"CLEAR AND PRESENT DANGER" (1994)

Marine choppers crowd the pad.

Admiral JAMES GREER and four other men are seated before a fireplace. Three of the men are in their 50’s, one slin, preppy, another short and fat with cryptic, owlish eyes. The third man is pale, fragile-looking, and the fourth tall and tan, with silver hair; looks like a rich old cowboy.

L D_PRES FADE IN:

A Coast Guard CUTTER PASSES INTO FRAME. The bridge of the cutter: A Radar TECH calls from his station.

The CAPTAIN turns away from a chart, crosses over to the display; the Tech points to a blip on the screen.

The Captain studies the blip.

He turns to his WHEELSMAN.

WHEELSMAN

Aye, aye, sir ~- new course, Three-Zero-Nine.

The cutter veers off. , TIME CUT TO:

ANOTHER PART OF THE STREAM

The Empire Builder, a sleek 100-foot Feadship, lies adrift in the water.

The cutter appears -- throttles back =-- comes alongside the yacht. 3. CHIFF and SEAMAN leap forward; the Seaman goes forward, the Chief makes for the stern.

The sailor reaches the hatch to the salon -- stops in his tracks -- sucks in a breath.

A sixth man is standing before them with his back to the fire. He’s in his middle years, a simple, hardscrabble face (that masks a fierce determination): Meet the PRESIDENT of the United States, who, at this moment, is fuming with indignation.

The Pres crosses to a table covered with 8x10 photo blow-ups of the crime scene. He picks up one of the shots, grimaces, tosses it back, zeros in on the Pale Man.

FBI Director EMIL JACOBS nods.

Suddenly, the Admiral winces; the Pres catches it.

Greer mops his (perspiring) brow. GREER I’m fine, sir.

The President turns back to the fire; Greer winces (again).

He spins back to the room, nails Owl Eyes.

National Security Advisor JAMES CUTTER shifts his considgerable bulk.

CUTTER ° What sort of message, Mr. President?

He turns to the Cowboy.

. PRESIDENT

We're gonna shut ‘em down, Judge! And while we're at it, I wouldn’t mind bustin’ some butt, if you know what I mean?

CIA Director Judge ARTHUR MOORE’s eyes ricochet off Cutter’s, back to the Pres.

; MOORE (THE COWBOY) I hear you, sir.

The Preppy leans forward.

WILLIAM RITTER, CIA Deputy Director/Operations, shares an eye with Cutter. Cutter turns back to the President.

The Pres waves a hand at Greer, Ritter, and the Judge.

MOORE

But, Mr. President, even we have limits in this kind of effort.

cuTT Sir, either our national security is threatened by these people, or it is

not.

CUTTER

Yes, sir, you did.

The President turns, looks at the fire, then turns back to the others.

He starts out of the room. Cutter and Ritter exchange a conspiratorial look; Greer catches it <= then he suddenly ooofs out a breath <-- starts to rise -- clutches his niddle -- and crashes to the floor, groaning.

GO TO BLACK

FADE UP:

Establish. .

Ryan comes down a corridor, stops at a door, opens it.

Greer’s on a bed, stable now, talking to a doctor. When the door opens, both men look to it. Ryan stops, starts to back out of the roon.

Ryan enters, Greer gestures at the doctor.

' GREER Captain Collins -- Jack Ryan.

Ryan and COLLINS share a nod. There’s a CPO working on Greer’s bedside phone. He hangs up the receiver and turns

to the Admiral.

ecPo Excuse me, Admiral -- the line’s secure.

He picks up his tool box and exits; Greer gestures at Collins.

Go ahead, Doc.

Judging by your cholecystogran, I Suspect the tumor is -- mature.

That would be my opinion, sir.

A beat, then Ryan jumps in, impatient.

He looks to Greer, shakes his head in apology.

They both turn back to Gollins.

Greer looks away for a moment, then back to Collins.

. GREER Thank you, Captain.

The Doctor exits; Ryan turns back to Greer, frowning.

Me, too -- but the world goes on. Speaking of which, I talked to the Judge this morning. I told him I wanted you appointed my Deputy.

Ryan blinks, taken aback.

He shakes his head, starts to protest. Greer holds up his hand.

your intellect. I want you to watch and listen very carefully.

Ryan's brow knits.

RYAN * For what, sir?

He beckons him closer; Ryan leans in.

My office safe -- L33-R16-L22-R7. (as Ryan nods) Repeat it.

Ryan steps back, shakes his head.

That’s for you to tell me, son.

Establish. :

A stripper’s on stage, grinding her stuff for a handful of customers.

Ritter and a man are at a table in the rear of the club. The guy’s mid-50’s, solid build, gunfighter eyes. Ritter’s just said something; the man’s weighing his words.

MAN

Tf I hear you right, we’re talking revenge. RITTER Retribution is a more acceptable word. MAN Whatever -- you want to hurt thez. RITTER Precisely. 7 MAN What's the objective? RITTER

The targets represent a clear and present danger to the security of the United States.

He checks passes it

A team? You can have a brigade.

° - RITTER You can pick them yourself.

.

—— MAN I fully intend to. I‘11 also need air support -- some radical

communications. RITTER

Done. . MAN

you realize that running a lash-up like this has its boundaries. If you increase the assets -- try and make it more effective -- you'll get blown sure as hell.

his watch, takes an envelope out of a briefcase, to the man, who opens it, glances inside. MAN Operation SHOWBOAT... (smiles) bs

Sounds appropriate.

Ritter gets up; they exchange a stare.

1c.

RITTER ; We don’t pay you to like it, Clark.

He walks off; CLARK sucks a tooth.

It’s a huge, rambling adobe sprawled across a mountain top, surrounded by walled gardens, festooned with concertina wire and blinding floodlights; sort of Frank Lloyd Wright meets Ludwig the Mad.

Two men are in the room. One is behind a desk, mid~40’s, a patron-type right down to the white suit and etiletto cigar. The other guy’s younger, Slicker, soap opera~handsone.

Forget it, Cortez, it’s over.

Colonel CARLOS CORTEZ shakes his head.

ERNESTO ESCOBEDO sits up; the line got his attention.

eT

. What are you telling me? The United States is going to declare war on us?

Escobedo takes a beat.

. ESCOBEDO (THE MAN) You/ve confirmed this?

Escobedo sits back, fires up his cigar. ESCOBEDO

So, in do you suggest we react to such a threat?

Mmmm, with you, it’s always. expensive. How much?

CORTEZ | Three million, perhaps, to begin. ESCOBEDO And what’s this three million buy us? CORTEZ Men, arms -- vehicles. ESCOBEDO And, who’ll lead these men, Colonel? CORTEZ I will, of course. ESCOBEDO Aha! You/’re willing to give up the a.

Pleasures of Washington for the hazards of the field?

Escobedo studies hin, gets up.

Escobedo starts out of the room; Cortez smiles, thin.

Establish.

Judge Moore is behind his desk. Ryan’s standing across fron hin.

an technic ally... but I lack soliticel sophistication. .

MOORE

You'll pick that up.

(sniles) Besides, politics aren’t supposed to have much place in what we do here. The important thing is, the President likes you and The Hill likes you, 60...

The Judge’s INTERCOM BUZZES; he leans into the box.

MOORE =.

The door opens and Ritter enters.

i3.

You’re just in time. I’m about to appoint Dr. Ryan Acting Deputy Director, Intelligence.

Ritter tries to hide his surprise.

His eyes hit Ryan’s, they share a look; it’s obvious there’s no love lost between these two.

Moore picks up a letter, rises. MOORE

I’ve ginned up a memo for your department heads. Here’s your copy.

-

Ryan takes it from hin.

Ryan's eyes flicker off’ Ritter, back to Moore, who extends his hand.

Ryan shakes the Judge’s hand.

He starts out of the office.

Ryan stops, turns back.

Ryan walks out, Ritter turns to Moore, shaking his head.

Come on, Bobby -=- you got a hard-en for him because he’s been involved with two highly successful field operations. You’re "OP’s" <= and you hate getting poached on, I understand that. But we can’t have Intelligence going adrift just because you want to keep him out of sone loop. Right?

Ritter nods, grudgingly. RITTER I guess...»

The screen is black =-- but it isn’t matte, it’s more organic -- as if the darkness were alive.

We HEAR a man’s voice OVER. MAN

(amplified) Where are they?

ANOTHER ANGLE - SLIGHTLY LIGHTER

We're on the camouflaged face of a young Hispanic-American soldier. He speaks into a radio mike.

ANOTHER ANGLE ~~ On the CAPTAIN, also H-A, also in warpaint.

7 SOLDIER (V.0.) (amplified) That’s all I count, sir.

He CLICKS the radio off, gestures 0.5. Two more troopers come forward; he points to the right and left. The grunts

nod and hurry OUT OF FRAME.

ANOTHER ANGLE

Back to the Soldier as he moves through the darkness in a tight crouch, exaggerating his steps, putting each foot down carefully, silently.

FLASH CUT < We SEE the Soldier illuminated through a pair of night goggles.

BACK TO SCENE

The Soldier stops -- his head swivels slowly -- something’s bothering him; he doesn’t know what. FLASH CUT -- The night goggles POV.

BACK TO SCENE

The Soldier takes a moment, shakes it off, and continues forward, pausing 20 yards from the campfire, where he kneels, sights his rifle on the sentry, and FIRES A (SILENCED) ROUND.

The sentry drops like a stone.

The man at the fire starts to get up -- the Soldier FIRES again; the man goes down with a thud. The three guys who were sleeping come out of their bedrolle, groping for their weapons.

The two other troopers that the Captain sent forward spring out of the darkness and RIDDLE the three men.

The Soldier rises, shoulders his weapon.

The Soldier jerks around, startled; Clark grins at hin.

Floodlights suddenly pop on, illuminating the (training) area. The five "dead" men are back on their feet, removing their flak jackets, picking off the wax bullets they took during the action.

Clark gestures at the Soldier. |

They walk over to the Captain and his men.

He gestures at the Soldier.

The Soldier lays a hard eye on Clark, who emiles and holds up a pair of night goggles.

Clark sticks out a hand.

The Soldier shakes his hand.

(smiles)

But, you're gonna be working with us.

He pats Chavez on the shoulder; walks off.

Establish.

Ryan and CATHY are getting dressed. She’s got a phone to

her ear.

She slans

annoyed) Doctor, you’re not listening: She is py patient and J decide the procedure... You'll what? -—=- Okay, go to Dr. Polk, I don’t give a damn what you do!

down the phone, exasperated.

RYAN a. Who?

CATHY

Williams. That creep!

She starts to walk past him; he takes her arn.

A beat; she sighe.

Yeah, Major Winters’ daughter a retinal tumor. How’s she doing?

* CATHY It can be saved -- maybe.

TIME CUT:

THE RYAN KITCHEN

Ryan’s at a window, sipping coffee; Cathy’s at the stove, fixing breakfast. He turns, their eyes connect.

You’ve done this procedure?

They share a look.

It’s dangerous, yes -- but it’s so much better for her. I mean, you can’t imagine what chemo does to a child, It tears them up... it’s, it’s dreadful.

She leans into him; he pats her back. i CATHY I can’t subject her to it, Jack. I just can’t. .

He holds her back, smiles.

He kisses her forehead; she scrunches up her face.

They kiss -- then we HEAR a boy child 0.5.

