Scripts in Development

 

The Trojan Horse

A "Shadowy" unit in the LAPD during the 80’s specialized in gang-related activities. By hook or crook, they’re assigned to infiltrate some of L.A’s s most feared criminals. The band of LA Brothers, 12 of them, drive a mysterious black unmarked UPS delivery truck. These are their stories.

Sorbo The Ransom Hunter

A former MI-6 agent resurrected his image after spending 3 years in a prison on the Isle of White in the middle of the English Channel. He now runs a three man operation out of an office located on a famous canal in Amsterdam. He’s a “Bounty Hunter” hired by corporation around the world to recover ransoms paid out to “dark web” organizations that kidnap executives from large corporations.

The Phantom (Ghost) Platoon (The Homeless Detective)

A disgraced plastic surgeon joins the Marine Corp’s and his 12 man platoon in Afghanistan is wiped out by a roadside bomb, he is the lone survivor. His brain injury gives him the power to communicate with his deceased brothers. They form a bond that solves crimes as undercover agents for the LAPD.

Creator Mike Colonna
Log Line:  A disgraced Plastic Surgeon joins the Marine Corps. He becomes the lone survivor when his platoon
                                                FADE IN:
IPHONE ALARM BUZZES
INT: Westwood - Los Angeles - Morning
Dr. Frank Gallo is spooning with his wife in bed, the screen goes black and white. Gallo rolls out of bed naked, lies on the floor face down, starts doing pushups.
His wife slides over to the edge of the bed, Gallo naked face down on the floor. Kathy Gallo rolls out of bed and climbs on Frank Gallo’s back, he continues doing pushups, grunting and groaning while lifting his wife up and down. Gallo hits the floor lies for a second, rolls over on his back and his wife is now facing him. They kiss while rubbing their bodies together.
Gallo is brushing his teeth. Getting ready to fly out the door for his first appointment at his plastic surgery center. Kathy Gallo catches him while he’s facing the mirror in her tshirt, wraps her arms around him and begins nibbling his ears.
KATHY GALLO
That was wonderful. Want another
shot at it?
DOCTOR FRANK GALLO
Later baby, this is a big shot
Hollywood star, I can’t be late.
KATHY GALLO
I’ll show you what a big Hollywood
star looks like, give me five minutes in bed.
DOCTOR FRANK GALLO
Honey, you’re too much.

Towel drops, he turns and they embrace, Gallo is in a hurry. Gallo dressed in a white shirt with a tie, rushes throughout the kitchen, the toaster pops, he grabs a slice of bread, check to see if Kathy is looking and pops open a bottle of pills. He takes two, makes sure she’s not watching.

She meets him at the front door, hugs and rubs his body with hers.
DOCTOR FRANK GALLO (CONT’D)
Later baby, I’ve got to perform a
miracle.
Doctor Gallo walks into the operating room. Betty Gaynor, famous movie star, in her 50’s is lying on her back surrounded by two nurses with face masks. She’s ready for her face lift. Doctor Gallo, looks at the large light overlooking the operating table, it’s blurry.
Looking up from the Operating table, the needle from the anesthesiologist is seen entering Betty Gaynor arm. She’s is losing conciseness, Gallo is looking down at Gaynor, everything is getting blurry.
He operates, something goes horribly wrong. Doctor Gallo collapses and is helped to a wheel chair. Kathy Gallo answers the phone
KATHY GALLO
Hello
HOSPITAL OPERATOR
Mrs. Gallo, Doctor Gallo is in the
ER. He needs you as soon as possible’
KATHY GALLO
I’ll be right there.

