EXTRACT FROM 'THE GUILTY FEW'
by Peter Devonald
COPYRIGHT 2004-2009: Contact pdevonald@hotmail.com for more details

            FADE IN:



            INT. HUGE EMPTY WAREHOUSE - DAY

            KHRISTOV smokes, paces in front of his car. He is twenty
            nine, wears a suit but isn't comfortable in it, looks
            disheveled and tired. 

            Khristov looks towards the entrance of the warehouse. A large
            black car enters. Khristov moves slightly towards it. 

            The car drives up slowly and stops near Khristov. 

            BODYGUARD ONE and BODYGUARD TWO come out of the car first,
            followed by MCCRAW - the gang leader. Mccraw is in his late
            thirties, hard faced and rough looking. He stares at Khristov
            disdainfully.

                                MCCRAW
                      You came alone?

                                KHRISTOV
                      I always do business alone.

                                MCCRAW
                      You have the money?

                                KHRISTOV
                      Is she all right?

                                MCCRAW
                      Better than all right. 

            Mccraw licks his lips. He snaps his fingers together. 

            Bodyguard One takes out a thick knot of plaited hair and
            throws it at Khristov, who catches it. 

            Khristov's hands touch it lovingly. Mccraw watches him.

                                MCCRAW
                      You have the money? 

            Khristov nods.

                                MCCRAW
                      You know the trade off point. You know
                      the trade.

                                KHRISTOV
                      Everything is very clear.

                                MCCRAW
                      We will contact you with the time once
                      the money has been checked. Now. Pass the
                      case. 

            Khristov hesitates.

                                MCCRAW
                      If you want the goods, you pay.

            Khristov grimaces. He throws the case over to Mccraw.

                                MCCRAW
                      And get some sleep. You look a wreck.

            Mccraw goes to leave.

                                KHRISTOV
                      Double cross me... 

            Mccraw turns back to him.

                                KHRISTOV
                      There is no limit to my influence.

            They get eye contact. 

            Mccraw turns away. 

            Mccraw, Bodyguard One and Bodyguard Two get in the car and
            drive off. 

            Khristov stares at them, then looks at the plait of hair in
            his hand.



            INT. KHRISTOV'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

            Khristov waits by the phone. Paces. Stops. Looks at the
            phone. 

            He makes himself a whiskey. Swigs it down. Makes himself
            another. 

            He sees the photo of the YOUNG GIRL. 

            He picks up the frame and can't take his eyes off it. There's
            something beautiful about her, but she's young, maybe only
            ten.



            EXT. HILL - DAY (FLASHBACK)

            A bright sunny day. 

            Young Girl skips down a hill, happy.



            INT. KHRISTOV'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

            Tears fill Khristov's eyes. He fights them back.



            EXT. HILL - DAY (FLASHBACK)

            The sun is very bright. 

            Young Girl rolls down the hill, giggling. 

            A phone rings in the distance.



            INT. KHRISTOV'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

            The phone rings. 

            Khristov jumps, drops the photo frame of Young Girl, turns
            sharply, picks up the phone.

                                KHRISTOV
                          (on phone)
                      Yep. Khristov here... I'll be there. 

            Khristov puts the phone down.

            He goes to pick up the photo, but the glass has shattered. He
            picks it up anyway, cutting his hand. 

            The blood smudges the photo.



            EXT. CITY STREETS - NIGHT

            Fast, frantic music plays from the car stereo. 

            Khristov drives fast.



            KHRISTOV'S CAR

            Sweat pours down Khristov's forehead and down his face. 

            He wipes the sweat off as he drives, fast.



            EXT. QUIET ROAD - NIGHT

            Khristov turns left, but the street is closed. POLICE and
            BYSTANDERS mill around. 

            Blue flashing lights pulsate on and off.



            KHRISTOV'S CAR

            Khristov looks anxiously around. The blue lights pulsate.

            Khristov stops the car, slams his hands in desperation on the
            steering wheel. He looks around, panicking. 

            Bystanders all around. 

            Khristov quickly reverses the car down the road and stops.



            QUIET ROAD

            Khristov gets out of the car and walks around the CROWD OF
            PEOPLE who watch the events in the distance. 

                                KHRISTOV
                      What's happened? 

            Khristov goes up to another person.

                                KHRISTOV
                      Does anyone know what happened?

            No reply. 

            Khristov looks toward the building and makes out the shape of
            a couple of dead people being stretchered away. 

            The blanket over them falls over to reveal a face... It's
            Mccraw! 

            Khristov tries to keep his cool, but he panics, nervously
            lights a cigarette. 

            He feels into his pocket and touches the knot of hair. He
            brings it out of his pocket to check.

                                KHRISTOV
                          (under his breath)
                      Shit.

            He takes a drag on his cigarette, turns sharply, stumbles
            hurriedly away.