Ryan and Cathy turn to the sound... and there’s a towheaded three-year-old in p.j.‘’s, clutching a small plastic submarine.

Ryan reaches down and swoops the kid into his arms.

RYAN

What seems to be the problem? BOY

Won't float. RYAN

Not supposed to, J.R. It’s a submarine ~- goes underwater.

JOHN PATRICK RYAN, JR. biinks.

; J.R. (BOY) Goes on top, too, sometines. RYAN Yeah... JR.

Then it does float. Ryan looks to Cathy, grins; proud poppa.

; CATHY Why don’t we just take him out of nursery school and get him into Anapolis?

Cathy’s eye catches something out the window. She steps over and looks down; there’s a black Lincoin towncar idling in the driveway. A driver’s at the wheel.

Ryan (and J.R.) step over to the window; he looks down, sees the car.

Cathy raises an eyebrow.

We HEAR their ten-year-old daughter SALLY call from 0.5.

She turns back to Ryan, smiles, wicked-like.

zi.

He smiles back (same way)..,

She pecks at his nose and exits; Ryan and son smile after her.. 7 =

Ryan's standing at a wall covered with photos. One of then is a formal portrait of Greer in full uniform. Ryan studies the photo, melancholy.

shit!

a WOMAN (0.5.} My sentiments, exactly.

Ryan turns to the woman; she’s mid-50’s, grey-haired, a handsome, tailored lady, carrying a cardboard box.

WOMAN _ Good morning, Doctor.

NANCY sets the box on the desk, and begins packing up Greer’s personal items.

yesterday. RYAN I’m sorry you have to clear it, at all. She sniles, They share a beat, then it’s back to the =. nonent. RYAN

So == what's the day look like?

You wish. The NATO report is due in at noon. You'll have to read and initial it. You have a staff conference at fourteen hundred -—- a China briefing at fifteen-thirty.

She picks up the cardboard box and walks out, closing the door behind her.

Ryan goes behind the desk, reaches under the center drawer -- we HEAR a FAINT BUZZ -=- then a panel on the left wall slides back, revealing a safe.

He crosses to the safe, cocks his head, recalis the combination, spins it in.

The safe door pops open; Ryan lifts out a thick manila envelope labeled EYES ONLY. He closes the safe, steps back to the desk, sits down, opens the envelope, and takes out ea dossier on Wesley Hardin and his wife, Elaine.

There’s a stack of press clippings on top:

"Multi-Millionaire and Bride Found Murdered on Yacht" e+ "Hardin International Buys United Intelligence" -- "Hardin Lands Panama Preject,” etc. It

appears the man was @ major player.

Ryan sits back, starts reading into the file. « TIME CUT:

THE OFFICE

Ryan’s in front of a computer screen, studying @ financial statement for "HARDIN INTERNATIONAL.*®

The door opens, Nancy looks in.

He looks back to the screen, makes an entry in a notebook, slips the book into his coat, shuts off the terminal, crosses back to the desk, gathers up the dossier, steps to the safe, opens it, and places the envelope inside.

There’s a stack of papers on a lower shelf. He lifts them out, riffs through them, starts to put them back, then his eye catches something: The shelf is covered with a rubber mat bl at the edge of the mat, the tip of a (3x5) card is visible.

Ryan lifts the mat, slips the card out, and we SEE a safe combination (R7-L12-R16-L14) lettered in ink.

He studies the card a moment, then places it back under the mat, closes the safe door, steps back to his desk, pushes the under-drawer BUZZER, and the wall panel slides shut.

Ryan stares at the panel a moment, then turns and starts out of the office.

Establish. -

Emil Jacobs is behind his desk. Two men and a young woman are seated across from him and a dark, attractive, 30-ish lady is at his elbow, taking notes.

Empire Builder sailed from Lauderdale on the 14th.

The office door opens and Ryan walks in. Everybody gets up (except Jacobs).

The First Agent extends his hand.

Handshakes all around; Jacobs gestures at the lady taking

notes.

7ACOBS Moira Gomez, my executive assistant.

Ryan and Moira share a nod; he settles into a chair next to

Murray. - JACOBS (at Ryan) So, what do you make of the killings? RYAN

I’d say they were executions, sir.

, MURRAY Moira...

She nods, makes a note. Jacobs sits back, studies Ryan.

RYAN

That’s my hunch, sir.

Jacobs gets up, crosses to a window, looks out to the west (towards the White House}. The Director takes a beat; Sighs.

We're in a VIP lounge on the top floor. Greer’s ina

wheelchair, Ryan's standing across from him. The Adniral’s been leafing through Ryan’s notebook; he looks up. -

GREER

‘Who else knows about this? RYAN

Jacobs =-— the Task Force people. GREER

That‘’s all? (as Ryan nods) Good. Keep it that way.

Ryan frowns; Greer nods.

He passes Ryan the notebook.

A Navy CORPSMAN enters the lounge.

Greer holds up his hand.

He turns back to Ryan.

Greer waits for it.

RYAN

Should I know what it opens? GREER

You should: Bob Ritter’s safe. RYAN

Jf Does he have yours?

Ryan blinks, doesn’t get it.

He turns, calls to the Sailor.

There’s a Dodge panel van parked at the edge of the clearing. Clerk is standing next to it. The vehicle’s rear door is open, revealing two (communications) TECHNICIANS sitting before an array of sophisticated

transmission equipment.

We hold a moment, then one of the Techs gets up, steps to the van door, and calls to Clark.

Clark turns -= looks up -= we HEAR the WHOP-WHOP of a HELICOPTER’S ROTORS.

Suddenly, a huge, blacked-out Sikorsky Pave Low chopper THUNDERS in over the treeline.

The helo arcs around and touches down in the middle of the clearing.

A CREWMAN appears in the door, shouts.

The squad of Hispanic-American seldiers (from the earlier SCENE) start pouring cut of the chopper. The men have switched their camouflage fatigues for tan khaki; each grunt is loaded to the gills with weapons and ammo.

Eight men come out -- then Chavez -= followed by his Captain. As each man hits the ground, they turn hard left to avoid the tail rotor -=- race ten steps from the helo -- and drop to their bellies under the whirling blade.

The Crewman shouts into the helicopter.

- CREWMAN Clear! Clear! . Clear!

The chopper’s ENGINES WHINE -- the main rotor CHURNS, whipping up a hundred-knot downwash. The copter lifts off, and in the blink of an eye, its spectral shape vanishes into the night sky.

Clark hurries over and ducks down next to the Captain.

Chavez crawls up and INTO FRAME; Clark smiles at hin.

Country. He looks to the Captain, nodding at Chavez.

The Captain nods; Clark looks back to Chavez.

Ready, kid?

Clark and Chavez rise, drop into a crouch, and disappear into the jungle.

Ritter’s at a window; tense, on edge, waiting. A PHONE RINGS.

He steps to his desk, picks up the receiver, listens for a moment, hangs up, turns, locks PAST CAMERA.

cutter’s in a wing chair, sucking en an unlit pipe. He removes the briar, looks at Ritter, nods with a curious

stile.

Cortez, Escobedo, and a third man are on a terrace everlooking the grounds. The new guy’s fat and flashy; cocaine-chic. In the b.g. we SEE swarms of troops setting up gun emplacements, clearing fire zones, planting mines. The fat guy gestures at the action.

GoY Are you are expecting an invasion, Colonel?

CORTEZ

A wise man is prepared for any contingency, Senor Diaz.

DIAZ shakes his head. DIAZ (THE GUY)

I think the whole thing is crazy. They wouldn’t dare set foot in here.

We HEAR a man call from O0.S.

Cortez turns, leoks PAST CAMERA.

30,

ANOTHER ANGLE <-- as two'men approach (with their backs To CAMERA).

ANOTHER ANGLE -- ON SIPO; a thin, mustached Latin with a bright red scar on his left cheek.

ANOTHER ANGLE -- ON RAMIREZ; he’s a big one, rodent-eyed, black-as-coal, scary as hell. -

Sipo and Ramirez CLICK their heels; the Major turns to Cortez.

" CORTEZ Excellent...

* _ (at Escobedo) With your permission.

Escobedo nods; the Colonel and his Officers walk off.

Diaz watches after them a moment, turns back to Escobedo, snorts.

The Empire Builder is end-tied off a pier. A phalanx of =. armed seanen stand guard over her.

The deck of the yacht is awash with FBI agents, searching every nook and cranny of the boat.

More agents, plus Murray, Rita, a C.G. LIEUTENANT, and Ryan, who's standing at a bookcase, riffing through a volume. He sets it down, picks up another; his eye snags the Lieutenant.

RYAN

We'll know when we find it, - Lieutenant.

Back to the book.

Two AGENTS are disemboweling an inflatable Zodiac rubber boat, slicing the vessel into pieces, examining each new

section with care. One of the Agents slices open a panel, squeezes it; his face lights up.

i FIRST AGENT Helio! -

The Second Agent turns, watches as the First extracts a small waterproof pouch from inside the rubber panel.

The First Agent slits the pouch open, reaches in, takes out a clear plastic box; inside are five PC computer disks.

Ryan's staring at the box; the rest of the gang is staring at him. He looks to Murray.

Ryan and Murray are at a terminal; a TECH is scrolling through a (blank) disk. The disk ENDS; the Tech looks up.

‘TECH

That’s it == ‘nother blank. MURRAY

Snit! TECH

Anynore?

Ryan opens the plastic box, takes out the last disk, passes it to the Tech, who slips it into the port, calls it up == and BANG! == there it is: Columns of figures and rows of (coded) words.

A (typical) drug smuggler layout; narrow runway hacked through the cane, small fuel shack, piles of gas cans, scattering of guards.

There’s a Beechcraft King Air on the strip; guys are humping cartons of you know what into the plane.

We HEAR Chavez’s VOICE OVER.

-

ANGLE == on Chavez and three other squad members, crouched down next to a stand of trees that border the runway.

Chavez has a cellular phone to his ear.

INTERCUT =~ CLARK’S COMMUNICATION VAN One of the Techs is on with Chavez.

Clark steps in behind the Tech, takes the phone fron hin.

BACK TO SCENE

Chavez rises up a bit; he can’t see the numbers from his POV.

INTERCUT = THE VAN CHAVEZ (OVER, CONT’D) No security assets are evident at this tine, ° Clark snaps a switch on the panel, barks into a mike.

Clark picks up the phene. Assets are at plus one hour, Reno. BACK TO SCENE Chavez smiles. CHAVEZ

That should do just fine, VARIABLE. Over and out. ;

TIME CUT ~ THE AIRSTRIP - NIGHT

It’s raining now, pouring, in fact. The runway is lit by a

line of sputtering flares; the King Air is at the far end, ENGINES REVVING.

Chavez and Squad are hunkered under the trees, squinting into the rain.

The engines PEAK -- the plane RUMBLES down the strip -- lifts off over the trees... and disappears into the rain.

Nobody did; Chavez grabs up the cellular phone.

Cliark’s at the panel...

He turns to the Tech,

A U.S. Air Forge F-15 SCREAMS INTO FRAME.

The RADIO CRACKLES.

The fighter PILOT answers.

PILOT

Eight-Three, Quebec, this is Two-Six-Alpha. I read you five, over.

Over.

The Pilot dials in his navigation computer; the jet banks left, flashes out of sight.

The King Air DRONES INTO FRAME.

Two young Americans are crewing the plane; the PILOT is at the controls, the CO-PILOT’s dozing in his chair.

