formatted for web, not original screenplay format
INT. BLACK FERRARI – DAY
Liz sits behind the wheel, Katrina in the passenger’s seat. They watch the situation through the windows of the vehicle.
Reminds me of Berlin.
Liz takes out a semi-automatic handgun.
Katrina snatches the handgun from Liz. She ejects the magazine from it and the round in the chamber.
Shooting through a train station then leaping on the back of an actual train, all to hide in a damp basement for three weeks due to the heat of the authorities.
Katrina tosses the three items in the tiny backseat. She grabs a tranquilizer gun from behind the seat, checks it.
It was shit plan then, and still a shit failure of a job.
Katrina looks over an Mp5 sub-machine gun, fully loaded.
One failure Kat, out of how many beautiful jobs. Sparkling objects taken with precision and —
A fucking goddamn bike ride. Six years old, maybe eight. One those precision memories you speak about?
A tear rolls down Katrina’s cheek. Katrina pounds her fist against the side of the door.
A lime green Huffy with super hero license plate on the back. His shirt with the little tow truck on it.
Katrina looks at Liz with wet cheeks. Liz takes Katrina by the hand.
Stop this pathetic attitude though, its not us. There’s not gonna be any killing. Best behavior, model citizens.
Katrina wipes her eyes with her hand.
Unless their a real dick and deserve it, then maybe a bullet to the head wouldn’t be a bad idea.
Katrina stiffens her lip.
Okay. Okay. No one ever died from a leg wound…
Liz throws the car in drive