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Santa Cruz
by James C. L'Angelle
WGA reg# 1394309
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FADE IN:
EXT. (Exterior scene) Capitola Esplanade, rain falling as tourists and locals come and go in and out of beachfront bars and
restaurants. Audio of television news REPORTER is heard from one of the bars and subtitle reads, "River's End Bar, Capitola"
INT. (Interior scene) The usual hodgepodge of tourists and locals populate the small crowded bar as the REPORTER on a television
screen behind the bar does the evening news.
REPORTER
The National Weather Service in San Jose has issued a severe weather alert for the rest of this week as the remnants of Typhoon
Hujo that hit Japan and caused several deaths and millions of dollars in damage is poised to move into the region in the next
few days. Local emergency relief officials are preparing for the worst and with all the recent rain, the San Lorenzo River
is already nearing flood levels and many areas along Front Street downtown and the Beach Flats area may well see some serious
flooding. The weather office is predicting heavier than usual rainfall this winter due to the "El Nino" effect that can already
be seen in the high number of Pacific hurricanes recently. We'll have more on this later in the broadcast from the weather
desk.
Screen goes to a commercial as conversation along the bar picks up.
DRUNK#1
Who gives a hoot about Front Street, just a bunch of hippies eating sushi.
DRUNK#2
Yeah, and maybe it'll wash all them immigrant gangs out of Beach Flats.
DRUNK#3 (to MIGUEL the bartender)
Hey Miguel, how's about another pitcher a beer over here.
DRUNK#3 slams an empty beer pitcher on the bar top and slides it MIGUEL's way, he grabs it and places it under a keg tap,
filling it to the top.
MIGUEL
You better hope the river don' go over, mon. All the illegals in them gangs will move over here to Capitola and git your woman..
DRUNKS laugh in unison as MIGUEL slides the full pitcher back to DRUNK#3. On the screen behind MIGUEL, REPORTER continues
with broadcast.
Unnoticed to all and sitting at a small table in a corner is TIM SOLDIER and HECTOR LOPEZ of the Sacramento
based Recon News Agency.
HECTOR
Too bad about all this rain, Tim. We haven't had a break since riding on that hijacked ro-ro full of Russian tanks off the
coast of Somalia and when Atila finally gives us a week off, we get soaked.
SOLDIER
Well, Hector, it won't do us much good to go south to L.A. This typhoon is going to drench the entire west coast, might as
well stick close to base and ride it out.
HECTOR and SOLDIER sip beer as REPORTER, on television screen, is handed a sheet of paper.
REPORTER
Here's some breaking news. It appears that Newton Murrow, a reporter for the local Santa Cruz Sentinel, was kidnapped a few
hours ago from his home in Aptos by a gang of several armed and masked men in a van. We have been reporting for the past month
that Murrow has been receiving threats from local "death squads" to quit his crusade against gang activity in Monterey and
Santa Cruz counties. The FBI has been called into the case. We will have updates on this important story as more information
is made available. The weather is next following this commercial announcement.
Screen goes to commercial as locals assume a more somber and sober tone in quiet discussion. SOLDIER's cell phone rings, he
fishes into a pocket and produces it.
SOLDIER (recognizing the number)
(to HECTOR) It's Picasso. (into phone) Hello, Atila, how are you? (pause) Hmmm...yes, I see. (pause) River's End, Capitola.
(pause) She coming over right now? (pause) O.K. alright, I'll see what we can do.
SOLDIER hangs up phone, stuffs it back into a pocket; gets up from table.
SOLDIER
Let's go outside for a cigarette, Hector.
HECTOR (getting up)
Damn, Soldier. Last time you said that was at Pat O'Brien's in New Orleans and we ended up in Mogadishu.
HECTOR and SOLDIER exit the River's End, fishing into their pockets for cigarettes as they pass through the doorway into the
rain outside. In an even more remote corner of the bar, a shadowy figure sits quietly observing all the activity and wears
a faded beret and a field jacket, probably a throwback to who knows what war that went wrong on some faraway continent.
EXT. Outside, the rain is falling in buckets and in the darkness, HECTOR and SOLDIER are puffing cigarettes at the entrance
to the River's End. Soon, a woman approaches and stops in front of them, she is SHANNON MURROW, the daughter of the kidnapped
reporter.