GARTH BROOKS CROONS from a CD PLAYER.

The F-15 appears; the Pilot spots the Beechcraft ea half mile ahead, three thousand feet below.

The Pilot flicks a switch on the communication panel.

- MAN (OVER) We copy, Two-Six-Alpha. Over and out. .

The fighter swoops down and tucks in behind the King Air. The Pilot throttles back, matches the Beech’s airspeed.

The Pilot switches on the jet’s landing lights; flicks a toggle on the com panel.

restricted airspace. Identify immediately, over.

The Pilot bolts up in his seat.

The F-15 Pilot’s VOICE BOOMS from the speaker.

‘PILOT (OVER) Aireraft in view, if you do not identify I will open fire. Over.

¥ CO-PILOT Oh, man -- what do we do?

The Pilot leans into the stick; the Beech dives down.

The F-15 Pilot kills his Lights; hits the throttle, zooms up five thousand feet, executes a hammerhead, and tucks the plane into a nose-down attitude.

The King Air’s on the deck now, twenty feet off the water.

The F-15’s radar locks on the Beech. The Pilot sucks in a breath, flexes his finger on the “guns” button.

The King Air appears on the fighter’s Heads-Up Display; the Pilot FIRES.

A line of green tracers lance through the darkness. The Beechcraft EXPLODES in a fiery ball.

The F-15 flares UP and OUT OF FRAME.

GO TO BLACK

Establish.

The lights are DOWN. Cutter, Moore, Ritter, Jacobs, Murray, and two other MEN are seated at a conference table. Ryan’s standing next to a projection screen.

He CLICKS the remote; a DEA mug shot of Escobedo flashes on the screen.

CLICK; another SLIDE pops on, this one of Hardin behind a broad expanse of desk (with an autographed photo of the President in prominent display).

: RYAN He set himself up as the general partner representing f-reign money.

and they turned out to be profitable.

Another SLIDE: It’s the rows of figures and coded words from the disk, now encrypted to read as an accounting ledger.

Another SLIDE: Swiss money transfer records.

' RYAN

| Just Hardin. He structured it so

| that he was the only one who could get in. ,

| RYAN Every penny.

- Ryan nods; the Judge grins.

FIRST MAN

They’ll never let you keep it.

Ryan CLICKS again; the room lights come UP. Cutter turns to Moore; they share a look.

: MOORE I guess you’d better tell the old man. CUTTER — No way, Juége, it’s not ny investigation.

He looks back to Ryan, smiles.

a CUTTER This one belongs to Ryan.

Ryan blinks.

The President is standing behind his desk, a flustered look on his face.

Ryan’s standing across the desk; Cutter, Ritter, and Moore are seated around hin.

The Pres looks away, sighs.

. PRESIDENT Jesus! .I knew the man for forty years. We went to school together, for chrissake. Hunted -- fished <= catted around. Hell, for a time, there, he was my very best friend.

He turns back to Cutter.

He looks away again, shakes his head.

Eyes shift around the room; the Pres turns back to Ryan.

Well, I guess there’s one thing to be said for this mess: At least then drug boys are gonna end up with a nice big dent in their wallets.

The President turns to Cutter.

-

~ PRESIDENT Speaking of whom, this don’t change nothing, Jimny.

Cutter’s eyes flick off Ritter’s back to the Pres; Ryan

catches the look.

Ryan’s eyes narrow.

Ryan’s at the Admiral’s bedside.

Greer pulls himself up in bed.

door. RYAN

You mean my office door, sir. GREER

(winks) Now you're getting it... You said - Jacobs ig going down to meet with - their Minister of Finance... (as Ryan nods) Might be a good idea if you tagged along. Get a look-see for yourself.

” GREER I do like the way you move, son.

Greer‘s smile.suddenly disappears; he grabs his middle,

lets out a moan,

Ryan sprints to the door, opens it, calls out.

A NURSE and two Corpsmen are at a station up the hall: they turn to Ryan.

The Nurse snaps to.

She double-times down the hall with the Corpsemen on her heels. Ryan steps aside, the Corpsmen rush to the Admiral.

Ryan starts back into the room; the Nurse holds up her hand.

Ryan hesitates.

a.

Ryan takes a beat, nods, backs out of the roon.

Our POV is THROUGH NIGHT VISION GOGGLES, FRAMED on a cocaine processing plant (which is really nothing more than a couple of tin-roofed shacks and a half-dozen peasants cooking down coca leaves in a bathtub-like kettie).

There’s a guy with an AK-47 standing sentry over the action.

Our VIEW WIPES to semi-darkness -- CLOSE ON CHAVEZ. He’s in full warpaint, a smail radio at his lips.

The squad (and Captain) hurry OUT OF FRAME.

BACK TO SCENE

He clicks off the radio, raises his rifle -- counts out in silence ~- and when he reaches ten, he FIRES a (SILENCED)

ROUND into the sentry. a. The guard collapses like a house of cards.

The peasants at the kettle grab at a stack of M-15’s. The Captain and his men burst out of the jungle, FIRING from the hip. The six campesinos bite the dust in the blink of

an eye.

Chavez runs forward to the Captain; their eyes flash off the bodies, back to each other’s.

si

There’s a large pile of bagged leaves next to them; Chavez nods at it.

The Captain shakes hie head.

The Captain whirls around, shouts at his squad.

Chavez’s eye catches the body of the fallen sentry. He stares down at the man -- his first "kill."

* ; CAPTAIN (0.S.) Chavez... CHAVEZ (without turning) Sir. CAPTAIN. Move out.

Chavez takes another beat, then turns and vanishes into the cane.

Establish.

WILLIAMS, a skinny, flint-eyed man, is on his feet. So's Cathy; both in surgical greens, both red hot.

A third man sits in the middle of their harangue, calmly a. evaluating the dialogue.

He sighs,

“CATHY And I’m telling you, Williams, if you subject that eye to six thousand rams of cobalt, you’re going to fry it to a cinder. And then where is she, Doctor?

shakes his head, turns to the seated man.

, WILLIAMS Tell her, Dr. Polk!

POLK clears his throat, looks up at Cathy.

-don’t get them all, they'll most

certainly spread inte the cranial sack,

Cathy frowns, Williams smiles.

Cathy’s eyes flash on Williams, back to Polk.

Now, Cathy smiles, Williams frowns.

He gets up, starts out; Cathy and Williams share a glare.

A chopper’s WHOOPING UP in'‘the b.g. The President is hurrying towards it, dodging questions from a horde of REPORTERS.

The Pres cups a hand behind an ear (Ronnie Reagan-style).

He squints, shakes his head, "tries" to recall.

The President reaches the boarding stairs of the ‘copter, turns back to the press, sniles.

He shakes his head, holds the snile. PRESIDENT Just goes to show you what some folks’1l1 do toe sell newspapers. A Marine Guard salutes, the Pres returns it, gives the assembled a big wave, and disappears into the helo.

Establish.

<=

He’s on the phone. Major Sipo and Captain Ramirez are across the room, playing cards. ‘

The room door bursts open; Escobedo struts in, followed by three CARTEL-TYPES.

Corte? jumps to his feet.

CORTEZ

-Jefe... (into phone) X?12 call you back.

He hangs up. ESCOBEDO

They struck the camp at Corona del Mar last night. Everyone is dead.

A little dandy named ROJAS pops off in a squeaky tenor. ROJAS

Three plants in ten days. What do you say about that, Cortez?

ROJAS

Which is obviously not good enough. I have lost twenty men -- and three planes.

A servant enters with a cellular phone. Escobedo holds up a hand.

He takes the phone from the servant.

Clark’s communication van is parked under a tree.

Ciark’s studying a map tabie. The Techs are on duty in front of the panel. Suddenly, one of them perks up.

Clark hurries over to the panel.

The Tech FLICr~ a SPEAKER on.

Yes.. es

mo, DIAZ (OVER) We've lost another delivery.

INTERCUT - THE DINING ROOM Escobedo frowns.

INTERCUT - EXT. DIAZ’S HACIENDA

He’s in a bathrobe, standing next to a pool, with a phone to his ear. A trio of young monokini’d senoritas frolic in the b.g.

DIAZ

The damned piane didn’t appear. Just like the others.

INTERCUT = ESCOBEDO’S *.

INTERCUT - THE VAN

The transmission ends; Clark takes a beat, smiles.

° . CORTEZ Senor Escobedo...’

Escobedo stops, turns back.

CORTEZ

Alone, por favor. Escobedo turns to the others.

They exit. Cortez jerks his head at Sipo and Ramirez; they step out onto a terrace off the roon.

4s.

Escobedo slams a fist on the desk.

Escobedo’s eyes go hard.

Escobedo takes a beat, nods to hisself.

: . ESCOBEDO We kill hin! -

Cortez reacts, shakes his head, adamant.

Escobedo reacts, suspicious.

country. ESCOBEDO It’s worth it! CORTEZ =.

But, it’s not, Senor. If you kill hin, they'll come down on us like the wrath of God. There’ll be no defense from it, Jefe. It could cost you everything.

Escobedo weighs the Colonel’s words.

They share a look, Escobedo grunts again, walks out of the. room. Cortez turns; Sipo and Ramirez are standing in the terrace doorway.

The Colonel grins, conspiratorially.

Ryan’s limo purrs at idle in front of the house. Cathy swings her car down the drive, parks, gets out, nods at the limo driver, and starts up the front steps.

He’s behind his desk, packing a briefcase. He unlocks a drawer, takes out a file, drops it into the case, looks back to the drawer.

There’s a 9 mm automatic lying there. He picks up the gun, studies it.

ANGLE - THE FRONT HALL

Cathy pulls off her coat, drops it on a bench, starts for the door to Ryan’s office. ;

BACK TO SCENE

Ryan hefts the automatic (as if, perhaps, he’s trying to Gecide whether to take it with him or net).

Cathy appears in the doorway, stops, SEES the gun in his hand, bites her lip. .

He stares at the pistol a moment longer, then sets it back Gown, closes the drawer, locks it.

Cathy sighs audibly.

Ryan turns -- they share a look -- a PHONE on the desk RINGS; he answers.

He hangs up; his eyes dart back to hers.

Are you all packed?

Ryan snaps the briefcase shut.

° RYAN ; CATHY Be careful. RYAN I’m always careful. CATHY (aroll)

Momm, I renember. He steps to her, pulis her close, they kiss, separate.

As Ryan and Cathy reach the front door, ten-year-old SALLY RYAN and her brother J.R. bound down the stairs.

Sally’s first into Ryan’s arns.

A kiss, then it’s J.R.‘s turn.

Sally clucks, rolls her eyes.

J.R. takes the lecture to heart; he looks like he’s about to burst into tears. Ryan ruffles his son‘’s hair.

He sets him down, leans over, gives Cathy a peck, then gathers up his gear; his eyes shift back to her.

Ryan exits; the family watches after hin.

A Cadillac limo idles on the tarmac next to a Chevy sedan. The Caddy’s rear window is down, a distinguished-looking gent peering out, his patrician brow wrinkled with concern.

The limo and car are surrounded by six Colombian Police Jeeps bristling with soldiers and machine guns. Everyone’s up, alert; something major’s going down.

A U.S. Air Force executive jet flzres in overhead, touches down and starts taxiing for a remote cargo hangar. The Jeeps pee] out after it with the limo and Chevy in their wake.

