two two LR… yes it is. How many cars do we have down stairs?”
Hogges: “That’s an odd choice of gun. We have three cars down there so far.”
Hogges is now eyeing Die up and down. Die is taking no notice of Hogges at all.
Lovett: “Right, let’s get this guy back to the Yard so I can question and finger print him..”
Lovett moves close to the back of Die’s head again.
Lovett: “You seem to have gone quiet on me there. Realising how much excrement you are in are we?”
Die: “Charlotte, please remember I said to hold your nose, it’s going to get deep.”
Lovett: “Shut up. Let’s get him out of here.” … “Wait, how do you know my name is Charlotte?”
Die: “I am afraid that that, is a secret Detective Charlotte Lovett.”
Lovett pushes him in the back.
Lovett: “Move it smartarse.”
Fade to black and roll the beginning credits. Start the music:
Gary Numan’s ‘I am screaming’
-see notes for opening credits and the whole song-
Fade to black.
Fade from black to the inside of a police interrogation room:
The room is three meters wide by five meters long. There is one door with an electronic lock. The floor is white painted concert. The ceiling is three meters high with flat white light panels covering all of it. The walls are painted mid-grey. There are no windows. One of the longer walls has a three meter long by two meter high mirror on it. In the centre of the room is a one and half meter square table, there are four chairs, two next to each other on two sides facing each other.
Die is sitting on one of the chairs with his back to the door. He is still hand cuffed with his hands behind his back. He is lent forward, his head resting on the table his eyes closed. There is dried blood on the back of his head from it hitting the roof’s floor.
Lovett opens the door, walks in and closes it with one hand behind her. She is holding a fawn coloured file folder with the evidence bag on top of it and a can of Old Jamaica ginger beer balanced on top. She is wearing faded blue stretch jeans and a baggy cream jumper and purple DM boots, her hair is tied back. She walks to the chair opposite Die but does not sit down.
Lovett: “Are you quite comfortable there my little mystery killer?”
Die does not move or open his eyes.
Die: “Aren’t you meant to book me in, finger print me, tend to my wounds, maybe offer me a cup of piss poor tea and then throw me in here for this sweet little chat?”
He leans back in the chair, opens his eyes and looks Lovett square in her eyes. She flashes a very fake smile full of fury. She glances quickly at the mirror and back to lock eyes with Die.
Lovett: “It was decided… that in this instance you are a special case.”
Die: “I’m flattered.”
Lovett: “Don’t be.”
Lovett puts down the file, the bag and the unopened can onto the table and pulls the chair out opposite Die and sits down. There is a power play staring contest going on between them now.
Die: “You are younger than I thought you were, must be that coat of yours.”
Lovett: “What’s your name?”
Die: “Not a strong start Detective.”
Lovett opens the file and looks down at some of the papers and looks back up at Die.
Lovett: “Did you know that Sir Martin Augustus Bannered, the permanent secretary to the Minister of Defence, was shot three times through the heart earlier today, and died instantly?”
Die: “Really? How awful. What is the world coming to?”
Lovett: “Did you also know that I saw you do it and I chased you as you ran from scene of the crime?”
Die: “Do you regret the life you never lived?”
Lovett is annoyed but carries on calmly.
Lovett: “The three bullets were point two two LR calibre…”
She looks down at the gun in the bag and back to Die.
Lovett: “… does that ring any bells in your head at all?”
Die: “Bells? My head is ringing a lot right now. I hit it rather hard after saving your life Detective, remember?”
Lovett: “You didn’t save my life. He was aiming at you.”
Die looks at the mirror and nobs to it.
Die: “Would ‘They’ mind if I take off these cuffs, the silly things are a tad uncomfortable and ‘They’ wouldn’t want me to be distracted from answering your insightful questions, would ‘They’?”
Lovett looks at the top right hand corner of the mirror. There is tiny pin point of green light that flashes twice. Lovett grits her teeth and leans back in her chair putting a hand in her jeans pocket.
Lovett: “O-kay. ‘They’ say yes.”
