THE RUNNER SCREENPLAY by BRIAN R. LUNDIN (ebook reader below 3000 .txt) 📕

night. In his early twenties and perhaps had African/French ancestry extremely dark.

JEROME
Good evening Marque I have an appointment with Madame Bourneis.

INT: HOUSE-DAY
We see Marque lead the way inside, through a dimly lit formal dining room and an even more imposing library chamber. Rows of bookshelves containing leather-bound books lined its shelves. Glancing at the titles, Jerome saw books ranging from American Westerns to Philosophy. They passed a white birch fireplace screened by brass curtains with heavy brass andirons. Marque leads him through a dimly lit hallway where tall oak bookshelves stood erect on every wall. They walked pass a double bay window and Jerome looked onto a large back yard with a covered pool and a black and green cabana. Finally, Marque led him into a large eloquently decorated room and directed him to have a seat on a wide, elegant and deep burgundy velour covered couch. Jerome sat down in front of a glassed topped cocktail table that contained a glass of what appeared to be lemonade, when he looked around Marque was gone. Jerome took a sip of the lemonade and looked around the room. It was dim, lit only by a series of scented candles. Flickering incense placed throughout the room emitted a strong but pleasant smell. The floor was covered by plush black carpet that accentuated the light. Expensive looking African antiques are carefully placed throughout the large room. A hand-carved, hideous, ivory carved mask with an angry, terrifying face and black stones for eyes hung on one wall. On a black-marble table with animal’s legs was a strange looking black ivory antique of a woman with a black panther’s head, its black eyes seemed to be looking at him. Jerome heard what sounded to him like a growl, he jumped to his feet and turning around he saw a female figure partially concealed in the shadows of the room that was staring at him, he could only see her silhouette and her black piercing eyes that seem hypnotic, and were similar to the eyes of the panther antique. Her steady gaze seemed to transfix him and Jerome started to reach for his gun, and prepared himself for the attack. Suddenly, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen stepped out of the shadows into the light of the flickering candles. The woman was tall, appeared to be in her late twenties and had flawless tan skin, she had a slender, but shapely body and her hair was jet black, worn loose and hung to the middle of her back. Her eyebrows were arched and well defined, but not thick. Long eyelashes haloed her charcoal-like eyes that had a dark luminosity indicating keen intelligence and something mysterious, even frightening; she had a thin nose above full sensuous lips. Her dark almond shaped eyes that had initially frightened him now intrigued him. She was wearing a short white skirt and a blue blouse with the top three buttons of the blouse was opened and revealed her full brown breast. She wore black leather thigh boots that hugged her muscled legs and on the side of her flowing black hair sat a white beret. A string of black pearls and other precious stones accentuated her outfit. Marque was standing behind her, his bristling black eyes never blinking. As she approached her movement was both languid and filled with energy, like a cat. Outside the original sunny day had changed thunder sounded, hard on the heels of a brilliant flash of lightning.

Jerome felt an uneasy feeling that he had somehow stumbled accidentally into the liar of a dangerous wild animal. The antiques sent a cold chill through Jerome and he was ready to leave. He remembered stories that his great-grandmother who was born a slave, uses to tell of voodoo, witch doctors, black magic and she–devils that she claimed could change their form at will from a beautiful woman to a beast that would help the oppressed people in Africa. Suddenly, he felt a chill and a strange uneasiness; he unbuttoned his jacket and slowly placed his hand on the .45 caliber automatic pistol, which was in a shoulder holster under his coat. He felt as if a predatory animal was watching and stalking him, and was ready to attack.

MADAME BOURNEIS
Good evening Jerome I am Madame Bourneis.

JEROME
(stunned)
Good evening Madame, my name is Jerome McLemore.

MADAME BOURNEIS
Yes, I know.

Madame Bourneis slowly walked over to the couch where Jerome was standing and stood very close to him. Either the perfume she was wearing or her body scent was intoxicating and he suddenly felt himself becoming dizzy and light-headed. His breathing suddenly became labored and he felt sweat on his forehead. Everything about Madame Bourneis was sexual her tone and her body language exuded sex. Madame sensuality was over powering like a fire that seemed to radiate both heat and light, but Jerome felt no romantic urges toward her, matter of fact he was scared shitless, that same feeling he had when he first entered the room, of being stalked by a dangerous animal, invaded his consciousness. Without any warning, Madame Bourneis gently placed her hand on his forehead. Her hands were cold and he thought he felt a long, sharp claw. Suddenly, all of the bad feelings he was feeling were gone, his breathing became normal and the dizziness and sweats were gone. Jerome slowly turned his head and looked at her. Her profile was difficult to ignore against the glow of the scented candles. She was radiant and her beauty was beyond description. She seemed to will his eyes to look into hers. They were black as night and he could have sworn that he saw his whole life in her eyes. After what seemed like an eternity, they sat down on the couch. Jerome wanted to get up, to run out of there, but he could not move.

