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EXT. COLUMBUS, OHIO - DAY

The state capital of Ohio. It's an impressive building for

a city this size.

SUPERTITLE:
COLUMBUS, OHIO - STATE CAPITAL

INT. OHIO STATE SUPREME COURT - DAY

In chambers striving for august, JUSTICES listen to a lawyer

MR. RODMAN, argue his case before the highest court in Ohio.

Mr. Rodman enjoys the sound of his own voice.

MR. RODMAN

This informant, paid by the police,

using taxpayers dollars to continue

his felony drug habit, was the link

which allowed police to raid a private

farm. A working farm. A farm where

honest Americans make their living.

One particular justice, ROBERT WAKEFIELD, younger than the

others, is clearly bemused by this performance.

MR. RODMAN

The government, in its haste, has

employed an army of criminals whose

allegiance to the truth is, at

best, questionable --

Judge Wakefield interrupts --

ROBERT:

Mr. Rodman...it's too bad your client

didn't show as much sense in choosing

what he planted as he did in choosing

his attorney...

A polite chuckle from the justices --

ROBERT:

Lately the only variation I'm hearing

in your argument is the name of the

client. And you can sit there all

day arguing the ins and outs of

Illinois v. Gates, but you aren't

going to convince me that this country

has not sanctioned the use of

anonymous informants.

(beat)

Furthermore, there is no sacred

protection of property rights in the

United Sates. When you make the

decision to have marijuana on your

farm, whether it's one joint or an

acre of plants, your property can be

seized and your property can be sold.

MR. RODMAN

I'm sorry the court finds my argument

repetitious.

ROBERT:

Mr. Rodman, may I offer a piece of

advice? The next time you argue

this point before this court,

regardless of my whereabouts, I

recommend you have something up your

sleeve other than your arm.

INT. ROBERT'S CHAMBERS - DAY

The office is marble and dark wood. A young CLERK, black,

29, enters carrying an oddly-shaped gift. They both look at

it.

CLERK:

What do you think it is?

ROBERT:

Depends who it's from.

CLERK:

(reading the card)

Your friends at Warren, Putnam and

Hudson.

ROBERT:

You can learn a lot about somebody

from this stuff. Three categories:

you like me, you hate me, you want

something from me.

(re:
the elaborate

box)

Definitely third category.

CLERK:

What would a law firm want from the

new drug Czar?

ROBERT:

Depends on the state.

CLERK:

(checks)

Arizona.

ROBERT:

Medicinal marijuana initiative.

(beat)

Or am I being cynical?

They both laugh. Robert reaches up and pulls a bottle of

Scotch from a shelf. He pours a couple of fingers in two

glasses.

CLERK:

Maybe there's a book in it.

The clerk takes one of the glasses.

ROBERT:

Not by me.

They toast and drink.

EXT. COURTHOUSE - DAY

Robert exits, trailed by a small group of reporters. He

gets into a car being driven by two security TYPES.

INT. AIRPLANE - DAY

Robert sits in a business class window seat.

INT. HOTEL ROOM - NIGHT

An expensive hotel. Robert Wakefield stands at the window,

looking at the view of our nation's capital.

SUPERTITLE:
WASHINGTON D.C.

ON THE TABLE:

The remnants of a meal. It was a steak and a small caesar

salad. The wine glass is half-empty.

ANOTHER ANGLE ON ROBERT

In front of the mirror now, trying on a dark, tasteful jacket.

CLOSER:

On Robert in the same position, only now we are in HIS HOME.

It's daytime, and his wife BARBARA is helping him into this

same jacket. As her hands dust the lint off his shoulders

WE MATCH CUT TO:

ROBERT:

In the hotel rooms, making the same motions. Satisfied, he

straightens, then turns to look at himself.

OMITTED:

ANGLE ON ROBERT:

Back at the hotel room window now. Reaches to the table and

lifts the wine glass.

CUT TO:

EXT. DIRT ROAD - DAY

This is the middle of nowhere. Scrub cactus and dust and a

heartless sun.

SUPERTITLE:
MEXICO - TWENTY MILES SOUTHWEST OF TIJUANA.

A broken down-looking Police Sedan is parked on the side of

the road. It seems abandoned except there are TWO MEN inside.

INT. POLICE SEDAN - DAY

Two Mexican men, State Police officers, JAVIER RODRIGUEZ,

30's, and MANUEL "MANOLO" SANCHEZ, 20's, wearing jeans, knock-

off Polo shirts, and cowboy boots, wait patiently in the

car.

JAVIER:

I had that dream again.

A long pause.

MANOLO:

Which one?

Another long pause.

JAVIER:

Where my mother's suffocating.

They continue to wait until there is the sound of a JET

ENGINE. It grows LOUDER as it approaches.

EXT. THE POLICE SEDAN - DAY

The shadow of a large plane crosses the desert floor. Then,

an old DC-3 flies fifty feet above the Police Sedan.

INT. POLICE SEDAN - DAY

They watch the plane disappear over a small rise in the

desert. They look at each other and wait some more.

EXT. MEXICAN DESERT - LATER

From the direction of the landing strip, a moving van lumbers

down the road, two TEENAGERS in the cab.

INT. POLICE SEDAN - DAY

Javi and Manolo watch the moving van approach. Javi reaches

under the seat and picks up a bubble flasher. He rolls down

the window and plants it on the roof. He flips the switch.

Nothing happens. He jiggles the wire and the siren BURPS

and the light flashes. Manolo and Javi step from the car,

smiling.

EXT. MEXICAN DESERT - DAY

The moving van slows to a stop. Javi approaches. The DRIVER

unhurriedly rolls down the window.

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