Kathy Gallo rushes to her car, speeds off, going faster than the speed limit allows, she runs a red light and a large truck T-Bones her car on the passenger side. The car explodes. Kathy is in a hospital bed, life saving liquids are piped into her arms, her head is bandaged. Doctor Frank Gallo arrives. Dazed he attends to Kathy Gallo.
Her pulse is weak. He bends over to console her bruised and bandaged body. A load beep from the her monitor indicates she’s flat lining. Gallo yells for help, nurses rush in,
Kathy Gallo heart stops beating.
EXT. LOS ANGELES - STATE COURT BUILDING - AFTERNOON
BAILIFF
This court will come to order.
DOCTOR FRANK GALLO is standing behind the defense table. He stands with his attorney.
BAILIFF (CONT’D)
The State of California Medical
Board versus Doctor Frank Gallo.
                                                  Fade in
A BRIGHT STARRY NIGHT - FULL MOON
Billions of stars glitter behind a full moon. We pull back off the sky, and  hear hustle and bustle under a street bridge in LA’s huge freight train yard.
PANNING DOWN
A lone soul nestled under a blanket beside 10 homeless people, snoring, arms folded behind his head with his eyes gazing into the sky.
His thoughts are on times gone by.
FLASHBACK
INT. Beverly Hills - Operating room - Morning
Three nurses prepare a female patient for plastic surgery.  A face lift.  Dr. Gallo enters, seems disoriented, has popped pills to give him more energy. A famous movie star lies on an operating table waiting for Dr. Gallo to do his magic face lift. Between Gallo and the anesthesiologist something goes horribly wrong. 
Gallo Loses his license at a Board of Inquiry.
Walks into an Army recruiting center and joins the Medical Corps.  Becomes am intelligence officer.
His convoy, somewhere in Iraq, drives over a huge roadside bomb hurling his Humvee 20 feet in the air. Gallo attends to the wounded and is awarded a medal of valor.
Gallo is discharged, looks for work in LA but is turned down at every interview.  With no future, Gallo becomes a resident of skid row.
EXT. Sixth Street Bridge - Midnight - Los Angeles
Gallo hears an explosion on the bridge.  Startled he rushes to the top of the bridge and sees a police car that appears to have hit some type of land mine.  A lone female officer is dazed and trapped in the front seat.  Gallo jerks open the passenger side and pulls the police officer out of the car. 
Gallo turns on her vest radio and shouts for help. 
Gallo
Officer Down. Does anyone copy?
The officer begins to regain consciousness.  Police cars are racing toward the accident. Sirens blaring. The officer reaches into her shirt pocket and gives Gallo her card. She pushes Gallo away and signals him to leave before her fellow officers arrive.
Gallo moves quickly from the scene, as he does he notices a the moon catch some type of glass shinning from a six story building nearby.
EXT. SIX STORY BUILDING - LATE NIGHT - LOS ANGELES
GALLO enters the slum looking building and rushes up to the fourth story where he detected the flash of moonlight off of glass. 
He quietly opens the door.  A disposable cell phone, a cigarette butt are on the floor next to the window.
The apartment is vacant.
Gallo pulls the officers card from his pocket.
Two men are fast footing it down the back fire escape, they get to the alley, a black van moves quickly through the alley, stops, the side door opens.  The two middle eastern looking men jump in and are immediately shot by the driver of the van.
INT: Los Angeles - Hospital- Morning
Gallo walks through the hallway passes an armed police officer guarding the injured officer.  Gallo’s nodded in.
Bruised but not in serious condition, the female officer gives Gallo a slight smile of approval.
EXT: SIX STORY BUILDING - MORNING - LOS ANGELES
Gallo walks the alley and picks up a spent shell.
A nervous young homeless couple appear at the end of the alley.  They have information.
A license number, description of the van, a blurred description of the driver.
Gallo is returns home under the bridge.  His confidant is Jack Corker, an 85 year old ex Navy Seal during the Korean War.
Gallo shares his information with Jack.
EXT. PHONE BOOTH ABOVE BRIDGE - AFTERNOON.
GALLO dials officer in hospital bedroom. She answers.
EXT. La downtown apartment district
Gallo is sleeping on a park bench activity in an apartment building, he sees a black van making a left turn toward the two story apartment building. Van stops, three middle east looking men open the back doors and begin removing file size cardboard boxes and entering the building. 
A man and a woman in their early thirties with backpacks enter the building. 
Gallo is wired, he describes the van, the activity, a few minutes later a SWAT team has the building surrounded, they rush the entry, get to the apartment and all hell breaks lose.
Smoke bombs, explosions, bodies flying out of windows, suicide vests, the whole nine yards.
EXT. LA Freight Yard - Sunset
Aerial of the vast train yard, panning down to two freight trains passing,  in opposite directions,, engines roar.  a closer look, Gallo is standing between the trains as they pass, his image turns into a shadow as it dissolves into the Sunset

San Pedro Cops (Sorbo)

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An explosive action-drama that delves into the world of global politics, military contracts, and personal vendettas. A disgraced former Special Ops leader uses his wits and military acumen to challenge the establishment.

JUPITER

“The Europa Mission” Screenplay by Mike Colonna

Logline: Extraterrestrials are out there and Gen X’er Ian Montgomery, a firm believer in the existence of alien life, buys a “Tiny Home” in the Southern California Desert searching for scientific explanations for life beyond Earth.

Genre: Time Travel, Drama, Alien Life, Suspense

Just Molly and Me

Mike Colonna

714-747-5670

WiseGuysCooking@Gmail.com

 

