Miami

INT. JORDAN'S CAR -- MORNING

Jordan drives around downtown Miami, picking up his cell phone to call Miguel around 8:00 AM.

JORDAN
Yo, where are you?

MIGUEL
I’m at the subway across from the Hilton. Get a room and come over, and we’ll drive over together.

JORDAN
I’ll be there.

* * *

INT. MIAMI HILTON -- MOMENTS LATER

Jordan walks into the Miami Hilton, checks in for a deluxe room, and has the bellhop take his bags upstairs. He hands the bellhop a $50 bill.

HILTON ATTENDANT
I'm sorry, sir, we don't take cash. Only credit cards and checks.

JORDAN
What if I don’t have either?

HILTON ATTENDANT
Then you won’t be able to stay at the Miami Hilton.

JORDAN
Fine, here. (motions to the bellhop)

Jordan reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his wallet. Thumbing through his cards, he finds a Visa card at the back that reads "Dallas Cruz," not Jordan Amano, as if it were his card.

HILTON ATTENDANT
Thank you very much, Mr. Cruz. Here are your keys. It’s suite A2, on the top floor.

JORDAN
Thank you.

Jordan leaves the Hilton and runs across the street to the Subway sandwich shop.

* * *

INT. MIAMI SUBWAY -- MOMENTS LATER

JORDAN
Hey man, morning...

MIGUEL
Hey, okay... the shipment is there now. Let’s go over and meet and greet. We’ll come back later and move the shipment.

JORDAN
Doesn't this sound sketchy?

MIGUEL
It does, but there seems to be a leak, and we’re heavily watched by the cops right now. Better to break up the deal.

JORDAN
Whatever you say...

MIGUEL
Okay, let's go.

Jordan walks out the door with Miguel following. They drive down to the dock together in Jordan’s car. As they walk to the car, Miguel looks over at Jordan.

MIGUEL (CONT'D)
Fuck man, what happened to your car? That trouble you got into earlier?

JORDAN
Different trouble...

MIGUEL
You need a new career, ese...

JORDAN
Shit, you might be right...

* * *

EXT. MIAMI DOCK -- MOMENTS LATER

Jordan and Miguel get out of the car. Miguel motions for Jordan to come over to him at the front of the vehicle.

MIGUEL
Hey, let me do the talking, and don’t speak unless spoken to. These people get nervous around newcomers and will kill you if you smell like 5.0. So just keep it down, okay?

JORDAN
Yeah, I’m cool.

* * *

INT. DOCKED NAUTICAL RIG -- MOMENTS LATER

As they walk in, ship security stops them.

SHIP SECURITY
Hey, Miguel... who the fuck is this?

MIGUEL
Remember when I told you I was getting out of the game? This is my best customer, and I figured I’d have him meet the family.

SHIP SECURITY
You know he’s not Mexican, right?

MIGUEL
Really? Fuck man... why didn’t you tell me you were Mexican, Jordan?

JORDAN
Must’ve slipped my mind.

SHIP SECURITY
Miguel, tell your friend to shut the fuck up, or you’re probably gonna get him killed over this shit.

MIGUEL
He’s cool, and otherwise... I have to get him to go elsewhere, and he buys a good bit...

SHIP SECURITY
Yeah, well if you vouch for him... he’s in. If he brings anything down... you’re both dead.

MIGUEL
Whatever...

SHIP SECURITY
Mi casa, su casa... (smiles at Jordan)

Jordan doesn’t smile back and follows Miguel in.

MIGUEL
Okay, just wait here... let me talk to them for a second. Let them see you, and don’t look suspicious.

JORDAN
Do I naturally look suspicious?

MIGUEL
Yes, really you do... look them in the eyes when you talk... don’t veer off.

JORDAN
Okay.

MIGUEL
I’ll be right back.

Miguel walks through the door, leaving Jordan standing silently as he watches Miguel interact with his dealers through the glass. The dealers look at him, pull out their guns, and motion for Jordan to come in. He walks into the "Dealing Room."