The plane rolls to a stop, the Jeeps screech up, the soldiers pour out and form a perimeter around the area.

The jet’s door opens, a’man drops down onto the runway, clocks the scene, looks back to the plane, nods. A ladder unfolds, Ryan and a second man come down fast, followed by Jacobs. .

The Cadillac and Chevrolet pull up. The limo’s rear door opens and U.S. Ambassador to Colombia, ANDREW FERRIS, hops out, shakes hands with Jacobs.

They shake hands, Ferris gestures at the open limo door, Jacobs enters the car. Ryan’s about to follow -- Ferris holds up a hand, smiles, points at the Chevy.

7 FERRIS Would you mind riding in the chase car, Doctor? I have a couple of things I’d like to go over with the Director.

He gets in the car, the man who jumped down from the plane gets into the front seat next to the driver. Ryan and the second man get into the Chevrolet. One of the Jeeps moves off, followed by the limo and sedan, trailed by another

Jeep. . -

We PAN the vehicles out of the airport.

Major Sipo lowers his field glasses, reaches into a coat pocket, pulls out a cellular phone, punches SND.

A beat; Ramirez answers.

Ramirez is standing next to a Public Works truck which is parked in the center of a busy intersection.

He snaps off the phone, turns to the truck’s DRIVER.

The Driver grabs a two-way radio, exits the truck, climbs up onto the cab, gets into the tub of a cherry picker, and begins craning up towards an overhead traffic light.

Ramirez turns, hurries off towards a building across the intersection.

The motorcade rushes PAST CAMERA.

Jacobs is staring out the side window. Ferris has just said something -- the Director turns to hin.

JACOBS _ That wasn’t my question, Andy. I asked if you think they’1l play ball?

Jacobs looks back to the window, back to the shanties and rampant poverty; he sighs, muses.

Our POV is from the cherry picker. The truck Driver is staring up the highway -- then he spots the motorcade -- picks up the radio, snaps it on.

THE INTERSECTION - ANOTHER ANGLE

We're in a third floor apartment. Ramirez is standing at a window overlooking the square. He’s got a radio to his ear. . RAMIREZ A que distancia?

Ramirez clicks the radio off, looks out across the square towards a similar building where another Latin is standing in a third floor window. Their eyes lock; Ramirez raises his fist, then turns and focuses on another man in a building diagonally across the intersection.

He repeats the gesture, then looks back to the room and beckons at two men with an antitank grenade launcher.

The men set up the rocket at the window, the loader slips a projectile into the tube, taps the gunner on his shoulder, the gunner takes aim on the intersection.

THE CHERRY PICKER... as the motorcade approaches, preceded by an aging pick-up with a bedfull of kids and dogs.

The Driver flicks a switch on the traffic signal; the light | goes GREEN (in favor of the motorcade).

The traffic accelerates.

Then the Driver hits the switch again -- the light goes RED.

The pick-up driver reacts, slamming on his brakes. The lead Jeep skids up behind the truck, the limo driver wrestles the Caddy to a lurching stop.

56,

QUICK CUTS TO THE THREE APARTMENT WINDOWS... as the grenade launchers FIRE their missiles.

The ROCKETS SCREAM down in perfect triangulation -- the LIMO EXPLODES in a blinding FLASH.

Ryan and the second man from the plane are in the rear, a THIRD MAN is next to the driver.

All four react to the explosion.

The driver stands on the brakes, doors fly open, Ryan and the other men pour out of the car.

Ryan starts for the limo <= the Caddy’s gas tank ignites -- a sheet of flame billows out, forcing him back.

He stands there, staring at the burning wreckage, helpless, unable to respond.

a GO TO BLACK

FADE UP:

The President’s alone, behind his desk, watching a TV set.

INSERT - THE TV

A live CNN Special Report on "... the assassination of FBI Director Emil Jacobs in Bogota, Colombia, earlier today."

A MAN speaks OVER a floodlit shot of the intersection where the motorcade was attacked. The picture carries an acknowledgement: Courtesy HOY TV.

The Pres frowns, reaches for a phone. PRESIDENT

(into phone)

The Pres MUTES the SOUND.

INTERCUT —- EXT. GEORGETOWN ~ DAY Establish (Cutter’s) elegant townhouse.

: PRESIDENT (OVER) You watching this thing?

Cutter and Ritter are on their feet, eyes riveted to the TV.

; MAN (OVER, CONT’D) eee and after two decades of meritorious field service --

Cutter pinches a remote, turns to a SPEAKER PHONE.

Cutter’s eyes ricochet off Ritter’s.

INTERCUT = OVAL OFFICE

anything.

INTERCUT = CUTTER’S LIBRARY

The Pres CLICKS OFF; Cutter hangs up the phone, looks away, takes a beat, turns back to Ritter.

RITTER

A beat; Ritter gets it.

RITTER

It could be done -- but I need some extraordinary resources.

« ; ; 59.

Establish.

Ryan and three other men are in the room. One of then is 30-ish, dark, Hispanic-~American. Another’s dressed in the uniform of a U.S. Army MAJOR. The fourth man is older, swarthy, a COLONEL in the Colombian Police.

Ryan’s hefting a grenade launcher (like the ones used in the assassination).

: RYAN It used to be issue, Major -- they replaced it two years ago.

Ryan turns, eyes the Colonel.

. RYAN Never! There are millions of these things, scattered all over the world.

The Colonel shrugs, offers no counter. Ryan sets the launcher down on a desk, the office door opens, an AIDE sticks his head in, addressing the Hispanic man.

geven- MORALES tenses; “seven" hit a nerve. 2.

POWERS nods, exits. Morales steps behind the desk, gestures at the phone.

rd

He lifts the receiver, turns his back to the others.

| MORALES (into phone) Morales...

RITTER ~ Okay, then listen: Tell Clark the asset will be in place at twenty-two hundred.

“ORALES (OVER) I’1l tell hin... (Lower) -But-I still think it’s a mistake.

” . RITTER I don’t give a shit what you think, Morales. Is he there?

INTERCUT = THE EMBASSY Morales turns back to the room, his eyes land on Ryan.

Ritter hangs up, so does Morales, nodding at the phone.

Merales BUZZES an INTERCOM; Powers answers.

Morales looks up, smiles.

Ryan gives him a side-of-eye; this guy needs watching.

Cortez and Escobedo, face-to-face in a living roon.

had nothing to do with it! I didn’t -order their deaths.

sO CORTEZ Yes, senor, and I believe you. Sut the Americans may not.

A WOMAN appears in a doorway.

WOMAN

Senor Diaz called -~ he will pick you and the Colonel up at seven.

He waves her off, turns back to Cortez.

ESCOBEDO «. What more can they do to us, Cortez?

The aircraft carrier U.S.S. Ranger PASSES to the WEST, cruising into a fiery sunset.

J

This is the ship’s ammo center; all the ordinance for the carrier is stored here.

CAPTAIN ROBBY JACKSON and a CPO are at a test bench, inspecting a 54C Phoenix air-to-air missile.

, ROBBY Ten to twenty -~- enough to tell whether the fix works or not.

A tractor RUMBLES UP, towing a pallet of sky~blue two-thousand pound "smart" bombs, fitted with seeker heads on their noses and movable fins on the tails. The tractor pauses, waiting for an elevator.

Robby eyes the bomb, the CPO eyes him. They share a look, the Chief smiles.

He raps a knuckle on the bomb casing -- the SOUND is DULL -- not metallic.

Robby reaches out and taps the bomb.

There’s a launch in progress; A-14’s SCREAMING down the catapults, vaulting off into the darkening sky.

Robby’s in the greenhouse, overlooking the flight deck.

The last F-14 hurtles up and off; Robby turns to the LAUNCH DIRECTOR.

Robby looks to a computer screen that outlines the launch activity.. -

Robby steps over to the window, scans the deck.

An A-6 Intruder is taxiing into launch position. One of "those" baby-blue bombs is slung under, the airplane.

Robby spots the bomb; his eyes narrow. The Intruder hooks up in the catapult -- flashes down the deck -- disappears into the nist.

Robby stares after it; looks away in thought.

Our POV is from a nearby hilltop. We SEE Rojas and his bodyguards in the courtyard of an opulent mansion. Limo-loads of cartel-types are arriving. <.

Clark turns away from the glasses, looks to Chavez who's standing next to a tripod-mounted GLD (Ground Laser

Designator).

Clark studies Chavez.

What else? There’s nothing out there for me.

They share a look; Clark smiles.

That is, unless you got something against dirty wars.

Chavez holds his look.

The restaurant’s perched on the top of one of the city’s «. tallest buildings. It’s a formal kind of place; upscale diners, a white-tied string quartet.

An elevator door opens, Ryan and Morales get off. Morales steps to the MAITRE D’, steps back to Ryan.

They cross to a bar; Motales signals the BARTENDER, who hurries up to then.

Hey -- how often do I get to entertain a Deputy Director?

The Bartender returns with their vodkas. They each pick up a glass, Morales raises his.

° MORALES Absent friends.

Ryan nods, they both take hits, share a look.

: MORALES When would that be?

A Bogota POLICE CAPTAIN walks past, spots Morales, stops.

Captain Diego -- Dr. Ryan.

They shake hands; Ryan eyes the uniforn.

Of course -- Finding the assassins is my highest priority.

; DIEGO None, as yet.

Diego shifts his weight; he’s not used to answering questions. Morales reads hit, steps into the breach.

Diego waves 0.58.

The Captain hurries off.

RYAN # He heard I was coming down? How could that be?

Morales smiles, shakes his head. MORALES

That’s Bogota for you, Doctor. This place is Chinatown: Everybody knows

- everything. eo RYAN

Except who killed Emil Jacobs. The Maitre d@’ approaches.

MAITRE D’

Senor Morales -- your table is ready. . Morales gestures. MORALES

Shall we...?

Ryan turns, walks off; Morales frowns.

A 600SEL Mercedes is WAILING down a narrow road, bordered on both sides by dense jungle.

Escobedo and Diaz are on the rear seat, Cortez is up front next to the DRIVER.

INTERCUT - THE ROAD AHEAD

Major Sipo is kneeling ten yards off the concrete, hidden by the undergrowth.

We HEAR the CAR approaching.

Sipo raises a (silenced) sniper’s rifle, fitted with a night scope.

The car rushes INTO FRAME ~~ Sipo aims for the right rear wheel -- FIRES... the TIRE BLOWS.

The DRIVER cranks the wheel -- the Mercedes sloughs across the road, skids to a rude halt.

He looks to Cortez.

Cortez slips a cellular phone out of his pocket, dials.

INTERCUT + A HIGHRISE APARTMENT ON MIAMI BEACH = NIGHT

A WOMAN is sitting at a desk in a negligee, filing her nails. A PHONE RINGS. She picks it up.

The Woman places the phone in the cradle of a switching box and presses a button.

INTERCUT «+ THE MERCEDES

We HEAR a BUZZ-BUZZ <-~- Rojas answers. =. ROJAS (OVER) Si...? CORTEZ

We've been detained...

INTERCUT - THE HACIENDA

Rojas is in a hallway, on a phone. The cartel-types are milling around in the b.g., huffing and puffing.

: ' ROJAS Hurry -- they’re getting nervous.

The LINE CLICKS off.

The A-6 Intruder (with the smart bomb attached) WHISTLES INTO FRAME.

The Pilot’s on his radio.

Clark grabs up the radio.

