COREY LAZARUS walks through the front revolving door, wheeling his luggage behind him, adorned in his standard travelling attire: black wool sportscoat, black slacks, black silk collared shirt with the top two buttons undone, and a white beater underneath it. His eyes hide from the mid-afternoon winter sun behind his trademark pair of silver-rimmed Ray Ban's, and his hair is gelled back just enough so it says without looking too greasy. He clears his throat, and walks up to the front desk. The woman at the desk - JILL - sits still, watching her miniature TV with her back to Corey. She is middle-aged and desperately seeking to keep ahold of her youth with bleached-blonde hair and a visible tattoo on her shoulderblade that goes up to her neck with blue and purple, the design of which is indecipherable due to the teal suit and skirt she's forced to wear due to the job. Lazarus puts down his suitcase beside him and wheels his other bag up to the desk, and then pulls back his left coat sleeve to reveal his platinum Rolex. He sniffles a little bit, and then looks at the face of the watch.

Lazarus
Hmmm...almost three-thirty, local time...longer flight than I thought it'd be.

He lets his sleeve back down and looks up at Jill. She maintains her back to him, watching her soaps. She sniffles, and then grabs a tissue from the box in her lap.

Jill
Oh dammit, Brock, why don't you just come to your senses and realize that Agatha thought that Marcus was you and not your identical twin cousin!

She blows her nose, and Lazarus just clears his throat.

Lazarus
Uh, excuse me? I don't mean to be rude, but I've got to unpack and then hit the gym before dinner.

Jill
Oh, hold on, hold on...

She turns around, shutting the mini-TV off as she does so, and then looks directly in Laz's eyes as he lowers his Ray Ban's. Starstruck. She stares directly at him, and then Corey waves at her.

Lazarus
Hello, miss...I'd just like to check into my room. Reservation should be under...!

Jill
Lazarus! COREY...ahem, excuse...Corey Lazarus. Yes, I know who you are. My brother's a big PWA fan.

Lazarus
That's just dandy and all, but the reservation should either be under Luthor or Von Krupp. I don't usually check in to hotels under what everybody assumes I would.

Jill
Oh, sorry...of course...

Jill checks her computer quick, typing away carefully enough to not ruin her recent manicure, and then smiles, embarassed, when a reservation for "VON KRUPP" pops up on the screen.

Jill
Ah yes, here we go. "Dustin Von Krupp," is it? Confirmation number seven-seven-two-six-four-B?

Lazarus just shakes his head, pushing his Ray Ban's back over his eyes as he pulls out his Blackberry, opening the e-mail Price sent him with his confirmation number. He mutters under his breath...

Lazarus
...Dustin Von Krupp...Gregory's going to fucking get it...

...and then nods, giving Jill the thumbs-up.

Lazarus
Yep, seven-seven-two-six-four-B, that's me. Is this the old-school kind of hotel with an actual key, or the modern one with keycards and such?

Jill
Oh trust me, Mister Lazarus...

Lazarus
Von Krupp.

Jill
Oh, sorry...Mister VON KRUPP...yes, we're actually very modern out here in the midwest. We've actually got indoor plumbing and color television too!

Laz just smirks at her comeback to his rudeness as she forces a condescending smile. She swipes a blank keycard through the slot, hits a few keys, and then swipes it again before handing it to him.

Jill
Here you go. Seventh floor, all the way down from the elevator. Suite Seven-Thirty-Eight.

Lazarus
Well, that's nice for a change. I usually end up getting stuck in suite two-thirteen.

Jill
My apologies, sir, but your travel agent must have figured you'd be better off higher up and with a full view of the Xcel Energy Center across the street.

Lazarus
Nah, I don't mind. Why not the eighth floor? Haha...

Jill
The eighth floor, unfortunately, is under construction. Luckily, though, the construction is facing away from the Xcel Energy Center, so people passing by don't notice it. Is that alright that you're on the seventh floor and not the second or the eighth?

Lazarus
I think it's just perfect, actually. Less people will know where to look for me. And it's just AGENT...

He leans in, lowering his Ray Ban's to the brim of his nose to read Jill's nametag.

Lazarus
...Jill. I don't need a travel agent to call and book a hotel for me. Not when I've got the best agent in all of Hollywood at my disposal.

Jill
That's splendid for you! The gym's in the basement, the dining hall serves a complimentary continental breakfast in the morning between six-thirty and ten, and there's a rack over there with all of the nearest tourist attractions should you choose to visit one and familiarize yourself with the area. Have a good evening!