Angel Street CHAPTER 1 Melinda Cootsona St. Peter’s Bar The bar was dark except for the multiple twisting neon signs. “Coors,” “Corona” and “Closed” all buzzed to create a surreal, mystic glow. A long counter ran the width with 20 bar stools lined up waiting for patrons. The polished mirror reflected colorful glass bottles. Blue gins, golden bourbons and clear vodkas lined the shelves. Polished black granite counters sparkled with the neon’s reflections and clear well-shined glasses stood in formation. In the corner a curled-up ball of a man began to move. His leg straightened and his hand crept up to his head as a loud moan escaped from his lips. Disheveled and confused he unfolded and sat up slowly, grabbing at a chair with one hand and his head with the other. “What the...”. He said, wincing. Slowly turning, he took in his surroundings. “Where the hell...?” His voice was dry and hoarse. Blinking to focus, he slowly stood, one hand on a table for balance. Glancing down, he noticed a gold watch on his wrist. 3:05 The watch seemed unfamiliar to him. Again, he blinked while holding his forehead, pressing on the pounding pain that muddled his brain. Unsteady, he took a few short steps towards the bar counter, shuffling his polished leather shoes along the tile floor. Reaching for a bar stool to sit he began to check his pockets for a phone. “A suit?” He thought, “When did I get a suit?” Dressed in a charcoal grey Hugo Boss two button, he patted and dug though the pockets when he spotted a phone on the floor. Picking it up he discovered the batteries were dead. “Shit!” He said. As his brain began to clear he patted his pockets for a wallet and pulled out a gold money clip engraved with JB 01 – 01 – 07 Five 100’s and four 50’s were neatly folded inside along with two cards. The first was a glossy black with white writing and said simply: James Blonde The second was white, engraved with gold writing and read: St. Peter’s Bar #1 Angel Street Shifting his weight on the bar stool the man felt a jab at his side. Reaching, under his jacket he felt a leather case and cold metal. “Holy shit! A gun! Why do I have a gun?” He cried, jumping off the stool. It was then the man realized, “Wait...who am I? I don’t know who I am. What’s my name?” He shook his throbbing head. “How the heck do I not know my name? What day is it? No, what month? Where the hell AM I??” Panicked, he began to search the bar for clues. Picking up a menu, it read: St. Peter’s Bar Last stop before Union Station Happy Hour All Day. 11 am – 2 am The well-dressed man looked to the door with the red “Closed” neon. He crossed the floor and unlocked the latch, turned the lever, pushed and stepped out into the brisk night air.

Chapter 2 Joe and Suzanne Donnelly 07-07-1997 It was like every other damp evening that summer. The gardens and trees of San Francisco were lush due to so much rain; the streets were wet from an afternoon thunderstorm. The forecast for tomorrow said clear skies, but James knew that the weather was the only facet of his life that would improve. As he crossed the street where the neighborhood drug store stood, he scratched his head and wondered, not for the first time, how had he gotten himself and his two business partners in such a precarious situation? “What was I thinking? And, for God’s sake, why did I accept their money and make promises I had no way of keeping? It was a long shot, but I had enough moxie to think I could pull it off.” From the corner, he looked up and saw the lights on in the second-floor apartment he shared with his fiancé. “How am I going to be able to share this with Lauren, the love of my life?” He couldn’t face her…not right now. He ducked into the local tavern to: A. Get a drink. B. Contemplate his predicament. C. Get another drink. D. Continue drinking until he felt impervious to the fear gnawing at his gut. As he sat, hazily, looking at the clock on the wall of the bar, he reminisced on one of his happiest nights, ever. That night he was with his best friend, Angelo Garozzo, He had known Angelo since they were new kids in high school their freshman year. They became fast friends while being seated in alphabetical order every class that first semester. Angelo came from a large Italian family. Four brothers and one sister. He was never quite sure what Angelo’s father did for a living. He always found it odd that while they lived in a modest house in the neighborhood, and they seemed to always have plenty of cash. And then there was the matter of the new Cadillac Angelo’s father bought every fall. When he went to their house for dinner Angelo’s mother, Sofia, always referred to James as her fifth son. James was an only child being raised by a single mother. His father had left before he was born. James had never met the man. However, it was not because he hadn’t tried to find him. His mother was brutally honest and at the same time evasive with him about the situation; She said it could have been one of several men she “knew” that fall. The night that James was recalling so fondly was when he was sitting at a San Francisco 49’ers game with his best friend. The evening was perfect. The 49’ers kicked a field goal to beat the Cowboys in over-time. Suddenly, his back was drenched from the idiot behind him who couldn’t hold on to a cup of beer. “What the hell?” A female voice answered. “Oh, my gosh; I am so sorry. I am such a klutz. Let me buy you another beer!” James took one look at her and decided he would very much enjoy letting her buy him a drink. Angelo sized up the situation very quickly and decided to help his buddy out. He quickly said good-bye and left with Lauren’s girlfriends. They decided to leave the stadium and walked to Kelly’s Tavern, the oldest bar in the city. The place was filled with a diverse group of patrons. Football fans, neighborhood regulars, and groups of eager young women, who wanted to meet the players that frequented the bar after home games. He scanned the room and saw two barstools at the far end of the bar. They sat down next to a man who looked like he had just left an AA meeting. He was disheveled and was nursing a club soda with lime. It struck him as odd that the man pulled out a gold money clip with an abundance of large bills folded inside. Jim and Lauren had a strong chemistry between them. The attraction was instantaneous. They laughed at the same things, liked the same music, and had easy-flowing conversation. This auburn-haired, blue-eyed beauty came from a small family in Kansas City. Catholics from way back- Catholic grade school and high school. She attended college at Marymount, and had a master’s from University of California, Berkley. Lauren had accepted a job with Google in Mountain View. Her sizable salary allowed her the luxury of a small studio apartment in a relatively safe neighborhood. But the commute was a pain. They became inseparable from that night on. As they became more intimate, they shared their hopes and who they wanted to become. Lauren was quite talkative, and shared things with James that she had never shared before. She loved her job at Google. She was leading a team that was developing programs that analyze people’s internet surfing habits and their historic Google searches. But get this: the program was being funded by a “government agency.” How odd. James eventually proposed to Lauren, and they enthusiastically started making plans for the rest of their young lives together. Back to reality…James had reached the level of intoxication he desired. Now he HAD to go home and face reality with Lauren. How was he going to explain this debacle? Would she ever forgive him? Should he fall on his sword and beg forgiveness, or use his God-given persuasion talents to get her to help? The conversation he was about to have with Lauren would likely determine the trajectory of the rest of his life. He paid his tab and stumbled the short distance out into the dark humid air toward their apartment. Summoning up all the courage he could muster, he pushed the elevator button. “Maybe the elevator will get stuck and give me more time to think,” Alas, the elevator door opened and delivered him to the second floor. He shakily inserted the key to his apartment. The door opened, and he was stunned by what he saw…