INTERCUT - THE HILLTOP

Clark turns to Chavez.

7 70.

Chavez throws a switch on the GLD -- peers into the laser’s eyepiece.

Now, we’re FOCUSED on a white Cadillac limo parked in front of the Hacienda. A red dot appears in the FRAME -- Chavez maneuvers it -- centers it on the Caddy.

INTERCUT = THE A-6

The BOMBARDIER/NAVIGATOR is in the rear seat, staring at his scope. The red dot appears in the lower left quadrant.

The Driver’s changing the tire. Escobedo’s standing over hin, anxious.

The Driver tightens the last lug nut, rises, starts to pick up the ruptured tire.

Escobedo jumps into the back seat, the Driver races around the car, gets in behind the wheel; the Mercedes SCREECHES

away..

The Sombardier-Navigator’s clocking his scope; the 2. crosshairs are converging on the red dot.

' BOMBARDIER/NAVIGATOR Any time now...

We’re CLOSE ON the bomb as four SHOTGUN SHELLS FIRE, driving down the “ejector feet” onto small steel plates on the upper side of the bomb case.

The bomb separates -- the aircraft jerks up; it just lost eleven hundred pounds.

FLASH CUT - THE HILLTOP Clark turns to Chavez.

FLASH CUT -.THE MERCEDES

The car comes up ever a rise -- we SEE Rojas’s hacienda in the distance. -

”

The bomb soars in -- nails the Caddy mid-roof =-- DETONATES with a THUNDEROUS ROAR. The explosion’s shock wave penetrates the house and grounds, disintegrating everything into millions of tiny fragments.

FLASH CUT - THE HILLTOP

Clark and Chavez stare at the action.

FLASH CUT «- THE MERCEDES

The Driver’s eyes pop open, he hits the brakes. Escobedo lets out a gasp.

FLASH CUT - THE ROOFTOP RESTAURANT a.

Ryan and Morales are at a table; Ryan has his back to the skyline.

a“

ta

RYAN

It could have been -- but, as you point out -- what was his motive?

, MORALES Yeah, that’s the question. Z

He stops talking -- stares PAST CAMERA -- his eyes go wide.

Ryan turns... the sky behind them is lit up with a great white light.

The SONIC BOOM from the explosion ECHOES across the landscape.

The ROAR FADES; Ryan turns to Morales.

Ryan’s brow wrinkles.

Establish.

He’s scanning an "EYES ONLY" brief. The INTERCOM BU2ZES.

WOMAN’S VOICE Directer Ritter is here. ‘CUTTER Send him in.

A beat, the door opens, Ritter bounds in, an excited smile on his face.

The line jars Cutter.

- CUTTER - What do you mean?

Cutter bolts up straight in his chair.

gay. CUTTER But -- this is coldblooded murder. RITTER (hotter) .

You said the gloves were off. You said treat it as a war. I’m sorry if there were extraneous people

around =-- but, dammit, there always

are. CUTTER

What if the papers get hold of it? a. RITTER

Tell you what -- if you don’t tell the newsies, neither will I.

Cutter gets up, shakes his head.

He looks out across the court towards the Oval Office.

RITTER

So, con't tell hin. Cutter spins around, stares at hin. -- CUTTER Would. you?

He starts for the door.

CUTTER © No more bombs, okay?

Ritter walks out without answering. Cutter turns, locke back towards the Oval Office.

Ryan is standing in a courtyard, talking to Colombian Arny Major and a Bogota Police Officer (MOS).

Our POV is from a window in Morales’ office on the second flcor of the embassy. He’s standing at the corner of a drape, looking down at Ryan and talking on the phone.

INTERCUT ~ EXT. A TENNIS CLUB IN GEORGETOWN - DAY

Ritter’s in whites, a cellular phone to his ear.

. RITTER I don’t know -- let me think. In the meantime, you stay entop of him. I want your best people covering his ass. You got that?

BACK TO SCENE

He hangs up, peeks oui the window; Ryan and the others are gone. He turns back to the room -- Ryan’s standing in the doorway -- Morales blinks, recovers.

-: MORALES Doctor... What can I do for you? RYAN I’d like to take a look at the bombsite. MORALES

The bombsite...? The hacienda that blew up last night?

His eyes narrow; Morales shifts his weight.

- " MORALES ; Anything else...

Ryan holds his stare a moment, then shakes his head, walks OUT OF FRAME. Morales lets out a breath.

Ryan’s dressed in field clothes, standing at a window, locking out on a flight line.

. CLARK (0.5.) ‘Scuse me...

Ryan turns; Clark sniles, amused. CLARK

Are you the gent who wants to go take a look at a hole in the ground?

A Piper Chieftain runs up its props, swings into the wind. Clark’s flying the plane; Ryan’s in the right seat.

The Chieftain hits the power curve, Clark releases the

brakes, the Piper scurries down the runway and lifte off, banking to the southwest.

Clark jerks a thumb to the rear.

He turns in his seat, picks up a thermos, pours Clark a cup -- turns back to set the thermos down -- spots a pair of MAC 10 machine pistols and a l2-gauge riot gun.

Ryan looks back to Clark.

They fly along in silence a moment; Ryan preaks it.

. RYAN

Are you with the Embassy? : CLARK

Nah -- strictly freelance.

Actually, most of the time I’m up in the mountains == gold prospecting.

Ryan clocks him; somehow he doesn’t look like a gold prospector.

More silence. Now, they’re at 2,000 feet, crossing a highway lined with army vehicles. Ryan gestures at the convoy.

CLARK

Not much. =. RYAN

Why’s that? CLARK

Lots of temptations... Say you’re a captain -- One night you decide to patrol one part of your area, but not another. That could be worth a hundred grand.

bulletproof. RYAN

You tmhake it sound hopeless. CLARK

That’s not a favorite word of nine, but, yeah, it’s about as close to hopeless as it gets. -

Clark banks the Chieftain left, begins climbing into an overcast sky.

The Admiral comes through the hatch, followed by Robby. PAINTER crosses to a bar, pours himself a drink.

ROBBY

I know I’m not cleared for this,

sir... PAINTER

Just keep talking, Captain. «. ROBBY

Yes, sir. After the plane launched, I went up to CIC and followed it on radar. It cressed the beach into Colombia -=- came back ort from a different direction. Then, this morning, CNN’s rattling about some humongous explosion outside Bogota.

Painter takes a swallow.

PAINTER

No, Robby, I didn’t. Painter slams his glass down.

They share a look.

there.

PAINTER

Oh, yeah, I’ve met him. He was on the Kennedy for a day or two, back when we were chasing that Russkie...

Painter catches himself, smiles.

ROBBY

Yes, sir.

ac.

The Chieftain slips out of a fog bank, swoops down into a

valley. Rojas’ ruined hacienda lies spread out below. An enormous crater yawns where the house once stood. Dozens

of ambulances and security vehicles dot the scene.

Ryan ang Clark survey the damage.

, RYAN Who said it was a car bomb?

; CLARK That’s what I heard at the airport.

Ryan looks back to the bombsite, flashes a skeptical frown.

The Chieftain touches down.

Ryan, Clark, Captain Diego, and assorted other uniformed types are surveying the wreckage. A pair of ambulance attendants pass by, toting a corpse on a stretcher. Ryan’s eyes follow the pair, then back to Diego’s.

RYAN a Try five tons -- and even then you couldn’t punch a crater that deep.

. DIEGO Of course, Doctor, right this way.

He walks OUT OF FRAME. Ryan and Clark share a look, follow after the Captain.

The shattered remains of the white Caddy limo (that Chavez sighted on), are spread out over the floor of the shed. Ryan’s inspecting the collage of rubble, picking up pieces of metal and trim, studying them, placing them back, picking up another.

Finally, a torn section of reof panel attracts his careful attention. %

Clark nods; Ryan holds up the roof section, traces a finger along the ragged edge of the painted surface.

-_

We HEAR a COPTER WHOPPING IN overhead.

A Jet Ranger circles a pad, sets down. Two security-types drop to the tarmac, big, mean apes with shoulder-holstered Mac’s over their Hawaiian shirts. Then Cortez steps out in full uniform, followed by Escobedo in a flowing white trenchccoat.

Two of the military-types in Ryan’s party excuse themselves and hurry over to the new arrivals; handshakes and bear hugs all around.

Escobedo and the others start walking off towards the bombsite. -

Cortez lingers a moment; his eyes find Ryan’s, they hold a stare, then the Colonel turns and walks after his boss.

Clark nods at the group.

CLARK : The dude in the white coat’s Escobedo.

Ryan studies Clark.

The Chieftain breaks through a cloud; Bogota’s up ahead. The plane’s RADIO is SQUAWKING.

Clark shuts off the radio.

- " RYAN I see you’re pretty well known.

Clark gestures behind them (changing the subject).

Clark returns the smile, looks back to the horizon.

The Piper taxis up to a closed hangar door. Clark kille the switch, Ryan opens the door, gets out, Clark follows

hin down.

There's an Embassy town car in the b.g. A young DRIVER’s leaning against a front fender. As Ryan hits the tarmac,

the Driver snaps up straight.

Then one of Clark’s Techs starts rolling back the hangar door, revealing the communications van, the other Tech, and a wall of shelving loaded with weapons and electronic

equipment.

The Tech turns toward the plane -- his eyes hit Clark’s -- Clark shouts.

The Tech jumps inside the hangar, yanks the door shut. Clark turns to Ryan, grins.

Ryan takes a beat; this guys definitely no gold prospector.

Ryan takes another beat, nods.

He turns, makes for the town car. Clark watches after him.

Ryan’s asleep;. the PHONE wakes him up. ” RYAN

- (into phone) Yeah. aes

INTERCUT = MORALES’ OFFICE He’s on the phone; his Aide’s standing across from hin.

Morales looks to a paper on the desk. MORALES Admiral Greer’s condition

deteriorating. Critical surgery scheduled tomorrow oh-nine hundred.

He hangs up, gets up, hurries OUT OF FRAME.

Our POV is THROUGH a NIGHT SCOPE: We’re FOCUSED ON another processing plant (far larger than the earlier site).

Scores of workers shuffle through the clearing, humping coca bales, stirring giant kettles, loading product onto trucks. Armed guards walk the perimeter; this one’s no

piece a’ cake.

Our VISION WIPES == to Clark and Chavez -- who are two hundred yards from the plant. Clark sucks that tooth,

shakes his head.

He picks up a_radio, speaks into it.

: CLARK What's it look like, Captain?

INTERCUT = THE CAPTAIN (AND ANOTHER WIDE POV OF THE PLANT)

His eyes roam over the landscape.

The Captain looks to his watch.

thirty.

He snaps off the radio, tucks it into his jacket, turns to Chavez; they share a look.

Clark grins, Chavez returns it.

He pushes oi: towards the plant; Chavez dogs his heels.

Clark and his people burst out of the jungle, laying down a HAIL of GUNFIRE.

Some guards are hit, but most take cover -- start RETURNING FIRE -~ suddenly, we’ve got a semi-gunfight going on.

A pair of 6X trucks are lumbering up the road.

Major Sipo is in the first truck, next to the driver. The SOUND of GUNFIRE echoes through the cane; Sipo cocks an ear, Btraine to listen.

More GUNFIRE.

He leans out the side window and motions for the other truck to speed up; the convoy accelerates down the road.

Clark and Chavez are next to a boiling kettle, BANGING away at the guards.

