CUT TO BLACK:
SILENCE ON SOUND TRACK
This is the story of 90 minutes in
the life of one cellular phone.
EXT. CULVER CITY - DAY
A convertible moves through afternoon traffic with its top
down. It's a 1995 Chrysler Sebring, colored maroon.
INT. THE CAR
MUSIC is BLARING. It's vintage Tito Puente; "Cherry Pink
and Apple Blossom White."
THEO NOVAK is alone at the wheel. He's handsome, a sharp
dresser in his Imperio Armani suit and cashmere turtleneck.
He seems to be enjoying the ride until the cell phone lying
on the seat intrudes upon his privacy.
The caller I.D. on the cell phone reads "ANONYMOUS."
There's a woman's voice on the line -- a voice choked with
fear. Not any voice he expected to hear.
Thank God -- thank God I've got
Who is this?
You mustn't hang up.
WE NEVER CUT TO THE OTHER END OF THE LINE.
WE REMAIN WITH THEO AT ALL TIMES.
Do I know you?
I've been trying to get someone --
anyone. For hours ...