(We open with a fade-in back to Louie's. Butch grins at the other guys.)

Butch: Ok, that's my part. Who wants to go next?

Bobby: I'll do it. Those explorers are going to need someone to transport them and their gear all over the world.

Sach: (Hiccups) Who's gonna do that?

Bobby: (Moves away from Sach and his breath) If you'll stop breathing on me, I'll tell ya. (He turns to the others) Slip and Chuck had an old friend who owned a plane...

(Fade out on Bobby telling the story. Fade in on a bar...but it's a much rougher bar than the swank nightclub of Butch's story. There's quite a few tough characters, many in aviator's jackets and helmets, sitting and drinking around the room. Whitey, Slip, Sach, Chuck, and Butch enter. All now wear jeans, khakis, jackets, and t-shirts.)

Butch: Do you guys really think we'll find a pilot here who'll be willin' to take us where we're goin'?

Sach: I've seen nicer guys in the old Warner gangster pictures.

Butch: How did you two meet this guy?

Sach: Yeah! You said he's an ol' war pilot.

Slip: Yeah, he is. He's a good guy. An' let’s just say we met through circumstances.

(A slender hand in a leather jacket waves the boys over. His face is hidden under a battered brown fedora.)

Butch: That must be him.

Sach: Either that, or his hand needs a good stretch.

Chuck: No, that's him.

Bobby: (Lifts his hat brim to reveal the familiar cherubic, grinning face when they sit down) Hi, Slip. (Nods at Chuck) Chuck. How's things?

Chuck: All right.

Slip: Hey, Bobby. We need a favor that could earn ya a few bucks.

Bobby: What's the favor?

Sach: Hey, you ain't old! You can't be more than a kid!

Bobby: (Frowns) I'm older than I look.

Slip: We need someone to fly us to find a lost city. We find it, we get riches, and ya earn yer bucks.

Bobby: A lost city? For real?

Chuck: Whitey, here, has a map.

Bobby: (Raises an eyebrow) For real, then. (He grins) Ok. I want $2,000. In advance.

Slip: Advance? Ya forget who's askin' ya? If we find it, we'll pay ya.

Bobby: (Leans back) All right. I trust you, Slip...most of the time. And I really trust Chuck.

Chuck: Thanks, Bobby. You won't regret this.

Bobby: I hope not. I need that money, and I need it soon.

Sach: What do ya need money for?

Bobby: I owe a few people money who like their payment yesterday.

Slip: Yeah, I know that kind.

Bobby: (Looks up, frowning, as several familiar figures come in) Look, I'll meet you guys at the Indiana Hangar on Lucas Street. Things are about to get hot, and you don't need to get involved.

Slip: *Eyes the same figures* We might already be involved without any help.

Chuck: Come on, fellas!

(They all hurry out as the men go to Bobby's table. He stands and blocks them before they can go after the others.)

DuVal: Out of the way, boy.

Bobby: No way. I'm the one you want the money from. I dropped that shipment.

DuVal: Perhaps, but I have business with them, too.

DuVal: I could always take your plane for collateral.

Bobby: Over my dead body.

DuVal: That could be arranged.

Goon #1: (Pulls out a gun) Want us to shoot the little bastard, boss?

Goon #2: We'll enjoy it!

Bobby: Enjoy this! (He shoots at the men; hits one in the arm. Hands a crumpled dollar bill to the bartender) Sorry about the mess. (Hurries out the back exit before DuVal has a chance to even see where he's gone.)

DuVal: Where'd he go?

Goon #1: (Holds the other; turns to DuVal) That little bastard! We've gotta get him, Boss!

DuVal: Perhaps we could do one better. I have a feeling he may lead us to the others.

Goon #1: I'll call somebody to get him to the hospital...then, we'll follow that little jerk. I wanna mash his face in.

(Cut to the hangar. Sach drives right into it. The camera lingers on a dilapidated cargo plane with the words "The Silver Falcon" almost-painted on the slightly-rusted sides.)