Chapter 3 The Piper Comes Calling Jim and Mary Montgomery When the apartment door banged against the door stop, Lauren jumped and spun around. Her mouth was open, but no words were coming out. Her clothes were disheveled, her make-up was smeared, her hair was in disarray, and her face held a look of both surprise and fear. Buzzed up and fuzzy headed, James froze, struggling to make sense of the scene before him. He said “Lauren? Wha, wha, what’s going on? Without speaking, she angrily stared at James and began to straighten her clothes and button her blouse. He repeated, “Lauren? Just then, his friend Angelo came walking out of the bathroom, tucking in his shirt as he entered the room. Angelo stopped, looked at James and with a smug smile said, “Well good buddy, now you know what can happen when you don’t honor your commitments.” Meanwhile, Google’s head of security was grilling the Special Projects team assigned to work on a highly classified project for the NSA, trying to determine how some of the proprietary algorithms found their way to the “dark web”. The six team members had agreed to take a polygraph test, all except Stefano Barbieri. Stefano, likely the most brilliant member of the team with an undergraduate degree in computer science from MIT and a PhD in Math from Cal Tech, was a savant when it came to writing code. When Stafano was assigned to the Special Projects team, his security clearance process revealed that Enzo Garozzo, a third cousin living in New Jersey, was identified as a member of the North Jersey Mafia. However, Enzo was never charged or convicted of any crime, and Stefano’s contact with him ended when they left for different grammar schools. Following the required in-depth background investigation, including a polygraph, Stefano was granted the clearance. The FBI’s Anti-Terrorism Task Force is chasing several leads trying to determine if there are dots that could connect Stefano, the New Jersey Mafia, and the dark web. Back at the apartment, the shock of James’ discovery helped to sober him up. Just as Angelo was beginning to leave, he stopped, looked at his childhood friend and said, “Jimbo, there’s nothing’ I can do. This ain’t about friendship. It’s about business. You have exactly one month to pay back the three million bucks, with interest. If you don’t, more bad things are going to happen to you -- and to your family. Consider my visit a final warning.” After the door closed, Lauren pleaded, “James, I couldn’t stop him. He said you owed him a lot of money and he was here to get a down payment -- from me. That it was this, or you’d get an unfriendly visit from a couple of his goombahs.” James took Lauren’s hand and walked her over to their white imitation leather Ikea couch. Without speaking, they sat. Finally, James sighed and, with tears and a quaking voice, he explained the mess they were in and that they were about to lose everything. James went on excitedly explaining that, not realizing it was Mafia money, he had borrowed three million dollars from his buddy Angelo and his dad to invest in a Social Media start-up. A start-up that couldn’t lose. In fact, Kleiner Perkins and Sequoia Capital, two of Silicon Valley’s premier venture capital firms, were major investors. The business model was to create an integrated internet site for seniors offering a single platform for “one stop shopping”. There were planned links for posting messages, photos and videos, banking and investing, tele-med services, online shopping, online bingo, hook-ups for single seniors, golf lessons, pickleball and bocce instruction, recipes for “cooking for one”, home healthcare and a lonely-hearts club. As a bonus, the site would make available confidential home delivery of pharmaceuticals, such as Viagra, KY Jelly, Celebrex and laxatives, along with personal enjoyment devices, walking canes, orthopedic shoes, “help me I’ve fallen” necklaces, and wheelchairs. It couldn’t miss. But it did. It flopped big time and never got off the ground. Who could have predicted that old people didn’t want to be categorized as seniors or as too old to have an active, independent life. James and Lauren forgave each other and quickly moved on to franticly thinking of how they could possibly raise three million dollars. Then, they heard a noise at the door. Expecting more trouble, James grabbed a pistol and silently motioned for Lauren to move into the bedroom. He tiptoed to the door and waited. Nothing. Total silence. Then, an envelope, making a scuffing noise appeared as it slid between the door and the carpet. James cautiously peered through the peephole and saw an old, disheveled man shuffling away toward the elevators. He quietly picked up the envelop, walked over to their Ikea couch, and gave Laura the “all clear” sign. They stood next to each other and opened the unaddressed envelope. There was nothing but a glossy black business card with a name in white lettering: J. B. Blonde James and Lauren turned the card over and were puzzled, then frightened by a hand-written note: You are in danger I can help St. Peter’s Bar – Angel Street Tomorrow 7:00 PM