Corey stares at her, blankly, and then forces a smirk. He pushes his Ray Ban's back up over his eyes, grabs his suitcase and his wheelbag, and then heads towards the elevator. Jill smiles politely to him, and then turns back around and turns on her TV, going back to her soap opera.

Jill
Arrogant prick.

HOLIDAY INN - ELEVATOR. 3:28 PM.

The doors close and Lazarus takes one last look at Jill, the front desk associate.

Lazarus
Vile cunt.

HOLIDAY INN - SUITE 738. 4:53 PM.

Corey walks around the room barefoot, clenching his toes in to make a fist with them as he does so. He is no longer wearing the sportscoat or the collared shirt, but rather just the beater and the slacks. He looks at his feet, and then smirks.

Lazarus
Hey, that movie was right. Fists with your toes...heh...

BLAM! A gunshot echoes throughout the corridor. Laz's eyes go wide as he runs to the door, ducking down and trying to look underneath the door as best as he can.

HOLIDAY INN - FRONT LOBBY. 3:28 PM.

The source of that gunshot: Jill's body, lying face-down against her small TV with a gaping hole in the back of her head. Eight men, each with blonde hair and blue eyes, rush into the lobby as the last two in lock the doors behind them. Each man is brandishing various weapons, with all but two carrying MP5's. Those two are carrying a pistol-grip Remington pump-action 12-gauge and the other an AR-15 assault rifle.

HOLIDAY INN - MANAGER'S OFFICE. 3:29 PM.

The manager, KARL, picks up the phone. He is wearing a generic suit - dark coat and slacks and shoes, white collared shirt, dark red tie - and hits "9." Then "1." He goes to hit the "1" again, but the phone is shot off of his desk, shattering from the impact of the 9 millimeter round. He looks up, the handset still in his grip, and focuses on a man with shaggy black hair, large sideburns, and a suit almost identical to his. JOHAN. He speaks with a light Scandinavian accent, his eyes hidden behind large aviators, and he brings his Glock 9mm up to his mouth to blows the smoke away from the barrel. He smiles at Karl, shaking his head.

Johan
I wouldn't do that if I were you.

Karl nods, and then drops the handset onto his desk. Johan motions for him to come with him, and Karl nods, holding up his hands as he rises out of his chair.

HOLIDAY INN - SUITE 738. 3:31 PM.

Corey opens the door of his suite to find the others on his floor running around towards the staircases and the elevator, panicking from the sound of a pair of gunshots. Corey looks around, and then quickly dashes back into his hotel room, slamming the door shut and deadbolting it behind him.

Lazarus
Jesus fucking Christ...I just wanted to relax before I hit the gym...

HOLIDAY INN - CONFERENCE ROOM A. 3:45 PM.

Johan has two of his men force Karl down into a seat at the opposite end of the table as he leans back in the chair, putting his feet up on the desk. One of the men looks to him, and Johan clears his throat before speaking.

Johan
Ludwig, why don't you take Arnold and Gunter upstairs, round up whatever guests you find, and then bring them down here to the auditorium. I'm sure this will all go by much quicker and much, much easier after you do that.

LUDWIG, the shortest member of Johan's crew, nods. His long, bright blonde hair is pulled back into a ponytail, and a bushy beard covers his face. He is wearing a pair of black cargo pants tucked into a pair of black combat boots and loose grey sweater, an MP5 slung over his shoulder. Ludwig rushes out of the conference room as Johan turns to Karl, smiling.

Johan
Now, let us talk business, and more specifically about why I've decided to come here and do this, and why you're going to help this along every which way you can, okay?

From the corridor, you can hear Ludwig call to Arnold and Gunter to get their attention so as to follow him to the upstairs. Karl looks across the table at Johan, who just remains smiling as he places his Glock on the table.

HOLIDAY INN - SUITE 738. 4:09 PM.

Corey sits with his back to the door, trying to control his breathing. Suddenly, a small burst of gunfire breaks out from the elevator, and screaming is heard. Loud yelling in German is heard, all indecpiherable over the terrified screams from the few other guests on the seventh floor.

HOLIDAY INN - SEVENTH FLOOR. 4:10 PM.

Ludwig, Arnold, and Gunter herd the other guests on the seventh floor into the staircase, with Gunter following them down, letting out occasional bursts from his MP5 into the ceiling to scare them, motivating them to continue down. In his rough English, he barks few orders.

Gunter
DOWNSTAIRS! NOW!! AUDI-TOR-YUM! GO! GO!!

Another quick burst into the ceiling. Arnold and Ludwig watch, and then chuckle at Gunter.

Arnold
Gunter ist sehr enthusastic.

Ludwig
Ja!