Before she even pulls the key from her pocket Die leans forward rubbing his left wrist with his right hand, the cuffs now dangle from his right wrist. Lovett’s body tenses up but she refuses the visible urge to react. They stare at each other, fury plays on Lovett’s face.
Die: “Your pretty brown eyes turn a dark greeny hazel when you’re angry Charlotte.”
Lovett: “Really? Has that chat up line ever worked, Mr… what is your name?”
Die clears his throat but says nothing. Just stares into Lovett’s eyes.
Lovett: “Who was the other man on the roof? The one that shot you. Did he double cross you, is that why you shot him three times?”
Die: “You didn’t find his body did you?”
Lovett: “So you do admit to shooting him then?”
Die: “Would you have the correct time on you Detective Lovett?”
Lovett: “Why? Is there an appointment you think you are going to be keeping? Because, trust me, you are going to be at least twenty years late for it.”
Die: “Look detective, I grant you that you are very good at your job but things aren’t as simple as you see them.”
Lovett: “I know what I saw.”
Die: “I estimate that we have about fifteen minutes before that door behind opens. And then two men will walk in with a woman carrying a large briefcase walking behind them. And they will then cuff me and take me to a waiting car and you will be told to forget everything…”
Lovett -whispering-: “Who the hell do you think you are?”
Die -whispering-: “…you will be left all alone, missing me dearly and wondering what we could have been to each other. But the point is…who do you think I am?”
There is a loud thump from the mirror followed by muffled shouting. Lovett looks to the mirror and back to Die.
Die: “Looks like my time estimate was wrong.”
Lovett is looking a little confused. Die leans forward and gently places his right hand fingers and thumb on the can of ginger beer.
Die: “You do have intelligent eyes Detective.”
Die stands up and cuffs his own hands behind his back. Lovett jumps to her feet.
Lovett: “What do you think you doing? Sit down! We are not done!”
Die: “I am sorry you don’t get to win today Charlotte, I really am. But there is always tomorrow.”
Lovett: “Sit – Back – Down!”
Die: “Goodbye Detective.”
The door is kicked open so hard it slams into the wall and two massive men walk in, both are wearing blue suits. One walks up to Lovett and stands like a wall in front of her the other stands next to Die. A tall blonde women wearing a bright blue summer dress walks in, she is carrying a large brief case.
Lovett: “What the hell is going on here, get out all of you!”
The man standing in front of Lovett puts a huge hand on her shoulder and forces her to sit in the chair and with his other hand he picks up the file and the bag from the table and hands them to the other man, the tall woman opens her brief case and the man drops them in. Lovett struggles to get the massive hand off of her shoulder.
Lovett: “You can’t take that it is evid…arrgh! Get off of me!”
Die turns quickly to look into the eyes of the man now squeezing Lovett’s shoulder.
Die: “Stop hurting her.”
The man relaxes his grip. There are now a lot of officers outside the door trying to look in. The tall woman is completely un-phased by them. She looks at Die.
Tall Woman: “Ready to go Six-Seven?”
Die: “Not really.”
Tall woman: “Tough.”
The tall woman nods and the two large men grab Die by the arms and leave the room and pushing everyone out the way, the tall woman following behind.
Lovett explodes from the chair in fury running to the door.
Lovett: “NO! He is mine! He killed the permanent secretary! You can’t take him!”
Suddenly Hogges is in front of her holding her by the tops of her arms pushing back into the room.
Hogges: “Lovett!”
Lovett: “No! Get out the way Hogges! He did it!”
Hogges: “You have to leave it Lovett. It’s way above us now.”
Lovett: “That’s bollocks Hogges! He is mine!”
Hogges: “Lovett! Think! It is over.”
Lovett: “No! He is mine! Don’t make hurt you Hogges!”
Hogges -quieter-: “Charlotte, they are S-I-S, we can’t do anything. Leave it girl.”
Lovett: “Don’t call me a girl!” … “Secret Intelligence Service?”
Hogges nods and Lovett pulls herself free of Hogges and throws herself into the chair Die was sitting in.
Hogges: “Yep, real old fashion Bond stuff.”
Lovett: “That woman called him Six-Seven so he is one of them.”
Hogges: “Yep.”
