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The Manchurian Candidate Movie Script

Writer(s) : Richard Condon, George Axelrod, Dean Georgaris

Genres : Mystery, Sci-Fi, Thriller

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                      THE MANCHURIAN CANDIDATE

                                By
                          Dean Georgaris









    Based on the novel by Richard Condon
    and the screenplay by George Axelrod









            Current revisions by
        Daniel Pyne, August 18, 2003




                                                    IN BLACK:

1   Restless bodies.   Scuffing of feet.   Somebody coughs.       1

                         MARCO'S VOICE

               Approximately sixty four hundred hours
               before Desert Storm, we were on a routine
               recon inside Iraqi-controlled terrain,
               assessing troop strength for what Saddam
               Hussein promised to be the mother of all
               wars ... but turned out to be just a
               little warm up for the whomping he got a
               few years later.

    FADE IN:


2   EXT. DESERT - NIGHT                                           2

    PROWLING ACROSS undulating land dotted with BURNING OIL
    WELLS that give the vague impression of, well, hell. The
    inky sky is awash with stars.

    ON THE CREST OF A DUNE

    A U.S. ARMY BRADLEY FIGHTING VEHICLE and matching HUMMER
    sit, waiting.

                          KUWAIT, 1991

    Muffled THUMP of rap music thrums from the Bradley, and low
    voices stray from the open doors of the Hummer.

                         MARCO (O.S.)

               Why can't we go directly in ...

3   INT./EXT. THE HUMMER - NIGHT                                  3

    A topographical MAP glows on the LCD screen of a laptop
    portable, faintly lighting the faces of CAPT. BEN MARCO and
    his big, gentle, French guide, LAURENT TOKAR.

                         MARCO

                   (pointing)
               ... this way --?

                         LAURENT

               Yes, well -- I see the Captain enjoys the
               road less travelled.
    Marco is seemingly unflappable, completely engaged by life.

                         MARCO

               The Captain enjoys not dragging his ass
               down the highway for every Tom, Dick and
               Qadhafi to take a whack at.
    Laurent swings his finger on the arc of approach.




                                            8/18/03   2.








                    LAURENT

          Well. Of course it is very bad, here.
          And here. And here, here, here, here --

                     MARCO

          Mines?

                      LAURENT

          Tricky.    Swedish-made.

                     MARCO

          Dammit.
He refers to some satellite surveillance maps --

                    MARCO

          Nobody at Command said anything about --

                    LAURENT

          Exxon and Global Petroleum hired private
          contractors to do the work in '86, as
          part of their asset security program.
              (beat)
          Hired an Iraqi firm, in fact, who, now,
          well -- only they know where the little
          Nordic fuckers are planted.

                    MARCO

              (turns away)
          Sgt. Shaw!
No response.
And we RUSH TOWARD: A SOLDIER IN A LAWN CHAIR, face lifted
to the heavens, sitting directly between the two armored
vehicles. This is SGT. RAYMOND PRENTISS SHAW, late
twenties, haunted and aloof.

                    MARCO

              (suddenly behind him)
          Sergeant.

                     RAYMOND

          Sir.

                    MARCO

          Rolling in two minutes.

                     RAYMOND

          Yes sir.
Beat.

                    MARCO

          Everything okay?




                                                  8/18/03   3.








                         RAYMOND

               Yes, Captain. Everything's fine.   Here.
                   (standing up)
               I'll "rally" the troops.

4   INT. THE BRADLEY FIGHTING VEHICLE - NIGHT                     4

    MUSIC blares around eight soldiers, including wiseguy PFC.
    ED MAVOLE, crowded into space designed for four --

                         MAVOLE

               Yo Melvin. You gonna play that hand, or
               hatch it?
    -- CPL. AL MELVIN grunts, then they all look up, almost in
    unison, at Raymond when he swings open the back door. PFC.
    BOBBY BAKER, a slender man, barely eighteen, a driver,
    ejects a CD from the onboard stereo. Silence.

                         RAYMOND

               We're moving out.
    Beat.   He shuts the door again.

5   EXT. THE BRADLEY - NIGHT                                      5

    Raymond waits. Another beat.     Then some LAUGHTER from
    inside the vehicle.
    He shifts his shoulders, walks back into the darkness.

6   OMITTED                                                       6


7   OMITTED                                                       7


8   INT. HUMMER - NIGHT - TRAVELLING                              8

    Marco, bug-like in night goggles, drives the infamous
    Highway of Death -- a macabre landscape of abandoned cars,
    trucks, minivans, shopping baskets, broken wooden pushcarts
    and festering fires; pots and pans and clothes and personal
    belongings are scattered out into the desert on either side
    of the road. Laurent rides shotgun. Raymond is in the
    back, facing forward, rifle at ease.

                           RAYMOND

               Captain?

                           MARCO

               Sergeant?

                         RAYMOND

               Why don't I ever ride in the Bradley with
               the other enlisted personnel?




                                                       8/18/03   4.








                         MARCO

                   (hesitates)
               Maybe I enjoy your company, Sergeant.

                         RAYMOND

               Sir, I don't want to be singled out for
               special treatment because of my mother's
               position --

                         MARCO

               Too late for that, Shaw. As a charter
               member of the Lucky Sperm Club your
               benefits include unlimited suck-up from
               High-ranking Officers hoping to curry
               Congressional favor for their future
               career moves. But. If you want to ride
               in the Bradley, hey, I got no objections.

                         RAYMOND

                   (worried)
               Trust me, sir, I don't wish to ride in
               the Bradley with the others, I'm just ...
                   (beat)
               The men don't care for me very much.

                         MARCO

               No, they don't. But. On the plus side,
               you don't really like them, either.

                         RAYMOND

               That's absolutely correct, Captain.

                            MARCO

               So.   See?    It, you know.   Balances out.

                            LAURENT

               -- Uh-oh.
     Marco follows Laurent's gaze out the side window --

9    NIGHT VISION GOGGLES: JUST OVER A DUNE                           9

     SOLDIERS ON CAMELS slip along like ghosts, pacing the
     Hummer, parallel at maybe fifty yards --

                                                         WHIP PAN

     Through the driver's side window: more of the CAMEL CAVALRY
     tracks with them --

                             MARCO

               Camels.      You gotta be kidding me.

10   BACK TO - HUMMER - MARCO                                         10

     glancing to his rear-view mirror --




                                                 8/18/03    5.








11   IN THE MIRROR - ON THE ROAD BEHIND THEM:                       11

     Two dark trucks converge suddenly out of the darkness, on
     either side of the Bradley Fighting Vehicle --
     They SLAM together in a pincer-wedge just in front of it,
     and the Bradley CRASHES into them -- climbs over them, off-
     balance, and SMASHES DOWN onto the roof of one of the trucks
     and is effectively low-bridged -- tracks spinning, unable to
     move -- DARK FIGURES scurry from the trucks.
12   THE HUMMER -- skids around in a tight 180, stops, facing       12
     back at the helpless Bradley. Automatic weapons fire in
     bursts, bright, and ricochet harmlessly away --
     IN THE HUMMER -- MARCO scrambles up out of his seat, pops
     the roof hatch and screams at Raymond --

                         MARCO

               Take the wheel, Sergeant!

13   EXT. HUMMER - NIGHT                                            13

     -- as Marco emerges to take the handles of the roof-mounted
     machine gun -- drops his NVGs back over his eyes and FIRES
     at the dispersing enemy figures around the Bradley --

14   INT. BRADLEY FIGHTING VEHICLE - NIGHT                          14

     Marco's cover fire RATTLES insanely off the armor --

               MAVOLE                          BAKER

         (screaming)                     (overlapping)

     LOCK AND LOAD! LOCK AND         I CAN'T GET US OFF THIS


     LOAD!                           TRUCK!


                         MELVIN

               Quarter million dollars of U.S. Army
               hardware rat-fucked by a coupla used
               Toyotas.
     He grabs a fire extinguisher and aims it at flames flaring
     from a console of instruments.

15   OMITTED                                                        15


16   OMITTED                                                        16


17   EXT. MARCO'S NIGHT VISION GOGGLES: THE DESERT                  17

     TRACER BULLETS. A lone enemy SOLDIER runs forward lugging a
     personal rocket launcher -- disappears behind a dune --
18   MARCO -- coming off the machine gun, grabbing Raymond's        18
     rifle and rolling toward the back of the Hummer -- as he
     kicks out of the rear door --




                                                    8/18/03   6.








                          MARCO

               Shaw!   Sniper with an RPG!   DON'T STOP!

19   EXT. HUMMER - CONTINUOUS                                           19

     -- Marco is firing before his feet touch the ground.

20   NIGHT VISION GOGGLES: THE DESERT                                   20

     Rocket Launcher man does a face-plant in the sand.
21   THE BRADLEY -- its rear door HEAVES OPEN and our guys spill        21
     out, coughing, hacking, guns ready.
22   THE HUMMER - SAME TIME -- careens suddenly away, exposing a        22
     surprised Marco -- Raymond has lost control, fishtails into
     a deep trough -- the Hummer lurches onto its side, engine
     racing -- wheels spinning uselessly in air -- stalling --

                         MARCO

               Oh shit, Shaw --
23   ANOTHER ENEMY WITH A ROCKET LAUNCHER -- slides around an           23
     overturned trailer and FIRES:

24   OMITTED                                                            24

25   THE ROCKET hits the Bradley Fighting Vehicle at a slant into       25
     its exposed belly, and the truck EXPLODES -- Marco's team
     scattering, pressing themselves into the sand, covering
     their heads --

                         A BOY'S VOICE

                   (amplified)
               Were you scared?
     THICK DARK SMOKE momentarily blankets the road.    Silence.

     FLASH FORWARD: A YOUNG BOY SCOUT - DAY                             26


26

     waiting for an answer, stares earnestly upward at:

     FLASH FORWARD: MAJOR BEN MARCO - DAY

     behind a podium, in his crisp dress uniform.    His current
     self: older, tired. Lost for a moment.

                         MARCO

               Scared?
                   (long beat)
               You don't really have time to be scared.
     Uneasy rustling of an o.s. audience. Somebody coughs.         An
     air-conditioner KICKS IN, rumbling, becoming --




                                                     8/18/03   7.








27   EXT. THE KUWAITI HIGHWAY - NIGHT - MARCO                        27

     raises his head.   SEES:
     -- the Bradley, in flames.
     -- the Hummer, on its side in the ditch, headlights aglow --
     -- shadows of enemy soldiers, retreating across the dunes.
     -- MILITARY HELICOPTERS materializing out of the smoke and
     darkness ... circling ... NO SOUND --

                         MARCO (V.O.)

               I couldn't hear anything, as I was
               temporarily deaf from the explosion of
               the Bradley ...
     -- SOLDIERS WITH GAS MASKS lean out of the open doors of the
     helicopters and drop GAS CANISTERS down on Marco's team.

                                             IN SLOWING MOTION:

28   MARCO'S SQUAD -- the effect of the gas is immediate: Mavole     28
     collapses in his tracks. Melvin points a gun skyward and
     FIRES a burst that goes harmlessly wide of a helicopter.
     Then he falls on his back. HEAVY, LUMINOUS, YELLOW-ORANGE
     VAPOR swirls across the battle --
     WITH MARCO -- his shirt pulled up over his mouth and nose,
     he wheels to get away from the drifting gas, feet unsteady.
     Grabs a dazed Bobby Baker by the collar --

                         MARCO

               I got your back, Baker.   I got ...
     -- and tries to pull him to safety ... knees buckling ... he
     looks up:
29   MARCO'S P.O.V. - THE HUMMER -- is no   longer stalled on its    29
     side in the ditch, but improbably is   righted again, back on
     four wheels and attacking. A vision    of Raymond behind the
     machine gun, firing at the advancing   enemy --
     WITH MARCO -- trying to process this.    Coughing.   Fading.

30   OMITTED                                                         30


     FLASH FORWARD: MAJOR BEN MARCO                                  31


31

     Behind the podium.   Takes a sip of water, then:

                         MARCO

               -- and with complete disregard for his
               own life and safety, Sgt. Shaw single-
               handedly engaged an entire company of the
               enemy --




                                                  8/18/03   8.








     FLASH FORWARD: MAJOR MARCO

     Behind the podium, repeating himself:

                         MARCO

               -- of the enemy --

32   EXT. KUWAITI TWO-LANE - NIGHT                                  32

     The Hummer weaves through the wreckage, one of its tires
     WHIRLING IN FLAMES -- Raymond has the machine gun SPITTING
     BULLETS recklessly at the helicopters like a cartoon hero --

33   RESUME: MARCO                                                  33


                         MARCO

                   (rote)
               Sgt. Shaw repeatedly attacked from a
               mobile position, confounding the enemy --

34   EXT. KUWAITI TWO-LANE - NIGHT                                  34

     One of the helicopters EXPLODES, the other spins away,
     trailing smoke and flames.

                         MARCO (V.O.)

               -- neutralizing his aerial support --

     RESUME: MARCO                                                  35


35

     Behind the podium.

                         MARCO

               -- and finally dividing and defeating an
               overwhelmingly superior force.

36   INT. HIGH SCHOOL AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS                       36

     A Boy Scout luncheon banquet.

                         WASHINGTON D.C., NOW

     A full chicken buffet table, banners, flags, and over one
     hundred SCOUTS, LEADERS and DADS, all looking somewhat
     attentively up at the guest speaker, U.S. Army Major Ben
     Marco.

                         MARCO

               Like Edmonds in Korea, Holderman in Viet
               Nam, Raymond Shaw was awarded the
               Congressional Medal of Honor. I signed
               the recommendation myself.
     A hand shoots up.    Marco nods toward it.




                                                   8/18/03   9.








                           ANOTHER SCOUT

                 Were you wounded?

                            MARCO

                 I was --

FB36   FLASH: MARCO ON THE KUWAITI TWO-LANE                        FB36

       Turning away from the overturned Humvee, and right into a
       head-high rifle-butt swung by the hands and arms of a gas
       mask-wearing figure.

       RESUME - AUDITORIUM - MARCO

       He blinks.

                           MARCO

                 -- injured. I fell, had a, uh,
                 concussion -- lost focus -- Sgt. Shaw
                 took command --
       A disheveled man comes into the back of the room noisily,
       as:

                           SCOUT DAD

                 Did your unit sustain any casualties?

                            MARCO

                 Yes.   Two. Two of my people were killed.
       Silence. No more questions. The disheveled man (MELVIN)
       coughs. Marco pointedly ignores him.

                           MARCO

                 The Medal of Honor is the highest award
                 to which any soldier can aspire. From
                 the jungles of Iwo Jima to the desert of
                 Kuwait, what these brave men I've talked
                 about today did will never be forgotten.
                 Since 1917, only 827 medals have been
                 given to a total of more than 30 million
                 Americans in arms. Only three have been
                 awarded in the last 40 years. Who knows?
                 Maybe someday one of you fine boys will
                 earn one yourself in defense of this
                 great nation.
       A SCOUTMASTER, thin, bearded, stands up:

                           SCOUTMASTER

                 Major Marco, on behalf of Troops 484 and
                 488 -- just like to thank you, for coming
                 to talk to us, about the Medal of Honor,
                 and your interesting experiences in the
                 Armed Services.




                                                   8/18/03   10.








                          MARCO

               Thanks for listening. My family has
               claimed the Army as a trade ever since a
               young gunnery officer who grew up with
               Hernando De Soto left Spain for a look at
               the upper Mississippi.
                   (beat)
               My life is in service to my country.

                         MELVIN

               You ever wish it'd been you?

                         MARCO

               Excuse me?

                         MELVIN

               Won the medal. Been the hero.
     Something causes Marco to hesitate.   Then, as if he'd
     rehearsed it:

                         MARCO

               No, I'm just proud to have been there.
     He sits down.   Spattering of polite applause.

37   INT. H.S. AUDITORIUM ENTRANCE - LATER                          37

     The luncheon is breaking up. A couple of scouts chase each
     other through the clusters of men. Marco's leaving. Men
     stop him to shake his hand and thank him for coming.

                         MELVIN

               Major Marco.
     Marco turns, stares blankly into the eyes of the bedraggled-
     looking man, who half-salutes.

                         MELVIN

               It's Al Melvin, Sir. Corporal Melvin.
               From your unit. Desert Storm.
     Marco stares hard. Melvin looks like a homeless guy, his
     clothes rumpled, his fingernails stained and broken, his
     eyes wild with fatigue and paranoia.

                          MARCO

               Melvin.   Jesus -- how are you --

                         MELVIN

                   (intense)
               I have these dreams, Major.

                          MARCO

               Dreams.




                                               8/18/03   11.








                     MELVIN

           Yeah. Kuwait. You and me. Mavole, and
           Baker. Raymond Shaw.
               (beat)
           See, I remember it happened the way you
           just said. And then I don't.

                     MARCO

           Well, we had a pretty rough time over
           there, Al, it was hairy, and -- it was a
           long time ago, now. Memories shift.

                     MELVIN

           Do you have dreams, sir?

                     MARCO

           Everybody has dreams, Corporal --

                     MELVIN

           Not these.
Beat.   Marco stares at him.

                     MARCO

           No I don't.
Melvin's face falls, disappointed. Fumbling in his clothes,
he finds a SPIRAL NOTEBOOK, dog-eared, and fat with
newspaper clippings -- tries to press it into Marco's hands.

                     MELVIN

           It's bad, sir. It's making me crazy. I
           write it down, every night, after I wake
           up, I try to get it all -- it doesn't
           always go together -- all of what I can
           remember, and --

                     MARCO

               (gentle)
           -- Al, you know, maybe you should be
           going to the VA and talking to a doctor,
           I mean if these dreams are really --

                     MELVIN

           -- I've been to doctors!
The notebook DROPS BETWEEN THEM, and PAGES SCATTER on the
floor. Both men go down to collect them --

                     MELVIN

           I'm so stuck, sir. I mean -- I remember
           Shaw saving us, but it does not make
           sense -- it should have been you. And
           Shaw, he --




                                                 8/18/03   12.








                         MARCO

               Well, that's -- it's over and done.
               We've got to move on --
     -- Marco rocks back on his heels as he stares down at a
     SKETCHY PORTRAIT OF AN ARABIC WOMAN whose face is covered
     with intricate designs -- Marco stares curiously, as if he
     recognizes her --

                         MELVIN

               I can't get my hand around it. I thought
               maybe, if you had the dreams ...

                         MARCO

                   (shaken)
               You need money --?

                          MELVIN

               No.   No sir.
     Self-conscious (people are staring) Melvin shoves the
     notebook back inside his jacket.

                         MARCO

               -- here --
     Marco already digging for a crumpled twenty.    Melvin waves
     it off, backing away, suddenly pissed.

                         MELVIN

               I don't need your money.

                          MARCO

               Okay.   Okay. Well, look, Al, I gotta --

                          MELVIN

               Go.

                         MARCO

               -- run, yeah. But.
                   (awkward)
               It was great seeing you.   And good luck
               to you.
     Melvin just scowls sadly at Marco. Flash of glass, a door
     opens and closes, and Marco is gone.

38   EXT. H.S. PARKING LOT - DAY                                    38

     Marco is motionless in his car, head resting against the
     steering wheel. He straightens up, with a thousand-yard
     stare. His hands are trembling. Slowly, he grips the
     steering wheel ... tighter and tighter ... until the
     trembling stops.




                                                    8/18/03   13.








39     INT. SUPERMARKET - CHECK-OUT COUNTER - NIGHT                      39

       A pretty CASHIER (ROSIE) empties Marco's basket: bottled
       water, three romance novels, a bottle of No-Doz, a bag of
       tomatoes and two dozen boxes of instant noodles.

40     INT. APARTMENT BUILDING - CORRIDOR - NIGHT                        40

       Marco comes up the stairs with his groceries. An ELDERLY
       WOMAN sticks her head out from her apartment door:

                             WOMAN

                   -- Thirty seven.
       Marco stops, looks at her blankly.

                             WOMAN

                   From the landing. Every week it gets
                   longer. I'm worried about you.
       He takes the romance novels out of his grocery bag and hands
       them to her.

                             MARCO

                   From the landing. Every week it gets
                   longer. I'm worried about you.
       He takes the romance novels out of his grocery bag and hands
       them to her.

                             MARCO

                   None of these involve slave traders or
                   sheiks, Abby. I checked.

                             WOMAN

                       (blushes)
                   What do I owe you?

                               MARCO

                       (sad)
                   A smile.
       She does.

41     INT. MARCO'S STUDIO APARTMENT - NIGHT                             41

       He enters, and a visible exhaustion overtakes him.     He turns
       on the t.v., and sags to the sofa bed, drained.

       BEHIND HIM - ON A BULLETIN BOARD:

       yellowing newspaper clippings and wire photographs of
       Raymond Shaw. SENATOR'S SON SAVES UNIT IN KUWAIT. "LOST

       PATROL" FOUND AFTER THREE DAYS IN DESERT; ALL BUT TWO


       SURVIVE ORDEAL. SHAW RECEIVES NATION'S HIGHEST HONOR. GULF


       HERO HONORED AT WHITE HOUSE DINNER. SHAW WINS N.Y.


       CONGRESSIONAL SEAT; WILL BE YOUNGEST MEMBER OF HOUSE ...

       Marco's not letting anything go.

TV41   ON THE TELEVISION                                             TV41

       News coverage, the crowded floor of a political convention:




                                                  8/18/03    14.








                           ROVING REPORTER

                 -- with public anxiety rekindled by the
                 events of Bloody Friday, with the war on
                 terror marching into yet another year, no
                 end in sight --

       MARCO

       Yawns -- his eyelids flutter -- he shudders awake, digs in
       his grocery bag for the No Doz and shakes out half a dozen.
       Which he swallows dry.

                           ROVING REPORTER

                 -- the American people are looking for a
                 new agenda -- but because this party
                 remains deeply divided on so many issues,
                 the choice of a vice presidential nominee
                 may be the key unifying factor for the
                 delegates of this convention in much the
                 way Johnson helped Kennedy in 1960 ...
       Then he's up on his feet, moving to the kitchen through the
       small, cramped space overflowing with books, unopened boxes
       from Amazon.com and Barnes and Noble.

42     INT. MARCO'S APARTMENT - LATER                                 42

       Marco sits at a clearing on the tiny kitchen table, eating
       instant noodles and trying to read Prizzi's Honor.

TV42                       VOICE/JORDAN                              TV42

                     (on the t.v.)
                 We need to look inward -- attend to our
                 own house -- the danger to our country is
                 not from some terrorists at large --
                 terrorists we've helped engender with
                 twenty years of failed foreign policy --
       An open cabinet door behind Marco reveals ROWS AND ROWS OF
       INSTANT NOODLES in the cupboard.

       ON THE TELEVISION

       News coverage, the crowded floor of a political convention.
       A poised, silvery, avuncular man, SENATOR THOMAS JORDAN
       (according to the title on the screen) on the podium:

                           JORDAN

                 -- no, the real danger is from suspending
                 civil liberties, gutting the Bill of
                 Rights, allowing our fear to destroy our
                 democratic ideals --

43     INT. HOTEL SUITE - NIGHT                                       43

       The same speech continues, largely ignored by Congressman
       RAYMOND PRENTISS SHAW. Still intense and moody, the new




                                                  8/18/03     15.







       Raymond Shaw's suit is expensive and crisp, his hair
       perfect. He's playing solitaire. And winning.