Sach: That's a really interestin' lookin' plane.

Butch: It's a piece of junk!

Sach: I'll bet it's a lot of fun when it's up in the air!

Butch: Can it make it to the air?

Sach: (Grabs his bags and a pile of shovels) When are we goin'? I can't wait to fly! Maybe Bobby'll even let me fly!

Slip: Yer already flyin'.

Sach: I am? Where am I goin'?

Butch: (He hefts his suitcases) Bobby seems nice enough, but...what was all that about 2,000 dollars? Like treasure isn't enough?

Sach: Maybe he has a sick ma.

Bobby: (He hobbles in) Ok, guys. Everyone load up the plane. We've gotta get goin'?

Sach: What's the rush? Is there a fire?

Bobby: Let's just say things are gettin' mighty hot around here.

Slip: How hot we talkin', Bobby?

Bobby: (Looks up; sees DuVal coming in, this time with more men) THAT hot!

Sach: Some fire! I don't see anyone burnin'.

Bobby: I'm gonna burn if we don't get outta here.

Goon #1: What's your rush, boy? (Smirks) Hello, Mahoney 1 and 2. Fancy seein' you two here.

Slip: What's it to ya?

Goon #1: Didn't think you were the type to run around with mercenaries like Jordan here.

Goon #2: Can we shoot them now, boss?

Sach: Shoot them! (Ducks behind Slip) Oh save me! Hurt them, Chief!

Bobby: (Pulls out his gun) Anyone else want a shot in the arm?

Goon #1: Can I hurt him, boss?

DuVal: *Smirks* Take out Jordan’s legs.

Slip: Don't even think about it.

(The goons start for Bobby...but they don't get very far when Slip and Chuck launch themselves at them and Bobby starts shooting.)

(One goon kicks Bobby in the knees during the ensuing fracas. He lets out an anguished scream, grabs his knee, and ends up on the ground. The man leans over him to finish him off...and he grabs him and wrestles him, still yelping in pain.)

(Butch hits the men over the head with suitcases...including one attacking Chuck.)

Bobby: (He's pushed the goon away, but he's still on the ground, his eyes watering) Guys, get to the plane! I'll get there!

Goon #1: Boss, they're gonna get away again!

Sach: (His eyes widen as he hits a goon with a suitcase, which opens...and the map goes flying out) The map! Whitey, the map!

*DuVal and a couple of goons surround Whitey and Sach.*

DuVal: *Golds out a hand* Give me that map.

Sach: (Grabs the map and holds it to him) No way!

Bobby: (Slip and Chuck help him to his feet) DuVal, leave them alone. This is between you and me.

DuVal: Not completely.

Bobby: Yeah, it is.

(Two of the goons manage to pry the map away from Sach. He yelps.)

Sach: Hey! (They shove him aside, knocking him into Whitey) Ouch! That don't belong to you!

Goon #2: Now can we kill 'em, Boss?

Sach: (Whimpers) I'm too young and handsome to die!

Bobby: (He pulls out his gun again) You pull that gun, and I'll fill ya full of lead.

(That's when we see suitcases smack the sides of two of the goons' heads. They fall to the ground...revealing Chuck and Butch.)

Sach: Chuckie! Nice job!

Bobby: Good work, guys.

Butch: (He wails DuVal over the head; gets him onto the floor) Let's get the hell outta here!

Bobby: You ain’t gonna hear me argue. (He heads for the cockpit; Slip and Chuck help him in) All aboard!

Butch: But what about the map?

Bobby: There ain't time for that now! Those guys will be up any second!

Whitey: You still have me!

Sach: Yeah!

(Sach and Whitey are the last ones in. The camera cuts to the front of the plane as it roars to life. DuVal gets to his feet just in time to see the plane take off.)

Goon #2: Damn it, boss, they got away!

DuVal: Yes... but we have the map. >:)

Goon #2: Yeah! (But he still looks confused. DuVal, on the other hand, lets out a sinister laugh as we fade out on the Silver Falcon gliding into the sunset.)