Ludwig and Arnold turn, going down separate ends of the seventh floor hallway. Each first knocks on a door, and then fires a round into the lock, destroying it. Then they kick the door open and do a quick sweep of the room, ensuring nobody is hiding.

HOLIDAY INN - SUITE 738. 4:15 PM.

Ludwig knocks on the door to suite 736. A short round of gunfire busts open the lock, and the door is kicked open. Lazarus, on the verge of hyper-ventilation, jumps up and hides in the bathroom off to the side of the door to the room. He closes the door to a 45-degree angle, standing out of view from the doorway. A short burst blows away the lock on his door, and then door gets kicked, but barely budges. Ludwig curses something in German, and then fires away at the deadbolt, blowing it off of the wall. He kicks the door in again, and Laz holds his breath, standing with one foot on tip-toe and fists clenched, raised in a guard position.

Ludwig
Jemand musste die Tür verriegeln. Wer ist innen hier?

Corey's eyes go from wide and panicked to squinted, focused. His breathing almost instantly calms down, and he crouches, bouncing his tip-toed leg up and down, waiting to pounce.

Ludwig
Ich verspreche den, wenn Sie sich aufdecken, dass kein Schaden zu Ihnen kommt.

Ludwig inspects the rest of the room first, opening each closet and rifling through them. He chuckles, and then walks back towards the hallway before noticing the half-open bathroom door.

Ludwig
Sie können nicht von mir dich verstecken. Ich finde Sie.

Ludwig kicks the door open, his MP5 at his side, and Lazarus leaps forward with a knee directly to his face. As a reaction, Ludwig pulls the trigger of the MP5, blowing holes into the wall before Corey kicks the submachine gun out of his hand. A low-level kick to the femural artery. A mid roundhouse to the ribcage. And then WHAM! Laz sandwiches Ludwig's head between a rising Muay Thai knee and downward elbow thrust. Ludwig falls down, unconscious, and Corey stomps him in the throat. A crack is heard, followed by a low gurgle, and blood begins seeping out of Ludwig's mouth.

Lazarus
...holy shit...

Corey drops down, grabbing the MP5, and then pulls a spare magazine from Ludwig's pocket before running out into the hallway and down the fire escape staircase, setting off the silent fire alarm.

HOLIDAY INN - SEVENTH FLOOR. 4:22 PM.

Arnold rushes down the hallway, foregoing the inspection of the remaining rooms on his end, and then notices Ludwig lying lifeless in suite 738. He pauses for a moment, and then turns to see the fire escape staircase door open, and a blinking red light above it to signal that the silent fire alarm has been signalled.

Arnold
Dieses ist nicht gut. Dieses ist nicht in den wenigen gut.

Arnold pulls out a walkie-talkie from his pocket, squeezing the "SEND" button.

Arnold
JOHAN!!

HOLIDAY INN - CONFERENCE ROOM A. 4:22 PM.

Johan lifts his walkie-talkie out of his pocket, squeezing the "SEND" button as he picks his Glock up off of the table, aiming it at Karl.

Johan
Was?

Arnold
Wir haben ein Problem. Ludwig ist ermordet worden!

Johan
WAS?!

Arnold
Ja! Jemand vom 7. Stock ermordete ihn und schielt dann die leise Warnung ein!

Johan scratches his chin, and then looks to Karl.

Johan
Now, Karl, you are going to be very, VERY honest with me. Is there any type of security guard or military personnel residing on the seventh floor?

Karl
I, uhhh...I-I don't kn-know...

Karl's eyes begin welling with tears out of fear, and Johan shakes his head.

Johan
Now, Karl, this is no time to panic. I simply want to know if you are willing to tell the truth. Do you have anybody currently residing on the seventh floor who is either part of your security team or the United States military?

Karl
N-no. No security. The only thing close to security is the front desk receptionist, Jill.

Johan
Well, she is already dead, so it could not possibly be her.

He squeezes "SEND" on his walkie-talkie.

Johan
Arnold?

HOLIDAY INN - EMERGENCY STAIRWELL - SEVENTH FLOOR. 4:24 PM.

Arnold
Ja?

Johan
Finden Sie den Mann der Ludwig ermordete und ihn ermordet. Ich beschäftige das Feuersignal selbst.

Arnold
Ja! Ich verstehe.

Just beneath the stairwell that Arnold is standing on is Corey, listening all around him. He checks the MP5 in his hands, making sure he hasn't accidentally turned the safety on. He waits as Arnold stalks down the staircase, his gun drawn. The light at the top of the stairs flickers, and Arnold turns, pulling the trigger of his MP5 and sending shards of fluorescent tubing all over the floor. Corey reaches around the corner, in plain view of Arnold were to turn to his side, and fires away. Blood splatters all over the wall behind him, and Laz hops up the stairs, grabbing the walkie-talkie off of Arnold's fresh carcass.