                           RAYMOND

                     (murmurs)
                 ... I am not a professional politician.
                 I am not a professional politician ...

TV43                       JORDAN (T.V.)                             TV43

                 -- because once we start overturning our
                 constitutional protections, our enemies
                 have won.

                           RAYMOND

                 ... I am ... a professional politician.
                 Not.
       KNOCKING on his door -- it opens, and Secret Service AGENT
       EVAN ANDERSON removes his key while SEN. ELEANOR SHAW,
       pretty and ageless, sweeps in -- closing the door on her
       aide (GILLESPIE) --

                           ELLIE

                 Raymond? Darling, what were you going to
                 do, make me stand out there like room
                 service?
       -- soft curves conceal razor claws and titanium backbone --
       she kisses her son on the lips, straightens his collar, his
       tie, lets her hands smooth his shirt to his chest for a
       little too long, and never stops talking:

                           ELLIE

                 I asked downstairs and Miss Freeman, your
                 'wrangler' -- helpful Ms. Freeman -- said
                 you were up here practicing your speech.
                 Honestly, I don't understand why you
                 insist upon isolating yourself, people
                 adore you, Raymond, they crave your
                 company and yet here you are, holed up,
                 as if you were some kind of emotionally
                 challenged individual like your father
                 instead of Raymond Prentiss Shaw, a
                 handsome, intelligent, people-loving war
                 hero with a great deal to offer to his
                 party and his country.

                           RAYMOND

                 No.

                           ELLIE

                 No what? Baby, I haven't even asked you
                 a question. Your hair is too flat. And
                 that tie. The tie is wrong.




                                           8/18/03    16.








                    RAYMOND

          No to the question you're going to ask.
          No to all the questions you pretend to
          want to ask --

                    ELLIE

              (the tie)
          Something a little less busy.

                    RAYMOND

          -- and no you may not engage in your
          usual back-door political thuggery to
          shovel me onto the presidential ticket.

                    ELLIE

          Oh. You're not interested? I thought
          you were. Did I miss my cue?

                    RAYMOND

          Of course I'm interested -- I wouldn't be
          here if I wasn't -- but not if it means
          attacking the reputation of a statesman
          like Thomas Jordan, which I'm sure was
          your plan. Let democracy run its course,
          mother. Let the people decide.
Now Ellie stares at him, mouth agape.

                      RAYMOND

          What.

                    ELLIE

          I'm sorry, for a second there I thought
          it was your father speaking -- that
          dreaded Shaw blood rising -- and the
          stink of defeat made me nauseous.

                      RAYMOND

          Mother --

                    ELLIE

          And excuse me, when have I ever attacked
          the honorable Mr. Jordan, despite the
          shameful way his daughter misled you that
          summer at the shore.

                    RAYMOND

          Mother, you chased her away --

                    ELLIE

          If that's how you want to remember it.

                    RAYMOND

          -- you ruined everything.




                                                   8/18/03   17.








                           ELLIE

                 Honey, you're oversimplifying things
                 somewhat -- but, yes, okay -- I promise,
                 promise I will stay out of it. You have
                 my word.
       Raymond stares at her.

                           ELLIE

                 After all, you're young and you have
                 plenty of party conventions ahead of you
                 in which to discover, as your father did,
                 that democracy is an elusive and
                 imperfect science, and the meek do not
                 happily inherit the earth, but simply get
                 eaten by the alpha dogs, chewed up,
                 digested and deposited on the carefully
                 mown parkways of American politics.
       Raymond rolls his eyes.   She ruffles his hair again, heads
       into the bedroom.

                           ELLIE (O.S.)

                 One day, you will, I'm sure, tearfully
                 memorialize me in your acceptance speech.
                 Don't you have a different tie in here?
                 Your grandfather always let me pick his
                 ties.
       Raymond smooths his hair back down.

                           RAYMOND

                 I'm wearing the one I have on.
       No response.

44     CLOSE - CONVENTION PODIUM - NIGHT (TELEVISED VIDEO)            44

       Raymond is speaking. His tie is different. So is he: now
       he exudes a telegenic warmth and vivacity, his manner
       confident, easy, open.

TV44                       RAYMOND                                   TV44

                 I've always said I am not a professional
                 politician, although I hold, and have
                 been held -- well, hugged -- in elected
                 office --
                     (a winning smile:)
                 -- you all know my mother, Senator
                 Eleanor Prentiss Shaw ...
       A CHORUS of cheers, and appreciative laughter -- he's won
       them over already --




                                                  8/18/03    18.








45     INT. MARCO'S APARTMENT - NIGHT                                 45

       Marco, on the sofa, stares hard at the televised Raymond
       Shaw, as:

TV45                       RAYMOND/T.V.                              TV45

                 ... and some of you no doubt remember my
                 father ... the late Senator John Shaw.
                     (he seems to want to say
                      more, but doesn't)
                 I've been honored to serve my two terms
                 in Congress. But I also grew up on the
                 Hill. I've seen how the game is played
                 by professionals --
       Marco reaches for his steaming cup of coffee, his eyes never
       leaving the screen -- he just doesn't get this at all --

46     INT. CONVENTION HALL - BACK STAGE                              46

       Ellie in the f.g., intently watching a monitor while, in the
       deep b.g., slightly out of focus, we can SEE Raymond
       speaking, and his convention audience beyond ...

TV46                       RAYMOND                                   TV46

                 -- how deals are struck, committees
                 bullied, agendas bought and sold -- and,
                 with apologies to my mother, I wish to
                 remain an amateur. I believe democracy
                 is not negotiable. We need to secure
                 tomorrow, today.
       Ellie shakes her head fondly, and begins to move away as

       CROWD ROARS --


47     CONVENTION CENTER CORRIDOR, BACK STAGE - CONTINUOUS            47

       TRACKING with Ellie and Gillespie and his two aides, and a
       posse of three other FORMIDABLE-LOOKING POLITICIANS through
       a hallway crowded with NETWORK CAMERA CREWS, STRAY
       DELEGATES, HIGH SCHOOL MARCHING BAND members and a complete
       DRILL TEAM in red-white-and-blue sequined leotards, as:

                             ELLIE

                 Bluffing?

                           GILLESPIE

                 That was the inference.
       Raymond's speech echoes incoherently through the corridor.

                           ELLIE

                 They should be down on their fat white
                 knees thanking me for saving this party
                 from committing political seppuku.




                                                8/18/03     19.








                         CONGRESSMAN HEALY

               You gave them every opportunity to do the
               right thing, Senator.

                         ELLIE

                   (glances at him)
               No. I gave them one opportunity. And
               that was unusually generous of me.
     She pushes through a door, and into --

48   INT. CONVENTION BACK ROOM - CONTINUOUS                       48

     Raymond's speech plays, low, on a television, and half a
     dozen DELEGATES and POWER PLAYERS with "Arthur For
     President" buttons grimly watch Ellie breeze in. Party
     Chairman VAUGHN UTLY anticipates her:

                         UTLY

               The decision is final, Senator. Tom
               Jordan is on the ticket. We don't need
               your blessing, but we'd like it.

                         ELLIE

                   (smiling:)
               Before we get started, I'm dying to know:
               which genius here hatched the scheme of
               pairing a Sound Bite from Nebraska with a
               relic who thinks keeping suicide bombers
               off our busses is unconstitutional?

                         UTLY

               All the research indicates that an Arthur-
               Jordan ticket sits quite well with the
               American public and --

                         ELLIE

               'Sits quite well' translates into how
               many votes?

                         SENATOR WELLS

               Your son is largely unknown outside of
               New York. His public service, his
               Congressional record, while commendable,
               is --

                         ELLIE

               My son is a war hero.

                         CONGRESSMAN FLORES

                   (cheerful)
               Governor Arthur has agreed to consider
               Raymond for a cabinet post.
     A cold silence.   Ellie stands --




                                           8/18/03    20.








                    ELLIE

          We didn't come here to have a discussion.

          UTLY                            ELLIE

Senator --                          (to her posse)
                                Did we come here to have a
                                discussion?

                    SENATOR WELLS

          Ellie, you don't have the votes to block
          this, or even push the nomination to a
          second ballot.

                    ELLIE

              (ignores him)
          Even running against this cut-and-fold
          vice president, with his party's record
          of abysmal failure at home and abroad,
          Arthur is still unelectable without help.
              (cold, hard logic:)
          Consider. The Governor is a corn-belt
          candidate who -- scratch and sniff --
          looks and smells alot like the kind of
          liberal-labor-intellectual Dukakis was,
          but without, thank God, the helmet.
              (beat)
          Assume our intrepid Arthur can carry the
          Northeast, plus his home ground, and
          California. We're still dead in the
          South, and Southwest, where they win by
          landslides. The mid-central is a toss-
          up. Tom Jordan actually becomes a
          liability in Florida because of his
          Castro-appeasement profile, and in the
          Carolinas, where he fumbles the military
          vote over his "terrorism isn't a war it's
          a social disease" nonsense.
The room is surreally silent. Ellie spins and moves like a
televangelist, preaching to the frightened faithful.

                    ELLIE

          You know this. Your own polls and
          surveys back me up.
              (beat)
          You're counting on Jordan to help you get
          the black vote, women, college kids -- my
          gut instinct says he won't -- and Arthur
          holding the center -- where he's soft at
          best. And who's to say the President
          won't throw troops into another third-
          world skirmish, pushing his sidekick's
          approval ratings up into the eighties
          again, and the campaign off the front
          pages?




                                                8/18/03    21.








                         UTLY

               We're confident this is a winning ticket,
               Ellie.

                         ELLIE

               What's your margin of error? Five
               points? Three?
                   (beat)
               I can swing that, and you know it. I can
               swing seven away from you -- more than
               enough to split the party and --

                         SENATOR WELLS

                   (over her)
               -- and deny us the White House for four
               more years? No. Not even you would do
               that, Senator. You're bluffing.
     Ellie stares at them. OUTSIDE, SUDDENLY: the marching band
     begins playing "It's a Grand Old Flag," and hurries out onto
     the ROARING convention floor ...

                         ELLIE

               America is facing the greatest test of
               its history, gentlemen. Not just from
               terrorist organizations both outside and
               within our borders, but from covert
               alliances of disaffected nations so
               terrified of winding up on our shit list
               they believe the only way to protect
               themselves is to hit us with everything
               they can find before we get around to
               them. Am I the only one in this room
               paying attention to the NSA reports? We
               are on the brink of nuclear cataclysm, on
               our own soil, while our policies remain
               shackled by Jordan-style One Worlders who
               insist that human beings are essentially
               Good ... and that Power is something
               shameful, and Evil.
                   (then)
               Make no mistake, the people of this great
               country are frightened. They know what's
               coming. They can feel it. And we can
               shovel them the same old shit and call it
               sugar, or arm them, with a young,
               vibrant, populist congressman, a war hero
               with heart -- forged by enemy fire, in
               the desert, in the dark, when American
               lives hung in the balance.

49   INT. CONVENTION FLOOR - NIGHT (VIDEO)                          49

     One of Ellie's back-room adversaries at the microphone, as
     balloons fall and the crowd CHEERS:




                                                   8/18/03   22.








TV49                       SENATOR WELLS                             TV49

                 -- proud to offer into nomination the
                 name of the next vice president of these
                 United States, RAYMOND SHAAAWWWWWW --!
       Happy bedlam.

50     INT. MARCO'S STUDIO APARTMENT - NIGHT                          50

       The images on the television flicker across Marco, who
       stares with apparent disbelief at the coverage:

TV50                       NEWSCASTER #1                             TV50

                 ... a remarkable development --

TV50A ON THE PODIUM - RAYMOND (VIDEO)                               TV50A

       Hands held high, linked with the presidential candidate,
       ROBERT ARTHUR who is clearly eclipsed by Raymond's youth,
       his heroic good looks, his natural charisma ...

                           REPORTER #1

                     (from the convention floor)
                 -- like a long shot catching the favorite
                 on the back stretch of the Derby ...
TV50B A STACCATO FLURRY OF IMAGES -- Raymond and his mother, newsTV50B
      clips, still photos -- appear behind a MAJOR MEDIA ICON:

                           MEDIA ICON

                 Raymond Shaw bears the lineage of the
                 fabled Prentiss family dynasty --
                 grandson of legendary industrialist and
                 diplomat Tyler Prentiss, son of
                 controversial Senator Eleanor Prentiss
                 Shaw, who took over the seat vacated by
                 her husband, the esteemed John Shaw, when
                 he died tragically over twenty years ago.
       Marco taking it all in --

                           MEDIA ICON

                 For many, Raymond Prentiss Shaw is an
                 enigma: millionaire Harvard honors
                 student who enlists in the military --
       INTERCUT: NEWS FILE FOOTAGE of Raymond's personal history:

                           MEDIA ICON

                 -- refusing the officer's commission to
                 which he was entitled. The Medal of
                 Honor winner beloved by the men of the
                 'Lost Patrol' he saved from an enemy
                 ambush, and then guided back across the
                 open desert to safety --




                                                    8/18/03    23.








TV50C                       CPL. MELVIN IN 1992                      TV50C

                      (Gulf War news archive,
                       after the squad was
                       rescued)
                  Sgt. Shaw? Hell, he's probably the
                  kindest, bravest, warmest, most selfless
                  human being I've ever known.
        Marco reacts to the image of Melvin from ten years ago:
        young, engaging, eyes alive -- Marco's lips move in sync
        with words of Melvin's statement ('bravest, warmest'
        'selfless' 'ever known') -- as if he knows it by heart --
        his mind shifting --

                            MEDIA ICON

                  The war hero who dedicated himself to
                  public service after Desert Storm ...
        PUSH IN on Marco.   His eyes distant, glazed -- tranced:

                            MEDIA ICON

                  ... the revolutionary science of bio-
                  genetics, which has, literally --

51      PUSH IN ON THE TELEVISION: TIGHT - A RED SUPERTOMATO           51

        now commands the screen, plump and glistening in an olive-
        skinned hand decorated with intricate henna tattoos --

                            WOMAN'S VOICE

                  -- transformed the common garden tomato,
                  through genome-level intervention, from
                  that fragile, fickle, vulnerable fruit
                  one must struggle to simply nurture to
                  maturity --
        -- the supertomato slowly bisects itself -- opening, oozing
        viscous red liquid -- revealing an inner structure far more
        suggestive of the human brain than any tomato we've ever
        seen before.

                            WOMAN'S VOICE

                  -- into a resilient, dependable,
                  categorically superior individual in
                  every conceivable way --
        -- moving through
52      MARCO'S DREAMSCAPE -- where the MYSTERIOUS ARABIC WOMAN from   52
        Melvin's drawings -- henna tattoos on her face, as well as
        her hands -- thick, blood-red pulp of the supertomato
        dripping between her fingers -- glides dreamily across
        intricate, sun-bleached tile work through a gathering of
        similarly clothed Arabic WOMEN. A few OLDER, ARABIC MEN are
        off to one side, expressionless, hands in pockets.




                                                8/18/03     24.








                         MYSTERIOUS WOMAN

               -- strappingly resistant to parasite,
               disease, over-ripening and systemic
               failure -- while, at the same time,
               fiercely heat and water tolerant --
     IMPRESSIONS of soldiers -- MEMBERS of Marco's squad -- flak
     jackets and BDUs, rifles at ease, some squatting, some
     leaning against the wall ... Cpl. Al Melvin preternaturally
     engrossed in the presentation ...
     We hear a SANDSTORM raging outside, causing LONG DRAPERIES
     to FLUTTER and POP! like sails ... STRONG IMPRESSIONS of
     PFCs ED MAVOLE and BOBBY BAKER ...

                         MYSTERIOUS WOMAN

               -- yet -- note the complexity of the
               frontal lobe -- nevertheless retaining a
               sweet, juicy plumpness reminiscent of the
               finest English Beefsteak or Italian Plum.
     IMPRESSIONS of the American Flag. IMPRESSIONS of SGT.
     RAYMOND SHAW -- he waits for the mysterious woman like an
     obedient schoolboy, dutifully holding his SERVICE REVOLVER
     in his hand.

                         MYSTERIOUS WOMAN

               Those of you with ties to the
               Intelligence community may recall the
               CIA's misguided MK-ULTRA program, the
               KGB's Novichok research, and similar half-
               assed ventures in Great Britain and China
               -- under the lay term of 'mind control.'

53   OMITTED                                                        53


54   OMITTED                                                        54

55   The Bedouin women begin to make a spooky trilling sound,       55
     their ZAGHAREET -- as the mysterious woman's voice starts to
     MORPH into a MAN'S VOICE:

                         MYSTERIOUS WOMAN

               Street-corner schizophrenics with tin
               foil on their heads offer sad proof of
               the failure of those endeavors.
     She smiles, creepy, puts a hand on Raymond's shoulder --

                         MYST. W./NOYLE'S VOICE

               I can assure you, this is a whole new
               ball game.

                                                        SWERVE:





                                                  8/18/03   25.







     MARCO -- is here, too -- his head wrapped in a bandage, he's
     wearing hospital greens. WIRES AND TUBES are rigged to his
     head, chest, arms and legs like some HIGH-TECH MARIONETTE --
     -- all coiling up into the shadows of the high ceiling, into
     thicker cables and tubes beneath which robotic BRACKET ARMS
     adjust, whirring softly, with his every movement ... he's
     drugged to the gills, jerking with spasms as low voltage
     electricity courses through his brain ...
     ... and the women's shrill zaghareet PEAKS --

                         NOYLE (O.S.)

               Captain Marco --

     DR. ATTICUS NOYLE

     the mysterious Arabic woman has become the sleek, Caucasian
     scientist, ATTICUS NOYLE, whose oddly accented English is
     flawless:

                         NOYLE

               -- when you're rescued and returned with
               your patrol to command headquarters, what
               will be among the first duties you will
               undertake?
56   ON MARCO all rigged up with his wires --                       56

                         MARCO

               I'll recommend Sergeant Shaw for the
               Medal of Honor, ma'am. He saved our
               lives, terminated the enemy and led us
               across the desert to safety.
     Now the dreamscape visuals seem REAR-PROJECTED on luminous,
     rippling white fabric ... the Bedouin people, tomato/brain
     images, the mystery woman, appear as TWO-DIMENSIONAL FILMED
     IMAGES, flickering across draperies ...

                         NOYLE

               Yes. Brilliant.   But there were
               casualties?

                         MARCO

               There are always casualties, ma'am.
     ... the DREAM SOUNDS (wind, fabric, women chanting) emanate
     from audio speakers, the sandstorm's wind caused by huge,
     moveable FANS ...
     ... IMPRESSION of an OLD MAN shaking a percussive gourd,
     mesmerizing ...
     ... IMPRESSIONS of the squad all rigged up like Marco, with
     tubes and wires ... Laurent glides behind them -- lab coat,
     SURGICAL GLOVES on his hands ...




                                                  8/18/03   26.







     A collection of remote cameras on scaffolding and tripods
     BUZZ and WHIR as they swivel to follow him.

                         NOYLE

               Here, then, are ten subject soldiers in a
               clinically-induced functional fugue
               state. Hyperdelusional that they've been
               bivouacked in a small caravansary to wait
               out a sandstorm.
     Marco blinks: sees the mysterious Arabic woman dressed in
     Noyle's simple suit.

                         MYSTERIOUS WOMAN

                   (smiles)
               A simple Pavlovian parlor trick.
     SNAPPING of fabric, the wind gets louder.
57   MARCO -- looks around -- no more tubes or wires, and NOYLE   57
     is now a PROJECTED IMAGE on the fabric. The dreamscape is
     bending, smearing ... realities overlapping.

     PUSHING IN ON SPOOKY, HERKY-JERKY, STREAMING-VIDEO-STYLE


     NOYLE IMAGE:


                         NOYLE

               Our Candidate's course of treatment will,
               of course, involve considerably more
               sophisticated intervention over a
               sustained time period, to ensure that a
               stable mechanism is irrevocably in place.
               We employ a kind of neurocellular
               conversion. Psychological abreaction
               through genomic repurposing.
                   (then)
               "But Dr. Noyle, all the literature -- all
               the literature says you cannot make an
               individual act against his deepest moral
               nature -- or his own self interest."
                   (beat)
               Hmmm. Let's see.
                   (then)
               Sgt. Shaw. Ever killed anyone?
     IMPRESSIONS of RAYMOND -- hyper-alert -- frighteningly
     engaged, and agreeable.

                           RAYMOND

               No ma'am.

                         NOYLE

               Not even in combat?

                           RAYMOND

               No ma'am.




                                                     8/18/03   27.








                           NOYLE

                 Brilliant. Casualty time.
       Raymond's wires and tubes float with him as he circles,
       pleasantly exchanging greetings with Marco --

                             RAYMOND

                 Captain.

                             MARCO

                 Sergeant.

                             NOYLE

                 Raymond.    Suffocate Private Mavole.
       IMPRESSION of Raymond thrusting a plastic bag over Mavole's
       head --

                           MAVOLE

                 Whoawhoa -- wait -- wait a sec --
       -- Raymond's hands twist it TIGHTLY -- Mavole's limbs in
       turmoil, hands fluttering, his SHROUDED FACE suffocating in
       the translucent fog of the plastic bag --
       PFC. BOBBY BAKER -- intent upon Raymond's killing of Mavole,
       gaze unwavering, untroubled -- SOUND of the zaghareet,
       peaking --

                           NOYLE (O.S.)

                 And at the instant he completes this, or
                 any task, Raymond has already forgotten
                 that he has ever been involved in it.
       RAYMOND SHAW -- all business -- focused and purposeful --
       twists the bag even tighter -- the plastic bag steaming --
       tubes break, spit liquid, blood -- wires SPARK -- while
       Noyle floats through the b.g., a blur --

58     INT. MARCO'S STUDIO APARTMENT - NIGHT                          58

       Marco willing himself awake -- like a man shaking off death
       itself -- the t.v.'s a blurred reflection warped across the
       window glass behind him:

TV58                       NEWSCASTER #2                             TV58

                     (distant)
                 ... Wisconsin makes it official. Raymond
                 Shaw is the vice-presidential nominee ...

59     EXT. SERIES OF SHOTS - WASHINGTON D.C. - DAY                   59

       Monuments, stark and cold. Capitol Hill. Supreme Court.
       The White House. The Lincoln Memorial ... the Pentagon.




                                                    8/18/03   28.








A60   EXT. WALTER REED ARMY HOSPITAL - DAY                           A60

      Establishing, as:

                           LT. COL. HOWARD (O.S.)

                 Taking your meds?

60    INT. WALTER REED HOSPITAL - ARMY SHRINK'S OFFICE - DAY         60

      Marco with LT. COL. HOWARD, a kindly but pedantic Army staff
      psychiatrist, referring to notes:

                           MARCO (O.S.)

                 Yes sir.
                     (beat)
                 No sir.
      Beat.   Howard looks up at Marco.

                           MARCO

                 The meds make me ... spongy.   I float.
                 I'm not sharp --

                           LT. COL. HOWARD

                 The meds help you sleep.

                           MARCO

                 When I sleep, I dream.   I don't want to
                 dream, sir.

                           LT. COL. HOWARD

                 You're off your meds, sleep-deprived, you
                 have an unexpected encounter with a
                 member of your Gulf War recon team, Al
                 Melvin, who mentions some dreams he's
                 been having --

                           MARCO

                 Dreams like mine.