            INT. KHRISTOV'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

            Khristov paces, panics, his face streaked with tears. The
            room is only lit by street lights which flitter in from
            outside. 

            Khristov smokes, but after only a few drags snuffs the
            cigarette out in the ashtray in the center of the table. The
            ashtray is full of butt-ends. 

            Khristov paces, puts on the TV, blankly watches. He holds the
            remote control and randomly changes channel.



            ON SCREEN

            A bad comedy.

            A violent cartoon animation.

            FEMALE NEWSREADER speaks straight to camera.

                                FEMALE NEWSREADER
                      Gang land killings, drug busts and brutal
                      slaying's. Just another normal day in our
                      fine city. Justin Hayward reports.

            Shots of the crime scene. Blood covers a wall. People are put
            into body-bags.

                                HAYWARD (V.O)
                      Killings are nothing new - not in these
                      increasingly depraved days of high crime
                      and low hope. But these killings are
                      particularly horrific. Three men have
                      been executed - gang land style. And a
                      young girl was sexually abused, then
                      slaughtered. 

            HAYWARD comes on screen. He's thirty two with a sleazy but
            'clean' image. He has slicked back hair and a look of
            seriousness which is entirely fake.

                                HAYWARD
                      The guilty must be found and prosecuted.

            A wide angled shot shows Khristov darting around behind a
            group of people watching the body-bags being carried out.



            KHRISTOV'S APARTMENT

            Khristov sees himself on screen. He stares in horror.



            ON SCREEN

            Shots of the crime scene, but Khristov only sees himself -
            over and over again - in slow motion and detailed repeat on
            screen.

                                HAYWARD (V.O)
                      The guilty must be found and prosecuted.
                      The guilty must be found and prosecuted.
                      The guilty must be found and prosecuted.



            KHRISTOV'S APARTMENT

            Khristov, in shock, lights a cigarette, but he's shaking.



            ON SCREEN

            Hayward talks straight to camera.

                                HAYWARD
                      The police have several leads. They
                      believe that this brutal massacre was the
                      work of a lone gunman. They need help
                      from anyone who recognizes this bag. 

            INSERT: The bag Khristov gave the money in.

                                HAYWARD
                      There's a free police hot line.

            Phone number shown on screen.

                                HAYWARD
                      And rewards will be given. Let's make the
                      guilty pay. Otherwise, no one is safe in
                      this city.

            Hayward smiles, exudes charm and relaxation.

                                HAYWARD
                      This is Justin Hayward reporting.

            Female Newsreader turns from the live video feed to camera.

                                FEMALE NEWSREADER
                      Thanks Justin. 

            Female Newsreader turns back towards the live feed.

                                FEMALE NEWSREADER
                      Can I just say you're looking very good.
                      New hair cut?

            In the live feed, Hayward smiles.



            KHRISTOV'S APARTMENT

            Khristov pushes mute on the remote control. The TV plays in
            mute in the background. 

            Khristov buries his head in his hands. 

            He rises. Paces. 

            Sits down. Stands. Paces. 

            Gets a metal bucket, puts it in the center of the room. 

            Finds matches, tosses these beside the bucket. 

            Goes to the drawer, brings out a bundle of letters, photos,
            certificates. 

            Gets some newspaper, sets light to them. Throws them into the
            metal bucket. Slumps beside the bucket and the fire. 

            The flames and the television are the only light in the room. 

            Khristov throws in photographs of Young Girl into the flames. 

            He stares at them as they catch light and shrivel into
            nothing. 

            He picks up letters, reads a few lines, throws them in the
            fire as well.

            He throws in the bunch of hair. It crackles as it burns. 

            He throws more photos in, shriveling as they burn.

            He picks up the framed photograph. Stares at it. Tears roll
            down his cheeks.



            INT. HOUSE - DAY (FLASHBACK)

            Young Girl laughs. She goes up to Khristov and hugs him.

            Khristov looks younger. 

            They hug for a moment too long.



            INT. KHRISTOV'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

            Khristov wipes the tears from his eyes. 

            The fire alarm goes off. 

            Khristov jumps.

                                KHRISTOV
                      Shit.

            Khristov looks desperately around. He can burn the photos and
            risk firemen coming in, or he can put the fire out and get
            out. He hesitates. 

            Already he hears PEOPLE RUNNING DOWN THE STAIRS. 

            He puts the bucket in the sink, pours water into it and puts
            out the fire. 

            He puts the bucket down and runs out the apartment.



            EXT. KHRISTOV'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

            The fire engine is there. EVERYONE loiters around. The media
            have turned up. Hayward is there with a FILM CREW. 

            Khristov runs out of the building. 

            Hayward moves towards the apartment. He stops and gets eye
            contact with Khristov. 

            Hayward double takes. 

            Khristov turns away awkwardly.