MADAME BOURNEIS
You are going to need my help Jerome there are evil men who intend to do you and yours harm. They wish to take over your businesses and undo all the good you have done for our people. I will not let that happen.


JEROME
Will you come to Chicago?

MADAME BOURNEIS
We will be there, when you get there.


Jerome turned and took a sip of the lemonade that was still on the cocktail table and it was still ice cold. When Jerome turned back around, Madame Bourneis was gone and standing in front of him was Marque who led him to the door.

MARQUE
See you in Chicago, Mr. McLemore.

V.O
As he was leaving, Jerome noticed that the door seemed to close on its own and he though he heard another deep, guttural growl.

At six am the traffic on the relatively newly opened Dan Ryan Expressway East seemed to move faster as the sky grew darker. Driving east on the Dan Ryan is VITO PELLEGRINO the “Caporégime” of the Chicago Crime Outfit seated in the back seat, his underboss JIMMY TORTORENO was in the front seat and his driver ROBERT ALERETTI. The expressway is the main route from Chicago to Indiana and is always choked with traffic. A sudden outburst of hard driving snow mixed with rain splattered against the windshield making the wipers almost useless and distorted the taillights of people in a hurry to get out of the brutal Chicago winter. Motorist changed lanes without any warnings nearly causing accidents. As they approached the 35th Street exit Vito saw a young woman wearing a short skirt standing under an umbrella approaching cars exiting the highway.

VITO
Pull over!

The driver carefully exited the Dan Ryan at 35th Street and stopped behind a row of vehicles. The woman worked her way down the line of cars poking her head into the cars saying something to the driver and moving on. When she got to Vito’s vehicle he rolled down the window.

YOUNG WOMAN
Hi white boys you’ll want a date?

The woman appeared to be in her late twenties, dark skinned and was very thin and slurred her words.
VITO
How much for some head?

The woman slightly raised her skirt showing her privates and with a dazed look smiled.

YOUNG WOMAN
(looking at the three men)
I’ll suck all of you off for twenty dollar a piece!

VITO
Just me, get in.

The young woman got in the backseat with Vito and started unzipping his pants. Vito could smell the drugs coming out her pores he rolled down the window, leaned back on the rear seat of the black Eldorado Cadillac, closed his eyes while the woman got on her knees and started giving him a blowjob. Robert Aleretti weaved back into the Dan Ryan traffic and cussed the weather and the reckless drivers. As they pasted 47th Street Vito let out a loud moan and opened his eyes as the young woman was still sucking on his limp penis. When he looked to the left he saw the massive faceless and depressing Chicago Housing Authority high rise buildings, part of a complex known as the State Street Corridor, a series of public housing buildings that began at 22nd South State Streets and ended at 53rd South State Street.


VITO
Take an exit at 51st Street.

Vito zipped up his pants as the car pulled to a stop alongside the curb. The woman wiped her mouth with a tissue and smoothed out her short skirt.

VITO
(rolling up bill)
Ok, bitch here, get the fuck out.

The young woman had got out the car when she unfolded the bill.


YOUNG WOMAN
What the fuck is this the date was for twenty not a fucking five.

VITO
Fuck you black bitch, that head job was only worth a fin.

Before the prostitute could respond, Vito slammed the door shut and they drove off. The prostitute stood shivering in the cold rain cussing Vito and his parents. Vito laughed as he looked out the rear view window at the now totally soaked black woman who was still screaming at him.

VITO
A good hoe gets her money up front!

Jimmy drove down the ramp onto the Dan Ryan. As they continued East on the expressway, Vito looked again at the massive public housing project.


VITO
When we take over that Nigra Jerome McLemore “Nigga Game,” we’re going to make a lot of money off them Nigras in the projects. I told Marco not to kill Jerome, but you know how Marco hate blacks and will probably beat the shit out of Jerome. Willie Bobo and Flatnose Wally would go along with Marco and probably get a few licks in to. Later on I’m going to get even with that big nigger Ted that had hit me during the snatch, but that can wait.

Vito wondered how Jerome’s migraine was. He felt good about himself; he was kind enough to give Jerome a couple of his pills and a glass of water, that was a Christian thing to do, he chuckled to himself, Father Antonio his childhood priest would be proud of him.

EXT. DELUCA’S WAREHOUSE- TEN AM

The monolithic outline of the warehouse appeared against the backdrop of a grey and gloomy sky. When they arrived at the Gary warehouse, Vito was surprised when the only thing left of the warehouse was a burned out shell. Uniformed Gary Police officers stood behind yellow police tape inscribed in big black letters, “CRIME SCENE DO NOT CROSS,” smoking and talking. The Gary Fire Department was on