                           LT. COL. HOWARD

                     (ignores)
                 -- and suddenly your own bad dreams come
                 charging back. Made worse by your
                 chronic fear of them. Add in all the
                 recent campaign news about Congressman
                 Shaw, which is obviously rekindling your
                 feelings of guilt and jealousy --

                           MARCO

                 -- I'm not jealous of Raymond Shaw, sir.

                           LT. COL. HOWARD

                 Okay. How did you feel when you heard
                 the news from the convention?
      Marco shrugs.




                                                 8/18/03   29.








                    LT. COL. HOWARD

          A shrug isn't a feeling.

                    MARCO

          I felt ... fine.     No big deal.

                      LT. COL. HOWARD

          Fine.

                    MARCO

          Yes.
              (almost angry)
          Glad for him. He deserves it. Raymond
          Shaw is probably the kindest, bravest,
          warmest --

          MARCO                              LT. COL. HOWARD

-- most selfless human being       -- most selfless human being
I've ever ...                      you've ever known.
Half a beat --

                    LT. COL. HOWARD

          You're fucking with me, Major.

                       MARCO

          No sir.     I wouldn't do that, sir.

                    LT. COL. HOWARD

          What other conclusion can I draw?
Marco says nothing.    Holding back what he's thinking.

                    LT. COL. HOWARD

          Look, we've been over this a million
          times. Until you forgive yourself for
          what happened that night in Kuwait, the
          loss of your men -- for what you did, for
          what you didn't do ...
No reaction from Marco.    The Lt. Colonel sighs.

                    LT. COL. HOWARD

          How's Public Affairs?

                    MARCO

          It sucks, sir. I want to get back to
          Intelligence.

                    LT. COL. HOWARD

          Then for God's sake, Ben, go back on your
          meds. And stay on them, this time. Get
          some sleep. I'll see you in two weeks.

                      MARCO

          Yes sir.    Same time, same station.




                                                  8/18/03   30.







     Marco starts to get up --

                         LT. COL. HOWARD

               And stay the hell away from television.

61   OMITTED                                                       61


62   OMITTED                                                       62


63   INT./EXT. D.C. BOTANICAL GARDENS - DAY                        63

     Festive champagne brunch. Lush indoor foliage. The Capitol
     Dome visible in the b.g. Huge, graphic banners declaim the
     campaign slogan: SECURE TOMORROW and the ticket: ARTHUR-

     SHAW.

     An elegant ALL-WOMAN HARP ORCHESTRA plays new-age patriotic
     music, and a thick crowd of WEALTHY PARTY INNER CIRCLE
     members jostle between elegant food stations, or cue up for
     thirty seconds with presidential-hopeful Robert Arthur.

     MOVING WITH - MARCO

     who has two retired, old bastard Generals in his company,
     stars gleaming on their shoulders. Marco's eyes scan the
     room; he's a man on a mission:

                         GENERAL SLOAN

               No offense, Major, but it chaps my ass we
               gotta have a babysitter.

                         MARCO

               Sir, I'm just here to keep you from
               getting into fist-fights with the Navy
               guys.
     The old generals laugh, appreciate this.    Marco stops --
     eureka -- he's found his target:

     MARCO'S P.O.V. - ACROSS THE HUGE ROOM - RAYMOND

     holding side-show vice-presidential court for some enamored
     young women and their banker husbands. SECRET SERVICE
     agents, including his everpresent Anderson, maintaining a
     careful perimeter.

                         GENERAL WILSON (O.S.)

               Major Marco --

     MARCO AND THE GENERALS

     Marco forced to pull his gaze away from Raymond:

                         GENERAL WILSON

               -- this Army of Two's gonna do some recon
               on the no host bar.




                                             8/18/03    31.








                      MARCO

            Right behind you, sirs.
Whereupon

SENATOR ELEANOR SHAW

powers through with Gillespie and a couple of our media
FLAKS, giving them an earful:

                      ELLIE

            -- billions of dollars, thousands of
            troops, sacrificed on behalf of a
            disastrous foreign policy which has only
            served to galvanize our enemies --

          ELLIE                             MARCO

Excuse us please --               Whoa --
FOR AN INSTANT Ellie and Marco lock eyes -- then the crowd
swallows her again --

                      GENERAL WILSON

            They oughta put up a crossing guard.

                      GENERAL SLOAN

            Or rig her with an air horn.

WITH RAYMOND

-- distractedly staring at a pretty young woman (JOCELYN
JORDAN) near the entrance.

                      RAYMOND

                (to the bankers and wives)
            I mean -- that's supposed to be the whole
            point of this great country, isn't it?
            That everybody matters. Not just the
            people at this party -- no offense -- but
            the people who can't afford to be here.

                      ELLIE

                (arriving:)
            Raymond --
                (to the couples)
            -- sorry to interrupt --
But she's not.   Slipping her arm through his and steering
him away...

                      ELLIE

            You must learn not to let yourself get
            cornered by the bottom-feeders.

                      RAYMOND

            Including you?




                                             8/18/03   32.








                    ELLIE

          I devour everything in my path, darling,
          top or bottom, you know that.
...to join a lively group of corporate heavyweights. DAVID
DONOVAN is a man possessed of a commanding presence,
radiating charm, brilliance and stealth. J.B. (JAY)
JOHNSTON is younger than the others, a three-sport letterman
who graduated with distinction from Princeton and happily
works until there's no one left in the office to give
instructions to. MARK WHITING is gracious and warm.

                    ELLIE

          Hello Mark.
Ellie greets Whiting with a fondness she reserves for old
friends -- as a former Tyler Prentiss prot�g�, he now stands
comfortably at the fertile crossroads where big industry
meets big government, and profits soar.

                    WHITING

          Eleanor! Congratulations, Raymond. Your
          grandad would be so goddamn proud of you.

                    RAYMOND

          Nice to see you Mark.   Thanks.
The following flows, overlapping, easy:

                    ELLIE

          -- Raymond, this is J.B. Johnston, from
          Manchurian Global --

                    RAYMOND

          Yes, hi --

                    ELLIE

          -- and David Donovan, their Managing
          Director.

                    RAYMOND

          -- and co-chair of the U.S. International
          Policy Caucus.

          DONOVAN                           ELLIE

One and the same.                     (teasing)
                                  They're desperate to be of
                                  service to you, Raymond.

                    RAYMOND

          Go away, mother. You've earned your fee.
Raymond flashes a dazzling Kennedyesque smile, as the men
chuckle appreciatively.

                    ELLIE

          The plucky idealist.




                                              8/18/03   33.







Ellie glides off, unfazed.    The men banter on:

                    RAYMOND

          Gentlemen, how's business?

                    WHITING

          Good, Raymond. Business is good.

                    JOHNSTON

          Could always be better.

                    RAYMOND

          Careful. Any better, you'll be a
          monopoly.

                    DONOVAN

          There's the challenge. Maximizing the
          market share and potential of a company.

                    WHITING

          Or a country.
Off their shared, collegial laughter --

ACROSS THE ROOM - MARCO - MONETS LATER

watches Raymond take his leave from the Manchurian Global
guys -- while, at the bar, the generals have established
their beachhead of Bloody Marys with a couple of younger men
in NAVY WHITES:

                    REAR ADMIRAL GLICK

          Every great civilization has been
          anchored by a great Navy.

                    GENERAL SLOAN

          Bullshit. You guys are sea chum, ripe
          for some raghead with a rocket launcher
          to put a hole in your bucket.
Marco laughs deliberately, trying to diffuse the tension.

                    MARCO

              (low)
          If you can't behave yourselves, Generals,
          we're gonna spend the rest of the day
          watching the Orioles game back at the
          hotel.
Whereupon Raymond parades past, with his Secret Service
handlers, oblivious to Ben until he calls out.

                    MARCO

          Congressman -- Sergeant Shaw --
Raymond turning, but not stopping --




                                                   8/18/03   34.








                          MARCO

                Ben Marco.

                          RAYMOND

                I know.
                    (strange, dreamy)
                Hello Captain.

               MARCO                              RAYMOND

     It's Major, and --                     (as if it surprises
                                             him:)
                                        I need to talk to you.
     But he keeps walking --

                           MARCO

                -- okay.
     -- Marco frowns, watches Raymond weave through the crowd
     towards Jocie, at the entrance. Marco follows, passing:

     ELLIE AND JORDAN

     locked in fierce, low battle, off to one side, voices hard,
     rising out of the din:

                          JORDAN

                -- the political extortion you committed
                in order to destroy my vice presidential
                bid so that --

                           ELLIE

                Tom.

                          JORDAN

                -- so that you might vicariously bask in
                reflected limelight from your son --

                          ELLIE

                    (overlapping)
                Tom, please, just because the party felt
                a younger, more dynamic man could help
                the ticket, I don't think it's fair for
                you to single me out and --

                          JORDAN

                You know, I have such contempt for you,
                Eleanor, that when I think of you, I
                actually fear for this country. Raymond
                is nothing. A riddle. A wild card at
                worst. But you, you are the smiler who
                wraps her dagger in the cloak of the flag
                and waits for her chance to strike.
                Which I pray will never come.
He wheels away --




                                                 8/18/03   35.








64   OMITTED                                                        64


65   EXT. BOTANICAL GARDENS - ENTRANCE - MARCO                      65

     has found Raymond with Jocie -- outside -- but hangs back --
     overhearing Raymond's earnest and intense conversation with
     Jocie, who is slightly uncomfortable with this but trying to
     make light of it --

                         JOCELYN

               ... but Raymond, my God, it's been so
               many years -- I've been married and
               divorced --

                         RAYMOND

               I've changed too.

                         JOCELYN

               That's not what I -- but, yes, it's
               great, really -- I see that you have --
               congratulations --

                         RAYMOND

               -- But my feelings haven't.   Changed, I
               mean ...
     Jocie starts to say something, is at a loss for words --

                         RAYMOND

               ... I guess I've never stopped -- feeling
               -- wondering -- how it might have turned
               out, you know, between us, if --

                         JOCELYN

                   (overlapping)
               Raymond -- people can't rewrite their
               lives --

                         RAYMOND

               Jocie, I haven't even been with another
               girl since we ... stopped seeing each
               other -- doesn't that say something to
               you?

                         JOCELYN

               That you must be just about the loneliest
               person on earth, and it breaks my heart.
     Raymond is staggered -- doesn't know what to say --

                         JOCELYN

               I've got to go -- good luck with the
               campaign.
     She hurries to a waiting limo -- her father's already inside
     -- Raymond still wants to say something, he wants to stop
     her, but --




                                             8/18/03   36.








                     MARCO (O.S.)

           Sergeant Raymond Shaw --
Raymond turns --

                     RAYMOND

           What?
Marco slides in front of him with a disarming grin.

                     MARCO

           I want to talk to you too.

                     RAYMOND

           -- Not now.

                     MARCO

           -- I know you're busy -- I just have to
           ask you --
He starts to move away, but Marco grabs his arm --

                     MARCO

           I saw Al Melvin the other day -- remember
           Corporal Melvin?
Raymond yanks his arm away --

                     RAYMOND

           Don't touch me.

                     MARCO

           Okay -- sorry -- but -- Melvin, he's
           extremely disturbed about what happened
           to us, on the recon patrol, back in
           Kuwait --

                     RAYMOND

           Don't ever touch me.
Beat.   Marco's eyebrows go up.

                     MARCO

           Sorry.
Raymond's secret service agent, ANDERSON slips himself
between him, smiling politely, easing Marco away:

                     ANDERSON

           Tried the Pad Thai, Major?   I'm told it
           rules.

CLOSE - COLONEL GARRET

tense and unsmiling.




                                                8/18/03    37.








                         COLONEL GARRET

               What were you hoping he'd say?
     We are:

66   INT. PENTAGON - CONFERENCE ROOM - MARCO                     66

     is in a more formal setting -- Lt. Col. Howard is with
     COLONEL GARRET and an enlisted soldier, a WOMAN, taking
     notes --

                         MARCO

               I don't know, sir.
                   (cautious, now)
               It isn't so much what he said, or didn't
               say -- but his demeanor, his attitude.
               Sir, I overheard an exchange he --

                         COLONEL GARRET

                   (talks over this)
               I think you hoped Congressman Shaw would
               say, "yes, Major, I've had those same
               dreams. Tomatoes and sandstorms. You're
               not nuts, there's some crazy shit going
               down here."
     Marco says nothing.

                         COLONEL GARRET

               Major, we've been down this road with you
               before, yes?

                         MARCO

               No, sir, not this road, sir. But I hear
               what you're saying, and I want to do this
               through the proper channels.

                         LT. COL. HOWARD

               Are you back on your meds?

                         MARCO

               Lt. Colonel Howard -- with respect --
               I've had a dozen years of experts telling
               me I've got Gulf War Syndrome, or a
               stress disorder. Twelve years being a
               good soldier, denying what every nerve
               ending in my body tells me is more real
               than not. One dream, over and over. Not
               variations on a dream, the same one,
               night after night after night --

                         LT. COL. HOWARD

               -- Your guilt and your jealousy require
               you to construct this ... elaborate
               fiction, so that you --




                                            8/18/03    38.








           MARCO                           LT. COL. HOWARD

No --                            -- can avoid the truth.

                     MARCO

           -- No sir. Something happened to us, in
           the desert, ten years ago. Not what we
           thought it was. And it happened on my
           watch.
Beat.

                     COLONEL GARRET

           Have you contacted any other members of
           the unit besides Shaw and Melvin? Asked
           them about the dreams?

                     MARCO

               (from notes he's made)
           Owens died of cancer in '97. Villalobos,
           a car crash. Atkins committed suicide.
           Jamison was at the Pentagon, 9-11, body
           never recovered. Wilson I'm still trying
           to track down.
Garret and Howard trade looks.

                     MARCO

           Sir, I know I can't ask you to talk to
           Congressman Shaw, not yet, but Al Melvin,
           it's a phone call, a quick q&a -- look at
           his notebooks, hear what he's been
           dreaming -- and either he will support
           the credibility of what I'm saying, or he
           won't. And I'll shut up.

                     COLONEL GARRET

           And what is it you are saying, exactly,
           Major? That you misrepresented --
           falsified -- what happened In Kuwait?
           About the Medal of Honor? In effect,
           committed perjury.

                     MARCO

           If you just talk to Melvin --

                     COLONEL GARRET

               (ignores)
           -- No, no, I'm sorry -- you're saying an
           entire squad of U.S. Army soldiers was
           hypnotized into believing that Raymond
           Shaw deserved the Medal of Honor. And
           somehow you're the only one who knows the
           truth.
Silence.   Marco looks down at his hands.




                                                   8/18/03    39.








                            COLONEL GARRET

                  Major Marco. You will stay clear of
                  Congressman Shaw.

                             MARCO

                  Yes sir.

                            LT. COL. HOWARD

                  And you will resume your meds, Major.
                  That is an order.

                             MARCO

                  Yes sir.
       Beat.   Marco stands up, to leave, but --

                            COLONEL GARRET

                  Major, do you ever take a step back and
                  consider why you've remained at rank for
                  all these years? Missed Bosnia,
                  Afghanistan, Iraqi Freedom. While men of
                  lesser promise and inferior talent have
                  enjoyed the fruits of those campaigns and
                  moved beyond you?

                            MARCO

                  Every day, sir.

67     INT. STAGE - VICE-PRESIDENTIAL DEBATE (VIDEO)                 67

       FAVOR Raymond, at a podium, his VICE PRESIDENTIAL OPPONENT
       slightly out of focus at his identical podium in the near
       b.g., mid-rebuttal:

TV67                        V.P. OPPONENT                           TV67

                  ... there are still VRF terrorists in
                  Sierra Leone, new terrorist alliances
                  forming in many parts of Asia and South
                  America -- we can't simply, suddenly
                  relinquish our commitment to world
                  leaders who have stood by us.

                            T.V. MODERATOR

                  Congressman Shaw -- your rebuttal?

68     INT. MARCO'S APARTMENT - NIGHT                                68

       Marco on his phone, the t.v. blaring, under:

                            MARCO

                      (on the phone)
                  Hello, Victor? Marco. How's it goin'?
                      (listens)
                  Public affairs sucks, my friend. I miss
                  you guys. Listen, favor: guy from my old
                  unit, Melvin, Alfred R. -- I need an

                            (MORE)





                                                  8/18/03    40.








                           MARCO (CONT'D)

                 address on him, I think he's here in D.C.
                 ... yeah, go ahead.
       Holding, Marco studies the image of Raymond.

TV68                       RAYMOND/T.V.                              TV68

                 -- but meanwhile, somebody's grandmother,
                 in a small American town, is standing in
                 her kitchen -- she's got her medicine
                 bottle in one hand, she's opening the
                 refrigerator with the other. And she's
                 thinking: I can pay for my medicine, or I
                 can pay for my dinner. I can't do both.
                 In America. In America, our mothers and
                 grandmothers shouldn't have to worry
                 about that.
       VOICE on the other end of Marco's call, but he's slow to
       respond -- mesmerized by the "new" Raymond --

                           MARCO

                     (on the phone)
                 Yeah, yeah. I'm here ...
       As he starts to write an address --

69     OMITTED                                                         69


70     EXT. SKID ROW - WASHINGTON D.C. - NIGHT                        70


                           RAYMOND (V.O.)

                 There are gaps in this country. Ugly
                 chasms that we need to bridge ...
       THE SIDE OF A BUS with a HUGE SKIN of Gov. Arthur and
       Raymond Shaw and the ARTHUR/SHAW "SECURE TOMORROW" campaign
       icon -- it SLIDES away, revealing:
       MARCO -- crosses the street, walks along a row of
       dilapidated apartments --

                           RAYMOND (V.O.)

                 ... the gap between rich and poor,
                 between government and people --
       -- the area is desolate, depopulated, an economic wasteland.
       Under a crumbling awning and into

71     INT. SKID ROW RESIDENTIAL HOTEL - LOBBY - NIGHT                71

       Marco checks a room number he's written under an address on
       a scrap of paper.

TV71                       RAYMOND (T.V.)                            TV71

                 -- between true security and the notion
                 of feeling safe ...




                                                  8/18/03   41.







     A NIGHT CLERK sits behind bullet proof glass, watching the
     televised debates.

                         RAYMOND (T.V.)

               ... between what is real and what is not.

                         DESK CLERK

                   (about Raymond)
               Dontcha love this guy?

72   INT. SKID ROW HOTEL CORRIDOR                                   72

     At the far end of a long and gloomy hallway, we can see
     Marco arrive at the door to Melvin's room. He hesitates,
     then knocks --

                          MARCO

               Al?   Al Melvin, it's Marco ...
     Nothing. He looks at his watch, turns, walks back down the
     narrow, high-ceilinged corridor -- haunting sounds of radios
     and televisions and broken conversations -- he disappears
     down the stairs --

73   INT. FANCY HOTEL CORRIDOR - NIGHT                              73

     Raymond comes down the brightly-lit, elegant hallway, tired,
     trailing Anderson and his SECRET SERVICE entourage.

                         RAYMOND

               ... The enemy is among us. The wolf is
               at the door ... the fox is in the
               henhouse ... the weasel is ... the weasel
               is ...
     They take his room keycard from him, open the door --

74   INT. RAYMOND'S HOTEL SUITE - NIGHT                             74

     Anderson and another AGENT move through the suite, securing
     it -- Raymond losing steam:

                         RAYMOND

               The weasel is a weasel.    Frog and Toad
               Are Friends.
     -- returning to the door and handing Raymond his keycard.
     The PHONE BEGINS TO RING --

                         ANDERSON

               Sir, we'll be right outside.

                          RAYMOND

               I know.   Good night.
     He closes the door after them. Breathes out.    Glances at
     his watch. Then crosses to answer the phone:




                                                       8/18/03   42.








                           RAYMOND

                 You have thirty seconds, Mother.

75   INTERCUT - ELLIE'S SENATE OFFICE - NIGHT                          75

     Ellie behind her desk.

                           ELLIE

                 Am I this predictable?

                           RAYMOND

                 You have no idea.

                           ELLIE

                 I'm calling to compliment you, Mr.
                 Grumpy. I thought you were magnificent
                 tonight. So do all the network campaign
                 experts. "Presidential" was a word they
                 used.
     Raymond's second line flashes with another call.

                           ELLIE

                 This compassionate vigilance thing is
                 working quite well for you. I might have
                 to convert.

                           RAYMOND

                 I happen to believe in it.

                           ELLIE

                 Of course you do.    Now Raymond --

                           RAYMOND

                 Goodnight, Mother.

                           ELLIE

                 Raymond --
     Raymond punches a button and puts his mother on HOLD.

76   INT. ELLIE'S SENATE OFFICE - NIGHT                                76

     Ellie listens to the dead air of the other end of her call.

                            ELLIE

                 Raymond?

77   INT. RAYMOND'S HOTEL SUITE - NIGHT                                77

     Raymond stares --

     THE PHONE

     Mom on hold, flashing red light.     The second call, light
     fluttering --




                                           8/18/03   43.








RAYMOND

punches the line, lifts the receiver --

                     RAYMOND

          Yes?

                    VOICE ON THE PHONE

              (British accent)
          Sergeant Shaw?

                    RAYMOND

              (irritably)
          Who is this?
CLOSE on RAYMOND'S EAR --

                    VOICE ON THE PHONE

          Sergeant Raymond Shaw?
Beat. Raymond's puzzled. Cocks his head, eyes searching
the corners of the room. SOUND: a distant desert wind,
building. Then:

                     RAYMOND

          Yes ...?
CLOSE on RAYMOND'S EYE --

                    VOICE ON THE PHONE

          Raymond Prentiss Shaw?
-- Raymond's senses appear to QUICKEN NOW, as the LIGHTING
in the room changes, morphing somehow -- even as SOUNDS of
steady percussion, and the zaghareet -- the wailing cry of
the Arab women -- rise out of the wind --

                    RAYMOND

              (eyes alight)
          Yes.
-- everything is brighter, sharper, more luminous -- more
etched than it was just moments ago --

                    VOICE ON THE PHONE

          Listen:
              (then)
          Enter the bathroom, and go to the closet
          there.

WIDE - THE SUITE

Raymond moves with tremendous assurance across the living
room and down the hallway and into the bathroom --




                                                   8/18/03   44.








     THE PHONE

     light flashing, Eleanor on HOLD -- stops --

78   INT. BATHROOM                                                 78

     Double sinks, walk-in shower, and a huge closet which
     Raymond opens to reveal --

79   INT. CLOSET                                                   79

     A THICK PANEL in the back wall just being unmoored -- the
     RUSHING ROAR of a sandstorm and --

     A MAN IN BLACK

     steps through, gloves and soft-soled shoes. Raymond just
     watching as he places a small clam-shell video screen open
     on the counter -- we can SEE a B&W surveillance view of the
     CORRIDOR OUTSIDE RAYMOND'S ROOM, with Anderson sitting the
     night watch, reading.
     The man gestures Raymond through the closet passageway --

80   INT. A HUGE ROOM BESIDE RAYMOND'S SUITE - CONTINUOUS          80

     -- where Raymond is met by TECHNICIANS in sterile gear,
     surgical gloves.
     He's entered some kind of portable, surreal operating
     theater, filled with monitoring device and computers ... a
     one-way video-conference camera is aimed at a big
     examination chair in one corner, surrounded by I.V. racks
     and more techno-medical equipment.
     The man who is obviously in charge here, starts a digital
     timer and turns to face Raymond. It's NOYLE.

                           NOYLE

                 Hello Raymond. Do you remember me?