SHANNON
Tim Soldier? I recognize you from a recent story on Somali pirates. Friends of mine said they saw you over on the wharf yesterday.
SHANNON extends a wet hand to shake.
SOLDIER
And you must be Shannon Murrow, Newton's daughter. (SOLDIER shakes SHANNON's hand.) This is Hector Lopez, I never go anywhere
without Hector. (HECTOR shakes SHANNON's hand).
SHANNON
It's about my father, he's been...,
SOLDIER
Yes, our editor, Atila Picasso, has already given me some details and we just saw the latest news reports.
SHANNON
What nobody knows is that I was there when they took him, I left in a hurry. The local police and FBI don't know I was there
and I'm afraid they'll kill Dad if I go to them.
HECTOR
Miss Shannon, you could get into big trouble from the feds if you withhold information in a capital case like this.
SHANNON
My father was afraid for his life and was certain they would come after him. He told me if they did, do not go to the police,
find someone I could trust.
HECTOR
Tim, isn't there someplace we can talk about this where it's dry? This is like a scene in the movies or something.
SOLDIER
Yes, but not here.
SHANNON
I know a safe place.
They are about to leave when HECTOR spots someone in the window of the River's End observing them. It's the man in the faded
beret and field jacket.
HECTOR
Say, who's that creepy dude?
SHANNON
The locals just call him "Hoss". He blew into town a few months ago and hangs around the bars. Somebody told me he got into
a lot of trouble back in the late eighties for something he did down in Central America. Nobody believes it though, Santa
Cruz attracts all kinds on ex-whatevers from some forgotten revolution.
SOLDIER
I'm not so sure, the face is familiar. Hector, you better Google him when we get back to the place.
HOSS turns away from the window and returns to his table in the shadowy corner as SHANNON, HECTOR and SOLDIER disappear in
a hurry down a washed-out esplanade sidestreet.
Inside the River's End, on the television screen, the REPORTER turns to the WEATHERMAN for details on the approaching typhoon
as HOSS produces a cellphone from a field jacket pocket and punches in a number.
INT. Sushi restaurant on Front Street. HECTOR sits and stares at a plate full of raw fish and stringy cabbage sitting on a
table in front of him. SHANNON is busy eating as SOLDIER politely accompanies her.
SHANNON
So I do have a pretty good idea of where they've taken him, but something just doesn't add up. Their English was too good
to be Latino.
SOLDIER
You think it's a puton to discredit the Hispanic community?
SHANNON
These guys were too slick and I didn't see any tatoos. The van almost looked like a Hertz rental. Hector, you're not eating.
HECTOR
This sushi thing is really not my favorite. I'm not big on fish, cooked or raw.
SOLDIER
Will you show us where you think they went?
SHANNON
Oh I don't doubt he's been taken into Beach Flats, I just don't think it was a Latino gang that did it. You know, my Dad had
actually established a dialogue with some of the gang members there and also over on the west side. None of them felt threatened
by the articles he was printing in the newspaper, they all kind of fed on the notoriety. Problem is, it's the drug pushers
who don't like all the heat, the gangs just want to protect their turf.
SOLDIER
Maybe we ought to drop into the 'Hood and see what we can learn.
SHANNON
It's pretty risky going in there for any reason but I may be able to line it up.
As they talk, one of the local longhaired sushiheads comes over and interrupts.
SUSHIHEAD#1
Shannon, delighted to see you! I am crushed over the news of your Dad. Have you heard anything?
SHANNON
Nothing more than anybody else.
SUSHIHEAD#1
If you need help, just give me a call.
HECTOR (disgusted)
What are you going to do, buddy, throw some fish bones at them?
SUSHIHEAD#2 runs over to the table and announces loudly.
SUSHIHEAD#2
Hey everybody, I was just down at the trestle and a whole bunch of trees came rushing down the river and got hung up. The
river's coming up even faster!
All the excited SUSHIHEADS drop their forks and rush out into the rain in the direction of the trestle.
SHANNON
If that's the case, we better decide what we're going to do next, Beach Flats will be underwater in forty-eight hours.
