In New York, at the airport, in an outbuilding silently walks a man, watching carefully, looking worried as he walks along a dark passage lined with packing crates. The sound of airplanes taking off heard in the background. This is Gary Stevens, blonde hair, dark glasses, moustache , carrying a suitcase. He stops by a line of crates, checks no one is following him and opens his suitcase. Firstly he takes off the blonde wig , to reveal his natural dark hair, then peels off the moustache and removes his smart white jacket. His suitcase has a change of clothes, more sombre looking business suit, he now looks quite different. Suddenly he hears footsteps , he freezes as the steps get nearer , a younger man than Gary who's in his early 40's walks into view carrying a gun. Gary launches himself at the man, the two struggle, no contest as Gary punches him out cold. A tannoy voice is heard, a call to his flight to London, Gary drags the body of the man out of sight and runs , he has a plane to catch.
Some time later somewhere in New York in an elegant office a man sits at his desk, holding a gun, caressing it almost as if it's his best friend. Another man walks in , The Boss of the syndicate, he hands the seated man a photo of Gary Stevens.
Boss " I want him, I want him dead. Put a contract out on him"
The assassin, Burton, smiles,
B " consider Stevens dead"
Months later, the west coast of southern England, the beautiful county of Cornwall , a two storey isolated house overlooks the bay. A road, no more than a dirt path winds it's way along the shore of the bay to the house, a car drives along it. The car goes to the end of the road, swinging round to the front of the house, the back overlooking the bay. Gary gets out of the car carrying bags of groceries , he climbs the steps and into his hideaway house he is renting.
Entering the open plan living space, he carefully treads, checking no one is here satisfied he relaxes and puts his groceries down. He takes his gun out and places it under the pillow of his bed, when he hears knocking on the front door.
" hey Steve"
Gary relaxes as he recognizes Doonan, the slightly drunken Scotsman who rents out the place.
G " okay coming"
He let's Doonan in.
D " you settling in good I see "
G " fine Doonan "
D " it's a relief I can tell you. During the summer when I usually rent this place, I'm up here two or three times a day, complaints about this, complaints about that, this doesn't work that doesn't work . You're different, keep yourself to yourself, yes you've really settled in, like a member of the community "
G " Care for a drink, scotch?"
D " ah, now you're getting to know me"
G " bottoms up"
D " after thirty years working on trawlers I'll not drink to that, but your health anyway"
They drink,
D " yes, folks have stopped asking about you Steve"
G ( alarmingly) " what folks"
D " In the village, not often we get an American here, out of season. Now the fishing is gone, the young ones have gone to the towns and factories, the folks don't understand how a man can shut himself away , just with the sea for company, to find himself "
G " if anyone in particular starts asking about me you'll let me know"
D " ah, that wife of yours, after the alimony. No no one in particular, I'll let you know if they do. I've been married myself, I could tell you a tale or two."
Doonan goes to the window looking out on to the bay.
D " don't go fishing today Steve, storm is coming "
G " are you kidding, it's a beautiful day "
D " in these parts storms come up quickly, yep this one will catch a lot of people out"
Doonan leaves, Gary downs another drink, in hiding in this remote Cornish fishing village.
Some time later somewhere in New York in an elegant office a man sits at his desk, holding a gun, caressing it almost as if it's his best friend. Another man walks in , The Boss of the syndicate, he hands the seated man a photo of Gary Stevens.
Boss " I want him, I want him dead. Put a contract out on him"
The assassin, Burton, smiles,
B " consider Stevens dead"
Months later, the west coast of southern England, the beautiful county of Cornwall , a two storey isolated house overlooks the bay. A road, no more than a dirt path winds it's way along the shore of the bay to the house, a car drives along it. The car goes to the end of the road, swinging round to the front of the house, the back overlooking the bay. Gary gets out of the car carrying bags of groceries , he climbs the steps and into his hideaway house he is renting.
Entering the open plan living space, he carefully treads, checking no one is here satisfied he relaxes and puts his groceries down. He takes his gun out and places it under the pillow of his bed, when he hears knocking on the front door.
" hey Steve"
Gary relaxes as he recognizes Doonan, the slightly drunken Scotsman who rents out the place.
G " okay coming"
He let's Doonan in.
D " you settling in good I see "
G " fine Doonan "
D " it's a relief I can tell you. During the summer when I usually rent this place, I'm up here two or three times a day, complaints about this, complaints about that, this doesn't work that doesn't work . You're different, keep yourself to yourself, yes you've really settled in, like a member of the community "
G " Care for a drink, scotch?"
D " ah, now you're getting to know me"
G " bottoms up"
D " after thirty years working on trawlers I'll not drink to that, but your health anyway"
They drink,
D " yes, folks have stopped asking about you Steve"
G ( alarmingly) " what folks"
D " In the village, not often we get an American here, out of season. Now the fishing is gone, the young ones have gone to the towns and factories, the folks don't understand how a man can shut himself away , just with the sea for company, to find himself "
G " if anyone in particular starts asking about me you'll let me know"
D " ah, that wife of yours, after the alimony. No no one in particular, I'll let you know if they do. I've been married myself, I could tell you a tale or two."
Doonan goes to the window looking out on to the bay.
D " don't go fishing today Steve, storm is coming "
G " are you kidding, it's a beautiful day "
D " in these parts storms come up quickly, yep this one will catch a lot of people out"
Doonan leaves, Gary downs another drink, in hiding in this remote Cornish fishing village.