                           RAYMOND

                 No sir.

                           NOYLE

                 Brilliant.
                     (to his group)
                 We have twenty minutes for our little
                 check up from the neck up.

81   EXT. PAY PHONE - NIGHT                                        81

     Marco on a public phone, across the street from Melvin's
     residential hotel. Shaken.




                                                 8/18/03    45.








                          MARCO

                My God. I'm sorry to hear that. When
                did it ...
                    (listens)
                Yeah, I know. I know.
                    (deep breath)
                Listen, Mrs. Wilson -- can you tell me if
                Nathan was ever -- preoccupied -- with
                his experience in Kuwait? Did he ever
                mention dreams or nightmares ... about
                what happened ... the firefight,
                afterward ...
                    (beat)
                -- uh-huh. Sure. No, I understand.
                    (beat)
                Thank you for --
      Dial tone.   He hangs up.   Exhales.

                                                          BLINK.

82    Marco listening to the phone on the other end of his call      82
      ring, and ring and ring. Dull HISS of the city.

                                                          BLINK.

83    Another call.                                                   83

                          MARCO (O.S.)

                ... no, Mr. Villalobos, I'm just --
                Army's got me running statistics on
                stress disorders, I'm trying to gather
                information on my old squad members ...
                yes sir --

A84   INT. NOYLE'S HIDDEN HOTEL ROOM - NIGHT                         A84

      Raymond sits in a chair, rigged up with wires and tubes
      (much like he was ten years ago) -- a TRANSLUCENT BOX around
      his face overlaid with a METRIC GRID, his head held
      motionless by a semi-circular BRACE, curved calibration
      offering precise positioning for a MICRO-DRILL that Noyle
      moves into place -- and then a long, tiny drill bit WHIRS
      DOWN through STERILE LATEX stretched very tight across
      Raymond's head --
      -- and plunges precisely and effortlessly through Raymond's
      skull, then STOPS -- he has no reaction, feels nothing --
      LCD screens -- show a VIRTUAL MAP OF RAYMOND'S BRAIN, in a
      full range of primary colors -- sections morphing as
      thoughts and memories race through his mind, as
      MINISCULE, INTERWOVEN WIRES -- are threaded down through the
      HOLLOW core of the surgical drill, deep into Raymond's
      brain. Noyle plays to one of the cameras:




                                                  8/18/03   46.








                         NOYLE

               No decay, no slippage. Everything
               appears to be in flawless working
               condition.
                   (then)
               Raymond can you remember the deaths of
               Mavole and Baker?

                         RAYMOND

               Yes.
     The LCD SCREENS show activity in areas of Raymond's brain.

                         NOYLE

               Describe it.

84   INT. SKID ROW RESIDENTIAL HOTEL - NIGHT                           84

     Marco knocking at Melvin's door again.

                          MARCO

               ... Al?   You in there?
     Still nothing. He checks the hallway, takes an Army utility
     knife from his pocket and forces the lock --

85   INT. MELVIN'S APARTMENT - NIGHT                                   85

     The light switch doesn't work. Click, click. Eerie shudder
     of neon from the sign on the building, shapes crowd the
     room, claustrophobic ...
     ... Marco has a PENLIGHT -- he turns it on, sweeps in front
     of him with its weak beam:
     THE ROOM -- stacked floor to ceiling with old newspapers,
     magazines, and HUNDREDS AND HUNDREDS OF NOTEBOOKS, covering
     nearly every available surface.
     Marco picks up a notebook.    Moves to a desk and sits.   Opens
     the book --

86   OMITTED                                                           86


87   OMITTED                                                           87

88   BEAM OF THE PENLIGHT aimed down at pages filled with CRUDE        88
     DRAWINGS OF BRAINS/TOMATOES -- number-gibberish (cross-
     sections, size and weight parameters, and growth sequences)

     -- AMERICAN FLAGS --

     -- in the margins, many attempts to capture likenesses of
     DR. NOYLE AND THE MYSTERIOUS ARABIC WOMAN, repeatedly
     crossed out, never right.




                                                        8/18/03    47.








FB88   FLASH: DREAMSCAPE                                                 FB88

       Noyle turning toward us, eyes bright --

       RESUME - MARCO

       -- under the headline WHAT HAPPENED, extremely small,
       cramped handwriting that goes on for pages --
                    "The recon ends without incident, and we are
                    heading back to forward command..."




                           RAYMOND (V.O.)

                     (fades up:)
                 ... we're heading back to forward
                 command. The night is clear. Stars but
                 no moon --
       Marco closes the book, opens another journal. Same
       drawings. Same title page. Same cramped writing, that
       begins exactly the same way --

89     TIGHT - RAYMOND (STREAMING VIDEO)                                  89

       The video feed from Noyle's hidden hotel room cameras,
       digital, herky-jerky:

TV89                       RAYMOND (VIDEO)                               TV89

                 -- We're engaged unexpectedly by ground
                 forces with helicopter support. In the
                 ensuing firefight, Bobby Baker gets
                 himself separated to the left. Mavole
                 goes after him ...

90     INT. MELVIN'S ROOM - NIGHT                                         90

       Marco reading these same words, which Melvin has scrawled in
       his journals:

                           RAYMOND (V.O.)

                 ... An incoming mortar shell kills both
                 of them instantly, before I am able to --

FB90   FLASH CUT: A GIANT MONITOR                                        FB90

       Marco's whole squad, staring at a digital screen animation
       of Raymond's one-man military fire-fight -- a CGI Hummer
       with a flaming tire, Raymond heroically spewing machine gun
       fire at the enemy, exactly as we've seen it in Marco's
       retelling:

                           THE TEAM

                     (reciting together:)
                 -- instantly before Sergeant Shaw is
                 able to locate and eliminate the source
                 of the ordnance ...




                                                    8/18/03   48.








FB90A SHOCK CUT: REFLECTED IN A MIRROR - MARCO                      FB90A

       Strapped to a chair back in the dreamscape, head back, his
       mouth pried open and a hypodermic needle plunged deep up
       into his palette -- thin electrode wires splayed across his
       face and neck -- Noyle's just behind him --

                           TAPED VOICE

                     (distant, foreign, precise:)
                 ... locate and eliminate the source of --

                                                           BLINK.


91     INT. MELVIN'S ROOM - MARCO                                     91

       flips compulsively ahead through the notebook, lit by the
       harsh beam of the penlight. Endless, repetitive writing.
       FEVERISHLY RENDERED IMPRESSIONS of the dreamscape, medical
       apparatus, choppers, guns -- MORE and MORE images of Raymond
       Shaw -- of Raymond strangling Mavole --
       -- and A DRAWING OF A MAN WHO MIGHT BE MARCO, unfinished,
       uncertain except for the eyes -- Marco with a GUN in his
       hand --

FB91   FLASH: BOBBY BAKER                                            FB91

       -- as a bullet hole is punched in his forehead -- FALLING
       AWAY -- with a look of astonishment on his face -- blood
       just beginning to seep from the wound --

       RESUME - MELVIN'S ROOM - MARCO

       he drops the notebook like it's on fire --

       TIGHT - ON THE FLOOR - THE NOTEBOOK

       -- SKETCHES of Bobby Baker with a bullet hole in his
       forehead --

       MARCO

       -- topples the chair as he stands up -- and then:

       THE BARE, OVERHEAD LIGHTBULB IN THE ROOM

       shudders to life -- dies -- glows again -- brighter -- AND

       NOW MARCO SEES:


       THE WALLS OF MELVIN'S APARTMENT

       are COVERED with DRAWINGS and SCRAWLINGS and newspaper
       clippings and patterns made with paper plates and empty
       Noodle containers -- the crazy patterns of the tiles from
       Noyle's dream lab -- it's as if Marco has entered the mind
       of a mad man -- everything from the notebooks, and more,




                                                   8/18/03   49.







       much more -- dominated by tormented, repeated images of
       Raymond Shaw --
       -- Marco is stunned --
       PUSHING IN -- as a painstakingly rendered DRAWING OF RAYMOND
       SHAW fills the screen: wild-eyed with SNAKES writhing out of
       his head, Medusa-like, EVOKING THE WIRES AND TUBES FROM

       MARCO'S NIGHTMARE DREAMSCAPE --


92     TIGHT - NOYLE (VIDEO STREAMING)                                92

       Pixels blown out and distorted, streaming insanely -- Noyle
       stares right into camera, intent:

TV92                       NOYLE                                     TV92

                 Questions?

                                             SCREAM OF A TRAIN.


93     INT. BULLET TRAIN TO NEW YORK - DAY                            93

       Marco sits at a window, eyes closed, head pressed to the
       glass, the world just a blur beyond him. He opens his eyes,

       SEES:


       LAURENT TOKAR

       sitting down across from him.   Smiling.

                           LAURENT

                     (French accent)
                 Is this seat taken?

                                                             SKIP


94     INT. BULLET TRAIN TO NEW YORK - DAY                            94

       Marco opens his eyes -- head pressed to a window, the world
       a blur beyond him -- SEES:
       Nothing. An empty seat opposite him. Laurent was a dream.
       Marco looks around, self-conscious, and --

       THROUGH THE SEATS - A WOMAN'S FACE

       staring back at him. Not enough to tell much more than
       she's pretty. Marco looks away, out the window. Then back.
       She's gone. Another dream?

                           WOMAN'S VOICE (ROSIE)

                 Maryland's a beautiful state.
       Marco jumps -- looks. The pretty woman is sitting down
       opposite him, folding and pushing aside a newspaper with the
       headline: WHITE HOUSE INSISTS WAR ON TERROR IS STILL

       WINNABLE. COST OF PERUVIAN CAMPAIGN HITS $100 BILLION.





                                           8/18/03    50.







Below the fold: ANGRY MOB KILLS MUSLIM STUDENT AT YALE.

                    MARCO

          This is Delaware.

                    ROSIE

          I know. But, Maryland, it's a beautiful
          state anyway.
He's staring at her, trying to figure out --

                    ROSIE

          Paper or plastic.

                      MARCO

          What?

                    ROSIE

          From the grocery store. You were
          wondering where, we, you know -- and
          right at the check-out stand, "paper or
          plastic," that's me. I see you all the
          time. Bennett Marco. Checks from the
          First National Bank, and you always put
          your spare change into the March of Dimes
          thing.
              (beat)
          Romance novels, instant noodles, No-Doz
          and tomatoes.
              (Marco frowns)
          Anyway, I'm on vacation, holiday in the
          City and so forth, I saw you sitting here
          ... I thought, okay, girl -- it's now or
          never.
Beat.

                    ROSIE

          You headed to New York City?

                      MARCO

          Yeah.

                      ROSIE

          Business?

                    MARCO

          No. Guy I knew ... in the Army. He's in
          politics now. We've kinda lost touch.
              (awkward beat, then)
          What's your name?

                      ROSIE

          Eugenie.

                    MARCO

          'Scuse me?




                                                     8/18/03   51.








                             ROSIE

                  Yeah.   Crazy French pronunciation and
                  all.

                            MARCO

                  It's pretty.

                             ROSIE

                  Thanks.

                            MARCO

                  I guess your friends call you Jenny.

                            ROSIE

                  Not yet they haven't, thank God.   But you
                  can call me Jenny.

                            MARCO

                  What do your friends call you?

                            ROSIE

                  Rosie. My full name is Eugenie Rose.
                  I've always liked the Rosie part better.
                  Eugenie is, well, fragile.

                            MARCO

                  Still. When I asked you your name, you
                  said it was Eugenie.

                           ROSIE

                  Yeah. Well. Maybe 'cause I was feeling
                  fragile. At the time.
       Beat.   Their eyes lock.   Marco blinks --
FB94   FLASH: PFC. BOBBY BAKER -- stares back at him from where   FB94
       Rosie was sitting. Bullet hole in his forehead and a small,
       lost smile. Reaching out to him --

                                                           BLINK.

       ROSIE -- as before.    Slight look of puzzlement, because --
       MARCO -- is on his feet, rattled, moving out to the aisle --

                            MARCO

                  Excuse me.
       -- and LURCHING toward the back of the train, nearly losing
       his balance as he goes through the sliding doors.

95     INT. TRAIN CORRIDOR - AS BEFORE                                95

       -- Marco catches himself, hands against the bulkhead wall
       near the bathroom. Another PASSENGER squeezes past him,
       headed in the opposite direction. Marco tries the bathroom
       door. Locked. OCCUPIED.




                                                8/18/03   52.







Marco reaches into his pocket for a plastic vial of
medicine. Tries to shake one of the TINY PILLS OUT, but --
A BURLY PASSENGER in the bathroom emerges and the door
SMACKS Marco hard across the back --
-- THE PILLS scatter onto the floor --

                    MARCO

          OW dammit --

         BIG MAN                               MARCO

Sorry. I didn't know you          It's okay.     It's okay.
were --
-- Marco's DOWN ON HIS KNEES, struggling to gather the pills
together and put them back in the plastic vial. The big man
goes.

ROSIE

sinks down next to him.   Calm.   Deftly plucking the pills
from the floor.

                    ROSIE

          My mother would tell you to wash these.
Marco looks up at her blankly.    She takes the vial, caps it,
gives it back.

                    ROSIE

          I didn't mean to upset you.

                    MARCO

          It's not you, it's me. I'm not -- my
          head --
              (gestures uselessly)
          -- nothing's ...
              (stares at her)
          I wish I smoked.

                    ROSIE

          It's way overrated.
They stare at each other.   Then:

                    MARCO

          Rosie, I'm gonna go in here, wash my
          face, take my pill, and get myself
          together.
Marco ducks into the bathroom and shuts the door.




                                                    8/18/03   53.








96    INT. TRAIN MEN'S ROOM - DAY                                      96

      Marco cups water in his hands and smears it on his face,
      wiping it away with a paper towel. He comes up looking in
      the mirror, avoiding his own gaze as --

      IN THE MIRROR: THE DOOR OPENS

      and a man comes partway in -- now it's Dr. Noyle.
      Marco pivots -- no Noyle. The door is shut, locked.      He's
      all alone. Losing his mind.

97    INT. TRAIN CORRIDOR - ROSIE                                      97

      Lost in thought. Faint smile. She puts her hand flat
      against the door, then turns and heads back to her seat.

98    INT. TRAIN MEN'S ROOM - MARCO                                    98

      Turns to the mirror again ... and again SEES Dr. Noyle
      behind him, smiling:

                          NOYLE

                Hello Captain. Do you remember me?
      KNOCKING at the door, a pass-key rattling in it --

99    INT. TRAIN CORRIDOR - MARCO                                      99

      emerges from the bathroom to find an irritated CONDUCTOR now
      awkwardly trying to extract his key from the door, and Rosie
      waiting.

                CONDUCTOR                         ROSIE

      Are you okay, sir?                Ben?

                            MARCO

                ... Yeah.

                         ROSIE

                Jesus. You've been in here twenty
                minutes. I thought you'd fallen off.
      Marco stares at Rosie.    Twenty minutes?   The train SHUDDERS
      to a halt --

100   INT. PENN STATION - DAY                                          100

      Marco comes up the escalator, into a SEA OF COMMUTERS.
      Momentarily lost. Rosie is behind him, a moment later with
      her bag, and --

                          ROSIE

                I'm gonna get a cab, you want me to drop
                you somewhere?




                                                   8/18/03   54.








                           MARCO

                No.   I'm okay, thanks.

                          ROSIE

                Your friend gonna meet you here?

                           MARCO

                No.
      Beat.

                          ROSIE

                El Dorado 59970.
                    (off Marco's frown)
                My cell phone, in case you -- you know.
                I like to say it the old way -- can you
                remember the number, or should I write it
                on your chest with a sharpie?

                          MARCO

                    (small smile)
                I'll remember.
      Beat.

                          ROSIE

                You're sweating.

                           MARCO

                What?
      Marco feels his shirt -- soaked. Long beat. She reaches
      out and feels his forehead. No fever. Sizing him up.

                          ROSIE

                Listen. You got a place to go and get
                freshened up?

101   INT. ROSIE'S COUSIN'S APARTMENT - NIGHT                        101

      Rosie lets Marco in. It's incredibly cramped, everything in
      one room, window facing a brick wall, lots of play posters.

                          ROSIE

                -- It's my cousin's apartment. She's in
                Cleveland with the road company of 'Mamma
                Mia.' There's ... a view of the park ...
                if you go out on the fire escape and
                kinda ... tilt your head ...
      Marco puts down the suitcases and waits in the middle of the
      room while Rosie takes off her coat, turns on some lights.

                          ROSIE

                I'm nervous. I'm sorry.   I yak when I
                get nervous.




                                                     8/18/03   55.








                           MARCO

                 Me, I get quiet.
      Another awkward beat.    She stands there.   Studying him.

                             ROSIE

                 You okay?

                           MARCO

                 Dreams, I've been having these --
      Catches himself.   That's just how Melvin said it.

                           ROSIE

                 Is that what happened on the train?

                             MARCO

                 Sort of.
      Beat.

                           MARCO

                 I could be dreaming you.

                           ROSIE

                 What if you are?

                           MARCO

                 You'd be the best dream I've had in a
                 long time, Rosie.
      Beat.   Rosie smiles at him.

                           ROSIE

                 If that's a line, Ben Marco, it kinda
                 worked.

102   INT. BATHROOM - SHOWER - MARCO                                     102

      The water cascades down on him. He    feels around   on his back
      where the door on the train whacked   him -- feels   something
      on his shoulder -- a bump -- CAMERA   CURLS around   as he
      twists, contorts, can't see it, but   feels it and   --

FB102 OMITTED                                                        FB102


                           ROSIE'S VOICE

                     (distant)
                 Ben?

      TIGHT - MARCO'S HAND

      turning off the shower, hard --




                                                   8/18/03    56.








103   RESUME - ROSIE'S COUSIN'S APARTMENT                               103

      She's sitting, watching the closed bathroom door.      No noise
      from the shower.

                          ROSIE

                Earth to Ben -- how're you doing in
                there?

104   INT. BATHROOM - MARCO                                             104

      hyper, rummaging through the vanity, searching for -- pair
      of cuticle scissors, tweezers, anything sharp -- a little
      basket of sample perfumes CRASHES into the sink --

                          ROSIE (O.S.)

                    (KNOCKING loudly)
                Ben, what's going on -- are you okay --?
      Marco finds a razor blade -- twisting it clumsily in his
      fingers to reach the slight bump on his back he can only
      barely see in the mirror --

105   INTERCUT - ROSIE - OUTSIDE THE DOOR                               105

      -- Rosie's KNOCKING HARDER, NOW.

                          ROSIE

                Ben, I need you to open this door.    Okay?
                Just for a sec.
                    (beat)
                You're scaring me. Ben --?

106   INT. BATHROOM - MARCO                                             106

      He SLASHES at the lump.   Blood blossoms.   SLASHES again,
      oblivious to pain.

                          ROSIE


                BEN MARCO!?

      PUSH IN as Ben presses the blade sharply down into his skin
      ... cutting a slit through which the blunt edge of

      AN EXTREMELY TINY OBLONG THING

      appears, like a grain of rice.   It slides out into Ben's
      bloody fingers.
107   Rosie's PUSHING against the door, trying to force it open.        107

108   MARCO                                                             108

      puts his trembling hand under the faucet, grips the thing
      between two fingers, turns on the water --




                                                 8/18/03   57.








109   THE DOOR - ROSIE                                               109

      breaks in -- sees the BLOOD smeared down Marco's back --

                            ROSIE

                Oh Jesus.
      -- and the razor in his hand -- she pushes him away --

      MARCO

      -- loses his grip on the oblong thing before he can even get
      a good look at it, and it goes into the sink --

                            MARCO

                SHIT.    Oh no NO ...
      -- and down the drain -- Marco twists the faucet off, and

                                                     DIVES TO


      FLOOR LEVEL - UNDER THE SINK

      where he puts both hands on the fittings of the u-joint trap
      and struggles to get them loose -- succeeding finally, water
      spewing everywhere --
      -- the trap falls to the floor, disgorging soap chips, slimy
      hairballs and pipe corrosion and water ... but not the thing
      he wants. It's --

                            MARCO

                -- Gone.    Shit.
      MARCO -- rests his head on the cool tile, eyes far away.
      Defeated. Rosie crouches next to him. A little scared.
      She blots the blood from his back with the towel, and then
      presses her ice pack against it.

                          MARCO

                Tell me you saw that.
      Rosie just stares at him.

                          MARCO

                    (hollow)
                You didn't. You didn't see it.

                            ROSIE

                See what?
      Marco closes his eyes.

                            MARCO

                Proof.




                                                   8/18/03   58.








                           ROSIE

                Of what?

                          MARCO

                My sanity.

110   EXT. ISOLATED WAREHOUSE - ON THE HUDSON RIVER - DAY            110

      Stark building with a huge parking lot and only one car
      parked in it. A CAB pulls through the open gate, stops.
      Marco gets out.

                          DELP (V.O.)

                Implant delusions. Number three on the
                paranoid top ten list.

111   INT. WAREHOUSE STAIRWAY - DAY                                  111

      Ben and RICHARD DELP ascend at a good clip. Delp wears a
      lab coat, trappings of a medical researcher:

                          MARCO

                This wasn't a delusion.

                          DELP

                That's what they all say, Marco.
                    (then)
                Some wicked shit got sprayed on you guys
                during Desert Storm. Besides all the
                depleted uranium, I mean ...
      He stops, unlocks a door, and they go --

112   INT. DELP'S RESEARCH LAB - SKY BOOTH - DAY                     112

      A narrow, glassed-in space with a cluster of monitoring
      equipment against the wall of darkened windows. Fluorescent
      lights flicker on, revealing a CAVERNOUS SPACE BELOW, in
      which an intricate MAZE of CAGES contains unhappy, SCREAMING
      research MONKEYS with Orwellian stainless-steel hardware and
      antennae bolted to their bisected skulls. Strange SOUNDS
      and various LIGHTING EFFECTS emerge from the different
      sections.

                          DELP

                ... I personally know of a coupla Rangers
                who swear that they see only in tertiary
                colors now --

                           MARCO

                -- Delp.

                          DELP

                -- and can pick up sports talk radio in
                their cortical block if they get too
                close to a Con-Ed transformer.




                                              8/18/03    59.








                     MARCO

          -- Delp.   It's not GWS.
Delp has known Marco too long, and too well, not to take him
seriously.

                    DELP

          A dozen years ago, the Army did this tiny
          implantable I.D. thing -- you could imbed
          it under the skin, then scan it like a
          bar code for medical emergency
          information, blood-type, DNA. Pentagon
          ordered up half a million, and stuck
          about five thousand experimentally into
          high-risk soldiers and infantry. But the
          scanners proved skittish and field
          hospitals hated 'em, so the whole deal
          got eighty-sixed and forgotten.

                    MARCO

          The Army never put one in me.

                    DELP

          That you know of, man.     That you know of.
              (then)
          How'd you find me?

                    MARCO (V.O.)

          I looked under Mad Scientists in the
          yellow pages -- there was a full page ad.

                     DELP

          Ha ha.
Marco stares down into a big pit. Among the racks of
equipment are two primate-sized stainless-steel beds with
restraints and I.V. trees waiting.

                    DELP

          You seriously believe somebody's messed
          with your mother board.

                    MARCO

          What are you studying here, Delp?

                     DELP

          Fear.

                    MARCO

          For the Agency?