Lovett: “He went rouge?”
Hogges: “Nope.”
Lovett: “He killed the permanent secretary. I saw him.”
Hogges: “They say not.”
Lovett: “But that would mean he is on our side…”
Hogges: “Yep, he is on our side and it seems he saved your little arse from being shot by a very bad guy.”
Lovett: “But I saw him.”
Hogges: “They say, you are wrong Lovett.”
Lovett: “He told that man to stop to hurting me and he stopped. Oh god. And he told to hold my nose.”
Hogges: “Your nose?”
Lovett turns to the table and bangs her head on it hard.
Lovett: “Deep shit.” … “When did you know?”
Hogges: “Just before that Hulk kicked this door in. I was with the captain behind the mirror, it me was that banged on it. The Cap’ wants to see you by the way.”
Lovett: “Oh fuck.”
She sits there her arms out stretched before her on the table and slowly, but more gently this time, bangs her head on the table again.
Lovett: “I saw him do it… didn’t I?” … “I’m sure I did.” … “So wait, they took him out of here like that in hand cuffs because he is undercover? And the other guy on the roof, he did it and… does a vanishing act to get way and an SIS agent lets me arrest him? This makes no sense.”
Hogges: “Sense? When does SIS ever make sense? It’s all show and misdirection with them. Those flashy sods like confusing things, making a drama and keeping their little secret identities; they like making us look bad!” … “Do you know they get paid about eight times more than us? It’s out of our hands now anyway. He might be undercover and the bad guys are watching, yeah. But it is nothing to do with us anymore. They are always testing people Lovett, double talk bollocks. Just leave it. Understand?”
Lovett: “How did that guy disappear?”
Hogges: “ ‘Not. Our. Problem.’ Includes you Lovett.”
Lovett: “’How’ isn’t the thing… why there, that is the point.”
Hogges: “Your orders are to leave it alone or be suspended without pay. Ok?”
Lovett bangs her head on the table again.
Lovett: “Bugger.” … “Ok.”
Hogges turns to face the half a dozen officers standing outside the now broken door they are all rubber necking trying to looking in. He walks towards them waving his hands and rises he voice.
Hogges: “Show’s over shit-wits. Back to work you lazy turds. Move it!”
Lovett puts her elbows on the table and rests her chin in her hands dejectedly.
Lovett: -To herself- “Secret identities? Intelligent eyes?”
She looks at the can of the Old Jamaica ginger beer.
Lovett: “Do I regret the life I never lived?”
When Hogges turns back Lovett is standing up and pulling an evidence bag from her jeans back pocket. Carefully she picks the ginger beer can up by its rim and she puts it in the bag. She turns and she is smiling. Hogges looks worried as she walks past him and out the door.
Hogges: “Lovett, where are you going?”
Lovett: “Those flash bastards just stole my favourite hand cuffs. I’m getting them back.”
She starts moving quicker.
Lovett -to herself-: “And I think he wants me to help.”
Hogges: “Oh Lovett, no. Don’t muck about with this lot. They play mind games. You’ll get fired!”
Outside of the Metropolitan Police Headquarters:
There are three black Jaguar XJ cars parked by the pavement but all have their engines running. The large men escort Die to the middle car, one of the men opens the back door and Die gets in still with his hands cuffed behind him and the man closes the door. The two men then walk over to the car at the front and get in the back as the tall woman walks to the third car and gets in the back of it. Inside the middle car Die is sitting next to a heavy set dark skinned woman who is wearing a light grey skirt suit. She does not look at all happy.
Die: “Good afternoon Boss Lady.”
Boss Lady: “Do not test me today Six-Seven, I am not in a good mood.” “What went wrong Die?”
Die is leaning forward and fidgeting with his hands behind his back.
Die: “Umm, I’d say nearly everything to be honest Boss. Sorry about that. But the video footage from the roof might help work out how he got away at least.”
Die pulls his arms from behind his back, the hand cuffs are now completely off. Out of his window he sees Lovett running out the police station doors and towards the car.
Boss lady: “Why her? And how did she see you?”