SOLDIER
I will give you a call later, Shannon. Hector and I have some research and planning to do.
SOLDIER gets up, drops some cash on the table, HECTOR excuses himself.
HECTOR
Oh uh, sorry, Miss Shannon. I was really going to eat those fish.
**************************************
EXT. Trestle,drenching rain.. POLICE and EMERGENCY CREWS are busy holding back GAWKERS and RUBBERNECKERS from making their
way onto the railroad trestle as HECTOR and SOLDIER arrive. Flashing red and blue lights illuminate the scene and flashlights
and large emergency lights are everywhere.
COP#1 (pushing back RUBBERNECKER#1)
Alright, let's stay back off the trestle, it's just too dangerous right now to be out there.
RUBBERNECKER#1 (shouting)
I have a perfect right to go out there if I want, this is police brutality!! Hey look everybody, this Barney Fife is trying
to break my arm!!
HECTOR
What an idiot!
COP#1 is joined by two others and they escort RUBBERNECKER#1 over to a cruiser.
SOLDIER
Hector, let's see if we can lose this crowd and get a closer look from under the bridge at all that debris.
HECTOR and SOLDIER disappear into the heavy rain and slip down along the rushing river bank, working their way along the framework
of the trestle to where large trees, branches, tires and wood from washed out sheds have become lodged in the trestle pilings.
SOLDIER
What a pileup, the rate that river is coming up, the whole town will be underwater by morning.
HECTOR
I gotta agree with that rubbernecker idiot up on the bridge. Those Barneys ain't got a clue on how to take this out of here;
they got a couple little backhoes and some chains. It'll take a Navy Seal demolition team to blow this mess apart.
SOLDIER
That just ups the schedule for finding Murrow, the first place that river will go over is right into Beach Flats and from
the looks of those sandbaggers over there, they'll be swept out into the ocean along with the town.
HECTOR
That doesn't give us any time at all.
SOLDIER
Let's get the Hell out of here.
HECTOR and SOLDIER make their way back along the slippery pilings and up along the shoreline, soon to disapper into the rain
as they head back toward the flashing lights. In the darkness of the pilings, a match is lit and it's placed on a cigarette
in the mouth of HOSS, lost in the shadows and observing with interest as HECTOR and SOLDIER leave the scene. HOSS signals
and three shadowy figures appear, all wearing field jackets and each carrying duffel bags. HOSS inhales the cigarette, signals
to the TRIO, they head down into the twisted debris as the river washes up against the pilings.
EXT. Top of trestle, COPS and CREWS are busy fighting off RUBBERNECKERS, the bridge now shaking from the effect of debris
hammering the pilings below. SHANNON runs up to HECTOR and SOLDIER.
SHANNON
Thank the Lord I found you! I just got a lead a few minutes ago where they might be holding my father! We need to get over
there right away!
SOLDIER
Hold on, Shannon. Whoever it is that has your dad may well be armed and dangerous. I don't want you to go with us.
SHANNON
Then I'll go to those cops over there.
HECTOR grabs SHANNON as she heads toward the COPS.
HECTOR
Now hold on, Miss Shannon. Up til now I thought you had brains.
SOLDIER
Hector is right, you take cops into the 'Hood, your old man is as good as dead. We'll take you in, but first sight of trouble,
we take you out.
SHANNON
Fair enough. We have to meet Geraldo, in ten minutes.
******************************************
INT. The 'Hood, Beach Flats. Washed out streets are barely visible in the drenching rain as SHANNON, HECTOR and SOLDIER emerge
from an SUV in front of an innocuous enough looking old house on a sidestreet. They walk to the front door and knock, there
is no answer, they knock again, the lights go on and from the bushes several Latino GANGSTERS emerge, levelling small arms
and pistols.
GANGSTER#1
Say Homey, who you wan'?
SHANNON (stepping forward)
Geraldo told us to come over.
GANGSTER#2
Who you bring with you?
SHANNON
They are friends to help me get my father.
GANGSTER#3
They the Man,let's waste the Homeys.
GANGSTER#3 steps up close to HECTOR, levels an intimidating semi-automatic pistol in his face.