                    DELP

          Nah, CIA cut me loose in '97 during the
          Macedonian debacle. Now I got this
          little grant from Wal-Mart.




                                                 8/18/03    60.







      Wal-Mart? Fear? Marco looks at the monkeys. Doesn't want
      to know any more. He shifts his gaze back to Delp. Studies
      him. Then:

                          MARCO

                Look, Delp. My experiences during the
                war, in Kuwait ... feel dreamlike to me.
                And my dreams? About what happened?
                Feel as real as you and me, here, right
                now.
      Delp just waits.

                          MARCO

                It's like ... I feel like somewhere along
                the line, I've been ... brainwashed. Or
                something. You know? All scrambled up.

                          DELP

                We've all been brainwashed, Marco.
                Religion, advertising, television.
                Politics. We accept what's normal
                because we're told it's normal and we
                crave normalcy. Hell, look at the
                Germans under Hitler. Disco, in the
                seventies.
                    (beat)
                And if you're really worried about
                somebody imbedding electric probes and
                computer chips in your brain to make you
                do things -- it's horseshit, man. Turns
                out Pavlov had it right from the getgo.
                Dogs and all. A little ECT and sleep
                deprivation will do the trick for a
                fraction of the price. Ask the Uzbeks.
                And you would remember it.

                          MARCO

                What about my dreams?

                          DELP

                    (shrugs)
                What if all this is the fucking dream and
                you're still back in Kuwait?

                          MARCO

                You're not helping me.

                          DELP

                I am. You're not helping yourself.
                Reality is consensual, man. You just
                gotta prove it up. Or play it out.

113   OMITTED                                                      113


114   OMITTED                                                      114





                                                  8/18/03   61.








115   NEWS FOOTAGE - AIRPORT ARRIVAL (VIDEO)                         115

TV115 Raymond emerges from a private jet, waves to a crowd of     TV115
      supporters behind a chain link fence --

116   EXT. TETERBORO AIRPORT - TARMAC - CHARTER ARRIVALS - DAY       116

      Same. Raymond, his handlers, his Secret Service escort walk
      a gauntlet of news cameras, REPORTERS lob questions from
      behind a barrier:

                          REPORTER #2

                Congressman Shaw! Why do you and Gov.
                Arthur oppose deploying troops in
                Indonesia?

                          RAYMOND

                We can't clean up the world with dirty
                hands.

      MOVING WITH - MARCO

      as he keeps pace with Raymond, walking, moving behind the
      reporters, weaving through the crowd.

                REPORTER #2                     REPORTER #3

      What about your mother's        Is your mother helping or
      allegation that a nuclear       hurting your campaign?
      attack on this country from
      a secret alliance of rogue
      states is certain within two
      years?

                          RAYMOND

                Guys, I gave up a long time ago trying to
                second guess my mother. I'm just
                surprised the rest of you haven't.

                          MARCO

                Do you ever dream about Kuwait?
      Heads turning to find Marco, folder under his arm -- strange
      looks -- Secret Service poised to react, but Raymond slows,
      looks -- sees Marco. A cloud passing over his features:

                          RAYMOND

                I can never remember my dreams.
      MORE QUESTIONS lobbed out, overlapping, but Raymond ignores
      them. Marco pushes through as Raymond assures Anderson:

                          RAYMOND

                -- it's okay. I know him, it's okay.




                                                     8/18/03    62.








117   INT. LIMOUSINE - DAY                                            117

      Raymond and Marco in the back seat facing forward. Anderson
      and campaign handler MIRELLA FREEMAN sit facing them,
      talking low, on a cell phone, as:

                           RAYMOND

                 I saw Mavole's Mom and Dad in St. Louis.
                 I still visit them -- and Baker's mom --
                 when I can. Do you keep up with anybody
                 from the unit besides Al Melvin?

                           MARCO

                 I don't keep up with Al Melvin.     He found
                 me.

                           RAYMOND

                 Why did you ask me about Kuwait?

                           MARCO

                     (pleasantly:)
                 I didn't. I asked you about your dreams.
                 At the fundraiser -- why did you say you
                 needed to talk to me?

                           MIRELLA

                     (covers the phone)
                 Mr. Shaw, excuse me -- they want to know
                 if you'll do an interview with Larry King
                 at six.

                             RAYMOND

                 No.
                     (to Marco)
                 What do you want from me, Captain?

                            MARCO

                 Major.   Forty minutes of your time.

                           MIRELLA

                 No to the interview, or no to six?

                           RAYMOND

                 He wants to talk about my mother.     No.
      He looks at Marco --

                           MARCO

                 Private time.

                           RAYMOND

                 Well, we've got about five minutes, right
                 now. And this is as private as it gets
                 for me anymore, so ...
      Beat.   He waits.   Anderson staring at Marco.




                                                 8/18/03    63.








                          MARCO

                There are these dreams that ... some of
                the men in our unit have been having.

                          RAYMOND

                Including you?

                          MARCO

                It's a question of what actually happened
                the night our patrol was attacked --

                          RAYMOND

                That's easy.
                    (almost automatic)
                RPG incoming. Mortar fire, we're
                ambushed. Total chaos. I can't locate
                Baker or Mavole. You're knocked
                unconscious -- I find you and pull you to
                safety and then --

                          MARCO

                    (cuts him off)
                -- Yeah, that's how I remember it, too.
                    (beat)
                But I dream something else.
      The limo pulls to a curb --

118   EXT. ARTHUR/SHAW N.Y. CAMPAIGN OFFICE - LATE AFTERNOON      118

      Through the windows SEE a crowded clutter of desks, phone
      volunteers, stacks of pamphlets. A giant SECURE TOMORROW
      logo looms above, flanked by beaming likenesses of Robert
      Arthur and Raymond Shaw. Anderson comes out and opens the
      limo door for Raymond. Marco struggles out behind him:

                          RAYMOND

                Am I in your dreams?

                          MARCO

                Yeah.

                          RAYMOND

                Doing what?

                          MARCO

                    (evasive)
                -- You know.
      Raymond steps just outside the entrance to his office.

                          RAYMOND

                Saving everybody?
      PEDESTRIANS pass between them on the crowded sidewalk.




                                             8/18/03   64.








                    MARCO

          It's more complicated than that.
Marco reaches into his folder, pulls out one of Melvin's
notebooks --

                    MARCO

          People just don't have the same dreams
          accidentally --
              (holds out the notebook)
          -- Melvin made drawings, he wrote down
          what he dreamed, this is one of his
          notebooks -- it's all in here.
-- and Raymond's staring at the notebook without taking it,
the way Marco once did with Melvin. Anderson and Mirella --
the staffers in the office -- are all staring at Marco the
same way the Boy Scouts once stared at Melvin.

                    RAYMOND

          I don't have dreams, Captain.
              (then, gently:)
          Maybe you should ... see somebody -- talk
          to somebody who specializes in this kind
          of thing --

                    MARCO

          I've been to doctors.
... which is exactly what Melvin said to him.

                     MARCO

          Okay.   Okay, I'm sorry.
Marco nods again, numb, makes a vague resigned gesture.

                    MARCO

          I'm not crazy, Shaw.
He jams the notebook back into his folder, starts to walk
away.

                    RAYMOND

              (calls after)
          Captain --
              (then)
          -- Major.
              (then)
          Ben.
Marco stops, turns.

                    RAYMOND

          Are you hungry?




                                                 8/18/03    65.








119   INT. RAYMOND'S PRIVATE OFFICE - CAMPAIGN HQ - DUSK             119

      Huge posters featuring Raymond's face, emblazoned with
      SECURE TOMORROW, stacked against the wall. A desk covered
      with papers and enough take-out Chinese food for ten people,
      and Raymond sits behind it, nursing a glass of wine, and
      pointedly ignoring Melvin's notebook, while:

                          RAYMOND

                I kill Mavole?

                          MARCO

                It's a dream --

                           RAYMOND

                No.

                          MARCO

                -- could mean something else.

                           RAYMOND

                No.

                          MARCO

                -- could be I'm just supposed to think
                you did.

                          RAYMOND

                -- I killed the enemy. I didn't know
                them, either. So it was okay. And,
                anyway, I remember what we did in Kuwait,
                I remember it perfectly. But now that
                you mention it, I don't remember doing it
                ... exactly.

                          MARCO

                Maybe you didn't.

                           RAYMOND

                NO.   What a thought.
      Now he picks up the dream book. Marco watches. Raymond
      flips through the pages for a moment, dismissively. Then
      stops at something Melvin has drawn. Frowns. Raises his
      eyebrows. Closes it, sets it down:

                          RAYMOND

                Life is so bizarre, isn't it? This
                absurd campaign, the sordid world of
                politics, my whole public life and
                persona -- sometimes, occasionally, for
                an instant, the fog clears and I look and
                I think, what am I doing? I mean, what
                the fuck am I doing? Posing and grinning
                like a goddamn sock puppet, shaking hands
                with total strangers who must be blind if

                          (MORE)





                                            8/18/03    66.








                    RAYMOND (CONT'D)

          they can't see what I am, at the core.
          What my mother has made me.
Raymond looks steadily at Marco ... who nods, interested:

                    RAYMOND

          A Prentiss. Ferociously, a Prentiss --
          but not a Shaw, God forbid -- I was
          molded by cold hard hands, every detail
          of my existence preordained. Can you
          even imagine, Ben, how it would feel
          never to have a say in what your life
          would be? I was twenty years old before
          I had a friend -- no, worse, a girlfriend
          -- well, almost -- but, yes, a friend, or
          I thought so -- outside my mother's
          circle of approved encounters -- and it
          didn't -- she wouldn't -- precipitating
          my one act of rebellion, storming off and
          enlisting --
              (grimaces)
          -- in the Army. Which, ironically, only
          served ultimately to pad my gilded
          Prentiss resume. You know: "fluent in
          five languages, Phi Beta Kappa,
          Congressional Medal of Honor, blah blah
          blah."
              (beat)
          And after the war I came back to her.
          And the family legacy. This. Mother
          calls it, "fulfilling my Manifest
          Prentiss Destiny."

                    MARCO

          Why did you come back, Raymond?   What
          happened?

                    RAYMOND

          What?
Seeming startled, Raymond's reverie is broken.     His eyes
harden as he refocuses on Marco.

                    RAYMOND

          Weren't you listening? Mother happened.
              (then)
          You know, the truth is, I hate it. I've
          always despised it.

                    MARCO

              (lost)
          Which?

                    RAYMOND

          The medal. The cloying adulation of the
          little people. Your pitiful jealousy --




                                 8/18/03    67.








          MARCO

Who said I was jealous?

          RAYMOND

I don't have the dreams, Ben.

          MARCO

How can you not remember saving the unit?

           RAYMOND

I do.   I said I did.

          MARCO

You said you don't remember doing it.

          RAYMOND

Ha ha, don't mix me up, I'm tired, and --
Fine. It's like this. It's as if I know
what will happen, Ben, but I never get to
the part where I feel that it actually
did happen. But I think that's probably
perfectly normal.

          MARCO

Did you ever talk to anybody about this
little discrepancy?

          RAYMOND

What? No. Who would I ask? My old Army
"buddies," who love and adore me for
saving their pathetically unimportant --
present company excluded -- asses?

          MARCO

No.  You ask Army Intelligence.
    (getting excited)
Look, we can go together, tomorrow. You
tell them what you just told me,
everything you do remember, what you
don't "exactly" remember, about Kuwait,
let 'em run some tests on you --

          RAYMOND

I'm sure the press would have a field day
with that.

          MARCO

Raymond. They put an implant in me. I
found it yesterday. Maybe they put one
in you.

          RAYMOND

    (horrified)
Nobody's put anything in me.




                                             8/18/03   68.








                    MARCO

          Great. Let's prove it. We can go get an
          x-ray -- we can check it right now --
Marco moves toward him, Raymond backs away --

                    RAYMOND

          I want to be supportive of you, Ben, I
          do, but --

                    MARCO

          Just check your back, Raymond --

                    RAYMOND

          -- this can wait until after the
          election.

                    MARCO

          What are you afraid of?   See if there's a
          bump.

                    RAYMOND

          You should leave.   This is not, this is
          not --

                    MARCO

          -- just check --

                    RAYMOND

              (without checking)
          There's nothing there!
Marco LUNGES at Raymond -- they fall, together, over the
desk, onto the floor -- Chinese food scattering.

                    MARCO

          Somebody was in your head, with big steel-
          toe boots, a couple of cable cutters and
          a chainsaw, and they went to town!
          Neurons got wasted, circuits rewired,
          brain cells obliterated --
KNOCKING at the door:

                    ANDERSON (O.S.)

          Congressman Shaw?

                    MARCO

          -- you don't even know what they did!
          You don't -- you can't CONCEIVE what they
          did to you -- and you're worried about
          some lame-ass reporters!?
-- where Marco (stronger, better-trained) wraps Raymond in a
headlock, RIPS Raymond's shirt from the shoulder --




                                                  8/18/03   69.








                           MARCO

                 If I'm wrong they can put me the fuck
                 away --

                           ANDERSON (O.S.)

                 -- are you okay?

                           RAYMOND

                 Ben --

                           MARCO

                 -- there -- there's -- something --
       INSISTENT KNOCKING at the door. Marco CLAWS AT THE SKIN on
       RAYMOND'S BACK -- sinks his teeth in --
       -- Raymond shakes him off, and MARCO slams into the wall.
       The office door BANGS open --
       Anderson and other agents SWARM Marco -- there's blood
       smeared on Marco's mouth, his jaws are clenched --

                           ANDERSON

                     (disbelief)
                 He bit him.
                     (at Raymond)
                 Sir, did he bite you?

                           RAYMOND

                 No.
       MARCO -- shoved to the floor -- twisted -- handcuffed --
       blood SMEARING across the carpet -- his eyes wild with
       adrenaline and fear --
       RAYMOND -- his hand goes to his back -- his eyes LOCK with
       Marco's for an instant -- then Marco is hustled out the
       door.

                           ANDERSON

                 Sir --

                           RAYMOND


                 NOTHING HAPPENED!

       Horrified campaign workers crane necks to see inside. Mute
       with shock, Raymond pulls his hand away from his back.
       Hides the blood.

120    OMITTED                                                       120


A121   EXT. MANHATTAN - STATUE OF LIBERTY - DAY                     A121

       The giant lady is gilded by sunlight, virgin and
       unapproachable.




                                                  8/18/03   70.








                          ELLIE (V.O.)

                You want to help him?

121   INT. ELEGANT MANHATTAN RESTAURANT - PRIVATE ROOM - DAY       121

      Raymond and Ellie. Through the wavy glass we see a crowded
      dining room, the ever-present Secret Service.

                          RAYMOND

                No. That'd be political suicide. Of
                course not. I want you to help him.

                          ELLIE

                I can't even imagine why.

                          RAYMOND

                Because I feel sorry for him.   Because I
                said I would.

                          ELLIE

                What should we do?   Make him a General?

                          RAYMOND

                Mother. Look. My campaign people are
                getting a restraining order, he's going
                on all the security watch-lists -- but I
                won't lock him up. I'm not pressing
                charges.

                          ELLIE

                What?

                          RAYMOND

                It's complicated -- I don't know. It's
                just complicated and I don't want to talk
                about it, I want to get back to the
                campaign and focus on --

                          ELLIE

                You don't actually believe his story?

                          RAYMOND

                No. But he does. And he's a fine
                soldier and ... my friend. And if his
                slim hold on sanity requires that I
                tolerate his delusions until he can get
                help, I'll do it. It doesn't diminish
                me. And I'm not afraid of him.

                          ELLIE

                This is why voters love you. Your
                humanity and everything. I've never
                projected humanity.

                          RAYMOND

                Yes I think telling people you want to
                "round up all the towelheads and throw

                          (MORE)





                                                    8/18/03   71.








                          RAYMOND (CONT'D)

                them in a deep pit" probably tips your
                hand.

                          ELLIE

                    (laughs)
                That was a joke, you dreadful boy.
      A BUSBOY delivers Ellie her meal: a thick steak stuffed with
      viscous grey -- off Raymond's disgust:

                          ELLIE

                Carpetbag steak.

                           RAYMOND

                Stuffed.   With oysters?
      She starts to cut meat into child-like, bite-sized pieces
      and put them on a side plate, for Raymond.

                          ELLIE

                The steak part is mostly for you.
                Doesn't it look yummy?

                          RAYMOND

                My God. In the world's literature of
                food could there possibly be a more
                vulgar dish?

                          ELLIE

                And eating it is an absolute sexual
                experience. Try some.

                          RAYMOND

                Promise me that you'll help him.
      Ellie stops, sighs, puts her fork down and reaches for the
      oversized-satchel that doubles as her briefcase and purse.

                          ELLIE

                Oh, Raymond, how much do you really know
                about your friend?
      Ellie finds two thick files and plops them down, as
      punctuation, in front of Raymond.

122   EXT. FEDERAL BUILDING (MANHATTAN) - DAY                        122

      Establishing --

      PHOTOGRAPHS - SCENE PHOTOS - AL MELVIN'S DEAD BODY

      being pulled from the chilly waters of the Potomac.     Some
      clinical AUTOPSY glossies.

                          MARCO (V.O.)

                Al Melvin ...




                                                  8/18/03   72.








123   INT. FEDERAL BUILDING - CONFERENCE ROOM - DAY                 123

      Marco stares, troubled and sad, at bleak photographs of Al
      Melvin's bloated, waterlogged corpse.

                          MARCO

                I went to talk to him.   But he wasn't
                there.
      Across from him are three impatient FBI AGENTS (RAMIREZ,
      GOLDRING and JONAS). Ramirez has the notebook Marco took
      from Melvin's. Goldring pushes a tiny digital tape recorder
      closer to Marco:

                          AGENT GOLDRING

                Talk about what?
      Marco hesitates -- looks to Lt. Col. Howard, who sits
      grimly, off the one side, with Col. Garret.

                          AGENT GOLDRING

                Dreams?
      A lone woman, SPECIAL AGENT VOLK, sits in a distant corner
      on a folding chair. She's implacable, staring intently at
      Marco. Ramirez holds up the notebook -- a page of crazy
      drawings and text.

                          MARCO

                Yeah, there are hundreds more of those in
                his apartment. Did your people check out
                his place --?

                          AGENT JONAS

                Colonel Garret kindly showed us the file
                on you, Marco, you're the shit: Special
                Forces. Rangers. Delta.

                          MARCO

                I wanted to talk to Corporal Melvin about
                some unanswered questions involving our
                reconnaissance mission in Kuwait, back in

                '91 --


                          AGENT JONAS

                    (talks over him)
                And he wasn't there, so, what -- you
                thought it'd be okay to break in and wait
                for him?
      Marco carefully, respectfully stacks the photographs of
      Melvin and turns them over. Exchanges a glance with the
      female agent.




                                               8/18/03   73.








                     MARCO

               (at Howard)
           I know this game. Will you explain to
           them that I know this game?

                     AGENT RAMIREZ

           Oh right. Army Intelligence.   Isn't that
           an oxymoron?

                      MARCO

           Yeah.   Kinda like 'special agent.'

                     COLONEL GARRET

           Cut it out, Major.

                     AGENT GOLDRING

           What's your obsession with Raymond Shaw?

                     AGENT RAMIREZ

           Man of his dreams.

                     MARCO

           Listen, you might want to advise your ME
           to check for an implant in Corporal
           Melvin's back -- under the skin, just shy
           of the scapula, left side ... if he's not
           looking for it, he won't find it.
Implant.   The Feds just stare at him.   Like he's nuts.

                     MARCO

           I didn't have anything to do with
           Corporal Melvin's death.

                     AGENT JONAS

           Yeah, well, that's your opinion, but
           judging from your file here, apparently
           you don't know your shit from your
           oatmeal, my friend --
Marco snaps, spins out of his chair and lunges at Jonas --
Lt. Col. Howard and the other agents step between the two
men -- pull them apart --

                     LT. COL. HOWARD

               (re: Jonas)
           Get this man out of here.

                     AGENT JONAS

               (taunting Marco)
           Go ahead, nutball. Try it.
Marco PUNCHES the agent so hard it knocks him down to the
floor between the other two.

                     AGENT JONAS

           -- He hit me! Fuck!




                                                  8/18/03   74.








                          MARCO

                He said I could.
      Colonel Garret shoves Marco back into a chair, stays in the
      middle of the fracas, while --

                          LT. COL. HOWARD

                Okay, OKAY --! That's enough.
                Gentlemen, I need a moment with Major
                Marco. Now.
      The Federal Agents retreat with their bloodied-nose, cold-
      cocked colleague, door slamming behind them.

                          ELLIE (V.O.)

                Evidently this has been going on for
                years ...
      Only Agent Volk remains, unmoved by what just occurred.
      CLOSE ON - MARCO, catching his breath.

                          ELLIE (V.O.)

                ... Sad little Tin Soldier.

124   INT. ELEGANT RESTAURANT - PRIVATE ROOM - DAY                  124

      Ellie eats, while Raymond flips through Marco's extensive
      file: cross-agency surveillance, Army psychological
      profiling, FBI updates. Repeated buzzwords like: "mentally
      unstable," "obsessed with Raymond Shaw," "delusional,"
      "borderline functional," "acute stress disorder ..."

                          ELLIE

                Isn't it disgraceful the way troubled
                individuals are allowed to simply walk
                around with the rest of us until
                something horrible happens? Another
                failure of the HMOs. I'm thinking of
                sponsoring a bill, with Senator Friedman
                of Rhode Island --

                          RAYMOND

                -- I don't care.

                          ELLIE

                Well, imagine how terrified your people
                were yesterday when Major Marco showed up
                at the airport and you invited him -- my
                God, invited him -- to tag along.
                Knowing what they knew.

                          RAYMOND

                I know him. I served under him.   He was
                a good man.




                                                     8/18/03   75.








                          ELLIE

                That's what the neighbors always say
                about serial killers.
      Raymond stares at an old PHOTOGRAPH OF MARCO: curled up in a
      fetal position, on a V.A. hospital bed.

                          ELLIE

                    (sighs)
                Perhaps we could arrange a promotion to a
                less stressful posting. Somewhere
                tropical.

125   INT. FEDERAL BUILDING - CONFERENCE ROOM - DAY                  125

      Marco with Howard, who's visibly upset. He likes Marco, it
      breaks his heart to watch him unravelling like this. Agent
      Volk remains in her chair, on the other side of the room:
      The door opens, and Col. Garret comes in, with Agent
      Goldring, who gives Marco back his personal effects, and:

                          AGENT GOLDRING

                Goodbye.
                    (to Marco)
                Get out of here.

                          LT. COL. HOWARD

                He's free to go?

                          AGENT GOLDRING

                Shaw won't press charges, and he's got
                juice with important friends. It's
                today's daily double.
      Agent Volk closes her notebook and moves past Goldring as he
      picks up the tape recorder. She glances at Howard, and
      leaves the room.

                          COLONEL GARRET

                Someone from Senator Eleanor Shaw's
                office called and intervened on your
                behalf.
      A beat.   Marco, trying to process all this:

                          COLONEL GARRET

                Major, you have reached the terminal end
                of the Army's patience. You're relieved
                of duty, effective immediately.

                          LT. COL. HOWARD

                There's a young neurologist at Walter
                Reed. Zahn. He's had considerable
                success with GWS -- I want you to get
                your affairs in order and report to him

                          (MORE)





                                                    8/18/03   76.








