The Hostage – A Short Film
SCENE: Inside a jewellers in a small, Southern Californian town. A man, the THIEF, is ransacking the shelves. He wears a t-shirt and a large, bulky vest, possibly body-armour. He has on jeans and a pair of Timberland boots. He has a large, silver hand-gun held in his right hand. He is using it to smash the glass on cabinet displays when necessary, but for the most part is keeping it pointed at the other man lying face down on the floor in the middle of the room.
The other man is the assistant manager of the jewellery store, now a HOSTAGE, and is dressed casually in a jacket and jeans. He is terrified, and can't take his eyes off the gun being waved at him. His thoughts are on escape, and, in the increasingly-long periods of time when the thief’s attention is on ransacking the store, he is gradually weighing his chances of escape.
Suddenly he sees what he thinks is an opportunity and makes a break for the door. He only makes it half way before the THIEF sees him, lunges, grabs him and hurls him back to the floor up against the wall, the muzzle of the gun pressed hard against his head.
THIEF: Did I say fucking MOVE, man?! Well did I?! STAY...THE FUCK... DOWN! I’ll fucking KILL YOU!
The hostage is stunned, and lies there whimpering while the THIEF goes back to ransacking.
There is a harsh burst of siren from outside the store, and the darkness is lit by the red and blue lights of a patrol car.
THIEF: Ah shit... Come here!
Using the hostage as a shield, the THIEF looks out the store window, and checks his escape options.
HOSTAGE: "Listen, it's not my store, just take what you want and go out the back, you can get away."
THIEF: "Love to, dude, but they've got the back covered too. Any more bright ideas?"
HOSTAGE: "No, I don't know, look... please, just d-"
COP: You in the store, put down your weapon!
THIEF (shouting): “Just back off man! I’ve got a hostage in here!
COP: Ok… let’s just stay cool. Tell me what you want.
The THIEF pushes the HOSTAGE down against the wall, and squats with his back to the ledge of the front window display, out of sight of the COP outside, but where he can see the whole of the store and the hostage slumped against the wall. He breathes deeply. He is clearly considering his options.
THIEF (to HOSTAGE): "Look dude, don't worry, ok? I'm not gonna shoot you, I promise. I'm not a bad guy, I'm just... I'm just desperate for the money, y'know? I've got kids, I can't afford to feed them. I'm sorry, I didn't know you'd be in here.
HOSTAGE: I…I've got children of my own. Please don't hurt me.
THIEF: "What's your name?"
HOSTAGE: "Brian"
THIEF: "Well Brian, relax. I'm gonna try and get out of here, but I'm gonna do it without hurting you. If I start shouting or getting aggressive, I'm just fucking with the cops, ok? You'll be alright. We're both fathers, man, I hope you can understand me. My names Joaquin, by the way."
BRIAN: "As in… Phoenix?"
JOAQUIN: "Yeah, only I got all the looks and talent."
There is nervous laughter that seems to dispel some of the tension in the room.
JOAQUIN: "Ok hold on, I'm gonna try and get a car out of these fuckers."
JOAQUIN (shouting): “I want a car, a fast one. And no tails!
BRIAN: "Hey…you know, if you head East out of town for a mile or two and turn right onto the back roads, you'll be heading straight for the border. I reckon you've got a chance of reaching it that way.
JOAQUIN: "Ok… cool. Thanks man."
There is a screech of tires from outside the store. JOAQUIN peers over the ledge and out of the window behind him.
JOAQUIN: "Oh crap, that fucker called in SWAT. Stay calm, I'm gonna play the crazy guy for a bit."
JOAQUIN (shouting): “What the fuck was that, is that a SWAT van? Fucking SWAT, man! Tell them to get out of here, or I’ll blow this fucker’s head off, I swear I will!”
COP: “Please stay calm, sir! It’s just procedure! There’s not going to be any shooting!
JOAQUIN: "Well at least he's got that right. This thing isn't even loaded."
BRIAN: "You're kidding me! You held up a store with an empty gun??"
JOAQUIN: "I told you, dude, I'm not that kind of guy! The only people you're in danger from are those motherfuckers outside. Hey, listen man, take this. I don't want you on my conscience."
BRIAN: "What? But... I've never worn one of these before!"
JOAQUIN: "Just put it on. Take your jacket off first though, or it'll pinch under your arms. Hey, is that tailor-made? You look good man!"