Die is still looking at Lovett, she is holding the bag with the can of ginger beer in it and she is getting closer.
Die: “She is really good… and she could be even better.”
Die presses the window button and the window slides down half way, he reaches out with his right hand.
Boss Lady: “Is it wise to encourage her?”
Die drops the hand cuffs on the pavement next to the car; he can hear Lovett shouting.
Die: “We’ll see.”
Lovett: “You are not going to get away with this dickhead!”
Die: “She is fearless and doesn’t miss much either and but she could learn to be more… careful.”
Boss Lady: “Careful? Ha like you? As long you are sure she can help not hinder.”
Die looks Lovett in the eyes and lifts his right index finger to his lips and mimes ‘shush’ at her and he winks at her as the window slides back up. The cars all pull away and drive off.
Die: “I’m sure.”
Boss Lady: “Pórta, what video footage you are talking about.”
Agent Pórta Die turns to look at the Boss Lady.
Die: “Oh shit.”
Cut back to Lovett. She bends down and picks up her hand cuffs and slips them in her back jeans pocket. She seems to be trying not to smile. Lovett rubs her forehead where she hit it on the table.
Lovett -talking to herself-: “Cocky little sod.”
A uniformed police officer walks up behind Lovett as she watches the cars disappear, the officer is carrying a black plastic bin bag.
Police Officer: “Detective Lovett, I got it for you.”
Lovett turns round still trying not to smile.
Lovett: “I’m sorry, you have what for me?”
Police Officer: “The CCTV camera you wanted. It must have a battery inside. Made it easier to get off the building at least.”
Lovett starts to laugh.
Lovett: “You might have just made my day a whole lot better, thank you.”
Police Officer: “But you know there won’t be any video on it right? You’ll have to find where the signal went to…”
Lovett: “Why, what do you mean?”
Police Officer: “It’s a single unit… it is a transmitter not a physical recorder.”
Lovett’s face drops.
Lovett: “Oh shit.”
Cut to black. Gary Numan sings from the song ‘I am screaming’
“You’re welcome to walk with me
You’re welcome to walk alone
You’re welcome to stand with me
You’re welcome to stand alone”
Cut from black to the roof top from earlier, it is night time now, a cold crisp night; but light pollution from the city and the other nearby buildings means it isn’t completely dark.
Lovett is bent over looking around at the ground by the wall where Jacques fell off. She is wearing her bright red coat again but this time she is also wearing a sky blue woolly hat with a big white fluffy woolly bobble ball on the top the hat is pulled down over her ears.
She stands up and looks closely at the top of the wall where Jacques was standing when Die shot him. She runs a finger over the spot where Jacques was.
There is a voice from behind her.
“Oh that is a wonderful hat! Do you have the mittens to match?”
Lovett spins round, her right hand flying into her inside coat pocket. Her baton is in her hand and extended before she even sees who it is; she start to run forward ready to fight. It is Die. She stops.
Lovett: “Oh god, you bastard!” “I should beat your arse!”
Die: “Maybe later if you ask nicely. What are you looking for?”
Lovett: “Oh you think we are friends now do you, you lying sod. You deliberately made me look and feel like an idiot!”
Die: “Oh Detective come on, play nice. You were briefed about me by your Captain weren’t you?”
Lovett: “Oh yeah it went along the lines of ‘Drop it Lovett. He doesn’t exist. Forget all about the murder. There is a puppy missing in Kensington, now piss off and sort that out, there’s a good girl.’”
Die: “Oh… sorry. You did run my finger prints off of the can didn’t you?”
Lovett: “Yes.”
Die: “And you found?”
Lovett: “Fuck all! As you knew I would you cocky git. You don’t exist!”
Die is really trying not to laugh.
Die: “Umm yes… sorry. I am really sorry. But it did make you more determined didn’t it?”
Lovett: “You were testing me!? And I don’t like being made a fool of by arrogant dickheads!”
Die: “If it’s any consolation I do not think you are a fool. Well, maybe a little in that hat.”
He laughs. Lovett rises her baton high again, anger on her face. Die puts his hand up in surrender.
Lovett: “Arrogant bastard!”
