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A Tricky Game
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Do you think the shot was a warning?
ANGELA
I can’t really say.
PAVEL
(slurping his tea)
I think the warning is more likely.
ANGELA
(rustling out a chocolate)
What makes you think so?
PAVEL
From my experience of working in the Special Police Unit, I can say that professionals don’t miss.
ANGELA
You think it was a professional?
PAVEL
Yeah. He was probably in a half-built building across the street.
ANGELA
How do you know?
PAVEL
It seems like an obvious place to hide. From there the shooter had a clear view of the street.
ANGELA
I see.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. MOSCOW – NIGHT
A piercing wind drives clouds of swirling snow along the street. An endless procession of cars crawls along it.
A snow-grimed taxi pulls over and stops by the curb.
MacBride gets out and, struggling through the snow, walks down the street.
His mobile BUZZES.
MacBride takes the phone out and glances at the screen.
INSERT —
a local number.
BACK TO SCENE
MacBride answers the call, his breath fogging the night air.
MACBRIDE
(into the phone)
Yes?
THE GENTLEMAN (V.O.)
Monsieur MacBride, this is Jacques Moreaux.
MACBRIDE
(into the phone)
Ah, Monsieur Moreaux. Bonjour, or what do you say up there?
THE GENTLEMAN (V.O.)
Bonsoir. How is Mademoiselle Angela?
MacBride shields his eyes from the swirling snow.
MACBRIDE (CONT’D)
(into the phone)
Mademoiselle Angela is very well as far as I can see.
THE GENTLEMAN (V.O.)
I’m glad to hear that.
MACBRIDE
(into the phone)
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