                          LT. COL. HOWARD (CONT'D)

                for evaluation and treatment first thing
                Monday morning.

                          MARCO

                Sir, I know all about Dr. Zahn.
                Remember? He's that guy who --
                    (catches himself)
                Sir. Yes sir.
                    (beat)
                I'm sorry.

                          LT. COL. HOWARD

                Me too, Ben.

126   OMITTED                                                        126


127   SERIES OF X-RAYS                                               127

      micro-circuitry, neat as a pin --

                          DELP'S VOICE

                I thought you said you lost this.

      TIGHT - THROUGH A STEREOSCOPIC MICROSCOPE - THE IMPLANT

      falls into focus, smooth and etched with integrated circuits
      as intricate and beautiful as a henna tattoo ...

                          MARCO'S VOICE

                I found it again.

128   INT. DELP'S LAB - SKYBOOTH - NIGHT                             128

      Delp looks up from the microscope, at Marco.

                          DELP

                These are not supposed to exist, man.
                These are only theoretical.
      -- leaves the statement hanging --

129   INT. DELP'S LAB - MAIN FLOOR - MOMENTS LATER                   129

      Delp freaked and hyper, gathering wires and whatnot from
      shelves -- a veritable armload, as:

                          DELP

                You sure you want to do this man?

                          MARCO

                Yes.

                          DELP

                -- because I don't.

                          MARCO

                I'll owe you one.




                                             8/18/03   77.







Delp rounds a corner -- monkeys scrambling around their
cages as he comes to the clearing where

MARCO

sits on one of the experimental gurneys, using a pen to
write on his arm.

                    DELP

          No. I'll still owe you for getting my
          sorry ass out of Albania.

                    MARCO

          -- Talk to me about the implant.

                    DELP

          Manchurian Global. Heard of 'em?
              (off Marco:)
          Private equity fund, specializes in
          military support services and weapons
          research ... including a certain Army
          implant project that went belly-up in the
          early 90s.

                    MARCO

          You said the Army implants were for
          medical emergency data.

                    DELP

          The ones they publicized were. But, oh
          man, there was a parallel project of all
          kinds of scary implantable shit the
          Clinton watchdogs finally freaked out
          over, and closed down.

                    MARCO

          How do you know all this?

                    DELP

          Cuz they funded me to make some of their
          scary shit.

                    MARCO

          What does it do?

                    DELP

          I don't know. I don't want to know. You
          don't want to know -- shit -- it's out of
          you, and you're still alive. That's the
          good news.
              (off his arm)
          What are you doing?

INTERCUT - MARCO'S FOREARM

He's scrawling words on his palm, with a ballpoint pen:

ROSIE. RAYMOND SHAW. MANCHURIAN-GLOBAL ...





                                           8/18/03     78.








                    MARCO

          Back-up in case this makes me forget some
          stuff I want to remember.

DELP

eases Marco back on the gurney, deftly puts some I.V. taps
into his arms. Marco's legs hang over the edge.

                    DELP

          These are built for monkeys, so bear
          with me, man.

SERIES OF SHOTS

He's putting thread-thin electrodes INTO Marco's head, just
beneath the skin.

                    DELP

          I'm putting you on a cocktail of
          methohexitol to take the edge off.

                    MARCO

          Edge off what?

                    DELP

          'Getting clarity.' Or whatever you want
          to call it -- ECT not being the precise
          science that, say, leeching is.
Wires snake across the floor to the ECT [Electro-Convulsive
Therapy] unit.

                    MARCO

          You don't think this is going to work.

                    DELP

          It's the desperation move, man. But,
          hey. There is a school of thought, says
          a victim of induced abreaction -- or
          ultra-paradoxical brain activity, if
          you're at all correct about what happened
          to you -- can have it effectively
          dispersed by electroshock. Unscrambled.

                    MARCO

          -- But?

                    DELP

          But the legions of naysayers will tell
          you that if the initial work's done
          correctly -- if the brain's been not just
          washed, but dry-cleaned --
Takes out a bite-guard and puts it in Marco's mouth:




                                                 8/18/03   79.








                          DELP

                -- fuhgetaboutit. No sale.
                    (then)
                Try to relax, okay?
      He throws the switch, sending electric current through
      Marco's head --
      -- Marco's body ARCHES off the table and he goes into
      seizure --

      IMAGES FADE IN AND OUT:

FB129 -- a man in a gas mask JAMS his rifle butt down. FADE        FB129

      OUT.

FBA129-- black-clad soldiers swarm Marco's team. FADE OUT.        FBA129
FBB129-- inside of a helicopter, grey light fluttering --         FBB129
      Laurent, gas mask down, confers with a pilot. FADE OUT.
FBC129-- jetting low across dark water as dawn breaks. FADE       FBC129

      OUT.

FBD129-- impression of an abandoned village --                    FBD129
FBE129-- an abandoned beach --                                    FBE129
FBF129-- ruins of an ancient caravansary --                       FBF129
FBG129-- float DOWN on the upturned face of NOYLE. FADE OUT.      FBG129
FBH129-- Marco's HEAD SLAMMED DOWN, hard surface, a gun-like      FBH129
      ELECTRIC IMPLANT device FIRES its package into the skin
      near Marco's shoulder-blade. FADE OUT.
FBI129-- impressions of Melvin, Baker, Mavole, drugged, wired     FBI129
      up. FADE OUT.
FBJ129-- Raymond releasing Mavole's throat --                     FBJ129
FBK129-- Bobby Baker, bloody hole in his forehead, falling        FBK129
      away --
FBL129-- the crazy pattern of the tile --                         FBL129
FBM129-- and Marco running, RUSHING FORWARD -- toward daylight,   FBM129
      past other platoon members, wires and I.V. tubes snaking
      upward, watching animated Raymond Shaw hero footage on a
      plasma screen, patriotic music BLARING.
FBN129-- breaking outside, a glimpse of the azure sea waiting     FBN129
      there --
      -- but DOWN, TACKLED ... FADE OUT.
FBO129-- stumbling from helicopters into a rotor-torn             FBO129
      sandstorm -- the dust clearing to reveal ... weary,
      dazed, exhausted soldiers in the middle of nowhere, under   an
      angry sun ...
      ... the SCREEN BLOOMS WHITE, and completely empty -- like an
      Arabian desert --

130   EXT. CENTRAL PARK - DAY                                          130

      Marco opens his eyes to the glare of a crisp autumn sun,
      surreal colors: blue sky, shimmering green, the skyline.
      His head is in Rosie's lap, he lies curled in the grass.
      A banana-yellow motorized model plane buzzes in tight
      circles overhead.




                                                      8/18/03   80.







        Rosie's talking, but Ben can't hear her.    Just the buzzing.
        She stops, looks at him.

                             ROSIE

                   Blank again?
        Marco tries to say something, his mouth is dry.

                             ROSIE

                   He said this would happen.
        Marco stares, trying to orient himself. His arm comes up to
        shade his eyes -- nothing written on it.

                               MARCO

                   Who?

                             ROSIE

                   Your friend.

                             MARCO

                   I don't remember a friend.
        Nothing.

                             ROSIE

                   Kind of like a computer system crash --
                   your brain goes down, then you boot up
                   again, but you lose all your RAM.
                       (hesitates)
                   Do you remember me?

                             MARCO

                       (after a beat)
                   Eugenie Rose.
        Rosie smiles.     Marco closes his eyes again and --

                                                SCREEN GOES BLACK.

        Silence.   Two beats.
        Then the SOUND OF A TELEVISION fades up:

TV130                        NEWSCASTER #3                            TV130

                   U.S. planes bombed selected sites in
                   Guinea today, acting on intelligence that
                   the African nation's military regime had
                   secretly resumed its chemical weapons
                   program ...

131     TIGHT - A TELEVISION (VIDEO)                                     131

131A    Campaign footage of Raymond Shaw visiting schools in the        131A
131B    inner city, Arthur riding horses in Wyoming, the two men        131B
131C    meeting with business leaders in Chicago.                       131C




                                                    8/18/03   81.








TV131                       NEWSCASTER #4                           TV131

                  ... latest USA Today polls indicate a
                  "secure tomorrow" for Gov. Robert Arthur
                  and Congressman Raymond Shaw. The duo
                  holds a commanding lead, entering the
                  last two weeks of the campaign ...

132     INT. ROSIE'S COUSIN'S APARTMENT - NIGHT                       132

        Marco wakes up, still in a bed. Alone. The room bathed in
        blue light from the small television where the news drones.

TV132 OMITTED                                                       TV132

        Rosie comes out of the bathroom, wearing a long New York
        Rangers jersey, bare-legged, barefoot, hair wet from a
        shower. Beautiful.

                            MARCO

                  It's Wednesday.

                            ROSIE

                  Yes.

                            MARCO

                  Central Park was Monday.   I came home
                  Friday.

                            ROSIE

                      (smiles)
                  That's right.
        A long beat. Marco stares at the t.v. as she sits on the
        edge of the bed, rubs her hair with a towel.

                            MARCO

                  How did I get here?

                            ROSIE

                  You called me.

                            MARCO

                  El Dorado 59970.
                      (beat)
                  I remembered.
                      (beat)
                  I remember, and I didn't dream.

                            ROSIE

                  It's been weird, talking to you. Knowing
                  that you could fall asleep with your eyes
                  open and wake up and have forgotten the
                  whole conversation. I hope to God that
                  part's over.

                            MARCO

                  What'd we talk about?




                                                   8/18/03   82.








                           ROSIE

                     (vague)
                 Stuff.
                     (then)
                 You said you "loved" me. Not to scare
                 you. Out of nowhere, but more than once.

                           MARCO

                 I remember that.
      Beat.   She smiles.   She leans in, kisses him lightly.

                             ROSIE

                 Liar.

                           MARCO

                 What else did we talk about?
      Rosie opens her mouth --

                                             SCREEN GOES BLACK.

      Two beats of silence, then --

133   INT. ROSIE'S COUSIN'S APARTMENT - BEDROOM - DAWN               133

      Marco wakes up. Clear headed. Calm. Rosie is asleep
      beside him on the bed. The television is off.

134   INT. BATHROOM - DAWN                                           134

      Marco drinks water from the faucet, wipes his mouth. Stares
      at himself in the mirror -- he looks like death warmed over.
      Starts to smile ...
      ... but his eyes stray up to the half-open mirror of the
      vanity -- reflecting, behind him, the bathroom wall: towel
      racks, wall paper, a high VENT ... with a FAINT RED LED
      glowing INSIDE.

      JUMP CUT: MARCO

      Standing on the edge of the tub, stretched out, face pressed
      up to the vent, trying to see inside --

      SUBJECTIVE: MARCO (B&W) - THROUGH THE VENT

      Looking back at Marco, peering in.   Slightly warped by the
      lens. Freaking out.

      RESUME - MARCO

      He can just make out the shadow of a TINY VIDEO CAMERA,
      wires snaking back into the ducting, micro-lens adjusting
      automatically to focus.




                                                 8/18/03   83.







      He slips off the tub, nearly falls, catches himself --

135   INT. ROSIE'S COUSIN'S APARTMENT - DAWN                        135

      Marco taping newspapers over all the heating vents --

      INT. ROSIE'S COUSIN'S APARTMENT - DAWN

      Marco going through cupboard, drawers, closets, looking for
      ... what, exactly?
      He doesn't know. His world is caving in.   He pivots, looks
      at Rosie, still sleeping.

      INT. ROSIE'S COUSIN'S APARTMENT - DAWN

      Rosie's purse is dumped out on the table, and now Marco's
      going through her suitcase.
      He's dressed, now, even has his coat on.
      Pulling out her clothing, discovering, at the bottom:

      FILE FOLDERS, NOTES, REPORTS

      Much of the same material that Eleanor Shaw showed Raymond.
      Incriminating stuff about Marco, timetables, surveillance
      photographs, psychiatric evaluations and

      AUDIO TAPES

      Microcassettes, neatly labelled with dates and hours ...

      INTERCUT - SUBJECTIVE: SAME (B&W) - SURVEILLANCE


                           ROSIE

                Ben?
      Rosie, rolling off the bed, sleepy, crossing to where Marco
      is gathering the files --

                          ROSIE

                What are you ... oh God.
      Sees the hard look on Marco's face. Newspapers over all the
      vents. Opens her mouth to explain but Marco SWINGS HARD,
      and hits her -- she partially blocks it with her forearm --
      backhands her onto the floor --

                          MARCO

                You're part of it.
      -- then he's moving, out the door --

                           ROSIE

                Don't --




                                                    8/18/03   84.







      She leaps at him -- SHOVES him hard into the wall, and when
      he whirls to shake her off, slips down and uses his weight
      and momentum to toss Marco crashing halfway back across the
      room.
      Now she's between him and the door.

                          ROSIE

                Don't do this, Ben.    It's not what you
                think.

                          MARCO

                How can you know what I think?
      He tries to get past her again --

      THEY FIGHT

      Rosie can't beat him, but she's extremely skilled -- Marco
      gets stung twice by hard rights -- but whirls, all-defense,
      an improvised rope-a-dope that gives him the opening he
      needs --
      -- he SMACKS Rosie sharply, stunning her -- and as she rocks
      backward he flies out the door --

                          ROSIE


                BEN!


136   EXT. APARTMENT BUILDING - DAWN                                 136

      Marco bursts out of the doorway, into the grey light of
      morning, and runs, the files fluttering under his arm.

137   OMITTED                                                        137


138   INT. SKYBOOTH OF DELP'S LAB - DAY                              138

      A CARETAKER rattling keys impatiently behind him, Marco
      stands looking down into the pit of the abandoned lab.
      Delp and the monkeys are gone. Empty cages and unplugged
      equipment are all that remain of Delp and his fear project.
      The utter quiet is deafening.

139   EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - DAY                                    139

      Marco moving, head down, eyes everywhere -- anybody could be
      following him. Anybody could be watching him. Anybody
      could be part of this.
      PRELAP sound of a tape fast-forwarding and:




                                                    8/18/03   85.








                          ROSIE'S VOICE

                    (audio surveillance tape)
                You said you "loved" me ...

140   EXT. NEW YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY - ESTABLISHING                   140


141   TIGHT - A MICROFICHE SCREEN                                   141

      scrolling old newspapers in a BLUR.

                          ROSIE'S VOICE

                ... Not to scare you. Out of nowhere,
                but more than once.

                          MARCO'S VOICE

                I remember.
      WHIR of rewinding audio --

142   INT. NEW YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY - DEEP IN THE STACKS - DAY       142

      Marco deep in research, at a small table covered with books
      and paper -- a crazy man's kind of chaos.
      The file he stole from Rosie's is disemboweled across the
      desktop. A library tape machine plays one of the
      surveillance tapes he's stolen from Rosie's:

                          MARCO'S VOICE

                    (bleeding through earphones)
                What else did we talk about?

      INTERCUT - MICROFICHE

      stories flip past ...

                          ROSIE'S VOICE

                Raymond Shaw. And about what happened to
                you, after you were captured. Black
                helicopters, secret laboratories, mind
                drugs, mad scientists, shock-torture ...

                          MARCO'S VOICE

                You don't believe any of it.

                          ROSIE'S VOICE

                It's crazy. It sounds crazy.

                          MARCO'S VOICE

                -- maybe that's what they want.     Maybe
                that's what they want.

      INTERCUT - TAPE MACHINE

143   Marco pops out one tape, pushes in another.    WHIR of the    143
      tape rewinding again, then:




                                                   8/18/03   86.








                          MARCO'S VOICE

                -- I watched Raymond Shaw kill someone.
                I watched him kill Private Eddie Mavole.
                Like it was nothing.

FB143 FLASHBACK: ROSIE'S APARTMENT                                 FB143

      Marco, on the bed, numb.

                          MARCO

                And I think they made me kill someone
                too. One of my people. Kid named Bobby
                Baker.
      Rosie puts her arms around him --

                          ROSIE

                Or they want you to think that you did.
      -- Marco doesn't react -- WHIR of audio fast-forward --

144   RESUME - LIBRARY                                                 144

      Marco takes his thumb off the shuttle button and --

                          MARCO'S VOICE

                ... We were all hooked up to IV tubes and
                wires and equipment -- heart monitors,
                head monitors, electroshock -- and a lot
                of stuff I've never seen before ...
      ... Finding, finally, an inside page of the SCIENCE &
      TECHNOLOGY section of the Times, with the headline:

             MANCHURIAN HOPES NEW IMPLANTS SAVE LIVES

      ... and a p.r. PHOTO of Managing Director David R. Donovan,
      smiling, flanked by a TEAM OF SCIENTISTS. The caption only
      mentions Donovan by name -- in the picture his hand is
      extended, he's got a tiny implant device cupped in his palm.

                          ROSIE'S VOICE

                Did he have a name?

                          MARCO'S VOICE

                What?
      Marco stares at the photograph.

      PANNING TIGHT - ACROSS THE SCIENTISTS

      in the b.g. of the photograph.    HOLDING on one, half-hidden,
      just slightly out of focus.
      It's Noyle.




                                                   8/18/03   87.








                          ROSIE'S VOICE

                The doctor, Ben -- what was his name?
                Can you remember?
      A long beat.   Marco racks his memory.   Then --

                           MARCO

                Noyle.   They called him Dr. Noyle.
      PUSH in until Noyle is just a mass of pixels --

                                                         CRASH:


145   TIGHT - COMPUTER STATION - ANOTHER SECTION OF THE LIBRARY      145

      A Google search.   Marco types the name: NOYLE.

      INTERCUT - COMPUTER SCREEN

      A GOVERNMENT website:

         SOUTH AFRICAN TRUTH AND RECONCILIATION COMMITTEE

      Thumbnail photos of "25 SCIENTISTS ACCUSED OF HUMAN

      EXPERIMENTATION ON POLITICAL PRISONERS."

      SCROLLING DOWN ... UNTIL a photo of Atticus Noyle is center-
      screen. Smiling out at us.
      CLICK: HEADLINES -- "Capetown U. Scientist Expelled: Alleged
      CIA Ties" -- "Genome Researcher Sought for Questioning by
      The Hague" --
      ON MARCO -- energized by what he's seeing --
      CLICK: SLIDE OVER NOYLE'S FACE -- key words like "genetic
      memory enhancement," "behavioral modification" ... a
      QUICKTIME VIDEO that Marco activates, and --

146   IN STREAMING VIDEO: NOYLE                                      146

      His sanitized, early sales pitch, all digitized and degraded
      -- an old web interview:

                          NOYLE

                ... we really can reinvent ourselves, you
                know, by the remapping of the human
                genome. Strengthen character, enhance
                personality, not unlike tummy tucks and
                breast augmentation. Generate
                extraordinary abilities in math, music,
                athletics. Tweak the sympathy gene,
                boost self-confidence --




                                                    8/18/03   88.








      CLOSE - ON MARCO

      staring, excited -- the freak from his nightmares is real --

                          NOYLE (O.S.)

                    (streaming audio)
                -- broaden the very parameters of memory,
                to offset the ravages of dementia -- or
                virtually liberate an individual from the
                limitations imposed by damaging previous
                experiences -- literally freeing them
                from the burden of their past ...

147   EXT. PENN STATION - DAY                                        147

      Raining, hard. Marco hurrying toward the station entrance,
      his research jammed under his arm, and in a grocery bag he's
      found somewhere.
      Collides with a guy in a suit. Papers go everywhere --
      Marco YELLS at the guy and scrambles to pick up his
      documents, shoving people out of the way --

                                                   FREEZE FRAME.


      SERIES OF STILL SURVEILLANCE PHOTOS - SAME

      Marco scrambling to get his stuff back together.    He looks
      like a crazy street person.

                                                         CRASH:


148   EXT. WASHINGTON D.C. - CAPITOL HILL - DUSK                     148

      A sun throws yellow across the Mall, and the Senate Office
      buildings are ribboned with shadows.

149   INT. SENATOR JORDAN'S OFFICE - DUSK                            149

      Jordan behind his desk, staring at a white business card
      while a high-strung AIDE leans in, talking low:

                          AIDE

                I called the Pentagon.   They told me he's
                on medical leave.
      The calling card is Marco's, from Army Intelligence. Jordan
      flips it over. Marco has scrawled "DO YOU STILL WANT TO BE

      VICE PRESIDENT?"


                          AIDE

                Secret Service, they've got him on a
                couple of their watch and observe lists.
      Through a gap in the doorway, Jordan can SEE Marco sitting
      in his outer office, bag of evidence at his feet, hunched
      forward, staring at the floor.




                                                 8/18/03     89.








                          AIDE

                I guess there's been some trouble with
                this guy, involving Congressman Shaw.
      At the mention of the Shaw name, Jordan looks up --

150   INT. SMALL CONFERENCE ROOM - DUSK                             150

      Jordan sits behind the table, all of Marco's documents and
      evidence arranged tidily in front of him in meager piles,
      Marco pacing, watching as Jordan finishes examining a thick
      Atticus Noyle computer print out.

                          JORDAN

                Nobody will believe this.

                          MARCO

                Nobody believed Watergate.
      He sits down, opposite Jordan.

                          MARCO

                Or Oklahoma City, or the World Trade
                Center. You wouldn't have believed
                Oswald before Kennedy got shot.

                          JORDAN

                On the advisory board of Manchurian-
                Global, should they ever publish a list --
                which they won't -- you would find former
                Presidents, deposed Kings, retired Prime
                Ministers, Ayatollahs, African War-Lords,
                fallen Communist Dictators and an
                assortment of the Fucking Rich, who are
                distinguished from the merely Filthy Rich
                by factors of billions.
      He puts the Noyle file down, pushes everything away.

                          JORDAN

                You bring me rumors and conjecture.

                          MARCO

                I started with nightmares, sir. Rumors
                and conjecture are a giant leap forward.

                          JORDAN

                Nightmares you've interpreted, using as
                primary resources a) your spotty memory,
                b) the internet -- sacred sanctuary of
                idiots and nutters -- and c) random faces
                and coincidences, and evidence you chewed
                out of a man's back -- all neatly
                stitched together with the common thread
                of a powerful, well-connected private
                equity fund -- who will plead ignorance,
                and be shocked, shocked, to learn what

                          (MORE)





                                                    8/18/03   90.








                           JORDAN (CONT'D)

                 some of their subsidiary partners are
                 engaged in.

                           MARCO

                 Sir, I don't give a rat's ass about
                 Manchurian Global! That's not why I'm
                 here!
                     (beat)
                 I can't touch them, I get that, I'm not
                 stupid, sir.
       A cold silence.   Marco stares at Jordan.

                           MARCO

                 I just want to try and stop this one
                 thing -- this Raymond Shaw bomb -- from
                 going off.
       Jordan nods again, slightly.    Lost in thought.

                           MARCO

                 And I'd be lying if I told you I hadn't
                 factored in huge that you've got a vested
                 personal, political, and patriotic
                 interest in how this shakes out.

                                                           CRASH:


151    OMITTED                                                        151


A152   OMITTED                                                      A152


152    EXT. ELEANOR'S VIRGINIA MANSION - NIGHT                        152

       A limousine pulls up in front, followed by a car full of
       Secret Service. Anderson floats out and opens the door for
       Raymond ...

153    INT. PRENTISS MANSION - NIGHT                                  153

       An argument in progress as Raymond shrugs off his overcoat
       into the hands of a SERVANT.
       The low murmur of Jordan's voice, then INCREDULOUS LAUGHTER:

                           ELLIE (O.S.)

