Before they can get their bearings, Jim leaps up on the
load of barrels, two six-guns ready.
The men get up, slowly realizing it's just one guy.
What the hell is this?
This? This is where you surrender.
Tense standoff. Suddenly two of the men draw! Jim FIRES
dropping the first before he can even get off a shot.
Jim dives to one side to avoid the second man's shot,
FIRING as he goes. It's fast, furious.
Jim drills the second man, who spins in agony, colliding
with Larson and Slim. A third man draws and fires.
Bullets ripping into the wagon around him, Jim coolly
nails the fool -- leg, chest, head. The guy drops.
The remaining men throw up their hands.
We're done! We're done!
Jim rises slowly, pistols poised, his eyes darting. The
bad guys don't move. They know this guy can go off at
any time. But now there's a weird sound. CREAKING and
CRACKING from below. Just as Jim glances down --
The floor collapses beneath the weight of the safe and
the wagons! With a ROAR, it all plummets into the
INT. WAREHOUSE LOWER FLOOR - NIGHT
Jim lies dazed in the wagon, its wheels pancaked under
it. The massive safe has just missed crushing him. A
few barrels have broken open under him. In the darkness
whatever has spilled out feels like sand. Jim gets to
his knees, realizing -- he's lost his guns in the stuff.
Then he notices the labels on the barrels -- "TITAN
BLASTING POWDER." He's knee-deep in explosives. As he
frantically digs in the powder, he hears from above:
Get him! Shoot the bastard!