Frank Sinatra Jr. is on the second floor in room 417, sitting in his underwear eating chicken before his evening show. With him -- unbeknown to Keenan -- is one John Foss, 26, trumpet player in Jr's band. He, too, is eating chicken. Keenan and Amsler pull the car up to the stairwell, Keenan hands Joe a gun, unloaded. As the pair began to mount the steps Joe says, “Let's go back to L.A. You're not going to go through with this thing; let's go to L.A. before we get in trouble.”

Keenan gets up to the door, gun in his belt under his coat, wine box of pine cones nestled beneath his arm. Amsler has just reached the top of the stairs slowly shaking his head and locks eyes with Keenan, who reaches his fist up, knuckles inches from the door, seconds away from a knock that will change lives. He knocks on the door and Jr says, “Come in.” Keenan turned the doorknob and said, “Hi guys, I've got a package for you.” Jr says, 'Put it over there.” Keenan puts the package down and grabs for his gun, except it gets stuck on his jacket. He's yanking at the thing as Jr swallows a bite of thigh.

Finally he cocked it in Jr's face and said, “Don't make any noise and nobody'll get hurt. Both of you get over and lie on the floor, this is a robbery. Where is your money?” Foss has no money, and Jr had $20. By this time, Amsler has entered the room and is in perhaps more shock than anybody. Keenan tells him to get the money, but he doesn't move. He tells him again, finally points his gun at him. Then back at Jr, then back at Amsler, then over at Foss, then back at Amsler. “Joe, get the money!” According to the Plan of Operation, they were supposed to be addressing each other with the names of presidents, but it was too late for that. Amsler gets the money, and says, "Let's go," but they don't. Keenan pointed the gun at him and said, “No, we're going to have to take one of you guys with us. You in the dark hair” - pretending he didn't know who he was – “you're going to go with us.” Foss was tied up; Amsler, Keenan and Jr left the room and made for the car, leaving the gun in the room that they had to return to the room to retrieve.

Back at the car, Jr. is placed in the back seat with a sleeping mask over his eyes whilst they are still trying to think of what to do with Foss, when Keenan thought that it would be a good idea if Jr. played along with them, pretending that they were just guys out having a good time. Jr said: "You don't have to worry about me, I'll play along. And you better take my signet ring. I'm Frank Sinatra Jr. Somebody might notice the FS ring."

Keenan decided they should make it look like Jr. was drunk, so Keenan gave him some sleeping pills (Nembutal) and a swig of this whisky. Foss was free, and word on the crime was out. They tell Jr they are headed to Sacramento, when they come across a roadblock. Keenan stopped the car knowing they were looking for three people, and told Joe to get back to L.A and that he and Frank would go on through the roadblock. Joe got out and ran into the woods. Keenan told Jr. that he'd let him out after they pass the roadblock with Jr. telling Keenan not to leave Joe out in the snow, as he could die very quickly. Keenan starts calling for Joe who had ran into a fence post, and knocked himself out. Keenan told him that the police had seen two people, so he should get in the trunk, only to be stopped by Police wanting to check the vehicle. Just as the end looked evident, the first two cops that checked the car previously waved them through.

The guy with the shotgun who wanted to re-search the car says, “Son, let me tell you something. When you come to a roadblock, you better stop the fucking car or you're going to get shot.” As they pulled away Jr says, “Who does that asshole think he is, talking like that?”A few miles down the road, Keenan pulls over and Joe gets in the car. Keenan flicks on the radio - It's a voice saying Frank Sinatra Jr. has been kidnapped! Jr. says, "Why would they think this is a kidnapping? Isn't that just like the radio stations to exploit this."

Seeing flashing lights, fearing it’s another road block, Keenan pulls over and lets Joe out with a blanket finally realizing it's two snowplows going down the road together, so they search for Joe, going back and forth, honking." Finally they find him and start telling funny stories and laughing.

The car pulls into a driveway of a house on Mason Street in Canoga Park, with Jr thinking the whole thing would be over until Keenan tells him that it is a kidnapping. He went ballistic. He was so angry at them, not for kidnapping him but for lying to him." Keenan asked him for the phone number of his Dad. He said, “I'm not going to give you anything. You guys lied to me, you're going to have to shoot me now.” Calling his bluff, Keenan said, “Well, I guess I'm going to have to shoot you. We're still going to get the ransom money.” Joe jumped in and took Jr aside and told him that Keenan was crazy and that he might shoot him, and Joe, but Jr wouldn't budge.