                 Lies. Fabrications. Fiction. You've
                 been waiting to do this to me for, what,
                 twenty years? Get out.

                           JORDAN (O.S.)

                 No, I'll wait until Raymond gets here and
                 we can all --

                           ELLIE (O.S.)

                 Get out of my house.
       Raymond proceeds down the hallway to --




                                                  8/18/03   91.








154   INT. STUDY - CONTINUOUS                                       154

      Raymond entering, closing the door behind him as Ellie
      throws documents across the room at Jordan:

                          ELLIE

                The man is insane, Tom -- full-blown
                schizophrenia -- he's been stalking
                Raymond -- if you dare to use this --
      Now they see Raymond, under the imposing Andrew Wyeth
      painting of Tyler Prentiss that dominates one whole wall of
      the study, and Ellie stops.

                          ELLIE

                    (to Raymond)
                Your bipolar buddy has been sharing his
                dreams with Senator Jordan.

                          JORDAN

                Hello Raymond.
      Raymond smiles -- it's terrifying -- the fragile, forced,
      frigid smile of a man in pain.

                          RAYMOND

                Hello Senator. How's Jocie?
      Jordan picks up a picture of Noyle and smoothes it onto the
      desk for Raymond to see, as:

                          ELLIE

                Can we please not go down that road?

                          JORDAN

                Do you recognize this man?

                          RAYMOND

                No.

                          JORDAN

                His name is Atticus Noyle. He is a South
                African physician, neuropsychiatric
                scientist and mercenary -- someone our
                CIA trained for covert mind warfare
                against the Soviets in Aghanistan --
                someone who has sold technology to and
                done research for terrorist groups, and
                rogue states. Major Marco claims that
                this man --

                ELLIE                           JORDAN

                                      -- brainwashed you --
      -- In his dreams.

                          RAYMOND

                Sir, Ben Marco is sick.   Delusional.




                                              8/18/03   92.








                     JORDAN

           Nevertheless he's pulled from his mad hat
           some remarkably lucid connections between
           his dreams of your exploits in Kuwait,
           and this Dr. Noyle, and the private
           equity fund Manchurian Global --
Raymond frowns, looks from Jordan to Ellie.

                     JORDAN

           -- your mother's primary political
           benefactor for the past fifteen years.

                     ELLIE

           Christ, Tom. They contribute to half the
           Senate, for God's sake.
Silence.

                     RAYMOND

           I don't understand.

                     JORDAN

           At the time of Desert Storm, Dr. Atticus
           Noyle was working under a research grant
           from Manchurian Global. Your mother's
           friend.
The color suddenly drains out of Ellie's face.

                     RAYMOND

           What?

                     JORDAN

           Rogue scientists. Mind control.
           Manchurian Global. Your mother. You.
           Connect the dots, Raymond. Possibly,
           your mother's blind to them, because they
           pay their way --

                     ELLIE

           Possibly the Senator's motives are
           colored by his desperation to get himself
           back on the presidential ticket now that
           the heavy lifting is done --

                     RAYMOND

               (unraveling)
           I don't -- I don't --

                     JORDAN

           It's not about me. As far as I'm
           concerned, this should never come out --
           it would shred what little remains of the
           fabric of our public trust -- think of
           the nation --




                                            8/18/03    93.








                     RAYMOND

           I don't have the dreams.

                     ELLIE

           He can't prove anything.

                     JORDAN

           Everything you stand for is upside down!
           If this were to come out, true or no, it
           would be catastrophic for the campaign.
               (beat, a threat?)
           And it will come out.

                     RAYMOND

           What are you saying?
Silence.   The question hangs there.

                     RAYMOND

           What do I do?

                     JORDAN

           You withdraw. You bow out gracefully.
           Personal reasons. An obscure illness.
           Yield your spot on the ticket, go into
           seclusion ...
He glances coolly at Ellie --

                     JORDAN

           ... and then surrender yourself to
           federal authorities who can help you
           address the damage that may have been
           inflicted on you.
-- and walks out. Raymond and Eleanor have hardly moved.
Sound of the front door opening, closing.

                     RAYMOND

           I feel sick. Christ.   What have you done
           to me?

                     ELLIE

           Raymond, remember when --

                     RAYMOND

           NO, never mind -- don't bother. Don't
           lie. Don't say anything. No more lies.
There are actual tears in Ellie's eyes.   Raymond just stares
at her, coldly.

                     RAYMOND

           I can promise you that whatever you've
           done, I will undo it.




                                                    8/18/03   94.








                          ELLIE

                I know -- I know, baby --

                          RAYMOND

                I never want to see you or speak to you
                again --

                          ELLIE

                Raymond --

                          RAYMOND

                -- I mean it this time.
      Raymond heads for the door --

                          ELLIE

                Sergeant Shaw --
      Raymond slows -- curious to be addressed like this -- sound
      of the desert wind rises --

                          ELLIE

                -- Sergeant Raymond Shaw --
      He's turning -- the room coming alive -- light shifting,
      intensifying -- that terrible vividness -- and the wall of
      the zaghareet ...

      EXTREMELY CLOSE ON - ELLIE


                          ELLIE

                Raymond Prentiss Shaw --
                    (sad)
                Listen:

                                                          CRASH:


155   INT. UNION STATION - WASHINGTON D.C. - DAWN                    155

      Marco jolts awake, as if from a bad dream, startled --
      cramped on a bench, just another rumpled, weary traveler --
      early morning commuters gliding past him like a fog.

156   EXT. CHESAPEAKE BAY - JORDAN'S HOUSE - DAWN                    156

      A lacy fog rising from the reeds on the shoreline as the
      Senator drags his kayak from under the pilings of a
      pristine, clapboard cottage to the edge of the water.

157   INT. JORDAN'S HOUSE - DAWN                                     157

      The house is beautiful, everything perfect. FLOAT through
      FINDING Jocie in a back bedroom, waking slowly in a huge
      bed, rolling to look out the window and watch her father, in
      his kayak, paddling away ...




                                                    8/18/03   95.








158   INT. UNION STATION - WASHINGTON D.C. - DAWN                       158

      Marco grabs a coffee from off a Starbucks counter, picks up
      his bag and heads toward the New York City line platform, to
      catch his train --

159   EXT. CHESAPEAKE BAY - JORDAN'S KAYAK - DAY                        159

      The Senator rows with confidence, his bow cuts the glassy
      surface of the bay, fog ripples away from him, dreamy.
      Up ahead, he can see the ghost of his house.      And a figure
      on the shoreline.

                          JORDAN

                Who's that?

                          RAYMOND

                It's me, sir.

      JORDAN

      stops paddling, and lets the kayak drift in.      He's breaking
      hard, sweat glistening on his face.

      RAYMOND

      sloshes down into the water, wades out waist-deep --

                           JORDAN

                Wait.   Oh, don't do that, I can --

                          RAYMOND

                I came to apologize, sir.

                          JORDAN

                -- the water must be freezing. What are
                you doing? Raymond. Don't bother, I
                can --
      Raymond catches the bow of the kayak, turns it.

                          RAYMOND

                I'm sorry.

                            JORDAN

                I am too.    But, your mother must --
      With one motion, Raymond RIPS the two-blade paddle out of
      Jordan's hand, and FLIPS the boat over --

                          RAYMOND

                I'm sorry, sir.
      -- Jordan goes under, legs trapped in the kayak --




                                                  8/18/03    96.








160   UNDER THE WATER - JORDAN                                       160

      flailing -- trying to get out of the kayak, incapacitated by
      the cold water --

161   INT. JORDAN'S HOUSE - DAWN                                     161

      Jocie wanders, sleepy, into the main room, pulling on a
      hooded sweatshirt -- and SEES, THROUGH THE BAY WINDOWS:
      -- her father's upended kayak.
      -- a figure in the water, as if trying to save him --

162   EXT. JORDAN'S HOUSE - DAWN                                     162

      Jocie sprints down toward the water, screaming --

                          JOCELYN


                DADDY!

      -- Raymond turns and sees her running toward him. For a
      moment time stands still -- Jocie trying to process Raymond
      Shaw in the water with her father, and Raymond trying to
      process, through the curtain of his fractured consciousness,
      Jocelyn Jordan.

      JOCELYN

      leaps into the water, thinking she'll help with a rescue.
      The cold hits her like a sledgehammer -- followed by the
      realization Raymond's trying to drown her father --

                          JOCELYN

                Raymond, what are you doing?!   No!   Stop
                it! Stop --!
      She tries to shove Raymond away from the boat, but

      RAYMOND

      turns, grabs her by the hood of her sweatshirt --
      -- and whipsaws her out into the deeper water, shoving her
      under it.
      Jocelyn's hands claw at him, but he's stronger, and the
      water has no effect on him.
      She thrashes wildly ... and he looks down at her through the
      water, hair flowing, utterly beautiful ... as if in a dream.

                          RAYMOND

                    (far away)
                Shhhhhhhh.




                                                   8/18/03    97.







        Jocelyn weakens ... succumbs ... her body floats away.

163     NEWS COVERAGE - LATER - SAME DAY (VIDEO)                      163

TVA163Cold tapestry of images behind the MAJOR MEDIA ICON:      TVA163
      police, paramedics, bodies pulled from the water, Jordan's
      empty house.

TV163                       MEDIA ICON                              TV163

                  ... the five-term Senator -- and recent
                  front-runner for his party's vice
                  presidential nomination -- appears to
                  have accidentally drowned when his kayak
                  overturned near his Chesapeake Bay home.
                  Police say his daughter, Jocelyn, 35, may
                  have been trying to rescue Jordan when
                  she was, herself, overcome by the icy
                  water ...

164     CAMPAIGN COVERAGE                                             164

        an impromptu stand-up with visibly-shaken presidential
        candidate Arthur outside ARTHUR-SHAW campaign headquarters:

TV164                       ARTHUR                                  TV164

                  Horrible, horrible thing. Senator Jordan
                  was a statesman of the highest integrity.
                      (fighting emotions)
                  Tom Jordan was a friend. A damn fine
                  man. A great American.

165     INT. PENN STATION - MANHATTAN - MARCO                         165

        staring numbly at the news report on a little portable t.v.
        in a NEWS KIOSK --

166     INT. CAMPAIGN RALLY - DAY                                     166

        SLOWING MOTION: the world a blur around Raymond as he walks
        a gauntlet of reporters shouting questions: about policy,
        about Jordan. Expressionless, he just keeps walking, but
        his lips move --
        -- "tragedy" -- "senseless" -- "great loss" --

167     EXT. GROUNDS OF ELLIE'S MANSION - DAY                         167

        Donovan walking beside Senator Eleanor Prentiss Shaw.
        Whiting just behind them.

                            DONOVAN

                  You trusted us to bring your son back to
                  you, and we deliver. We trusted you with
                  our technology -- and now you turn him
                  into a common hit man.




                                                  8/18/03   98.








                          ELLIE

                Oh, don't lecture me --

                          DONOVAN

                You didn't even ask us.   You needed to
                ask.

                          ELLIE

                Tom Jordan was going to destroy
                everything we've worked toward, and every
                one of us along with it, and you want me
                to call a meeting?

                          WHITING

                David, if Jordan had gone public --

                          DONOVAN

                In any endeavor, there are key players
                and role players, and Raymond -- or you,
                or me, for that matter -- I'm sorry -- we
                are role players, with fixed values and
                fixed agendas, that get weighed against
                other factors.
      Ellie stops, looks at him.

                          ELLIE

                Bullshit.
                    (then)
                You can tell yourself that as you go to
                bed tonight, David, and I hope it helps
                you wake up tomorrow with a clean
                conscience -- but we are talking about my
                son and the future of this country.
                    (beat)
                My father, Tyler Prentiss, never asked.
                He just did what needed to be done.

168   INT. ROSIE'S COUSIN'S APARTMENT - NIGHT                         168

      Rosie asleep. PUSH IN RAPIDLY ... then a HAND comes down
      hard and efficiently against her throat --
      -- she wakes up, fighting for air --

                          MARCO

                    (a whisper)
                How does the President die?
      He sits on top of her, pinning her arms down.   She struggles
      to say something. Marco shakes his head.




                                            8/18/03   99.








                     MARCO

          When.   Where. How.
He releases her throat, and she gasps for air --

                    MARCO

          I'm gonna stop this. We'll go to the
          Feds. You and me. And tell them a
          story.

                    ROSIE

          Who'll -- believe --

                    MARCO

          I don't know. I don't care any more.
          It's all I have.
Rosie bucks -- gets a hand free -- SLUGS, Marco, and they
tumble off the bed in a tangle of blankets and limbs --

ROSIE

comes up holding a 9 mm revolver to Marco's forehead.

                    ROSIE

          I am the Feds.
She coughs.   Marco stares at her, dumbfounded.

                    ROSIE

          We've been watching you, trying to sort
          this out. I mean, it's either you're
          telling it straight and we've all got
          something big-time to worry about, or
          you're crazy and dangerous -- either way
          we've had to keep you on a short leash,
          'cuz if we lock you up we'll never know.
              (beat)
          And we can't tell anybody because we
          don't know how deep this river runs.
              (beat)
          If there is a river.
              (off his expression)
          You got away from me.

                    MARCO

          Raymond Shaw murdered Senator Jordan and
          his daughter.

                    ROSIE

              (shaking her head)
          Oh Ben. The thing is? I want to believe
          you. God help me, Ben, I do.

                    MARCO

          -- he's a time bomb, ticking --




                                                 8/18/03     100.








                           ROSIE

                 Everybody else wants you junked up on
                 Thorazine and just not a problem any
                 more.

                           MARCO

                 I am clearer on this than I've ever been.
                 It's rich guys, funding bad science, to
                 put a sleeper in the White House --

                           ROSIE

                 Listen to yourself. You're a poster boy
                 for paranoid fantasies.
      Beat.   Silence, broken only by their breathing.

                           MARCO

                 I screwed up. Jordan was my trump card,
                 and I screwed it up.
                     (then)
                 Either help me, or shoot me, Rosie.
                 There's no middle ground anymore.
      He gets up -- Rosie's not going to shoot him --

                                                 SMASH CUT TO:


169   NOYLE                                                         169

      frowning --

                           NOYLE

                 Raymond -- Raymond --

                                                           TURN:


      DREAMSCAPE - AS BEFORE

      Raymond hands a service revolver past Noyle, to
      MARCO -- who primes it, aims --

                           NOYLE (O.S.)

                 Captain Marco, would you please shoot
                 Private Baker so we can move on?

      -- MARCO SHOOTS BAKER IN THE FOREHEAD --


170   INT. LIMOUSINE - MORNING                                      170


                           RAYMOND

                 Aaaahhhhhhh --!
      Raymond awakens with a startled about, face flushed,
      sweating. Terrified --




                                                8/18/03     101.








                          MIRELLA/ANDERSON

                Aaaahhhhhh --!
      -- Raymond finds himself in the back seat of his limo, his
      campaign aide Mirella, her assistant, and Anderson, all
      startled and shouting too --

                            MIRELLA

                You okay?

                            RAYMOND

                Yeah.    Yes. Bad dream.

                          ANDERSON

                We've arrived, Congressman.
      Raymond sits up.

                            RAYMOND

                Okay.

171   EXT. P.S. 16 - WESTCHESTER - DAY                               171

      Raymond emerges to cameras and fanfare -- it's election day,
      and he's going to vote.
      Anderson and other agents clear a path up the steps into the
      ELEMENTARY SCHOOL VOTING SITE. Reporters shout questions
      that Raymond just answers with his professional smile.

172   INT. P.S. 16 - GYMNASIUM - DAY                                 172

      A temporary polling place. Flags, tables, not too crowded.
      VOTERS stepping out of the way. POLL VOLUNTEERS pressing in
      to shake hands and wish Raymond Shaw good luck. And

      ROSIE

      on the edge. She badges Anderson, and talks to him. He
      nods, moves over and talks quietly to Raymond as Raymond
      signs his name in the voter registration log.
      Then lets Rosie guide him to a booth on the end --

173   INT. VOTING BOOTH - RAYMOND                                    173

      pulls the giant lever, the curtains close, finds --
      A NOTE -- folded, taped to the machine.
      RAYMOND -- opens it, reads it.




                                                8/18/03     102.








      VOTING BOOTH - MOMENTS LATER

      the curtain opens and Raymond steps out, smiling again.
      Cameras flash, video crews wave boom mikes, expecting a
      sound bite:

                          RAYMOND

                I was on the fence when I walked in there
                ... but then I saw my name on the ballot
                and I knew what I had to do.
      Laughter. He whispers to a poll volunteer, and she points
      him down a hallway --

174   INT. P.S. 16 - CORRIDOR                                       174

      Raymond, Rosie and his Secret Service detail -- Rosie leads
      them to a doorway, holds it open for Raymond, but puts her
      hand lightly on Anderson's chest when he starts to go in to
      sweep the room --

                          ROSIE

                It's clean.

175   INT. P.S. 16 - SPECIAL ED. ROOM - DAY                         175

      Small, and private. Raymond turns on the light. Marco is
      in the corner, waiting. His Noyle File in one hand.

                          MARCO

                How's your back?

                            RAYMOND

                It hurts.

                          MARCO

                I'm sorry.
      Raymond locks the door, turns, takes in the room: tiny
      chairs and tables, walls covered with kids' drawings, and
      nearly every object in the room named and labelled with 3x5
      cards.

                          RAYMOND

                I've been having the dreams, Ben.

                          MARCO

                That's good.

                          RAYMOND

                Good? They're inside my head. They got
                inside, the way you said they would --

                          MARCO

                We'll get 'em out.




                                                    8/18/03   103.








                          RAYMOND

                They're all ... twisted together -- and I
                dream things, terrible things, that can't
                possibly have happened. I'm gone, Ben --
                I'm losing it --

                          MARCO

                No -- you could have had me locked up --
                and you didn't. That's a sign.

                           RAYMOND

                Of what?

                          MARCO

                That they don't control everything. We
                can fight it. I mean -- I'm still out
                here because you decided I should be --
                which means there's a part they can't get
                to, deep inside -- the part where the
                truth is, and they can't touch us there.
                That's what we need to tap into, Raymond,
                that's the part where, you and me, we're
                gonna take them out.

                          RAYMOND

                Jocie's dead.

                           MARCO

                I know.

                          RAYMOND

                -- and the Senator.

                           MARCO

                Yeah.
      Beat.

                          RAYMOND

                Did I do it?

                          MARCO

                I think so, yeah.

                          RAYMOND

                I don't remember.     I don't remember it.
      Raymond looks up at Ben.     Emotionless.   Uncomprehending.

176   INTERCUT - CORRIDOR - ROSIE AND ANDERSON                       176

      down the hallway, standing sentinel. Anderson checks his
      watch, glances uncomfortably back at the door -- then at
      Rosie, who just stares him down.




                                                  8/18/03    104.








177   RESUME - SPECIAL ED. ROOM - RAYMOND                           177

      Tears run down his face, but his voice is normal, he stays
      expressionless. He rubs his eyes with the heel of his hand.

                          RAYMOND

                I'm all inside-out.
      KNOCKING on the door.

                            ANDERSON (O.S.)

                Mr. Shaw?

                          RAYMOND

                Just a minute.
      Raymond's cell phone RINGS.

                          RAYMOND

                All I've ever done is what I was supposed
                to do. What I was told to do --

                          MARCO

                Raymond -- focus --

                          RAYMOND

                -- What others want me to do.

                          MARCO

                Did they tell you what they want you to
                do, Ray? We gotta know what's gonna
                happen, we gotta know when's it gonna
                happen -- you can help me do this --

                          RAYMOND

                You don't think they saw this coming?
                You don't think they factored you in?
                    (matter of fact)
                I need to die, Ben.

                          MARCO

                What? No -- no, man, they've got big
                plans for you --

                          RAYMOND

                I'm the enemy, Major Marco, and the only
                way to stop me is to kill me. I thought
                you were smarter than this.

                          MARCO

                I can get the Feds, the police.   Come on,
                Ray -- fight it --

                          RAYMOND

                Are we friends?




                                                   8/18/03   105.








                          MARCO

                Raymond, you gotta work with me here --
      Raymond takes the ringing phone from his inside pocket, and
      checks the number of who's calling.

                          RAYMOND

                I want to believe we're friends.

                          MARCO

                Raymond, stay focused. The irrefutable
                fact is that Jocie was a mistake, and
                we're gonna make 'em pay for it.

                          RAYMOND

                I dream you, Ben. You kill Private
                Baker.
                    (into the phone, pleasant:)
                Hello?

                          MARCO

                What are you talking about?

                          RAYMOND

                    (into the phone)
                Yes mother.
      A class BELL RINGS --

178   INTERCUT - CORRIDOR - DAY                                      178

      Students flood the hallway -- Laurent Tokar walks right past
      Rosie and Anderson, heading toward the special ed room --

179   RESUME - THE SPECIAL ED ROOM                                   179


                           MARCO

                Hang up.

                          RAYMOND

                    (into the phone)
                Yes, he's right here.
      Raymond extends the phone to Marco.

                          RAYMOND

                She wants you.
      Marco hesitates.   Me?   But takes the receiver --

180   INTERCUT - ELLIE'S PLAZA HOTEL SUITE - MORNING                 180

      on the phone in her lavish room:

                          ELLIE

                 Is this Major Marco?




                                                  8/18/03   106.








                          MARCO

                Yes it is, Senator.

                          ELLIE

                -- Major Bennett Marco --
      Marco reacting quizzically -- sound of the distant windstorm
      building --
      EXTREME CLOSE UP - MARCO - HIS EAR -- at the phone:

                            MARCO

                Yeah ...?
      MARCO'S EYES flicker to Raymond's eyes --

                          ELLIE

                Bennett Ezekiel Marco --
      -- Marco's senses are quickening -- the light literally
      changing around him -- that terrible LUMINOSITY -- as --
      SOUND of fabric, in the wind -- the SANDSTORM RAGING --
      Marco's eyes shining now, hyper-alert -- a warrior's eyes --

                            MARCO

                Yes.

                          ELLIE

                -- Listen:

                                                         CRASH:


181   INT. P.S. 16 - CORRIDOR - MOMENTS LATER                          181

      The happy chaos of screaming kids. Raymond emerges,
      smiling. Surrounded immediately by Anderson and his secret
      service detail, and escorted out of the building.

      ROSIE

      fights through the throng of students --
      -- to the office door.   Now it's locked.   She bangs on it --
      KICKS it open --

182   INT. SPECIAL ED. OFFICE - DAY - ROSIE                            182

      Empty. Marco gone. The Noyle File lies open -- and empty --
      on the floor. She rushes through a connecting door --

183   INT. AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS                                     183

      -- third-grade students loud, happy, rehearsing a patriotic
      "Abe Lincoln" election day skit -- no Marco here -- she's
      lost him --




                                                   8/18/03    107.








184     INT. SPECIAL ED. OFFICE - CONTINUOUS                           184

        Rosie comes back through, out into the hallway and stands,
        in the river of children -- she's lost Ben --

185     EXT. P.S. 16 - FRONT STEPS - DAY (VIDEO)                       185

TVA185News footage of Raymond emerging from voting, waving, and TVA185
      heading back to his car --

TV185                       NEWSCASTER #6                            TV185

                  Candidates made ritual trips to the
                  voting booths today ...

