Somebody said “GUN!” and the next thing I know, director Mo Fallon drops his camera, drags me to the floor of a crowded care and covers me with his body. A split second later, assistant cameraman Josh Flannigan piles on. Mo has his back to the potential shooter, shielding me. The danger passed quickly. Two car thieves, struggling with the ignition, had allowed their stolen vehicle to drift into the curb in front of the cafe where we were shooting a scene. Witnesses had tried to drag them out of the car — at which point one of them produced a weapon. After a tense moment, the two were (wisely) allowed to flee the scene unmolested. As I got up from the ground, I think my first words to Mo were, “If your wife finds out about this, she is going to kill you.” My crew are not the Secret Service. And I sure as shit ain’t the president. This kind of behavior, while flattering — and well…frankly, heroic — was above and beyond the call of duty. I can — let’s face it — be replaced. I returned to