GANGSTER#3
Hey, don' I know you?
HECTOR
You'll find out quick who I am if you don't get that freakin' gun outta my face, punk!
GANGSTERS laugh in unison.
GANGSTER#1 (laughing)
He ain' no cop talkin' like dat.
Suddenly, a low-rider skids around the corner and comes to a stop in front of the house, HOSS gets out from the back of the
car, walks over to GANGSTER#3, motions for him to hand over the pistol. GANGSTER#3 looks at GANGSTER#1, he nods, GANGSTER#3
hands the pistol over. HOSS removes the round from the chamber, removes the clip, produces a small LED flashlight from a field-jacket
pocket and inspects the barrel. HOSS shoves the clip back into the pistol, chambers a round and flips the weapon back to
GANGSTER#3.
HOSS
Told you last week to clean that weapon, you still haven't done it. Don't get me pissed, Marco.
Door to house opens, GERALDO steps out into the rain.
HOSS
Hello, Geraldo, this lady come over to see you. Her name is Shannon, she wants to know who took her pop.
GERALDO steps up close to SOLDIER, looks him over.
GERALDO
You are the one they call "Soldier". I seen you on the TV in that ship hijack over in Somalia. How you ever get out of there?
SOLDIER
Luck, I suppose.
GERALDO
How you plan on getting out of here?
SOLDIER
With this lady's father. She was told you know where he is; now is that true are you just trying to upset her?
GERALDO walks over to SHANNON.
GERALDO
No, Shannon, lady. Yo' daddy come to me a couple of times, he's OK, tryin' to make peace here in the 'Hood.
We take you there, but they got lot of guns, we need help. No have enough Sureno.
HOSS flashes a signal with his LED flashlight, two more low-riders skid around the corner, come to a stop, rival GANGSTERS
emerge. SURENO GANGSTERS level weapons at NORTENO GANGSTERS.
HOSS
Here's your help. Where is the old man?
GERALDO (waves off SURENO GANGSTERS)
Cuello Rojo, a few blocks from here.
NORTENOS return to their low-riders, GANGSTER#1 hands GERALDO weapons, he hands a couple pistols to HECTOR and SOLDIER, HOSS
gets back into his low-rider and it drives away.
GERALDO
You can ride with us.
A Sureno low-rider pulls up, SHANNON, HECTOR and SOLDIER join GERALDO as a car door opens.
SHANNON
What's Cuello Rojo?
HECTOR
"Rednecks", the white boys got your dad.
SOLDIER
Probably dope-pushers out to discredit the gangs and take heat off them.
They get into the low-rider and it drives off with other vehicles into the rain.
EXT. Cuello Rojo 'hood. Low-riders pull to a stop and surround seemingly innocous house on rain-washed sidestreet. NORTENOS
and SURENOS surround house and when given a signal by leaders, they storm the house. Shooting and shouting erupt. SHANNON
hides behind a low-rider with HECTOR.
HECTOR
No matter what happens, Miss Shannon, you stay here with me.
The shooting stops as suddenly as it began, GERALDO emerges with reporter NEWTON MURROW, he's unharmed. NEWTON joins SHANNON,
they hug. SOLDIER catches up with GERALDO.
SOLDIER
Geraldo, we got a bigger problem right now, the river's going over the top any minute. We need you down at the shoreline.
GERALDO signals his men, they hop into low-riders and head toward the riverbank. NORTENOS follow them.
EXT. Riverbank. LOCALS frantically attempt to shore up failing sandbag wall as low-riders pull to a stop, NORTENOS and SURENOS
hop out, begin filling sandbags and stacking them on top of existing makeshift levee.
NEWTON, SHANNON join HECTOR and SOLDIER
NEWTON
It's not going to hold.
HECTOR (soaking wet and filling sandbag)
Then you will have been freed from kidnappers only to drown an hour later.
MURROW laughs, grabs a sandbag, stacks it on a wall. Nearby, SURENO and NORTENO GANGSTERS work together to shore up the sandbag
levee.
Suddenly, a series of loud explosions rock the shoreline and several large flashes are seen that light up the rain-filled
sky from the direction of the trestle.
NEWTON (running over to SOLDIER)
What the Hell?