186     EXT. ANOTHER POLLING PLACE (VIDEO)                             186

TVA186SIMILAR footage of Arthur emerging, waving to the cameras.TVA186

TV186                       NEWSCASTER #6                            TV186

                  ... Governor Arthur, casting his ballot
                  in North Platte, will spend election
                  night in the Big Apple, with running-mate
                  Raymond Shaw ...

                                               PULL SLOWLY BACK:


187     EXT. THE PLAZA - LATE AFTERNOON                                187

        SWOOPING ACROSS on an entrance jammed with cabs and
        limousines ... then RISE UP --
        -- to the WINDOW of a suite high above the street, where
        sunlight still lingers on the glass, shimmering gold, and

        PUSH IN --


188     INT. PLAZA HOTEL SUITE - LATE AFTERNOON                        188

TV188 A beautiful suit laid out on the king-size bed ... shoes       TV188
      ... the television ON, but silent: network election night
      coverage ... numbers flashing. Arthur/Shaw are exit poll
      winners in Alabama, Florida, Maryland, Pennsylvania, New
      York ...

                            ELLIE (V.O.)

                  The bullet will pass over your shoulder,
                  just missing your head on the way to its
                  target ...

189     INT. BEDROOM - LATE AFTERNOON                                  189

        where Raymond sits, stripped to the waist, watching the
        mirror as his mother looms over him, in a beautiful Chinese
        silk dress, combing his damp hair.

                            ELLIE

                  ... because, of course, the assassin --
                  the deranged, obsessed, tragically

                            (MORE)





                                           8/18/03    108.








                    ELLIE (CONT'D)

          paranoid, lone gunman -- is trying to
          kill you.

                    RAYMOND

          The Major is an excellent marksman.
She touches his bare shoulder, leaves her hand there.

                    RAYMOND

          But what will happen to him?

                    ELLIE

              (gentle)
          The assassin always dies, baby. It's
          necessary for the national healing.
She takes his shirt off a hanger, he stands up, and she
starts to dress him --

                    ELLIE

          I'm sure you will never entirely
          comprehend this, darling, and I know, the
          way you are right now, this is like
          trying to have a whimpered conversation
          with someone on a distant star ... but it
          must be said, Raymond -- I did this for
          you -- so that you could have what I
          could not, what your father didn't want --
          what your grandfather dared to dream
          possible --
She runs her hands through his hair.   Tears fill her eyes.

                    ELLIE

          -- when you ran away to join the Army,
          after that girl, after Jocie -- when you
          swore you'd never speak to me again, I
          felt your father's shadow pass across us,
          and I couldn't let him run you the way
          he ruined himself.
              (beat)
          That's when Mark Whiting came to me with
          talk of extraordinary scientific
          breakthroughs ... Attitude adjustment ...
          Reconciliation ... Greatness. So I let
          them take you, and change you. Not too
          much. Not so much that you'd notice.
          Just enough to bring you back to me.

                    RAYMOND

          Yes, mother.

                    ELLIE

          And look what you have, now! Look how
          far we've come! It's working, darling --
          they think they own you, but they are
          very, very wrong. You're not something
          they can buy and sell, Raymond, not for

                    (MORE)





                                                 8/18/03    109.








                          ELLIE (CONT'D)

                any price -- we're one, and there'll be
                no stopping us now, will there? We're
                going to save this country in the hour of
                its greatest need.
      Raymond is dazzled by Eddie's radiance.

                          RAYMOND

                Yes, mother.
      She straightens his tie.   Her hands caress her son's
      shoulders.

                          ELLIE

                How much you look like my father, now --
                you have his hands, and you hold your
                head in the same proud way. And when you
                smile it's like I'm a little girl again,
                and --
                    (impulsively kisses him)
                When you smile -- when you smile --
      Raymond moves to her -- their embrace is all consuming --

190   INT. REGENT WALL STREET - GRAND BALLROOM - DUSK                190

      A DIZZYING OVERHEAD SHOT, slowly twisting: campaign
      volunteers milling through empty chairs, dozens of t.v.
      monitors glow with early election coverage, a STAGE BAND
      warming up, bass thumping, the room festooned with "SECURE
      TOMORROW" banners, and --

      TWO VAST FLOOR-TO-CEILING, VIRTUAL WALL-TO-WALL SCREENS,

      specially installed for the occasion, define the entire east
      and west walls of the ballroom. They glow pure blue, as if
      waiting --

191   INT. DISUSED PROJECTION BOOTH - HIGH ABOVE THE FLOOR           191

      A LAMINATED ALL-ACCESS SECURITY BADGE dangles from
      Anderson's neck as he pushes the last screw back into a
      cooling vent along the wall.

192   INT. SERVICE CORRIDOR                                          192

      Anderson emerges as another SECRET SERVICE AGENT comes down
      the hallway --

                          ANDERSON

                All clear.
      He closes the lighting room door.

193   OMITTED                                                        193


194   OMITTED                                                        194





                                                 8/18/03   110.








195   INT. GRAND BALLROOM - ON THE GIANT SCREEN, ABOVE THE STAGE      195

      remote-cam images of the empty stage and podium blink to
      life, enormous, finding focus, and --

      AT THE BACK OF THE BALLROOM - ENGINEERING CONSOLE

      a DIRECTOR and a team of TECH GUYS murmur in headsets,
      commanding a matrix of monitors, control panels and mixing
      boards. ON ALL THE SCREENS: different views of the empty
      stage, from various cameras.

196   ANOTHER ALL-ACCESS SECURITY BADGE                               196

      just like Anderson's.   PAN UP:
      MARCO -- resplendent in dress uniform, hair trimmed, a man
      reborn. He looks so rejuvenated, for a moment even we don't
      recognize him.

      INT. SERVICE HALLWAY - MARCO

      steps over television cables and power lines, follows their
      drunken path to the end of a narrow corridor --

      UNLIT CORRIDOR

      Marco slips in and out of darkness.   Passing no one.   NOISE
      echoing insanely from the ballroom.

197   INT. DISUSED PROJECTION BOOTH                                   197

      Marco enters, closes the door. Takes his coat off and folds
      it neatly and puts it on the floor. FOLLOW HIM as he stoops
      to find a HIGH-TECH METAL CASE hidden in the air vent ...
      ... he opens it, revealing a disassembled SNIPER RIFLE,
      stereo RANGEFINDER EYEPIECE, live rounds, sandbag, tripod
      and a SIDEARM ...
      ... he turns toward the back of a MASSIVE WALL-GRID of LIGHT
      FIXTURES facing outward to the auditorium, hot with RED-
      WHITE-AND-BLUE radiance.
      He walks to the grid and peers through it --

                                                     PUSH OUT:


198   INT. BALLROOM - STAGE - A PROCESSION OF CAMPAIGN WORKERS        198

      walks out of the back of the stage, a VIDEO A.D. with a
      headset leading them, backpedaling, barking instructions
      lost in the general din.
      They all hold big, hand-printed NAME CARDS: Gov. Arthur's
      aide, TATUM (GQ dreadlocks) clowns around with his "Pres.




                                                   8/18/03    111.







        Arthur" placard. Other p.a.'s and assistants hold: "First
        Lady Arthur", "Arthur Kids", "Friends of Bob". Mirella
        Freeman has her "V.P. Shaw"; Gillespie, trying to look
        amused (but not very) his "Sen. Shaw/Veep's Mom" sign.

        BACK OF THE ROOM - ENGINEERING CONSOLE

        The Director speaks into his headset, his voice broadcast
        over the house speakers:

                            DIRECTOR

                  Okay. Crowd cheering. Much elation.
                  The president moves to his mark --

                                                         CRASH:


199     OMITTED                                                        199


200     OMITTED                                                        200


201     OMITTED                                                        201


202     OMITTED                                                        202


203     OMITTED                                                        203


204     OMITTED                                                        204


205     OMITTED                                                        205


206     FLURRY OF IMAGES (VIDEO)                                      206

        Overlapping news reports:

TV206                       NEWSCASTERS (#7/#8/#9)                   TV206

                  CBS/ABC/CNN/FOX project Robert Arthur and
                  Raymond Shaw to be the next President and
                  Vice President of/have won the
                  presidential election/have been elected
                  by a landslide --

207     INT. REGENT WALL STREET BALLROOM - NIGHT                      207

        Bedlam. Packed now with celebrants. CONFETTI rains down,
        the CHEERING overpowers even the rock and roll band as it
        strikes up a post-punk rendition of "Yankee Doodle."

208     INT. SECURITY COMMAND CENTER - NIGHT                          208

        TWO DOZEN MONITORS show different angles of the entrance,
        corridors, security lanes, but --

        ROSIE

        is off to one side with a couple other Feds and a SECURITY
        GUY, reviewing the entry tapes from earlier --




                                                8/18/03   112.








      ON THE SURVEILLANCE MONITOR

      people whoosh through gates in digitized triple time --

                          ROSIE

                Stop.
      -- there's Marco. The image slows. Marco moves herky-jerky
      through the security station, stop-action. Rosie pretends
      she's interested in somebody else -- then:

                          ROSIE

                No ...
      The tape resumes triple-time --

209   INT. PROJECTION BOOTH - MARCO                                  209

      Deliberately hand-feeding live rounds of ammo into his rifle

      -- CLICK, CLICK, CLICK --

      -- he's ready.

                                                        CRASH:


210   OMITTED                                                        210


211   INT. REGENT WALL STREET BALLROOM - ON THE STAGE                211

      Arthur and Shaw and their entourage explode victorious from
      the back, just like in the rehearsal. ICONIC SAMPLING of
      "regular Americans" in full-dress uniform accompany the
      winners: a soldier, a sailor, a fireman, a marine, a
      policeman, a fighter pilot, everybody waving, smiling.
      THE CROWD -- ecstatic.

      ROSIE

      A tiny island of worry in a sea of celebration. The huge
      light grids ripple with patriotic bunting effects.
      She scans the crowd, the perimeter, the balconies ...

      ON THE GIANT SCREEN, BEHIND THE STAGE

      an ENORMOUS close-up of Arthur --

      THE TWO COLOSSAL WALL-TO-WALL SCREENS

      are alive with soaring, IMAX-style postcard footage of
      Americana: Monument Valley, Pike's Peak, Columbia River,
      golden waving fields of wheat -- city skylines -- perfect
      beaches -- majestic off-shore oil rigs -- galloping herds of
      buffalo -- the breathtaking grandeur of American nature,
      American achievements --




                                                   8/18/03   113.








      INTERCUT - MONITORS

      Various angles on-stage of Arthur, his wife, his family,
      close and loose --

212   THROUGH MARCO'S SCOPE - SAME TIME                              212

      Crosshairs finding, locking on Arthur -- who is waving, and
      slowing to shake on-stage supports' hands --

213   BALLROOM FLOOR - ROSIE                                         213

      staring up at the left-side lighting grid ... where she
      thinks she saw movement. As it blinks OFF, and then ON
      again in a different pattern, there's the SILHOUETTE of
      something.
      A figure behind the grid.    Marco?   She's sure of it --
      -- and she's moving, pushing her way toward an exit, pulling
      a tiny walkie-talkie from her pocket and yelling into it --

214   THROUGH MARCO'S SCOPE:                                         214

      Rock-steady on Arthur and his hundred-watt smile, as he now
      separates from the procession and moves to his center stage
      mark -- just like in the rehearsal.
      The crowd begins to CHANT.

215   ON THE STAGE - RAYMOND                                         215

      Calm and focused. Smiling.     His mother leans close,
      whispers something --

216   INT. SERVICE HALLWAY - BEHIND THE BALLROOM - NIGHT             216

      Rosie joined in stride by Feds from the command center --
      SOUND of the celebration booms through the building --

217   INT. STAIRWELL                                                 217

      Rosie leads the way, two steps at a time, pulling her gun
      from her holster and checking the clip --

218   MARCO'S EYE                                                    218

      clear and unwavering -- his pupil tightening as --

219   THROUGH MARCO'S SCOPE                                          219

      Arthur turns to Raymond and gestures --




                                                  8/18/03   114.








220   ON THE STAGE - ELLIE                                           220

      Her eyes shining as Raymond steps forward -- the ROAR of the
      crowd --

221   INT. PROJECTION BOOTH - MARCO                                  221

      He slips his finger through the trigger guard --

222   THROUGH MARCO'S SCOPE                                          222

      Cross-hairs on Arthur. But a DARK BLUR suddenly passes in
      front of Arthur, momentarily ECLIPSING Marco's view --

223   INT. BALLROOM - ENGINEERING CONSOLE - SAME TIME                223

      A few of the camera monitors have empty frames, waiting for
      Raymond to arrive, but --

                          DIRECTOR

                Dammit, Shaw missed his first position --
                    (then)
                Find him -- go with him --

      ON THE STAGE - SAME TIME

      Raymond has joined Arthur center-stage, instead of moving to
      the rehearsed first mark --

224   INT. PROJECTION BOOTH - MARCO                                  224

      his finger motionless inside the trigger guard --

225   THROUGH THE SCOPE: ARTHUR AND RAYMOND                          225

      But Raymond is blocking Arthur now --

226   CLOSE ON - MARCO                                               226

      Frowning. Raymond has made Marco's shot impossible -- kill
      Arthur, and he kills Raymond too.

227   INT. PROJECTION BOOTH - MARCO                                  227

      coming off the eyepiece of the scope.

FB227 OMITTED                                                      FB227

228   He wipes sweat out of his eyes.   Blinks.                      228

229   ON STAGE - ELLIE - SAME TIME                                   229

      Appalled at Raymond's departure from the plan.

230   OMITTED                                                        230





                                                  8/18/03   115.








231    OMITTED                                                          231


FB231 OMITTED                                                      FB231


232    OMITTED                                                          232


233    OMITTED                                                          233


234    ON THE GIANT SCREEN, ABOVE THE STAGE                             234

       A sprawling hero shot of MT. RUSHMORE, featuring the
       traditional quartet, plus stony CGI additions of PRESIDENT-
       ELECT ARTHUR, and RAYMOND PRENTISS SHAW.

       BALLROOM - ENGINEERING CONSOLE


                           DIRECTOR

                 Now music --
       MUSIC starts: that lush, full orchestral rendition of "Here
       Comes the Sun" that sweeps through the ballroom.

       ABOVE THE BALLROOM - LIGHTING GRIDS

       change to rippling American Flags --

235    INT. BALLROOM - SAME TIME                                        235

       Music swelling, the room exploding with color and
       celebration, lights flaring, side walls alive with iconic
       American images --
       The raucous crowd starting to CLAP in rhythm -- people
       CROONING along with the song's chorus, as --

       ON STAGE - A JUBILATION TABLEAU

       people waving, hugging dancing -- more super-insiders
       joining the throng onstage, shaking hands, high-fiving --

       RAYMOND PRENTISS SHAW

       waving, staring up into the lights ... searching.    Finds the
       spot he's been looking for --

A236   PROJECTION BOOTH - MARCO                                      A236

       raising his gun again.

B236   RESUME - STAGE - RAYMOND                                      B236

       turns and smiles at his mother.   Moves toward her --




                                                 8/18/03   116.








       INTERCUT - VARIOUS MONITORS - SAME TIME

       -- Ellie, stunned -- painfully aware that the eyes of the
       world are on her -- and Raymond moving, taking his mother's
       hands -- inviting her to dance.

C236   PROJECTION BOOTH - MARCO                                      C236

       places his eye to the scope --

D236   THROUGH MARCO'S SCOPE - ARTHUR                                D236

       Marco finds him -- adjusts the crosshairs --

236    INT. SERVICE HALLWAY - SAME TIME                               236

       Rosie and the Feds sprint toward Marco's projection booth --

237    ON STAGE - RAYMOND AND ELLIE                                   237

       as Ellie surrenders to the moment, and enters Raymond's arms
       -- what else can she do? -- this is her son, her dream is
       halfway there ... and the President can die another day.
       They swirl off to the music --

238    THROUGH MARCO'S SCOPE - ARTHUR                                 238

       perfectly centered in Marco's sights, but then --
       -- Raymond and Ellie glide in front of Marco's target --
       lingering in Marco's eyeline, Raymond stares up into the
       scope -- eyes trusting, urging, as if he's saying: now --
       -- then ARTHUR IS ALONE AGAIN, in the center of the
       crosshairs, waving and grinning at the ROARING CROWD like a
       man who's just been elected President, but --
       -- MARCO's crosshairs SWING OVER, finding RAYMOND AND ELLIE
       again --

239    STAGE - ON ELLIE - SAME TIME                                   239

       looking into Raymond's eyes ... follows his gaze up into the
       dazzling glare of the stage lights -- first shadow of doubt
       crawling across her --

240    THROUGH THE SCOPE - ELLIE AND RAYMOND                          240

       They're right in Marco's cross-hairs.

A241   MARCO                                                         A241

       Committed.   Almost serene.




                                                 8/18/03     117.








241    ELLIE                                                          241

       Eyes wide -- realizing too late --

242    INTERCUT - MARCO                                               242

       Pulls the trigger.   BAM BAM BAM.
       Raymond and his mother are kicked back into the horrified
       celebrants on the stage --
       -- the same bullets ripping through both of them --
       -- toppling together, dead before they hit the ground --

243    INT. PROJECTION BOOTH - SAME TIME                              243

       The Feds KICK the door in --

       MARCO

       calmly putting a clip into the handgun from his kit --
       starting to raise it --

                            ROSIE


                 BEN!!!

       She shoots him.

244    WIDE - THE BALLROOM - NIGHT                                    244

       BALLOONS cascade down on a nearly black-and-white tableau of
       pandemonium and chaos, against the soaring wall-to-wall
       images of America's greatness displayed on the IMAX screens.
       Screaming and shouting. President-elect Arthur vanishing in
       a phalanx of Secret Service. VIDEO CREWS pressing in on the
       stage, morbidly curious ...
       ... and a strange clearing around the bodies of Raymond and
       Eleanor Shaw, crumpled and bloody ...
       ... still locked in their embrace.

A245   INTERCUT - IMPRESSIONS OF NEWS FOOTAGE - ON A MONITOR         A245

TVA245Crowds pressed to the Regent rear entrance -- frantic copsTVA245
      clearing the way for BODY BAGS emerging on stretchers, one,
      two ... three -- this third one guided and fiercely attended
      by Rosie through the confusion -- shoved into a waiting
      morgue truck ... WE ARE:

245    INT. A HUGE OFFICE SOMEWHERE - NIGHT                           245

TV245 Donovan stands in front of a massive flat-screen televisionTV245
      watching the mayhem at the Regent Wall Street ballroom.




                                                8/18/03    118.







      PULL BACK TO REVEAL: a numb collection of horrified
      Manchurian Global executive office employees, watching in
      silence ... a visibly shaken Whiting, ashen-faced, head in
      his hands, eyes red with tears, and Johnston, stunned,
      pacing --

                          JOHNSTON

                Jesus. Jesus H. Christ ... Jesus H.
                Christ ...
      TIGHTEN ON DONOVAN. Expressionless, except for a cryptic
      frown. He raises his arm and uses a remote to kill the
      picture.

                                           SCREEN GOES BLACK.


246   OMITTED                                                       246


247   OMITTED                                                       247


248   A VIDEO STILL FRAME MATERIALIZES                              248

      flickering on. The SECURITY FOOTAGE of Marco entering the
      Regent Wall Street hotel. His face turned away.

                                                           FLIP.


      ANOTHER FRAME

      Marco turning toward us. His FACE becoming artificially
      highlighted, digitized -- MORPHED. ZOOM IN as his features
      BEGIN TO CHANGE. Non-descript. New features emerging.
      Caucasian. Not Marco. CLICKING of a keyboard, and --
      ROSIE'S REFLECTION -- becomes visible across the screen of
      THE VIDEO MONITOR on which the security footage flickers.
      We are:

249   INT. VIDEO CGI BOOTH                                          249

      Where an ENGINEER works keyboard and mouse, digitally
      altering the footage of Marco is Rosie watches, intently,
      from just behind him.
      Further back in the same room ... another senior FEDERAL
      AGENT, Special Agent VOLK, from Marco's interrogation ...
      and Colonel Garret leans against the far wall, arms folded,
      expressionless.

                          MEDIA ICON (V.O.)

                    (fading up)
                ... the FBI today released security
                footage of the assassin of Raymond and
                Eleanor Prentiss Shaw entering the hotel
                two hours before the fatal shooting ...




                                                  8/18/03     119.







        The Engineer finishes what he's doing, resets the tape and
        now it begins to PLAY again, IN REAL TIME -- and we watch a
        white man in uniform go through security, as:

250     NETWORK NEWSCAST (VIDEO)                                       250

        The footage we've just seen playing behind:

TV250                       MEDIA ICON                               TV250

                  ... Authorities say that they have no
                  further information about the identity of
                  the gunman, except that he was a white
                  male, perhaps 30 years of age, and not a
                  member of the armed forces.
                      (then)
                  The tragic deaths of the incumbent vice
                  president and his Senator mother mark the
                  end of a family dynasty that has
                  dominated American politics for more than
                  fifty years. The mother and the son,
                  polar opposites on myriad issues,
                  nevertheless managed to promise a "one
                  plus one equals ten" kind of equation to
                  many Americans; the hopeful, heady notion
                  that these two somehow comprised a united
                  vision of stunning, almost revolutionary
                  breadth and depth ... a combined
                  potential far greater than its parts ...
        PUSH PAST her, TIGHTEN IN on the image of the lone gunman
        and the image explodes into pixels accompanied by --
        -- the rising SOUND of the BLADES OF A HELICOPTER, under:

                            MEDIA ICON

                  ... President-elect Arthur has vowed to
                  bring to justice whatever nation -- or
                  nations -- are responsible. Still
                  reeling from the recent tragic loss of
                  Senator Thomas Jordan, Congress has
                  already announced a fresh investigation
                  into Jordan's death, in an effort to
                  learn if it is in any way related to ...

251     EXT. OCEAN - DAY                                               251

        WE ARE JETTING LOW and impossibly fast across whitecapped
        azure water, toward crumbled ruins of a long-abandoned
        village on an empty beach -- we remember it vividly from
        Marco's memory -- arriving to slowly SPIN and hover over the
        remnants of an ancient caravansary:

252     EXT. DESERT ISLAND BEACHFRONT - ARABIAN SEA - DAY              252

        HIGH ANGLE, DOWN on Marco, moving across the intricate, sun-
        bleached tile work we remember from Noyle's lab.




                                          8/18/03    120.







Dissipated trace of a scaffolding superstructure inside
crumbling ruins ...

                    MARCO

          You don't develop a technology like that
          and waste it on two guys.
He looks to Rosie, who stands in an archway. There are
SOLDIERS here, with weapons -- could be here to guard Marco.
Could be here to protect him.

                    ROSIE

          We know that.
Marco looks past her, to the water, which stretches out from
here, as if to forever.

                    MARCO

          I remember running.
His arm is in a simple sling. He moves like a man who's
been shot, and not quite recovered -- moves past Rosie, out
of the broken-down ruins ...

                    MARCO

          I had to get out where the sky was.
... Rosie motions the soldiers to stay back, follows him by
herself ...

                    MARCO

          I had to get to the water.
PULL BACK as they walk down the beach to the sea. A few
tumble-down buildings are all that remains of an ancient
seaside town.

                    MARCO

          I thought: if I can just get to the
          water, everything will be okay.
Marco approaches the water's edge, staring out at the
uncertain horizon.
Nothing but water as far as the eye can see.
PULL BACK.   And back.   And back ...

                                                FADE OUT.