Suddenly, the trucks swing into the clearing -- the | tailgates drop -- and out come Cortez’s troops, who hit the ground FIRING.

A line of slugs RIPS into the kettle. Clark slips on his night vision gosgies, PANS the clearing ~- picks up the Captain and his guys dug in on the left, taking HEAVY FIRE.

He pulls off the glasses, yells at Chavez.

He starts away -- stops, turns back -- SEES Chavez in a crouch, moving into the action.

A STREAM of BULLETS rains in -- Clark ducks down, starts after Chavez -- the stream becomes a TORRENT.

Clark BANGS off a CLIP -~ the torrent turns into a FLOOD. There’s no way he can move forward... so he backs off, trailing into.the jungle.

Sipo’s head comes out from behind a tree. He surveys the firefight -- gestures to a soldier, who steps near hin.

The soldier node, waves to his squad; they vanish into the night OUT OF FRAME. .

Clark’s a hundred yards away now, clocking the action with the night goggles: The Captain and his seven guys are knee-deep in shit and running out of anno.

Sipo’s troopers rush in behind them and open FIRE. Three of the ninjas go down (one dead, two wounded). The Captain and the four others fight their way out of the trap and fall back to the cane line.

Sipo’s men start in after then, but the Major calls then off. .

Clark follows the action with the goggles, then PANS BACK to the plant.

Chavez is standing in the middle of the clearing, his hands <. up, flanked by two of Sipo‘’s thugs.

The Captain and his guys come running up towards Clark; he calls out.

The Captain jogs up to hin.

The Captain nods, trots off with his guys.

Clark watches them disappear up the trail. He looks back to the clearing, his eyes narrow. —

Ryan’s limo swings into the entrance drive. Ryan hops out, starts into the hospital.

Ryan comes up the hall, stops at Greer’s room, opens the door. - :

His jaw falls: the bed’s empty. He steps into the roon, stares down at the bed; his shoulders slump.

RYAN

Ryan spins around; Greer’s across the room, in an armchair, his feet up on an ottoman, a blanket around his shoulders, that old warm smile on his face.

Ryan blinks, confused.

* RYAN But -- the operation?

as.

Ryan adds it up, shakes his head.

Ryan crosses over, sits down on the arm of a chair, frowns.

GREER

Talk to me, son.

TIME CUT - THE HOSPITAL VIP LOUNGE

Greer’s in a wheelchair, Ryan’s standing across from hin.

have sent?

The Admiral’s face lights up.

- GREER Clark? ... He’s a wild man. But,

he’s awful good.

They share a lock.

ae.

Floodlights rake across an inner courtyard. Chavez and the two other (wounded) ninjas are chained to a wall surrounded by their captors. One of the guys is sagging fast; he looks like he might not make it.

Our POV is from a window in Escobedo’s study. Cortez is looking down on the prisoners, with a phone to his ear. He turns and looks out onto a terrace where Escobedo and Diaz are arguing (MOS).

*" CORTEZ No suspicions, whatever... I am positive -- Yes, very well, I will

try.

He hangs up, looks back to the ninjas a moment, then turns and steps out onto the terrace; his eyes lock onto Escobedo. Cortez smiles.

One of my contacts -=- they suggest that if I come to Washington, it may be possible to arrange a peace between us.

They both wait for it. CORTEZ I must have the authority to negotiate on your behalf.

ESCOBEDO

Do you truly think such a thing is possible? CORTEZ I do, Jefe. Especially, now. ; . DIAZ Why now? - oS CORTEZ

With the unfortunate deaths of Senor Rojas and your other associates, you and Senor Escobedo are in absolute control of the region’s product.

Escobedo and Diaz exchange a look; the Patron turns back to the Colonel.

He CLICKS his HEELS, exits; Escobedo and Diaz share a look. ~

They hold the look.

Ryan‘’s limo comes up the drive and stops. He gets out, the Driver opens the trunk, takes out the luggage, and follows Ryan up onto the porch. The Driver sets down the bags.

Oh. a.

DRIVER

I didn't know you'd be going in today, sir.

DRIVER | Ah, well, it js Sunday...

Ryan looks at his watch, looks_back to the Driver.

(smiles back) See you in the morning.

He walks off, Ryan turne to the alarm panel, punches in the code, keys the lock, enters the house. a.

She’s fast asleep; Ryan’s standing over her. He hands down, brushes her cheek with his lips.

The door opens, Ryan tiptoes in -=- but, accidentally, steps on a plastic duck. thee TOY SQUEAKS -- J.R. stirs.

INTERCUT = JACK AND CATHY'S BEDROOM Cathy bolts awake at the SOUND -- freezes -- listens.

BACK TO SCENE

J.Re rolls over =-- goes right off to sleep. Ryan crosses to his son’s bed, kneels down, smiles.

INTERCUT = THE HALLWAY

Ryan’s bedroom door opens, Cathy comes out, two-handing a -38 S&W. She starts down the hall, barefoot, quiet as a cat.

BACK TO SCENE..

Ryan’s still kneeling by 3.R.’s bed. Cathy appears in the doorway -- swings the gun up ~-- realizes it’s her husband —- relaxes, crosses over, kneels down behind Ryan,

wraps her arms around hin.

They rise up and kiss; the DOORBELL RINGS. They exchange a look, Ryan starts fer the door.

Ryan swings the door open; it’s Robby (in uniform).

Ryan sniles, steps aside, Robby walks in, they shake hands.

a. ‘

Cathy appears at the head of the stairs, pulling on a robe.

TIME CUT - RYAN‘S STUDY Robby’s sipping coffee; Ryan’s behind his desk, RYAN Why did you go up to cI¢ and follow the A-6 on radar? ROBBY

Don‘t know. Something just felt strange about it.

(smiles) Maybe hangin’ with you spook-types rubs off.

They share e smile; Ryan concentrates, nods.

.. RYAN

” {to himself) Cellulose -- that’s why there were no bomb fragments.

He looks back to Robpy.

ROBBY | And, that’s not the end of it: I flew in with one of our Air Rescue Chiefs. He said the Coast Guard picked up a doper off Veracruz. The guy claims he was shot down by a U.S. Air Force fighter.

Ryan gete up from behind the desk. RYAN You going home from here? (as Robby nods) Could you drop me at Langley?

thinking.

Ryan comes across the parking lot, enters the Agency.

He slips his I.D. necklace on, crosses the lobby, nods at a

guard, starts up a staircase.

He enters, crosses to the desk, reaches under the drawer, BUZZES the wall panel aside, steps to the safe, opens it, iifts up the lower mat, and slips out the 3x5 card (with Ritter’s combination on it).

Ryan memorizes the number, puts the card back, closes the safe, turns back to the desk, BUZZES the panel into place, heads for the door.

Two security guards waik past the DDI’s door. A beat, the door opens, Ryan steps out, checks the corridor, crosses it, and tries a door marked DDO.

Ryan slips in, walks through the secretary's area, and enters Ritter’s private office.

He crosses to the desk, reaches under the drawer -=- we HEAR a BUZZ -- a panel on the side wall slides away, revealing a safe.

Ryan walks over to the safe -- thinks a moment -- starts spinning the dial. .

A last digit -- the safe door springs free -- Ryan opens it, takes out a stack of files, sets them on Ritter’s desk, turns on a lamp, starts culling through the folders.

Inside the front cover of each file is a summary sheet describing what Operation "WHATEVER" is all about. He

riffs through EAGLE EYE, CAPER, RECIPROCITY, finally hits SHOWBOAT, scans the summary; sucks in a breath.

He shakes his head, keeps on reading.

Ryan’s at a Xerox, feeding in documents from the SHOWBOAT file. He picks up a SAT photo, stares at it: It’s a . downshot of Rojas’ ruined hacienda. ,

Ryan copies the photo.

A limo pulls up -- the driver gets out, sprints around the car -- opens the rear door; Ritter exits the limo, starts

into the building.

tn,

Ryan turns away from a window (still dressed as he was last night). He walks into his bathroom, turns on the tap, looks into the mirror, staring at his reflection.

apply.

{reverse) That’s a dangerous way to think, Ace.

Ryan holds the stare a moment, shuts his eyes.

Ritter comes through the door, nods at a pair of SECRETARIES.

FIRST SECRETARY , SECOND SECRETARY Morning, sir. Good morning, sir.

The First Secretary gets up, grabs a pad, follows Ritter into his chamber, shuts the door, starts reading from her notes.

The office door bursts open, Ryan pushes into the roon, trailed by the Second Secretary.

SECOND SECRETARY

Doctor! (at Ritter) I told him to wait, sir. «.

The ladies look to Ritter; he nods, they exit.

RYAN # I’m asking you the same question.

RITTER , You want to give me a hint what you’re talking about?

Ritter reacts, but holds his mud.

. RITTER Get the hell out of ny office.

° RYAN Reajly? Let’s see if Congress agrees.- ; RITTER You’ve got no proof. RYAN

I’ve got chapter and verse. Ritter’s eyes flash off his safe, back to Ryan.

He turns, walks out of the office; Ritter bites his lip.

Establish.

He’s at the mantel, fingering a string of worry beads. Ritter’s across the roon, fuming.

Cutter takes a beat, pockets his beads.

. RITTER But, it’s working. You've read the body count. If anything, we should be escalating it.

(snorts) That son-of-a-bitech! We've got to get rid of hinx.

Cutter sits u..m behind his desk, puts his feet up, leans back, schemes.

Cutter takes a beat, looks back to Ritter, nods at a phone.

We're FRAMED ON a tidy, one-story ranch; suburbia, Colombian-style.

A PHONE RINGS OVER THE SHOT.

Clark’s at a dining room table, studying photo blow-ups of Escobedo’s house and the fortifications surrounding the acienda.

A PHONE behind him keeps RINGING; he finally turns and picks it up.

-

CLARK

That can’t be.

INTERCUT - CUTTER’S OFFICE

CUTTER =. {into speaker phone) Ryan happened, Clark.

He and Ritter exchange a look.

INTERCUT - CLARK’S HOUSE

INTERCUT = CUITER’S OFFICE

He CLICKS

- RITTER I guess you’re not hearing us, pal. There. js no air -- no nothing. He’s shut us down tight.

RITTER

I told hin.

RITTER

Hey, talk to Ryan. OFF the SPEAKER, looks to Ritter.

Ritter’s limo glides through traffic.

He’s on the phone. RITTER

Goddammit, don’t argue with me. Get it out of there -- right now!

MORALES

(into phone) Okay, okay -~ but, what do I tell him?

He hangs up, mekes for the door.

There's a Caribe Airlines cargo jet on the tarmac, motors at the IDLE.

One of Clark’s Technicians is behind the wheel of the communications van, steering the vehicle up the plane’s

leading ramp. The other Tech is in the cargo bay, directing the procedure.

INTERCUT - THE AIRPORT ENTRANCE

A Jeep comes ROARING through the gate; Clark’s at the wheel.

BACK TO SCENE

The communications van inches into the plane, hits the shocks, the jet’s ENGINES start WINDING UP.

ANGLE - THE AIRPORT

The Jeep SCREECHES around a corner, heading for the cargo jet.

One of the Techs spots Clark at the wheel.

The cargo door starts closing, the pilot releases the brakes, the plane begins rolling down the apron.

A U.S. Embassy sedan is parked in the foreground; Morales is in the back seat, clocking the take-off. He, too, spots Clark.

The sedan takes off.