NORTENOS and SURENOS exchange words of surprise in Spanish, some drop to the muddy riverbank as if under attack.
HECTOR (shouting, excited)
Hey everybody, over here, look!!
SHANNON runs over with the others.
SHANNON
The river, it's dropping!
SOLDIER
Somebody blew the debris out from under the trestle.
GERALDO
They done it.
NORTENOS and SURENOS let out a loud collective cheer, exchange a variety of handshakes and gang signs; pat each other on the
back. Some pull their weapons and spray the sky with bullets.
River recedes to a rather benign but still threatening level.
NEWTON
Somebody knew how to take out that logjam.
HECTOR
One thing for certain. It wasn't them Barneys.
SHANNON
Then who?
SOLDIER
I think I know.
**************************************
INT. Rivers End Bar, Capitola. A couple nights later, the storm is gone as SHANNON sits with HECTOR and SOLDIER at a small
table. The bar has the usual locals and MIGUEL is pouring pitchers, the news is on the TV.
REPORTER (on TV screen)
Reporter Newton Murrow still refuses to divulge just how he was freed from his captors and local FBI officials are threatening
him with charges that it was all just a hoax to get publicity for his gang related articles in the newspaper. In a related
matter, police and federal investigators are asking the public to help them ascertain the whereabouts of a colorful local
indigent known only as "Hoss" in connection to the dynamiting of the debris at the trestle two days ago that allowed the river
to drop, preventing flooding of most of downtown Santa Cruz. Demolitions experts are baffled on how the debris was blown without
the slightest damage to the trestle structure. Anybody with information to the whereabouts of "Hoss", please contact local
authorities. Now this from our sponser.
TV goes to a commercial break as conversation begins at bar.
DRUNK#1
They'll never find Hoss, he went up with the dynamite!!
DRUNKS laugh.
DRUNK#2
The sharks got him.
DRUNKS laugh as MIGUEL pours another pitcher, at the table, SHANNON sips on a beer.
SHANNON
Wonder what happened to him?
HECTOR
One thing for certain, he didn't go up with the blast.
SOLDIER
I think I know where he is, Shannon, you got a passport?
SHANNON gives SOLDIER a curious look.
***********************************************
EXT. Quepos, Costa Rica, El Avion Bar. SUV pulls to a stop, SHANNON, HECTOR and SOLDIER emerge from it and stand in front
of a C-123 Fairchild aircraft that has been transformed into a bar.
SHANNON
Soldier, the suspense is killing me! What on Earth is this all about, and what is this, this airplane doing sitting on top
of this hill?
HECTOR
This is the "El Avion Bar". That airplane was one of two that's been around here for many years.
SHANNON
One of two, you mean there's another El Avion Bar somewhere?
SOLDIER
No, the other plane got shot down over Nicaragua in 1986 during a clandestine CIA flight.
HECTOR
Only one person made it out alive from that flight, he's probably in there right now.
INT. El Avion Bar, Dim, smoky, full of locals. In one corner, several sultry LADIES surrond a table. SHANNON is led to the
table by HECTOR and SOLDIER, they excuse their way around the LADIES and sitting at the table, smoking a cigarette, wearing
a field-jacket, is...HOSS.
SHANNON (shocked)
Hoss!! But how..,,
HOSS
Hello, Miss Shannon. I am honored by your presence here.
SHANNON (disbelief)
But how, who.., who are you?
SOLDIER
Miss Shannon Murrow, meet Eugene Hasenfus.
HECTOR
The only survivor of that ill-fated CIA flight back in 1986.
SHANNON feels dizzy, she has to sit down.
HASENFUS
Soldier, you and Hector here would have down well back in the eighties on those secret missions. I knew it was just a matter
of time before you figured out who blew the trestle debris and where to find me.
SOLDIER
Well one thing for certain.
HASENFUS
What's that?
HECTOR (sipping a drink)
It wasn't them Barneys.
They all laugh as LADIES surround table, cigarette smoke chokes the air.
EXT. El Avion Bar. Music can be heard as the sun settles on the horizon and night arrives as a few patchy El Nino remnant
clouds invite darkness.
THE END//12/25/09
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