A brooding Gothic structure. Dark gray stone streaked with black. Imposing. Guests exit limos, line the steps leading to the CHAPEL.

Old Money New England mixes with Old Money China. Elaborate hats for the ladies, Sharp hand-made suits for the men. White-gloved USHERS assist. We might notice how ATHLETIC these young men and women are. And observant.

The cathedral space echoes as the organist plays. Guests are seated to the left and right. The GROOMSMEN line the front of the chapel. Maybe a little more watchful than expectant. Interesting.

Giggling half-dressed women rush around the nervous BRIDE, KRIS ANDERSON (late 20s), an athletic and striking blonde. She's looking for something. Frantically.

The Maid of Honor, MISTY (30ish), approaches. A VEIL held out like a peace offering. She speaks low, the BRIDE-WHISPERER at work.

She slips it on Kris' head. Puts her hands on Kris' shoulders to steady her.

Kris finally catches Misty's eyes. Distressed. Misty smiles. Digs into her BRA. Pulls out... a Derringer. Nice.

Kris stares at the gun for a moment, relents and takes it. Then slides it into the lacy, light blue leg holster around her taut, tanned thigh.

Kris smooths her dress out and the two women size each other up. Misty beams at the beautiful bride-to-be.

Kris checks herself in the mirror one last time.

An array of limos and vehicles shroud the streets. It's a huge affair, with hundreds of guests dressed to the nines.

POV - SNIPER'S CROSSHAIRS

A tall Chinese man wearing a panama hat steps out of a limo adorned with Chinese flags. This is THE SMOKING DRAGON, early 60's. Despite unnaturally jet black hair, his receding hairline reveals his age. He wears Vuarnet sunglasses and a form-fitting silver suit with a bolo tie.

FRANK, an FBI sniper, lowers his rifle and picks up a walkie-talkie.

In front of the chapel an effusive SGT. BERKOFF receives the guests at the door with a huge smile. He greets people warmly by name, takes their oversized gifts and introduces them to an usher.

He very clearly speaks each guest's name to the usher:

The guests, feeling they're receiving first-class treatment, smile and happily follow the usher to their seats.

CLOSE on a pair of hands deftly reassembling a fully field-stripped semi-auto pistol from parts set out on a towel at a desk.

A group of tuxedoed men lean against the walls of the room drinking coffee from styrofoam cups, cheer LUKE as he completes the reassembly, drives home a fresh magazine and cycles the slide.

DAVE ROBBINS, the groom, stands afront a mirror fumbling with his bow tie. He fails to tie it, and starts over.

Dave continues to struggle with his tie. One of the other groomsmen steps up to help.

Luke polishes the pistol with a rag, then authoritatively docks it in his shoulder harness before picking up his tux jacket. He looks up at Dave and smiles.

He gently slides on his jacket, preening the fit and finish of his tux. The groomsmen nod solemnly.

PAULA, a young woman dressed in a trim business suit, hustles down the hallway. Equipped with headset and clipboard, she would appear to be a wedding planner - if it weren't for the pistol on her hip. Hand on ear, she listens to her headset.

She KNOCKS briskly on a door to her right. Opens it to reveal BOB WILLIAMS, a graying middle-aged man with a broad, friendly face dressing himself in a priest's robe.

Bob smiles wryly, his Santa Claus eyes twinkling.

He dramatically pulls a shotgun off the table.

He gives her a wink. Paula rolls her eyes and exits down the hall. Bob slides the gun into a holster sewn into his robe.

Paula KNOCKS on the door to the men's dressing room. Dave's friend is just finishing his tie.

Luke stands and tucks a pistol into his jacket before straightening his hair and smoothing his shirt. He looks around at the circle of men.

The groomsmen file out past Paula, leaving Dave alone at the mirror.

Dave turns to her with a million-dollar smile.

Dave nods wistfully and tugs on his tux jacket. From the table drawer he pulls out a snub-nosed pistol and slides it into his shoulder holster. Straightening his jacket, he pats the pistol affectionately.

Dave takes a deep breath.

He winks at himself in the mirror, then heads out the door, following his groomsmen.

There is classical music playing in the background and you can hear the sound of people mumbling.