* * *

INT. DEALING ROOM ON MIAMI DOCKED NAUTICAL RIG -- CONTINUOUS

VASQUEZ
Good morning, Jordan. I hear that Miguel is leaving and that we’ll be dealing with you personally from now on.

JORDAN
Yes, sir.

VASQUEZ
Good, you know your manners; your mother taught you well. Mannerless fucks rarely get this far. I will accommodate you on an "I call you only" basis. If you ever call me back, I will kill you. If you ever show up late, I will kill you. If you show up early or carry anything electronic... even just a CD player, I will kill you. Do you understand?

JORDAN
Yes, sir.

VASQUEZ
Good. Then we have an understanding. I’ll see you tonight at 3 AM sharp. I suggest you do not show up late.

JORDAN
Yes, sir.

VASQUEZ
Thank you; you can leave now.

Miguel grabs Jordan by the shoulder as they walk out of the room.

MIGUEL
You were great... that’s it. You’re on your own now.

JORDAN
Jesus, this is pretty fucking scary.

MIGUEL
Yeah, I suggest you don’t EVER piss him off. Not even once.

JORDAN
Agreed.

As they walk toward the off-ramp of the boat, they see the ship security guard they spoke with before fall to the ground as Dade County Police pour into the front of the boat.

As the officers run in, they see Miguel and Jordan standing there.

DADE COUNTY POLICE OFFICER
Put your fucking hands up! Now! Put your hands behind your head and kneel to the floor, and an officer will read you your rights!

An officer approaches Miguel and Jordan in the hall, putting their hands behind their heads and kneeling. Vasquez and his men storm out the door behind them, and Miguel and Jordan lay belly-down in the hallway between the Dade County police and the Dominican drug dealers.

DADE COUNTY POLICE OFFICER (CONT'D)
Put down your fucking guns and get the fuck down!

VASQUEZ
Fuck you! Put your fucking guns down and get off this fucking boat, or you all fucking die.

Vasquez speaks slowly and sternly, not flinching or appearing afraid. He evaluates the situation.

DADE COUNTY POLICE OFFICER
We will not hesitate to fire... this is your last warning!

VASQUEZ
This is your last warning. Put your guns down, or you all fucking die right here.

DADE COUNTY POLICE OFFICER
Last chance! Put them down now!

VASQUEZ
Fuck you!

Vasquez fires over Miguel and Jordan, dropping the first officer. An all-out war erupts, with Miguel and Jordan holding as flat as possible to the floor with bullets flying overhead.

JORDAN
Miguel! Roll to the left!

Miguel and Jordan quickly roll left during the firefight, then get up and run down the hall, bursting through doors in an attempt to escape the boat.

MIGUEL
Hey! Keep going; we’ll get to the end of the boat and jump off the back.

Two police officers chase after them, and Miguel and Jordan burst through the ship's kitchen and into the main warehouse room. Miguel stops and looks over at Jordan.

MIGUEL (CONT'D)
Hey, this is where they store the shit... grab a handful.

JORDAN
Are you fucking crazy? Let’s get the fuck out of here...

MIGUEL
Just grab some and tuck it... then I’ll show you the back of the boat. Is your gun loaded?

JORDAN
No firing pin...

MIGUEL
You carry a useless gun? What the fuck! Goddammit... here.

Miguel hands Jordan one of the two guns he has tucked in his pants.

MIGUEL (CONT'D)
Leave that useless piece of shit and take this. Now help me grab some of these.

Jordan puts his gun down and grabs a stack of sheets, stuffing them down his backside. Miguel grabs over 50 books in his arms.

MIGUEL (CONT'D)
Here’s some for the front...

JORDAN
I’ve got what I need; now let’s get the fuck out of here.

MIGUEL
I’m almost done... okay... let’s go.

As Miguel walks out, a cop shoots him in the head. Jordan stands behind him, watching the 50 or so books spill across the floor.

JORDAN
Fuck!

Jordan talks to himself, looking at all the books.

JORDAN (CONT'D)
Fuck man, you don’t need them... you got yours... you don’t need those... get the fuck out of here... move, J, move!

Jordan rushes around Miguel's side, and the cop fires two more shots at Jordan