Die: “Ok. Ok I’m sorry. I am sorry… I’m really sorry. I had my reasons.” “Look if you put your little magic wand away I promise I will tell you nearly anything you want to know.”
Lovett: “You patronising sod! You can just piss right off!”
Die: “Please? I think maybe you could help me, I really do.” “Better than looking for a puppy surely?”
She pushes the tip of her baton against the ground making it collapse again and puts it back in her pocket.
Lovett: “Wait, what do you mean ‘nearly anything’?”
Die: “Secret – Service, Lovett. Come on behave, you know I can’t tell you everything.”
He reaches into his jacket pocket and takes something out and with a gentle under arm throw he tosses it to her.
Die: “I got you a gift. A peace offering.”
Lovett catches it easily and holds it at arm’s length by the bottom as if she could contract a disease from it. It is a can of Old Jamaica ginger beer. She looks at it suspiciously.
Lovett: “Really!? I bet Bond isn’t this cheap when it comes to gifts.”
Lovett looks up slightly from the can but still holds it at arm’s length as she looks at something else.
Lovett: “Who replaced that camera already?”
Die: “What camera? Oh Shi…”
Die dives towards Lovett, the Old Jamaica ginger beer can explodes just as he hits her wrapping his arms round her waist and knocking her and himself to the ground. He drags her close to the roof wall. He holds her close to him trying to shield her face with his hand as two more almost silent bullets from somewhere the other side of the wall strike the ground not far from where they had been standing.
Die: “That son of bitch! I should have aimed for his head!”
Lovett: “Get off of me!”
Die: “Only if you promise to stay down.”
Lovett: “Ooooh right. Don’t put my head above the wall because a mad man is shooting at us, right? I’d have never thought of that… you really are a git.”
Two more bullets hit the ground a bit closer to them this time. Die pulls out his mobile phone
Die: “Why wait so long to shoot at us? “
Lovett: “That camera you were so shy of, I got it and got nothing from it, we couldn’t even find out who owns it or where it was transmitting to. So, that psycho twat running up here was planned around the camera?” “Oh I am an idiot! The fire exit door at street level, I could open it from the outside and so did you. This roof was part of the killing from the start.”
Die: “Damn it no signal!” “We knew that already because of him disappearing, that needs setting up, but you spotted the camera connection.”
Lovett: “You mean you did! Buy why the camera? And why a new one? And how did he know we would come back tonight? Fuck it I don’t get it.”
Die: “Do you always swear this much?”
Lovett: “No, only when I am angry.”
Die: “So… all the time then?”
Lovett pulls out her mobile phone and looks at it.
Lovett: “Is this really the time for sarcasm? I haven’t got a signal either; I bet that camera is jamming our phones somehow too. Oh no, no-one knows I am here… apart from you. How did you know I was here?”
Die: “I was following you; no one knows I am here either.”
Lovett: “You were following me? How creepy is that!? Why?”
Die points at his own face.
Die: “Hello. Me. Spy. It’s my job.” “Be-sides it’s more fun than just tracking you phone.”
Lovett: “You are tracking my phone! You little sh… no; we can sort that out later when I kick you in head. If you are tracking my phone someone else at SIS knows where we are, right?”
Die: “Well, no. I did it unofficially.”
Lovett: “Creepy much? I could arrest for that.”
Die: “No, you really couldn’t.”
Four more bullets hit the ground.
Lovett: “Jesus how many bullets does he have! He’s playing with us!”
Die puts his right hand into his jacket under this left arm and pulls out his Sig Sauer.
Lovett: “What are we going to do?”
Die: “I am thinking about it.”
Three more bullets hit the ground not far away. And one more ricochets off the top of the wall.
Lovett: “Oh great. Take your time, no rush. I mean we could be for hours… I have book in one of these pockets somewhere; I’ll have a little read SHALL I?”
Lovett puts her hand inside her coat and pulls out her baton. Die is looking around trying to find a way out when he hears the metal ‘shink’ noise of the baton extending.
Die: “Oh that thing is going to be a big help, ‘remember it is swish and flick’. Mind you expelliarmus would be useful right now.”
