Quoted Text FADE IN: EXT. BALCONY, WEST END APARTMENT - THE PAST - DAY SUPERIMPOSE: 'London, England' |
Quoted Text We are close up on the face of KATYA BRYNZA, our heroin. She is 19, blond, blue-eyed and, despite the fact that her looks have been muted by drug abuse and neglect, still stunning. |
Quoted Text She is taking deep breaths, steeling herself for something, trying to summon up courage. |
Quoted Text We pull back to reveal that she is teetering on the outside ledge of a balcony, her hands gripping the guard rail behind her. She is wearing nothing more than an expensive silk gown. |
Quoted Text We are at the rear of a modern, luxury apartment block in a salubrious part of London. Other residences crowd around the building, but it is late morning and hardly anyone is at home to witness the spectacle. |
Quoted Text Four stories below, in the car park, is a large dumpster filled to the brim and topped-off with a discarded mattress. Katya decides she has no choice, it's now or never, she has to jump. |
Quoted Text She closes her eyes and leaps off the balcony, crash landing on the mattress below. The fall winds her, but she knows she can't afford to lose a second, can't pause to catch her breath, so she immediately hauls herself out of the dumpster and starts to run, barefoot, as if her life depends on it. |
Quoted Text She races out of the car park and onto a back street, before turning the corner onto another much longer road. She looks over her shoulder at regular intervals as she runs, to make sure she's not being followed. |
Quoted Text JORGI and FATOS, two Kosovan heavies, all gang tattoos and muscle under their smart black suits, burst out of the main entrance of the apartment block and spill onto the pavement. |
Quoted Text Katya turns left onto another nondescript road devoid of any memorable landmarks or pedestrians. She spots a car approaching and runs out into the road to flag it down. |