He clicks off and starts swerving, taking evasive action, and the cart slues 360 degrees on the wet grass. Behind him, two pursuing carts are having similar problems, spinning around recklessly between sprinklers, but they’re gaining on him. Napolitano sees what he’s looking for and races for an iron fence with high, pointed spikes. On the other side of the fence, cop cars SCREAM past going toward the compound's main gate. Napolitano hits a culvert at a sharp angle and almost flips. He wrestles the cart along on two wheels, rights it and parks it alongside the gate. Behind him, one of the pursuing carts comes in too steep and skids out of control.
Napolitano hoists himself onto the cart's slippery roof and swarms over the fence's multi-pronged crest to the other side. He hears the security guy clambering up behind him, yelling for him to stop. As the mayor falls onto the grass along Sycamore, a hybrid Ford Escape screeches up, the passenger door opens, and a hand reaches out to pull him inside. As the car races off into the night --
EXT. – LONG CIRCULAR MANSION DRIVEWAY - NIGHT
Sydney’s Bentley is at the very top of the driveway, hidden in shadows. The house itself is obscured in darkness.
INT. – AN AUSTERE SITTING ROOM - NIGHT
Hyper-modern and uncomfortable, overhead spot lighting casting strange shadows on brushed-steel tables and straight-edged furniture. Sydney Pizer is squirming in a too-narrow chair, trying to get settled. On the table in front of him are two glasses and an open champagne bottle in an ice bucket. A door slides open, and he looks up expectantly as someone enters.
The person, still invisible in shadows, slides into the seat opposite Sydney. Her hand reaches out and taps the champagne bottle with one perfectly manicured, gleaming red fingernail. Celeste’s perfectly made-up face leans forward into the light. She looks very tense and strained under the makeup.
He does. She takes a drink and sits back.