Chapter 4 Kathy and Mike Colonna Payback's a Bitch “I want to go with you James, this is getting out of control.”“ I can handle this, I've got a few ideas. I will see what Mr. Blonde is all about. In the meantime I have some unfinished business with my former best friend Angelo. Lauren wraps her arms around James, they kiss, Lauren begins nibbling on his neck, and their kissing becomes very passionate. Lauren unzips Jim's pants, she begins massaging and stroking, you know the rest. After indulging in passionate love making, they move to the bedroom, where they continue to arouse each other. The two slip under the covers, her head on James shoulder, they both nod off to sleep. About 3am Lauren had a premonition. Her laptop was sitting on her desk facing the living room. Could she have left it open when Angelo busted into her apartment? Was the whole event recorded? Lauren turned on her laptop, and there was Angelo, trash talking and forcing himself on a non-willing, soon to be, rape victim. Bingo, I'll keep this in a file when the time is right, I'll show it to James. Angelo was very curious about a "secret project" she was working on. A special Google Unit called Chronicle. Chronicle was a "top secret" project that not only tracked nerve agents from space, it could kill entire populations on earth from outer space. It had its roots in China's space program. Angelo was probably interested in part of "Chronicle" that traced smuggling rings that transported diamonds worth millions from Africa to America. Chronicle was intertwined with stealing government information implicating certain individuals connected to organized crime. Could it be connected to the "FBI's Anti-Terrorism Task Force chasing leads into Enzo Garozzo's New Jersey Mafia connections? Lauren was tired, went back to the bedroom, slid under the covers and snuggled next to James. The alarm went off at 6:30am. James was a physical exercise freak. He jumped out of bed, laid on the thick bedroom carpet and began doing pushups. Lauren hopped on James' back. He strained to keep his composure. Finally with Lauren on top, he turned facing Lauren, and their love fest continued. Lauren started breakfast. While she was preparing scrambled eggs and bacon, they began chatting about this odd fellow named J.B. Blonde. I don't know anything about this guy except our chance meeting at St. Peters bar. He wasn't drinking but he pulled out a gold money clip, with a stack of folded Benjamin Franklin’s. He laid one on the bar for the bartender. I had this odd feeling he was shadowing me, I must have had too many. The afternoon went fast, I spent time behind my desk at my office, wondering how and why my internet website did not take off. And I decided to call my old buddy, old pal, Angelo Garozzo, the phone rang three times, I was about to hang up, when Angelo answered. "Hey Jimmy, what's shakin?" I'll tell you what's shakin, are you standing or sitting? "It doesn't matter, what do you want Jimmy?" “Well Angelo, you "banged" Lauren, my future wife, I'm hoping you didn't give her any of your famous diseases. I checked her out, she looked clean, but I just wanted you to know, Lauren means everything to me. Angelo replied after clearing his throat, "Hey Jimmy, old pal, frankly she was just another piece of ass. Don't take it seriously.” "Hey Angelo, Lauren, who you affectionately call another piece of ass, just cost you every penny of that three million I owe you and your "paisans." And if you don't agree with that, we're looking at a rape case that will cost you at least three million to go away. Got it pal? And if that doesn't work, I've already drawn a target on your back. You don't know what you've gotten yourself into, asshole, there was no price tag on "banging" Lauren, your ass is mine!" It was approaching 7pm, I called Lauren, she asked me to be very careful. "Honey, do not worry, I can handle myself." St. Peter's Bar was a happening place at 7pm during "happy hour." Tons of gals and guys hooking up, I could have made my Web Site a multi-tasking destination, a site that would instantly give you the directions to any Bar, Pub, Restaurant offering "happy hours" all over the world. Not a bad idea. I looked down the crowded bar, at the end sat an older fellow, his trench coat wrinkled, his tie and white shirt disheveled, sitting having a soda, "I presume you are Mr. J.B. Blonde?" I sat into the empty bar stool, next to J.B. "So what are we here for Mr. Blonde?" "I understand the Mob, specifically one Angelo Garozzo is blackmailing you for 3 million. James looks at J.B. “How did you know that?” J.B. smiles, "I know a lot about you and Lauren, your lives are in danger, but I've got a plan to make this all go away." Blonde asks James about Lauren and her co-workers at Google. “Has Lauren ever mentioned the name Stafano Barbieri? I have reason to believe he is trying to recruit your wife by copying her Top Secret algorithms connected to a secret government project named, ShapeX. That program tracks underworld activity around the world including the testing of new satellites that can fire nerve agents from space. The satellites are designed to kill entire populations eventually creating new civilizations in space. Barbieri together with his crime family are stealing information from Google and plan to hold our government hostage until they pay billions for the information for the stolen "top secret" information. James confides in Blonde, "I have a score to settle with one of these "mooks" and I have no doubt that I'll be meeting with the brains of this Mafia Family in New Jersey." Blonde informs James that he's a target and there's a bounty on his head. Blonde hands James a dossier of the New Jersey mobs family tree. Blonde and James shake hands, and James leaves through the back door of the bar. He walks down the alley, walks to the corner and hails a cab. James believes he's being followed after he's dropped off. He walks down a gangway two doors down from his apartment, circles back through backyards, enters his home from a second floor stairway. "Well, how did it go? " I've got something for you to look at Lauren." He gives Lauren the folder, while she's perusing the different files, James goes to his bedroom closet, opens a safe above his jackets, and pulls out two revolvers. "What's your plan James? I don't feel safe here anymore." He presses the metal from his new found friends Smith and Wesson against the inside of his belt, and smiles at Lauren, "I'm going to start from the bottom and work my way up to the top." Lauren asks, "what are you thinking?" "Well Lauren, back in the day one of my favorite actors was a guy named Charles Bronson. His goal was to get rid of street punks. I think I'll start with Angelo, work our way through your pal at Google, and see where that takes me."