BRIAN: "Wal-mart actually"
JOAQUIN: "No way! Can I try it on? I might have to get one myself"
BRIAN: "Yeah, sure thing."
JOAQUIN: "Hey, looking good, eh?"
He glances at his watch.
JOAQUIN: (shouting): “Hey! I said I want a car! Don’t make me do this! I’ll put his brains all over the wall!”
COP: “Your car is on the way sir! It’s important that nobody gets hurt. We can work this out as long as nobody gets hurt, and we all stay calm!”
JOAQUIN: “Stay calm my ass!”
He reaches up over the window display, aims briefly, and fires. There is a roar as the gun goes off, and the window in front of him shatters.
BRIAN: "Fuck! Fuck…! I thought you said it wasn't loaded!"
JOAQUIN (shouting): “The next bullet’s got this guy’s name on it, I swear! Stop fucking with me!”
Joaquin aims the gun at Brian's head.
BRIAN (shouting): “Please, just give him what he wants, I don’t want to die!”
BRIAN turns to JOAQUIN. He is clearly in shock.
BRIAN: "But... I thought..."
JOAQUIN grins and lowers the gun.
JOAQUIN: "Sorry dude, they're blanks. Doesn’t take much to shatter a window at this range, and I just needed a convincing reaction out of you. Which I got! Thanks! Look. No more shooting. I promise."
JOAQUIN thumbs the release catch and the magazine falls out of the gun. He slides it across the floor to BRIAN.
BRIAN is clearly in turmoil. He wants to believe JOAQUIN but he doesn't know who to trust.
COP: “Sir, please cease fire! We can still work this out!”
JOAQUIN: "Look, calm down man, I'm sorry. They have to believe I'm crazy enough to do this shit.
BRIAN: “But…Ok. Just-“
JOAQUIN is peering out of the now-shattered window as he talks. Suddenly he drops back down.
JOAQUIN (shouting): “I can see movement! Who the fuck is that?! I’m gonna shoot this guy!
JOAQUIN waves the detached magazine at BRIAN, trying to reassure him.
JOAQUIN: "Don't worry man, not long now"
JOAQUIN (shouting): “You’re fucking with me! I warned you!”
COP: “No, sir! Your car’s nearly here! There is no movement!”
JOAQUIN (shouting): “Time’s up!”
JOAQUIN: "Fucking hell. I hate this shit."
He points the gun at the side of his rib-cage, just close enough to graze, and fires. The single round left in the chamber goes off, and JOAQUIN shouts in pain as the bullet creases his flesh.
JOAQUIN: "Fuck! Me! AHHH!
JOAQUIN flips his hand out, and the gun slides spinning across the floor, hitting BRIAN in the side of the leg. Instinctively, BRIAN picks up the gun, his mouth open in shock.
There is a crash, and a tear-gas canister smashes through the remnants of the window display, exploding into billowing white clouds. The door erupts inwards.
BRIAN (coughing): "No! I'm-"
He is cut short by the stacatto fire of a police-issue MP5. A bullet hits him in the head and he dies instantly.
SCENE: Outside. The COP is listening anxiously to a police radio, a man in SWAT uniform standing next to him.
RADIO: "Red, all clear! Suspect down and I have a wounded hostage, EMT’s move in!"
He drops his head, sighing.
SWAT: “We should have gone in earlier. We’re lucky he’s only wounded.”
COP: “He shouldn’t even be wounded! I was talking the guy down; it would have been ok if you hadn’t spooked him.”
SWAT: “Yeah well, I don't know what you're worried about. It’s one less scumbag in the world.”
The COP turns away in disgust.
SCENE: Interior of a moving ambulance. A wounded man lies on a stretcher. We hear the crackle of a radio conversation.
RADIO: "Ten-David this is Control, SWAT reports all-clear at the scene, wounded hostage en-route to St. Michael's, please confirm".
We see the man on the stretcher sit up and swing his legs over the side. He pulls an intravenous drip out of his arm.
AMBULANCE DRIVER: "Control, Ten-David, confirm. En-route with cargo of one. Gunshot wound to the chest. Bullet has grazed rib-cage, no immediate danger to life."
The man reaches down, hitches up his trouser leg, and with a hiss of velcro, pulls a small revolver from a concealed leg-holster.
RADIO: "That's a Roger Ten-David. Control out."
Close-up on the man's face, the gun raised next to it. It is, of course, the THIEF. He grins, and cocks the gun's hammer with this thumb. FADE TO BLACK.