Lazarus
Jesus...why the fuck am I even here?

Johan's voice clicks over the walkie-talkie, causing Corey to jump back a little bit, startled. He clears his throat as Johan continues speaking indecipherable German.

HOLIDAY INN - CONFERENCE ROOM A. 4:25 PM.

Johan
Arnold? Arnold, können Sie mich hören? Sind Sie dort?

Johan releases the "SEND" button, and the low static is cut and replaced by Corey's voice.

Lazarus
Arnold's dead, kiddo. Who the fuck is this?

Johan looks over to Karl, who shakes his head.

Johan
My name is Johan. Who is this?

Lazarus
...the name's Von Krupp.

Johan
Von Krupp? What are you? Are you hotel security, US military?

Lazarus
Neither. I'm just here to spend the next few nights before heading to Los Angeles.

Johan
So why did you kill my men? What did they do to you?

Lazarus
One of them tried blowing my head off with an MP5, and the other one was dumb enough to try it again after I already took his boyfriend out to an ice cold dinner, if you catch my drift.

Johan
MP5...so you know weaponry.

Lazarus
It was part of my job at one point, Jo.

Johan
It is Johan.

Lazarus
No. It is JO, as in rhymes with "ho," which is what you are. Get your boys and get the fuck out of this hotel, and we'll all pretend that none of this ever happened. The fire department's on their way, and once they see all of this bullshit you've brought to us they're going to call in the police, and then the FBI, and then maybe the National Guard, and likely even some hardcore fucking Navy SEALs. So call it a career, Jo, and get the fuck out of this hotel.

Johan
I will not do that, Mister Von Krupp, until I get what I came for.

Lazarus
Which is?

Johan
Nothing that I am going to share with you.

Sirens roar as two firetrucks pull up on scene. Gunter rushes over from the auditorium, hiding his gun beneath his sportscoat.

Gunter
Johan, die Feuerwehr ist angekommen. Was sollten wir tun?

Johan squeezes the "SEND" button, chuckling a little before he speaks.

Johan
I want you to watch this, Mister Von Krupp. Go ahead and find yourself a nice window to view this all from, and enjoy a marvelous acting performance.

Johan turns his walkie-talkie off and motions for Gunter to do the same, who follows suit.

Gunter
Was sollten wir tun?

Johan stands up, and points to Karl.

Johan
Informieren Sie Karl, dass es negative Rückwirkungen gibt, er nicht informieren uns wenn, wo die Diamanten sind.

Gunter
Ja.

HOLIDAY INN - FRONT LOBBY. 4:29 PM.

Johan exits the Conference Room as Gunter clears his throat, sitting down where Johan was seated. The camera follows Johan out to the main lobby, where two other of his crew - NIKOLAI and TIL - quickly hide Jill's body and clean up the blood within immediate view. Nikolai, as he is wearing a generic dark blue suit and white collared shirt, sits down where Jill once did, running a hand over his shaved head. He turns the TV on, finding a local college hockey game, and leans back, propping his legs up on the table and crossing his arms over his chest. Johan unlocks the front door, waving at the firefighters.

Johan
No, it is okay, it is okay. A guest was drinking a little too much and bumped into the fire door. They have already been reprimanded for their foolishness, and everything is alright.

Firefighter 1
Well, is it alright if we just take a quick look around first?

A moment goes by where Johan, smiling politely, looks into the firefighter's eyes. He nods, and then motions for them to follow him.

Johan
Usually there is no need for the fire department to show unless it is due to inspections or a touring rock and roll band, but occasionally college students drink too much beer or hard liquor and this happens.

Firefighter 2
That's fine, I understand. Most of the calls we get are from people who lit up a cigarette inside near their smoke alarm or from a faulty detector, but every now and then, especially with bigger buildings like this, there's an actual fire. So we'll just come in and look around, and then be out of your hair in a minute.

Johan
That is fine, gentlemen. Now, if you will, there is a very important religious meeting going on in the main auditorium, so I and my guests would appreciate it if you would please not interrupt it, and Conference Room A is currently filled with a business meeting between myself and my fellow associates of this hotel.

Firefighter 1
Yeah, that's fine. I'm sorry, what did you say your name was again?

Johan smiles as he turns to the firefighters, obviously stirring a name around in his head.

Johan
Clay. William Clay. Now, if you will excuse me, I must be getting back to my meeting. I'm sure our front desk associate Nikolai will be more than happy to aid you in any way you might need.