Chapter 5 Fred and Carol Hanley James Blonde “JB” – 5 Months ago Sitting across from the Vice President of Overall Security at Google was never the most the most pleasant experience for JB, particularly when the order to appear had only been issued earlier that morning. The night before JB had been at St. Peters Bar, somewhat late but not unusual, drinking and chatting with other frequent patrons when he noticed a young man that seemed familiar. There was no name and there was no conversation, but only a feeling that there was an unmistakable connection. The meeting with the head of Security was brief. The reason was simple: it had been reported and confirmed that JB had been romantically involved with another Google employee – totally against corporate policy. Additionally, there was the matter of routine, excessive alcohol consumption, some of which may have occurred during working hours on company property. JB was shocked and devastated. He was told to clear his office of personal belongings within the hour, return his badge of clearance and not to return to Google. He would be notified of any further benefits that may be available within the next 30 days. Best of luck! How could this happen? JB had been with Google for over 12 years. He had served in the Security Division with distinction and held nearly unlimited clearances. Yes he had become perhaps too fond of alcohol, but it had no apparent detrimental effect on his work. The other was a matter of complete confidentiality. He had mentored Marta, one of the extremely competent programmers through the intricacies of the Google corporate culture for the past couple of years. Their relationship had only become intimate within the last few weeks and only to his very pleasant surprise. Marta, when she was hired was one of the very few women brought into the high level programing department. Her outstanding ability to see and create complex algorithms brought her instant recognition from the head of her department – but also the unexpected and vocal disdain from one of her co-workers, Stefano Barbieri. Stefano often criticized her work, her dress, her attitude, her figure, even her hygiene. It had become incessant and unbearable. Whatever she did was his choice to scrutinize and critic. At one point she simply asked her friend JB to look into Barbieri’s background to try to understand his motivations and hostility. It didn’t take too much digging for JB to discover a surprising long past, but well hidden, connection between Barbieri and his own New Jersey past - Barbieri’s familial relationship with the Garozzo family and his own, as a misdirected youth, became apparent. JB had done some things that he wished had never occurred and had never been known beyond a few back within the family. And, of course, there had been personal aspects of his prior life he had kept only within his own mind. But as fate would have it, Barbieri too was tracking Marta, and would discover the relationship that had only recently developed with JB. Barbieri confronted Marta with the proposition that JB had to go, but she would not be outed if she would follow all of his directions in dealing with the extremely classified proprietary material they were developing for the government. She knew she was caught and in a precarious situation with Google . Barbieri was totally demanding and quickly pushed her to into the area of even criminal activities that she believed might cause serious harm to both Google and the government offices that sponsored their current projects. Marta could only confide in her best friend JB, who listened with empathy and more understanding than even she imagined. Lauren pleaded with James to abandon any thoughts of revenge. They could leave, assume new identities – disappear forever. James knew he had to hurt Angelo. Lauren had shown him the recordings from her computer. How could he have been so cruel to this lovely woman that he loved so much. JB had given James enough of the information on the Garozzo family to fill him with both fear and hatred of what they could and might do to he and Lauren. JB, too, knew of the power and ethical disdain of the Garozzo clan toward any individuals they chose. But JB knew from Marta the serious transgressions they may be planning with the information they had collected clandestinely from the Google project files. JB suggested to James that the meet at St. Peter’s Bar on Angel Street, 5:15, Thursday to share thoughts and plan. James cried with fear and rage. JB started the thinking with hopes that with the proper authorities they might all escape. With assurance of full immunity, Marta could testify, the government could provide anonymity through life time witness protection; various serious criminal charges would be pursued by the Feds. Angelo Garozzo and Stefano Barbieri appeared at the door of St. Peter’s along with two others, not so gently, escorting Lauren. With hands on their guns, JB turned to James. “It’s your call son”.

