to the rundown front. Multiple cars are parked askance outside the open door. INSIDE the vehicle, WE SEE WILLIAM HAMER, UNDERCOVER AGENT 36, pull his wallet out. WE SEE HIM retrieve FBI identification and hide it in the glovebox. He ENTERS the building. INT. COMMERCIAL GARAGE - NIGHT AGENT HAMER passes two tough guys. VIN Tsk tsk tsk. Tardy again, Joe. Do ya need us to buy ya a fuckin watch or somethin? AGENT HAMER Vin, get the fuck outta here. You were late to your own birth. The other goon laughs as AGENT HAMER walks away. WE STAY on HAMER. VIN (to other guy) That one wasn't my fault. AGENT HAMER heads further into the garage and sits down at a long table with a black tablecloth extending to floor level. The BOSS, 58, with white slicked back hair is fixing a drinking at a nearby dry bar. AGENT HAMER Whatcha got? BOSS reaches into his shirt and takes out a small folded picture. He tosses it on the table and returns to his drink. BOSS (turned away) Pest control. We got a rat over on the East Side HAMER picks up the picture and opens it. BOSS (CONT'D) (simultaneously) You know him actually. (MORE)