Johan points to Nikolai, and then winks at him, waving quickly to let him know to wave. Nikolai smiles and then waves, turning his attention back to the college hockey game on TV.

Firefighter 2
Alright, let's take a quick sweep.

HOLIDAY INN - CONFERENCE ROOM A. 4:32 PM.

Johan sits back down next to Karl, letting the door slam behind him. He pulls his Glock out from the concealed holster beneath his sportscoat, casually aiming it at Karl's head.

Johan
Now, Karl, given that my friend Gunter here has not immediately told me as to the whereabouts of the diamonds, I must conclude that you have failed to tell him. Why is this, Karl?

Karl
Because I have no idea what you're talking about. Diamonds? Haha...

A nervous laughter. Karl tugs on the collar of his shirt, loosening his tie after doing so.

Karl
I don't know anything about any diamonds, rubies, treasure, or whatever the hell it is that you're looking for.

Johan smiles, and Gunter slides his MP5 out from under his sportscoat, aiming it towards Karl under the table.

Johan
You are lying to us, Karl. Do you know how I know this? Because of the little movements that your body makes whenever you speak, and the changes in pitch and tone in your voice. You know where the diamonds are. We know you know where they are. So please, Karl, for you own safety, as well as the safety of every one of your guests here, please tell us. We will be out of your life forever afterwards.

Karl clears his throat, and then lowers his head.

Karl
They're, uhh...heh heh...they're in the basement...a vault, in the basement...

Johan
Was that so difficult, Karl? Now, please inform us of the combination to unlock the vault.

Karl
That I don't know. The only one who knew was Jill, and your boys decided to splatter her fucking head all over her desk.

Johan's polite smile disappears, and a knock is heard at the door. He looks to Gunter quick, and then holsters his Glock.

Johan
Halten Sie Ihre Gewehr unter die Tabelle, und garantieren Sie, dass Karl nicht spricht.

Gunter nods, and then unlocks the safety of his MP5 under the table. Karl coughs, sweating, and Johan stands up, opening the door. The two firefighters are there, looking unenthusiastic.

Johan
Yes, gentlemen?

Firefighter 1
We just checked the fire alarm system out, and your story seems entirely believable. There's no smoke reported anywhere, and none of the smoke detectors have gone off, so enjoy the rest of your evening, Mister...?

Johan
Clay. Mister William Clay.

Firefighter 1
...right. Enjoy the rest of your evening, Mister Clay.

Firefighter 2 looks at Karl, noticing his abundance of perspiration, and overall nervous look.

Firefighter 2
Hey, man, you don't look so hot. Are you alright?

Karl
Y-yeah...

Johan
He is fine. To relieve the monotony of this brief meeting Karl has wagered that he could eat two whole habanero peppers without drinking a glass of water. Thus far, he is winning, but only time will tell.

Johan smiles politely again, and both firefighters laugh.

Firefighter 2
Oh, man. I remember when you did that to me, right when I joined the department. Remember that?

Firefighter 1
Of course I do! Hahaha...alright, Mister Clay, I hope you have a nice evening. Take care.

Johan
Thank you very much, and the same to yourselves.

Johan calmly closes the door behind him, sitting back down.

HOLIDAY INN - FRONT LOBBY. 4:35 PM.

The two firefighters are escorted out of the front lobby by Nikolai, who shakes their hands and smiles, but doesn't say a word. They walk back to their truck, and wave off the other two.

HOLIDAY INN - FRONT PARKING LOT. 4:35 PM.

Firefighter 1
Nothing here, folks. Just some drunk college kid bumping into the alarm. It's alright, let's get back home.

The other firefighters walk back to their trucks, unhooking the bulk of their gear as they do so. Firefighter 2 turns to Firefighter 1, an eyebrow raised.

Firefighter 2
Was it just me, or was that auditorium awfully quiet for some type of weird religious gathering?

Firefighter 1
Yeah, it was. And that William Clay sure did have a weird accent for somebody with that kind of name.

Suddenly, glass shatters from the seventh floor. The dead body of Ludwig drops down and onto the street in front of one of the firetrucks. Both of the aforementioned firefighters jump in shock, and Firefighter 2 starts puking in disgust. A loud whistle is heard, and Firefighter 1 looks up to the broken window, where Corey Lazarus stands still, the MP5 stolen from Ludwig earlier over his shoulder.

HOLIDAY INN - SUITE 738. 4:37 PM.

Corey clears his throat, and then cups his hands around his mouth.

Lazarus
Welcome to the party, pal!

The scene fades...