CHAPTER 7 Three Coins in A Fountain by Becky and Duncan McInnes SIX MONTHS EARLIER In a smoke-filled conference room on the sixth floor of the J Edgar Hoover building sat the Director of the FBI, his agent in charge of the CCRSB, (FBI’S Criminal Cyber Response and Services Branch), the agent in charge of his Anti-terrorism Branch, the Agent in charge of the National Security Teams, the Agent in charge of the San Francisco field office, the Agent in charge of overseeing the government projects known as CHRONICLE and SPACEX, and, by secured line, the head of the CIA; Bill Burns. Calling the meeting to order Christopher A. Wray, wasting no time with any pleasantries, try’s to summarize the purpose and the expectations of the initiatives as laid out by none other than the Attorney General of the United States. Mr. Wray begins the summary of inquiries: “So what we have here is pretty much the possibility of an unprecedented multi-pronged threat to the United States, with the added involvement of a foreign nation, China, and a domestic and transnational organized crime element.” Continuing Mr. Wray expresses “that packaged within these threats and illegal activities are satellite-controlled nerve gas agent release technologies, espionage of Government funded and owned algorithm data, domestic and transnational organized crime, SEC violations, and for good measure a rape, extortion and kidnapping by a Domestic mafia crime family.” “This is a pile of shit so high you need a dam drone to see all of it. God dammit we’ve got to move on this with great diligence, collective coordination, and speed before this gets any further.” Wray turns to the group and asks “Are all of our resources in place to support our San Francisco field office?” “Yes Sir, we’ve had wiretaps on all the relevant parties; members of the Garozzo crime family, Stephano e Berbieri, Google’s programming dame’s Lauren and Marta, one each on the unknown to each other father and son JB Blonde and his son James,the creator of the failed senior living app, the bartender at St. Peter’s Bar, and the low man on the totem pole of the Garozzo crime family, and our very own caught on film rapist Angelo Garozzo. “Furthermore, we’ve had satellite intercepts of China’s space satellite ignition testing, as-well-as the African mob boss Hakeem Abdul Shaheed conversations about the illegally smuggled hundreds of millions of tax-free dollars in diamonds to and from the United States.” “We’ve got court ordered and approved search and arrest warrants; and President Biden has agreed to call Xi Jinping if he can find his phone from his ass.” “Our plan that will be known as “Three Coins in A Fountain” will go forward as follows: “We are aware that a meeting between Angelo Garozzo, Stephano e Barbieri, James fiancé Lauren, James and JB Blonde will unexpectedly occur at 5:15 Thursday at St. Peter’s Bar. Before each of you is the diagram logistics of the bar. We plan to be fully dressed with flash bang stun grenades, tactical vests, night vision goggles, ballistic helmets, and enough weaponry to blow their sorry asses to Mars. We’ve instructed the on-shift bartender to cut the power in the bar at the first sign of our entry from the front and/or rear of the bar. We hope to take Angelo, Stephano, any Mob thugs, James, Lauren, and JB Blonde into custody for interrogation; each in a separate FBI van, and each in a separate interrogation room. Within the half-hour from our incursion at the bar additional units will serve search and arrest warrants on Enzo Garozzo, and the programmer known as Marda. “During our interrogations we need to uncover who’s stealing secrets from whom, and who’s giving them to whom…which Mafia or Cosa Nostra damus families are involved with informational algorithms and/or importing and exporting diamonds for untaxed profits…and to what extent have the damn Chinese developed technologies for space satellite nerve agent transmission that could have the capacity to terminate various populations on Earth.” “And so, there are you three coins folks …are are they intertwined to any meaningful extent?” “After the arrests and interrogations, we’ll meet back here to discuss what we’ve been Been able to ascertain from these societal misfits and formulate our next steps forward.” “We won’t be able to hold any of them for more than forty-eight hours or so. So, when they hit the streets put a tail on them and see if we can learn who they talk to and about what. As far as we know they all have access to guns, and we consider each of them potential flight risks. Put agents at the airports and train stations…they will likely be on the run.” TWO DAYS LATER After eighteen hours of grueling question and answers from the good cop-bad cop, jail time threats, and combative brinksmanship, James, JB, Lauren, Marta, Angelo, Stephano and two mafia thugs hit the streets. James and Lauren, and JB and Marta hail two cabs with the plan to meet at a previously discussed hotel where they would check in under false names and pay with cash…maybe just maybe this would give them time and some cover while they plotted their next moves. They were all hot targets and each of them knew that their survival chances depended upon their not being spotted by the Garozzo family or the fucking FBI whom they thought might be their golden parachute out of this nightmarish mess. The interrogations lead each of them to think otherwise. James and Lauren entered