Senn stands on the Jeep’s accelerator, racing after the et.

The jet swings out onto a runway, the pilot pours on the gas, the plane: hurtles down the tarmac, lifts off into the sky. - ,

Clark slows the Jeep to a stop, stares after the jet, slams his palm on the steering wheel.

He sits there for a moment, formulating his next move, reaches a decision, U-turns the Jeep, heads back towards the airport. .

The Captain and his five ninjas are dug in, just off a trail. One of the TROOPERS is working on the radio.

He inspects the radio, turns to the Captain. TROOPER =. Batteries are starting to fade, sir. Should I stop? The Captain frowns, shakes his head. Keep trying.

“ 103.

Our POV is THROUGH BINOCULARS; we’re on a bluff three hundred yards from the house.

The front door opens, Cathy exits, dressed for work, the kids come out next, dressed for school, and then Ryan in sweats, dressed for a jog. They walk down to her car, he buckles the kids in, pecks at their noses, comes around to Cathy’s window, leans down.

I’m taking a big chance, Jack.

They kiss, he stands back, the car pulls away.

Ryan watches after it a moment, does a stretch or two, then * starts jogging down the driveway.

The BINOCULARS PAN him OUT OF FR:.iE.

Clark lowers the glasses, gets into a Dodge sedan, drives off up a dirt road.

« " - 104.

He trots out of the drive, turns right, starts down a (deserted) blacktop.

The Dodge comes up over a rise, slows.

Clark squints; SEES Ryan in the distance. He pulls the Glock out of his belt, cocks the gun, lays it on the passenger seat.

Ryan keeps on loping down the road. The Dodge approaches -- he HEARS it coming -- but doesn’t pay any attention.

Clark accelerates, coming up fast behind Ryan -- but just when we’re certain he’s going to hit him -- Clark swerves the wheel and nails the brakes.

Ryan dives for the ditch. The Dodge whips around, skidding to a stop. Clark jumps out with the gun.

Ryan crawls up out of the ditch, spitting dust.

Oo RYAN What the hell do you...

He stops; Clark approaches with the Glock leveled on Ryan.

Ryan turns, Clark steps up, slips a pair of thumb cuffs on him, leads him back to the Dodge, cpens the trunk, points at it with the gun.

Ryan obliges; Clark slams down the trunk lid. GO TO BLACK

FADE UP:

A dirt-streaked window affords us a buck-“gly view of industrial D.c. ~

The door opens -- Clark pushes Ryan into the room, shoves him down on a chair, shuts the door, picks up a phone, and sets it on a table in front of Ryan.

Clark studies him, nods to himself.

Clark's mood suddenly shifts.

A beat, and he’s back to tough guy, pointing the Glock at Ryan’s head.

; RYAN What people? s.

“ 7 106.

Clark kicks it around.

RYAN

I’m going to help you get then out. CLARK

You mean that? RYAN

_Take these things off and I’1l1 show

you: Clark steps behind Ryan, slips the cuffs off. Ryan massages his thumbs, picks up the phene, dials.

(at Clark) Where the hell are we? CLARK 26th and #. RYAN

{into phone) Ritter? Stay where you are. I'll be there in twenty minutes!

Ryan and Clark are standing across the desk from the DDO; Ritter’s copping a piea.

Ritter takes a beat, turns to Ryan.

Ritter points at Clark.

Ryan wets his lips, takes a beat, nods, resigned.

Ritter brightens, sits down behind his desk, picks up a Pen. ” .

Ritter starts making notes.

, RITTER What kind of helos? . CLARK ‘'A Pave Low for the guys... and two

Cobras.

Ryan and Ritter both react.

RYAN ™ What the hell for?

CLARK

The cartel people nabbed three of the ninjas.

« 108,

Ryan takes a moment, gets a thought.

They both turn to hin.

. CLARK Thete’s one sure way to find out.

He turns, starts out of the office. Ryan looks to Ritter, the DDO shakes his head.

He pivots, follows after Clark.

Establish.

Cathy is poised over a table, assisted by her TEAM. There’s a TV MONITOR suspended next to her.

« “> 109.

INSERT = THE MONITOR

An ECU of Sara Winter’s eye; the laser beam is flicking across the retina area, "snipping" out black spots (the tumors).

ANGLE =- THE VIEWING ROOM

Doctors Polk and Williams are observing at another MONITOR. Polk sucks in a breath.

INSERT - MONITOR

The beam "kills" a spot.

Williams nods, reluctantly.

Polk gives him a side-of-eye, looks back to the monitor.

Cathy’s at a window, looking down on a children’s Playground where a half-dozen tykes are romping. She’s ' sipping coffee, still in her greens. The lounge door opens, Dr. Williams looks in, sees her.

She turns, they share a look. WILLIAMS Congratulations, Doctor <= you did it. She’s going to make it, fine.

He smiles, starts away; an ORDERLY approaches.

She crosses to a desk, picks up a phone, punches 6.

* 110.

. “CATHY . (ante phone) Dr. Ryan...

A Caribe Airlines executive jet lifts off the runway. RYAN (OVER)

Hil

It’s a ten-passenger layout; Ryan’s in the rear, ona phone, Clark’s up front with a map of Bolivia spread out across a desk. The rest of the plane is empty.

; CATHY (OVER) Hi, yourself!

RYAN

- (into phone) So,; how did it go?

INTERCUT =- THE LOUNGE

CATHY

Thanks to you. You really nailed it for ne this morning.

INTERCUT =- THE JET

Ryan's eyes flick over the cabin. Boxes of ammo, grenades, crates of machine guns are strapped into passenger seats.

. CATHY It really does work, doesn’t it?

Ryan’s lost in thought.

Ryan comes out of it.

RYAN

Yeah -=- sure it does...

(under)

I hope. CATHY

What?

CATHY

Where are you, in the car?

RYAN

No... Ah, I’m going away for awhile.

INTERCUT =- THE LOUNGE

Cathy’s smile fades.

Oh? -Well, have a safe trip. RYAN Thanks. CATHY I’m not going to say it, Jack. RYAN (COVER) Good. CATHY (saying it)

Be careful. .

BACK TO SCENE

Ryan smiles at the line, turns off the air phone, rises, walks up to Clark, who's plotting over the map.

- . RYAN Where are they being held?

‘Wd

He reaches in his briefcase, takes out the file of photo

blow-ups, passes them to Ryan. Ryan scans through the shots, whistles low.

pry it open.

~ CLARK We're gonna take them down. RYAN

I’m an observer, Clark. CLARK _ I forgot... Guess we'll have to find you & nice safe place to watch fron. They share a look. RYAN

There’s a difference between being brave, and being an idiot.

He turns back to hie map.

Chavez and the two TROOPERS are still chained to the wall

in the courtyard. The more seriously wounded guy is moaning low, collapsing on his chains.

ii2.

. , 113.

He looks out across the’ fields toward the hilltep where he and Clark ran the smart bomb op.

Ryan’s scoping out the house THROUGH BINOCULARS.

Ryan SHIFTS FOCUS -- FIRST ON the prisoners -- then a SLOW PAN to the gate.

Ryan lowers the glasses, turns to Clark, who’s making notes on a diagram of the house and grounds.

Clark looks up, smiles.

He runs a finger along the diagram, tracing a path into the hacienda from the rear.

He makes a note; Ryan taps the map.

“ ; 4114.

Clark studies hin. '

He folds up the diagram, takes the glasses from Ryan, studies the layout, then FOCUSES on Chavez.

. CLARK Hang tough, kid.

That same Caribe Airlines cargo jet is back on the tarmac, now off-loading the communications van. Clark and Ryan are clocking the procedure. The van rolls off the ramp, one of the Techs FIRES it up, swings around and up to Clark. The Second Tech rolls down the passenger window.

. TECH Yes, Gir.

The van pulls off, heading for Clark’s hangar.

He walks off; Ryan watches after hin. =

A squad of Cortez’s people =re moving through the bush, hunting the ninjas.

The Captain and his guys are hugging the ground. The Trooper with the radio is lying on his side next to the officer.

\~ -

Suddenly, a VOICE CRACKLES through the RADIO.

VOICE (OVER) KNIFE, this is VARI--

The Captain grabs the Trooper, rolls him over on his belly, MUFFLING the SOUND... but one of Cortez’s guys heard it.

He stops, dead still, listens -- turns around, pokes his AK=-47 at a shadow, turns back, listens, walks on.

The Trooper sits up, dials down the volume, whispers into the radio.

; TROOPER VARIABLE, this is KNIFE. Come in, please, over.

Ryan and Clark are at a table, going over the diagran. Ryan points at a meadow leading down from the ridge.

, . RYAN If they did their job right, that field should be mined.

Clark looks up.

The Tech shouts 0.S.

Ryan and Clark cross to the van, step up next to the. panel; the Tech FLIPS to SPEAKER.

Cortez, Escobedo, and Diaz are in the courtyard. The flecdlights are on, illuminating Chavez and the guys.

Diaz is pacing and ranting, as usual.

" CORTEZ

That’s a powerful warning, senor. — But, if you kill them, you end up with three dead soldiers.

4 DIAZ Si.es?

Escobedo turns to Cortez.

assure you, their CIA will be desperate to get them back.

He walks off; Cortez and Diaz share a look.

A pair of (long range) Cobra gunships lift off the flight § «.

deck, bank up and away. A shard of lightning CRACKS across the sky, silhouetting the war birds.

TIME CUT - EXT. A JUNGLE COASTLINE The choppers SNARL THROUGH FRAME, heading in-country.

- 117.

The PILOT FLICKS ON the RADIO

The communications van is in the foreground, flanked by two Ford Broncos. Ryan’s at the tailgate of one of the trucks, passing out ammo to the Captain and his six ninjas.

Clark’s next to the van, on a radio. We SEE there’s a high chain-link fence halfway down the hill from their position.

ne PILOT VARIABLE, we are four minutes fron target, over.

The Pilot dials in a computer screen: The diagram of Escobedo’s house appears, overlaid with a map grid.

He looks to his copy of the diagram; Ryan walks up next to hin.

“ s . 118.

“CLARK Right... (into radio) SNAKE, the meadow running down to the house -= square nine -- cut me a path through there, please, over.

CLARK

That‘1l1 do it, SNAKE. But, don’t run off =~ we may need you coming out, over. .

Clark turns off the radio, checks his watch, looks around the area, back to Ryan.

- CLARK This place safe enough for you?

Ryan shifts his weight, doesn’t answer.

They share a long look; Clark grins.

He turns, calls out to the ninjas.

The Captain and hie Troopers follow Clark to the edge of the field; the ninjas fan out along the line.

The Cobras dive INTO FRAME, skimming the treetops. Up ahead, we can SEE the glow from Escobedo’s house.

We HOLD a moment -=- then the gunships ROAR IN overhead, racing down the meadow, twenty feet off the deck, MINI-GUNS BLAZING =- cutting a path through the field -~ EXPLODING the mines.

~ 129.

FLASH COT = ESCOBEDO’S DINING ROOM

Cortez, Diaz, and the Patron are entertaining a quintet of Latin lovelies. The revelry is interrupted by the GUNFIRE. The senoritas scream; Cortez leaps to his feet. .

He whips out a pistol, heads for the door. Escobedo and Diaz hurry after hin.

CLARK and the ninjas spring up and start running down the meadow, following the path cut by the mini-guns.