There is a dull thud noise as Lovett hits Die on the head with the baton.
Die: “Ow.”
Lovett: “Maybe now you will stop taking the mick and get us the hell out of here Mr Spy. Think of a plan… Six-Seven!”
Lovett stifles a laugh.
Lovett: “Nope, I can’t say that with a straight face. What is your real name?”
Die: “Die.”
Lovett: “Great plan, ‘we’re going to die’ I love it. Very ‘up beat’ thinking.”
Die: “No, my name is Die.”
Lovett: “DIE?! What, as in hair dye?”
Die: “No, as in dead. Die. Frist name Pórta.”
Lovett: “Pórta Dead Die? Oh give over… I bet it is Brian really.” “Or Bob. You look like a Bob to me.”
Die: “Agent Pórta Die of her majesty’s secret service.”
Lovett: “Or a Stan… yeah Stan seems more likely.”
Die: “Are you deliberately being obtuse or are you just insane?”
He looks at her. She is grinning at him.
Lovett: “Who’s the funny one now Agent Door? Yeah I know that Pórta mean Door in Greek. Why ‘Door’ for god sake?”
Die: “You’re insane Miss Lovett.”
Lovett: “Says the grown man that answers to ‘Six-Seven’ and Door!” “Have you thought of anything to help us out of here yet?”
Die: “To start off I have to shoot that thing.”
Die points over to the far wall. From where they are now sitting the lens of the CCTV camera is just visible above the wall.
Die: “He is looking at us via it.”
Lovett: “Go on then.”
Lovett looks over at the camera expectantly, staring hard at it. Nothing happens. Slowly she turns back to look at Die again.
Die: “What? … It’s not an easy shot from here without a scope.”
Lovett: “You seemed a good shot earlier.”
Die: “That was in daylight, and before I got mild concussion, a hairline fracture in my chest bone and bruise that is bigger than your head! So forgive me if I think I might not hit it right now. And you are in the way.”
Lovett: “God sake! Ok I’ll get behind you then.”
Lovett angrily stands up to move over. Die grabs a handful of the front of her coat and pulls her back down again hard. A bullet sings through the top of the white bobble ball on her hat, taking a chunk out of it. She lands hard on her bum and sits there wide eyed not moving. Die puts a hand on Lovett’s chest and looks her in the eyes. There are little bits of white wool raining down on them.
Die: “Detective?” “Are you ok?” “Lovett?”
Slowly Lovett moves her left hand (the baton still in her right hand) up to the top of what is left of the bobble on her hat and feels the damage.
Lovett: “Oh… my bobble. He killed my bobble!”
She puts her head back, looking up and shouts.
Lovett: “I’m going to beat you to death, you bobble murdering bastard!”
Die: “Oh great you ARE insane.”
A bullet hits the ground not more than five meters form her feet. She pulls her feet up closer to her. Lovett looks down at Die’s hand on her chest. And brushes it away.
Lovett: “If you have finished copping a feel will you shoot the damn camera already?” “I love this hat.”
Die: “I need to get higher to guarantee hitting it and he can see us via the damn thing. And I would rather not get a bullet to the head as well as the chest in the same day!” “And cop a feel? Through that coat, are you joking?”
Lovett: “What is wrong with my coat!?”
Die: “It is at least two sizes too big for you for a start. You could hide two of you in there, god only what is in there with you.
Lovett: “I like pockets!”
Die: “You have a really big ‘Little Red Riding Hood’ fetish don’t you? Do you huff and puff and blow…”
Lovett: “That’s the three little piggys idiot.” “Frist my hat and now my coat, what are you, the bloody fashion police!?”
Die: “Double ‘O’ Vogue! I like it.” “Why he is shooting from there, the angles are all wrong. And the first shot… we should be dead already.”
Lovett: “Right that’s it! I am beating you to death instead.”
Die: “Wait…”
He looks at her baton and then at her hat.
Die: “…I have a ready stupid idea.”
Lovett: “What?”
She looks at her baton and then moves her eyes upwards trying to look at her own hat.
Lovett: “I’m not going to like it am I?”
Die: “Nope.”