the first cab and instructed the Arab looking cabbie to take them to the Argonaut Hotel next to Fisherman’s Wharf. James says, “I’ve got ‘fins’ for you if you make sure we aren’t followed.”d…All All they they got back was a nod and a sharp left turn. JB and Marta do the same in the second cab. The four fugitives check into adjoining rooms under the names Mr. And Mrs. Luciano and Mr. And Mrs. Gambino. “Surely nobody would dare mess with them with names like that…James mumbled.” They hung the do not disturb signs on the doors, dead bolted the locks, shoved chair backs under the door knobs, closed the curtains and got to work on “The Plan.” JB leads the conversation…”I’ve been working on this for weeks the way this shit storm looked like it was progressing.” “I don’t think we have a choice but to try and disappear. We’re toast if the mob gets us first… and our friends at the FBI and the CIA are using us as minnows to catch bigger fish.” “So, here’s the plan.” “San Francisco has five ports for container shipping with transpacific lines to ports all over the world. Forty-two vessels travel in and out of these ports every week. It’s somewhat of a loosely governed business as ten thousand containers go unclaimed every year. It takes twenty days for a cargo ship to make its way from the Port of Oakland to Piraeus, Greece…our new home with any kind of luck. “Oh and coincidentally the African Mob uses the Oakland Port of Call to transport all their Their illegally smuggled diamonds into the States. They buy their way free and clear by bribing the longshoremen who unload the containers. By design their containers go unclaimed. They then have a hired shill buy their unclaimed container at auction for virtually no money. The unclaimed containers sit on the ship while the next weeks containers are loaded and readied for disembarkation. “At Google I ran across confidential information developed by the SPACE X program that tracked the mob’s use of container shipping number SA for South Africa 007. These clever as shit Cosa Nostra damus dudes obviously watched Diamonds Are Forever. “So, what does all this mean JB asks them.?” “Well I’ll tell you…it’s risky but if it works we will be sitting in paradise farting through silk sheets.” “We are going to board the vessel EVER LIBRA at night Wednesday. It will be at Terminal ETSOAK. We will attempt to find SA007 amongst about 400 containers…we’ll have flashlights and that’s about it. If we’re lucky enough and find it we will break the lock, take some but not all of the loose diamonds, put a new lock on the container, and set forth to finding and breaking into the container that may well take us unnoticed to our freedom and the hell out of here.” “James you and Lauren find a Target and buy bottled water, energy bars, Dramamine, blankets, and adult diapers. Marta and I will find a hardware store and buy bolt cutters, flashlights, knives, and hand warmers, and we’ll meet you at Pier 18 at 8:00. And be the careful…this is do or die kinds of shit.” “James says that it’s been a long day…the understatement of the ages…” let’s get some sleep and we’ll go over the plans again until we’ve got it down. The two couples go to their seperate rooms and proceed to make love like it might be their last time, and then crash embracing one another as they drift away to sleep. The next morning, they gather the free newspapers delivered to the doors of their collective rooms. They open up the front page of the East Bay Times and the San Francisco Chronicle to the glaring headlines that detailed that two bodies were found slain in the Fountain of The Turtles across from the Grace Cathedral. San Francisco police have identified the first victim as one Angelo Garozzo. He was found with his severed penis shoved in his mouth with his open eyes bulging out. The second victim is one Stephano Barbieri who appeared to be strangled with a piano wire. Investigators believe this has the markings of a mob hit but are also on the lookout for four former Google employee’s that are deemed to be “of interest.” JB and Marta burst through the adjoining s hotel room door, and while all four of them having that “I got fucked last night smile on their faces,” they simultaneously screamed “Holy Shit.” “Mr. Wray ay San Francisco field agent, I Olazabal, is on the line as you requested…administrative assistant Heidi Declare informed the Chief. “Olazabal, where are they and what in the hell happened last night?” asked Director Wray. “We’ll Sir it looks like a mob hit with the dick in the mouth trick, but you may remember James telling Angelo Garozzo ‘Your ass is mine.’ As to their whereabouts they seemed to have disappeared. But we’re on it and I’m confident we’ll find them.” TWO MONTHS LATER - SUNDAY JUNE 18th JB is up early and summoned the cabana boy at the secluded Perivole beach in Skopelos, Greece. “Heh man, I need two cabanas, two bottles of chilled Dom, six ounces of Beluga caviar with crackers, four beach towels, and a licensed Officiant at Sunset tonight.” “Have you got that?” “Yes Sir, and thanks for the hondo Sir,” answered the well-tanned Felipe. At sunset James, Lauren, JB and Marta, dressed in all white Greek formal attire, shoeless on the most private and magnificent beach they’d ever hoped to see, , each answered yes to the ‘until death do us part bit’ and then rejoiced with their new spouses, new freedom, and new wealth. Oh, and by the way JB, exclaimed James,