The Cobras close on the chain-link fence -- their CANNONS BELCH -- a twenty-foot-wide section of the wire disappears.

Ryan’s spotting the action with night goggles.

A squad of Cortez’s soldiers appear beyond the fence. A FIRE FIGHT ensues -- Cortez’s guys take some hits -- fall

back.

Clark stands up, starts charging through the shattered wire

Ryan sees him take the hit.

The Captain also SAW Clark go down; he starts towards him <= then (he) gets whacked -- pitches forward into the

dirt.

Ryan lowers the goggles -- takes a beat -~- then sprints x. down the hill and dives in next to Clark.

He inspects Clark’s wound, frowns.

“ 7 120.

Re twists around, grabs his machine pistol, starts to rise, collapses in pain.

Ryan looks up, spote the Captain lying twenty feet away.

He gets up into a crouch -- zigzags across the field -- falls in next to the Captain: He’s dead.

Ryan shut his eyes, snaps them open, grabs up the Captain’s AR-15, tugs an ammo belt off the dead man’s shoulder -=- stares at the officer for a second <= then drops into the crouch and races back to Clark.

Ryan shakes his head.

The (late} Captain’s radio Trooper is behind a rock, BANGING away with his rifle; Ryan calls to hin.

The ninja ducks out from behind the rock, scurries over to Ryan and Clark.

He tugs the radio off, passes it to Clark. Ryan looks to the hacienda, turns to Clark.

* 121.

RYAN , Call the Cobras back in -= tell them to keep everyone past the courtyard

busy. CLARK

Gotcha! Ryan picks up the Captain’s rifle, jams in a new clip of ammo, turns to the ninja.

. RYAN

Ready?

CLARK

Wait. a¢

He reaches into a pocket, pulls out a pair of heavy-duty cutters, hands them to Ryan.

A HAIL of SLUGS RAIN IN. Everybody ducks, then it’s heads back up. - - RYAN If we get that far. (at the ninja) Let’s go, Trooper!

They hurry off through the torn wire. Clark snaps on the radio. -

Nothing; he whacks the radio against a rock, tries again.

Meanwhile, back at the hacienda, the other five ninjas have Managed to fight their way into the rear garden and are now only twenty yards from the courtyard (and the prisoners).

Then the gunships dive INTO FRAME, their mini-guns SPRAYING the house and grounds (beyond the courtyard).

< - 122.

Cortez, Escobedo, and Diaz are on a terrace, pinned down by the Cobras’ FIRE. A line of BULLETS RICOCHET off the terrace railing.

He inches up over the railing, TRIGGERS a ROUND from his Beretta... and then a SLUG NAILS his forehead, dead center. Escobedo’s head snaps back against Diaz’s chest; he cradles the dying man in his arms.

Too late; Diaz turns, glares at Cortez. DIAZ

You did this! You and your "plans" =~ your hostages.

You are through! Finished! They stare at each other.

Cortez takes a beat, smiles.

Ris pistol comes up, he FIRES TWICE, Diaz staggers back, G@rops away, dead.

Cortez turns, checks out the fire fight -- decides it’s time to go -- heads back into the house.

an and the Trooper battle their way up to the other ninjas. Ryan surveys the action, gestures at three of the ninjas.

- 7 123.

He turns, starts for the courtyard with the four troopers right behind hin.

Six guys with AK-47’s are guarding the prisoners, three at each -end of the court. Ryan and his troops come up behind one trio -- the ninjas take the goons down -=- the other three guards begin FIRING across the court.

The (radio) Trooper pops all three; BING, BANG, BOOM!

Ryan and the ninjas rush up to Chavez and the others. Ryan pulls out the chain cutters, SNAPS Chavez’s bonds; the kid

stares at hin.

. CHAVEZ Where's Clark?

mo RYAN He's up on the hill.

Chavez picks up on one of the dead gquard’s AK-47's. Another goon appears behind Ryan -- about to whack hin Chavez swings up the rifle -- DROPS the guard, .

Ryan and Chavez exchange a look.

He spins back to the badly-wounded prisoner, cuts his chains. The guy slumps against Ryan; he calls to two of the troopers.

The ninjas hurry over, each grabs an arm, start dragging the guy out of the courtyard.

Ryan cuts the last prisoner free. The ninja’s got a leg wound, so he leans against Ryan and they hustle out of the courtyard and start up the meadow. “

The two "cover" ninjas come out of the garden, backwards, PUMPING SLUGS and tossing smoke GRENADES at the remains of Cortez’s "army."

When they catch up with Ryan, one of them relieves him of ‘the wounded prisoner, while the other ninja picks up his Captain’s body, hefts it over his shoulder, and starts trudging up the field.

ro

<=

Clark’s SEEN it all (THROUGH HIS NIGHT GOGGLES); he lowers the glasses, smiles (as best he can).

Chavez runs up, drops in next to Clark. They share a leok.

Chavez spots Clark’s wound, digs out his aid kit, starts dusting the gunshot wound with antiseptic powder.

Ryan dives in next to then.

‘Has to be closed, fast!

Chavez wraps a bandage pack over Clark’s thigh, ties it tight. Clark looks to Ryan -= to Chavez -~ back to Ryan.

They pull Clark to his feet and start up the hill. GO TO BLACK

FADE UP

Ryan’s standing at a hallway window, looking out over Rock Creek. Greer’s next to hin in the wheelchair.

A NURSE looks away from a phone. =.

Ryan sceps »ehind the chair, begins wheeling the Admiral up a corridor.

“ , 125.

Clark’s in the bed -- his eyes flutter open -- the first thing he SEES is Greer’s thousand-watt enile.

Lo, Admiral. Clark glances out the window, back at Ryan.

A 30ish NURSE sticks her pretty face through the door. She and Clark have a little eye contact; she sniles.

She closes the door. Clark looks to Greer, grins.

They share a moment.

(kidding) Well, you could always indict Ritter for murder.

His eyes hit Ryan’s; Ryan nods.

his play. They “hold the look. RYAN Cutter. GREER

He’d be my first choice.

We’re FRAMED on Cutter’s townhouse.

Cutter is sitting behind a desk, staring PAST CAMERA.

REVERSE =- CORTEZ He’s standing across the desk.

CUTTER , Not good enough! Ke wants it stopped.

He couldn’t be that naive. We all know it will never stop. If your citizens wish to destroy their brains -- someone will always make it possible. But, at least now, I can regulate the trade -~ minimize the dislocation of your cities -- your society. The business is disorderly, violent. I can restructure it.

Cortez lifts an eyebrow.

” . CORTEZ We agreed that I would become a de facto member of your organization.

Cutter gets up, walks around the desk, shaking his head.

Cortez’s eyes sharpen.

A DOORBELL CHIMES ©.S.: Cutter and Cortez share a look.

12s.

Cutter exits, shuts the door behind him, crosses an entry hall and opens the front door.

It’s Ryan, scowling; Cutter blinks.

Ryan steps in, Cutter closes the door, smiles cheerfully.

He starts into a parlor.

Cutter stops, turns back.

. RYAN I just came out of Colombia.

Ryan’s hand flashes out, grabs Cutter by the shirtfront.

Ryan tightens his grip.

RYAN e. You ordered it, didn’t you?

oo . ~ And, then Ryan realizes "who" did ~~ and Cutter realizes . (he’s) figured it out. CUTTER Are you prepared to blow the whistle on Him? RYAN If I have to. The library door cracks open, Cortez peers out, cocks an ear. CUTTER I applaud your integrity, Doctor, but going public with this incident could have major consequences. RYAN Yeah, like you ending up in prison. . CUTTER Far beyond that, I’m afraid. It would cause a great deal of turmoil... His eyes hit Cortez‘s. CUTTER (CONT’D) Upset a number of delicate balances. RYAN You should have thought about that before, Cutter. Cortez steps through the door, reaches into his coat, slips out a pistol. cCutter’s eyes flare at the gun; Ryan senses his alarm, spins around, stares at Cortez <= recognizes hin -- puts it tegether; turns back to Cutter. RYAN You two...? Our National Security Advisor’s in bed with a drug dealer? CUTTER I can explain... RYAN Don’t bother. Cortez thumbs back the gun’s hammer; Ryan reacts to the CLICK, grabs a coat rack standing next to him, hurls it at cms Cortez -- who ducks <~ FIRES, misses. Ryan rushes the wo Colonel, they crash to the floor, Cortez drops the gun, it skitters across the carpet.

The fight is brief -- a couple of blows apiece -- then

Cortez breaks free, crawls to the gun, snatches up the

pistol. Ryan dives in on hin, they struggle -- the GUN goes e

-

* ; 130.

An anxious beat... Cortez falls back, dead. Ryan gets up, turns to Cutter, they stare at each other.

CUTTER

It’s none of your business.

CUTTER

With what? You have no proof -- you gave the file back to Ritter.

ne CUTTER You gave him your word, Ryan.

Ryan’s eyes get icy.

He brushes past him and out the front door. Cutter looks back to Cortez, shuts his eyes.

Establish. a.

The President and Judge Moore are sitting by the fire, talking.

The door opens, a WOMAN steps in.

The Pres turns to her.

The President and the Judge exchange a look. PRESIDENT He's not on the calendar, is he? . WOMAN No Sir, he isn't -- but he insists on seeing you.

The Pres takes a beat, nods.

She steps out, the President looks back to Moore.

mo PRESIDENT What you suppose he’s after? MOORE

I have no idea. But, I think I’11 get out of here and let you find out.

He crosses the room, exits by another door. The President steps to his desk, BUZZES the INTERCOM.

The Pres sits down behind his desk. The door opens, Ryan enters, steps to the desk, the President waves at a chair.

What’s on your mind, Doctor?

PRESIDENT

You know why? The citizens of the United States want us to stop the -flow of drugs. And, besides, what we did down there is chicken feed compared to what their garbage does to us -- our kids.

He grinte, shakes his heed,

7 RYAN I’m afraid you’ve got that backwards, sir. It’s not their fault -- it’s ours. They only grow the drug, we’re the ones who use it -= crave it -- kill for it. The sovrce isn’t the problen...

(points 0.8.) .

The problem’s out there in the street.

The Pres shifts his weight, agitated.

Ryan squares his shoulders.

. . PRESIDENT You really think them yahoos up there would've went along with it?

you could be, you gotta know

somepin’: Congress is one big swamp. You fall in there, you never climb out. You want to get things done in this town, sometimes you can’t cross all the T’s == dot all the I’s. So what?

PRESIDENT : Whoa! Hold the phone... you’re reporting me, Ryan?

You can‘t talk to me that way! .

The President rears up out of his chair.

‘ ° 134.

There’s a picture window behind the President. We can SEE the Washington Memorial -- the Lincoln Memorial -- the Jefferson Memorial -- the Capitol beyond.

Ryan looks out at the icons of our liberty, waves a hand across the panorana.

He turns, starts for the door.

° PRESIDENT Ryan... Ryan stops, turns back, the Pres smiles. PRESIDENT

Come on... I know you’re not going through with this.

(winks)

That’s the jig for us.

Ryan stares at him a moment, shakes his head.

He turns, walks out; the Pres frowns.

A light rain is falling. Ryan comes through a pedestrian security gate, walks down to Pennsylvania Avenue, pauses, looks back out at Jefferson and Lincoln and Washington, takes a moment, then nods, as if satisfied that he’s spoken for them... and for ug.

Ryan turns, pulls up his coat collar, walks off into the rain.