Alien: Resurrection Page #7

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What they have in common is the toughness, the wary eyes, leathery

skin. The cool readiness to kill. These guys are smugglers. A long

while ago, you'd have called them pirates

All eight of them emerge, one by one, looking around them. They file

past the silent, uniformed soldiers. The last one suddenly puts a hand

on Johner's jacket, stops him.

There is a bulge under it. A green sensor light on the back of the

soldier's glove turns red when he touches the bulge.

SOLDIER:

No projectile weaponry is allowed on board the vessel, sir.

Johner opens his jacket, shows what he's packing: a large thermos.

JOHNER:

Moonshine. My own. Much more dangerous.

SOLDIER:

Sorry, sir.

ELGYN (to Perez)

What, do you think we're going to hijack the vessel? All eight of us?

No, I think one of your a**hole crew is going to get drunk and put a

bullet through the hull. we are in space, Elgyn.

He enters from the antechamber, motions for the crew to follow him.

Vriess comes abreast of the soldier.

VRIESS:

Wanna check the chair?

The soldier makes no response, simply falls in behind Call, the last of

them.

CUT TO:
INT. ANTECHAMBER

The long neck that connects the bay to the body of the ship. The group

proceeds down it, the crew looking about them at the sterile grandeur.

ST JUST:

This place is really clean.

JOHNER (to a guard)

Hey. You got any whores on this vessel?

(the guard remains stonefaced)

Any loose women with bad eyesight?

PEREZ:

I think you'll find our accomodations somewhat spartan. Although the

cook sets a good-table.

JOHNER:
That ain't what I'm hungry for.

VRIESS (to Call)

What's the matter?

She is looking around her, somewhat tensely.

CALL:

I don't like army.

HILLARD:

Yeah, join the f***ing club.

CUT TO:
ANGLE: MONEY

A stack of bills dropped down on a desk, then another. They're green,

and identifiably money. But they're square, about the size of cocktail

napkins. The face on them is unfamiliar. Thousand dollar bills.

WIDER ANGLE:
INT. PEREZIS CHAMBERS LATER

A good sized suite, decorated in a sparse, military fashion. Perez is

behind his desk, the money sitting between him and Elgyn.

PEREZ:

This wasn't easy to come by.

ELGYN:

Neither was our cargo. You're not pleading poverty, are you?

PEREZ:

We're well funded. I mean the bills. There's not many that still deal

in coin.

ELGYN:

Just the ones that don't like their every transaction recorded. The

fringe element.

I guess that would include you, though, wouldn't it?

PEREZ:

Drink?

ELGYN:

Constantly. I'm guessing whatever you've got going here wasn't exactly

approved by congress.

Perez pours two whiskeys.

PEREZ (changing the subject)

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