3 Hours

3 HOURS

Written by

Ryan Russo

Ryan Russo

[e-mail]

FADE IN:

INT. ONE ROOM APARTMENT - NIGHT

A single floor lamp stands cornered - struggling to light the scarcely furnished living space.

ED LEWIS (late 30s, bruised, detached) sits hunched on a black leather couch in the middle of the room. His head hangs over a square wooden coffee table - white drug residue caked in the wood grain. On the table is a wad of cash, a rotary phone, and a framed portrait of a young Ed in a MARINE UNIFORM.

The phone rings.

Ed perks up and snatches the handset.

TENSION.

VOICE ON THE PHONE(V.O.)

...3 hours.

Dial Tone.

INT. LOW-INCOME APARTMENT BUILDING, HALLWAY - NIGHT

Ed knocks on the door of apartment 17E. He surveys the scene and waits. The apartment door opens as much as the chain lock allows. A man's face looks out from between the door and the molding. His suspicion is relieved when he recognizes Ed.

MAN

Ed? Fuck man what's with the cop knock?

He unlocks the chain and opens the door. The man, WAYNE MUNN (Late 20s, malnourished, scabby), turns and begins to lead Ed through a disarrayed "living" room to a door at the far end of his apartment.

MUNN(CONT'D)

S'not like you man. You always call. But don't worry, I got you. Whataya' lookin' to pick up?

Uneasy silence.

Munn stops in front of the door.

MUNN(CONT'D)

Ed?

Munn turns slowly. He is met with ED'S DESPERATION and a view down the barrel of his SMITH & WESSON.

CUT TO:

INT. ED'S BLACK MERCEDES CLA, CITY STREET - NIGHT

Ed frantically counts some dirty cash. Still not enough. His eyes well up. He slams his fist down on the steering wheel.

Ed glances toward the street as he shoves the cash in an envelope. He spots an Audi R8, a few cars back at a red light. An idea washes over him.

Ed checks his watch and then frantically fumbles for something in his glove compartment.

He pulls out his DETECTIVE'S SHIELD.

CUT TO:

EXT. CITY STREET - NIGHT

A few blocks down the road, Ed has the Audi pulled over. His dash-top police light paints the immediate surroundings red and blue intermittently.

The DRIVER (male, 50s, suit jacket and sweater vest) is out of the car. He's standing bent over with his face pressed down on the side of the Audi's hood. Ed rummages through the man's jacket and pants pockets.

The PASSENGER (female, 20s, little black dress) is borderline hysterical as she stands with her head through the sunroof.

PASSENGER

He didn't do anything! What's wrong with you!?

Ed shoots her a look.

INT. ED'S CAR, DESERT HIGHWAY - NIGHT

Ed's sleek ride is in stark contrast to the dry, desolate setting. He notices mile marker 107, and abruptly pulls off the road. His Mercedes tears up dry ground on a path to nowhere. About two miles deep into the desert, the car pulls to a stop.

Color bleeds out from the skyline as the sun rises. Ed stares at the overstuffed envelope sitting safely on the passenger seat. Sigh. He rests his forehead on the steering wheel and closes his eyes.

BEGIN FLASHBACK:

INT. SMALL APARTMENT - NIGHT

Ed, slightly younger, stands in the kitchen wearing an untucked police officer's uniform. Confronting him is his wife, IVELISSE (mid 20s, pregnant, stressed).

IVELISSE

We can't live like this. I won't raise my daughter in this apartment.

Ed is speechless, defeated.

END FLASHBACK.

EXT. DESERT - DAWN

A white 2016 Lincoln Continental pulls up on the passenger side of Ed's car, and parks facing the same direction.

The drivers lower their adjacent windows.

TENSION.

RAM (40s, gaudy suit, unctuous) is the Lincoln's driver. His bodyguard sits stoically in the passenger seat. Two silhouettes are barely distinguishable in the back seat through the tinted windows.

RAM

(To Ed)

Eddyyy...the early bird, huh? You have something for me?

Ed picks up the envelope from the passenger seat, hesitates, and then tosses it through the window openings. It lands on Ram's lap. Ram passes it off to his passenger for counting and then turns back to Ed.

RAM

(patronizing)

Eddy boy, you did good. Get some rest. You look tired. Maybe I call you in a couple of days and we talk business again?

Ram smirks. Ed's hand hovers over his gun.

Out of sight, someone is let out from the Lincoln's back passenger side door.

RAM

(confidently)

I see you soon Eddy.

The Lincoln quickly makes a wide U-turn and kicks up a thin veil of dust that takes an eternity to settle. Left in its place is GRACE (6, precious, afraid) weeping without making a sound.

INT. ED'S MERCEDES, SUBURBAN STREET - DAY

SILENCE. Ed stares at Grace sitting safely on the passenger seat. Her eyes remain fixated on the floor mat in front of her. Sigh.

His car slows down in front of a pristine, white, colonial-style home. Ivelisse, waiting in agony, rushes out through the house's front doorway before the car comes to a complete stop. The brakes squeak. Grace bursts out of the car and meets her mother's embrace halfway up the cobblestone walkway.

Ed gets out and stands in the driver's side doorway facing the house. His car is a barrier between him and WHAT ONCE WAS.

Ivelisse clutches Grace in her arms. Her face projects a blend of anger and guilt. The new HUSBAND (30s, fit, avoiding eye contact) waits back in the house's front doorway.

Ed swallows his emotions.

EXT. CITY STREET - NIGHT

Hours have passed. Ed's eyes gaze lifelessly out of the windshield as his car meanders down the block. As he approaches his apartment building, it's clear to him that something is wrong. Several squad cars are parked and waiting.

The police lights paint his face red and blue intermittently.

Ed's hand hovers over his gun.

FADE OUT: