I bounced you on my knee at family

reunions, for Christ sakes. Your dad

and me ran the whole east coast

syndicate you snot-nosed little prick.

And when you took the wheel, who was

beside you?

Augustus begins to remove items from his suitcase. First a

plate. He sets it down next to the sink. Then assorted

colognes, cigarettes and chewing gum. He begins arranging

them in neat rows, always feeling with his guiding hands.

YAKAVETTA

Hey, I just...

AUGUSTUS

Don't start with your shit. Don't

you talk to me. Oh, hey Uncle Gussy,

thanks for years of service. Here's

a gold watch and a job sniffing other

guys' shit eight hours a day. What

am I, a retired bus driver?

YAKAVETTA

I need Il Duce.

AUGUSTUS

The Duke?

(beat)

What did you do?

YAKAVETTA

This kid, this package boy could

bring down the whole east coast. If

he decides to turn states he could

dismantle us... totally. But it looks

like for now, he's content with just

killing us one by one. And even worse

the kid is good at it. I mean I had

a prodigy on my hands the whole time

and didn't even know it.

Yakavetta puts an envelope of money in the plate.

AUGUSTUS

Listen kid, I think you better

understand who you're dealing with

here.

YAKAVETTA

Yeah. I was only twelve or thirteen

when you guys used to talk about

him, like he was a ghost or something.

AUGUSTUS

Your dad and I used him three times

over twenty years, only when

everything went totally fucked.

Believe me kid, you don't want this

guy unless you are 100% sure you

need him. He is... a fuckin' monster.

Int. Prison processing room day

This is a gigantic three tiered room with guards on all tiers.

They all cock their shotguns.

A PRISONER is shackled barefoot to a small metal cart on

wheels. His hands are cuffed before him with a chain linking

his hands and feet. A guard is pulling the cart through the

prison to the parole board room by a long chain. The cons

have their mirrors out to get a better look. His face is in

shadow as he bows his head.

A metal cage is lowered around him from the ceiling. The

parole board looks him over. A stenographer sits poised

MR. COBB

(English accent)

Do you feel you have been

rehabilitated?

No response is given by the prisoner. The stenographer looks

at MR. COBB who gives her the nod. She begins typing though

no words are spoken.

INT. RITZY RESTAURANT BATHROOM DAY

AUGUSTUS

I've had this guy in front of me,

and I couldn't tell you what he looks

like, sounds like. He is the Picasso

of assassins, kid. He plants hair

samples, blood. Puts skin under

fingernails. He is a fucking genius.

Only one problem. He's been rotting

in prison for twenty-five or thirty

years. Don't even know if he's still

alive. Or if he's even up to it.

Augustus hands him a piece of paper he scribbled on.

YAKAVETTA

There's ways around that.

AUGUSTUS

Go find one.

INT. PAROLE PROCESSING ROOM DAY

A large piece of paper is placed on the table and stamped

with the words parole granted across it.

INT. HOTEL ROOM BOSTON DAY

The prisoner, Il Duce enters. He is clad in a long dark trench

coat with the collar pulled up, dark round glasses and a

dark hat. He puts a suitcase on the bed.

He walks over to the window. He slowly puts his hand outside

and watches the sun bounce off it. Tears begin to flow from

beneath his glasses as he breaks down. He begins to take off

his clothes as he weeps, casting them aside.

EXT. HOTEL ROOM FIRE ESCAPE BACK ALLEY DUSK

The Duke is fully naked, except for a hotel blanket which is

wrapped around his waist, sitting on the fire escape. He

smiles and is still misty-eyed as he beholds the sun setting.

Scattered around him are all the furnishings of freedom;

Snickers bars, all kinds of empty candy wrappers, Coke cans,

and many assorted magazines.