Keenan called John Irwin and begged him to come over, with Irwin refusing until Keenan told him the bitter truth - "John, you knew about it, you got two choices - you can turn us in, or you've got to help.” Irwin met them on the side of the street, where he agreed to make one phone call."

Now it’s Monday morning, and Keenan needs more money. Among other reasons, he has to drive back up to Tahoe and pay his hotel bill so he can remove any evidence from the room. Back to Dean Torrence, the financier, who now realizes that all this has become more than a grandiose ploy to borrow money, he gave Keenan another $500.

Back to the hideout on Mason Street, Keenan tells Jr. that he and Amsler are only low-level goons in this caper, that one of the Big Boys is coming to get that number from him. Irwin enters and Jr. says, "Shoot me, beat me up, whatever," spews gutsy Junior. "I'm not giving you a phone number. I'm not scared of you guys." As it turned out, they didn't need Jr to get a number as Sinatra had set up headquarters at the Mapes Hotel in Reno and they got the number from information. Irwin called an expectant, edgy Frank and said, “Your boy is OK, you can talk to him, but get to this Chevron station in 15 minutes." What they didn't realize was that listings for Carson City and Reno were in the same book; the station they chose was in Carson City, Sinatra was in Reno. Frank grabs an FBI man, they jump into a car and cut a 40-minute drive to 20.

Irwin calls the station in 15 minutes. "Is Frank Sinatra there?" The Chevron man answers "No!". Irwin calls back a second time. "Is Frank Sinatra there?" The Chevron man: "Listen buddy, I'm working on a car, I don't have time to play around. Don't call again!" Irwin calls a third time. "Is Frank Sinatra there?" Chevron man: "Listen, pal. Mr. Sinatra is not in the habit of taking his calls at this Chevron station!” Seconds after he hangs up, a black car peels into the station, brakes screeching to a halt. The passenger door is flung open, a man bounds out, brilliant blue eyes ablaze. He runs up, grabs the slack-jawed attendant by the front of his shirt. "I'm Frank Sinatra! Have I had any calls?" Irwin calls one more time, a panting Sinatra grips the phone, and the conversation goes something like this:

"What do you want, money?"
"Of course."
"How much? I'll give you a million dollars if you let my son go!"
"Well, we don't need a million dollars. I'll tell you how much we need tomorrow."
"Can I talk to my son?"
A conversation ensues that consists of: "Are you all right?" and "Yeah." Click.

On no sleep for two days and enough Percodan to make a gaggle of addicts delirious, Keenan proceeds to drive back up to Lake Tahoe in a rented Impala. He's strapped skis on the roof for a winter tourist effect. He arrives, cleans the hotel room, pays up, and, realizing he is being tailed by an FBI agent, completes the smokescreen by going skiing. Once down the bunny slope and he's L.A. bound.

Keenan, now supplementing his Percodan diet with Coca-Cola, liquor, and No-Doz, pulls in at Mason Street to find a nervous Irwin and Amsler demanding they get going with the ransom collection. In his absence, Amsler and Jr. had been really bonding. They were doing pantomimes of their favourite Wallace Beery movies, and had even planned to meet up in the future when the whole thing was over.

That night, they put in the big call to Sinatra, demanding $240,000 from the grief-stricken Chairman of the Board, giving him explicit instructions on how and where to deliver the ransom. An FBI courier must follow a trail of pay phones, receiving directions at each one, finally making the drop with the bills in a black satchel between two parked school buses at a gas station on Sunset Boulevard.

Keenan and Irwin, sleepless and wired, nerves on hair-triggers, depart into the night to make the pickup. The black satchel is there. Keenan lets Amsel out to grab it while he circles the block. Four right turns later, he can see the buses, he can see the satchel still sitting there, but Amsel is nowhere to be found. Keenan got out, and looked around. Sensing the FBI’s presence, Keenan put the money in the car and took off.

When he got back to the house there was no Irwin and no Jr. He tried to wipe the place down, gathered up everything he could, burned the Plan of Operation, and got out spending the night at Barry’s place. Back at the pickup site, Amsler freaks about the FBI presence, jumps a fence and makes a beeline for his wife's place. Irwin, too, freaks, calls Frank Sr. to fill him in, and drives, at Jr’s request, to the Mulholland overpass of the 405 freeway, where he lets him out. Jr, freaked as well, cowers in some roadside bushes as passing headlights flash, understandably paranoid that his captors would return to get him. In doing so, he manages to hide himself so well that his own father, driving up and down the street, couldn't find him. Gathering his fortitude, Jr. walks into Bel-Air and reveals himself to a security guard who drives him -- stowed in the trunk to avoid the waiting press -- to his mother's house, where there is much rejoicing.