Neither do I.
Kazimir takes Angelas hand and impresses his lips on it. She winces.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. THE RITZ-CARLTON HOTEL (MOSCOW) DAY LATE AFTERNOON
A Mercedes-Benz S500 pulls out of the swirling snow and stops under the hotels portico.
Out of the car steps a distinguished looking GENTLEMAN in his late 70s.
The HOTEL PORTER rushes to open the door for him.
INT. THE RITZ-CARLTON HOTEL/O2 LOUNGE (MOSCOW) DAY LATE AFTERNOON
The panoramic windows offer a view of the Red Square, covered in snow. Across the Square, the towers of the Kremlin silhouette in the distance.
A row of egg-shaped red and gold damask covered armchairs runs by the windows.
The Gentleman approaches one of the eggs, sits down in it and motions at a WAITER#1.
A cup of steaming espresso is swiftly placed on his table.
The Gentleman pulls his cigar case out and lights up a cigar. Puffing on it, he sips espresso and waits.
INT. THE RITZ-CARLTON HOTEL/O2 LOUNGE (MOSCOW) DAY LATER
A man, aged 30, with a travel bag on his shoulder and a laptop case in his hand, JUAN MACBRIDE enters the lounge.
Quickly scanning over the egg-shaped armchairs, MacBride heads to the bar counter and sits down on a stool.
The Gentleman rises out of his armchair and, coming over to MacBride, extends his hand to him.
THE GENTLEMAN
Welcome to Moscow Monsieur MacBride!
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. MACBRIDES FLAT ((MOSCOW) NEXT DAY DAY
On the bed, face down, MacBride lies. The daylight sifts through black organza curtains, framing the tall windows of the room. His clothes are scattered on the floor. Dirty paper plates and empty beer cans crowd the coffee table.
The mobile RINGS, stops and RINGS again.
MacBride lifts his head.
The mobile keeps on RINGING.
MacBride peels off the bed and scans the floor around him. Spotting his jeans, he picks them up, drags his mobile out of the pocket and hits answer.
MACBRIDE
(into the phone)
Yeah?
PAVEL (V.O.)
Hey, Mac.
MACBRIDE
(into the phone)
Pavel?
PAVEL (V.O.)
Yes, man. Where have you been?
MACBRIDE
(into the phone)
Me?
PAVEL (V.O.)
Yes, you. Ive been trying to get you since yesterday.
MACBRIDE
(into the phone)
I was in a club. I met some girls
PAVEL (V.O.)
You fucking shit!
MACBRIDE
(into the phone)
Yeah, whatever, just get over here.
MacBride jabs the phone off. Staring at the mess around him, he catches a sight of a white envelope. He picks it up and tears it open.
A single typed note and a bunch of keys fall out.
MacBride reads the note.
INSERT
Dear Juan,
Take the keys. Go to my flat and wait for me there.
Angela
The DOORBELL rings.
INT. MACBRIDES FLAT/HALLWAY (MOSCOW) DAY
MacBride undoes the lock and pushes the door open.
Pavel, holding a large grocery bag in his arms, steps back, as the door swings by.
PAVEL
Hey, Ill need to fix you a Russian cure for that hangover!
INTERCUT
Pavel goes to the coffee table. Clearing the empty beer cans and dirty plates off it, he puts his grocery bag down and starts unpacking it.
INSERT
a big jar of pickles, a bottle of vodka, and a Stolichnaya sausage.
BACK TO SCENE
MacBride sits down on the sofa. The note still in his hand, he glances at it then pushes it toward Pavel.
MACBRIDE
I had a note delivered to me.
Taking his coat off, Pavel joins MacBride on the sofa.
PAVEL (CONTD)
(reading the note)
So, they want you to go to her flat and wait?
MACBRIDE
Looks like it.
PAVEL
Looks more like bullshit to me.
MACBRIDE
If this looks like bullshit to you then why would they want me to go there?
PAVEL
No idea, man.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. ANGELAS HOUSE (MOSCOW) THREE DAYS LATER DAY
Cleared off slush, the stairs of the entrance glisten in the sun.
The silver Bentley pulls up. Angela steps out and heads into the building.
The driver follows her, carrying the two bouquets, pink tulips one and red roses one, and a brown leather overnight bag.
INT. ANGELAS HOUSE/7TH FLOOR (MOSCOW) DAY
Angela comes to the door with the 7B set in brass in the wood panelling and rings the DOORBELL.
The lock CLICKS and the door opens.
MARIA ALEKSEEVNA, a stern looking woman, aged 60, in horn-rimmed old-fashioned spectacles, wearing a red apron, streaked with flour, over the dark blue woollen dress, opens the door.
Angela glances at the apron and smiles.
ANGELA
Zdrastvuite, Maria Alekseevna.
Maria Alekseevna brushes the flour streaks off her apron.
MARIA ALEKSEEVNA (CONTD)
Zdravstvui, Angela. Welcome back.
INT. ANGELAS FLAT/HALLWAY (MOSCOW) DAY
Angela heads along the hallway into one of the rooms.
The driver hands the two bouquets and the overnight bag to Maria Alekseevna and leaves.
EXT. ANGELAS HOUSE/sTAIRS (MOSCOW) DAY LATER
MacBride and Pavel walk up the stairs, heading into the building.
INT. ANGELAS HOUSE/7TH FLOOR (MOSCOW) DAY
At the door to the flat 7B, MacBride and Pavel share a hesitant look. Pavel brings his head to the door and listens then nods to MacBride. MacBride takes the key out and slides it into the lock. It CLICKS.
The door opens.
INT. ANGELAS FLAT/HALLWAY (MOSCOW) DAY
Silhouetted in the doorframe, Maria Alekseevna, hands on hips, stands.
MARIA ALEKSEEVNA
Who the hell are you?
MACBRIDE
I were friends of Angela.
Blocking the way, Maria Alekseevna looks MacBride and Pavel over.
MARIA ALEKSEEVNA (CONTD)
I see.
MacBride turns to Pavel.
MACBRIDE (CONTD)
Pavel, tell her!
INT. ANGELAS FLAT/LIVING ROOM (MOSCOW) DAY
Sunshine streams in through the large windows, playing on the rows of book spines in the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves.
In the middle of the room, facing the windows, a French style sofa, upholstered in linen, stands. On a glass coffee table, a vase with pink tulips is placed.
Angela sits on the sofa, looking at the screen of her laptop. On the screen stock exchange graphs and figures are displayed.
Maria Alekseevna opens the door and peers in.
MARIA ALEKSEEVNA
There are two men here for you.
ANGELA
(keeping her eyes on the laptop screen)