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Air Force One (1997)

by Andrew Marlow.

More info about this movie on IMDb.com


FOR EDUCATIONAL PURPOSES ONLY


FADE IN:

INT. C-130 HERCULES TURBO-PROP - NIGHT

Eighteen combat-ready special forces, wearing assault black,
jump packs and combat gear, stare down the deep end of a
greasy ramp into the night sky.  Village lights flicker 19,000
feet below.

The STRIKE FORCE LEADER signals to his team.

Without a moment's hesitation, they dive into the darkness
and plummet toward earth.

EXT. MANSION - NIGHT

A military GUARD, old Soviet-style uniform, rounds the corner
of the large estate toting an AK-47.

A red laser dot appears briefly on his forehead and, after a
beat, the red dot seems to bleed.  The Guard collapses dead.
Two other GUARDS are dispatched with single, silenced shots.

A Strike Team member at a junction box awaits a signal.

Through infra-red binoculars the strike Force Leader watches
his assault troops as they take positions.

		STRIKE FORCE LEADER
		(into headset/in
		Russian)
	GO!

On the estate - as the power goes out.  The team on the
mansion's front porch pops the door and pours in.

INT. MANSION - NIGHT

FOLLOWING - the FIVE TEAM MEMBERS as they rush a stairway in
phalanx formation.  They nearly knock over an old lady, who
in turn lets out a blood curdling scream.

UPSTAIRS CORRIDOR -

The team kicks open a door.  Rushes into the room.

INT. BEDROOM -

Assault weapons pointed at the bed.  The soldiers yank back
bedsheets to reveal IVAN STRAVANAVITCH, a middle-aged man
and his half-naked 18-year-old concubine.

		SOLDIER
		(in Russian)
	Get up, now!  Up!

The soldiers pull Stravanavitch to his feet and haul him out
of the room.

FOLLOWING -  As they push down the hallway.

MANSION SECURITY GUARDS rally with haphazard gunfire.

Out come the strike force's flash-bang grenades.  Exploding
everywhere, disorienting Stravanavitch's men.

EXT. FIELD - NIGHT

Signal flares burn as a helicopter descends on the position.
The Strike Team evacuates across the field and forces a
struggling Stravanavitch into the low-hovering copter.

The commandos swiftly board the craft as a handful of
Stravanavitch's guards break into the clearing.  They open
fire.

And the mounted machine guns on the helicopter return.

One of the Strike Team members takes a bullet to the neck.
He's' pulled by his comrades into the chopper as it lifts
into the sky, its guns spitting lead...

STRIKE FORCE LEADER (V.0.)

Archangel, this is Restitution.

Archangel, this is Restitution.  The package is wrapped.
Over.

		VOICE (V.0. RADIO)
	Roger, Restitution.  We are standing
	by for delivery.

		FADE TO BLACK
	The SOUNDS of a dinner banquet.
	Forks clanking against plates and
	the din of a hundred conversations,
	broken by...

The DING, DING, DING of a SPOON tapping against a wine glass.

SUPER TITLE:   "MOSCOW - THREE WEEKS LATER

FADE IN:

INT. BANQUET ROOM - NIGHT

Hundreds of men and women in formal evening wear sit at round
banquet tables.  A HUSH falls over the guests as the DINGING
continues.  All attention turns to the front table.

A rotund, silver haired-man in his late sixties rises and
sidles past U.S. and Russian flags up to the podium
microphone.  He is STOLI PETROV, President of Russia.

		PETROV
		(in Russian)
	Thank you for joining us this evening.

Petrov's harsh Russian issues through the room.  But over it
we hear a young woman's voice translating.

		TRANSLATOR (V.0.)
	Tonight we are honored to have with
	us a man of remarkable courage, who,
	despite strong international
	criticism...

AT THE FRONT TABLE -

A translator's words ring in the earpiece of a handsome man
in his mid-forties.  Worry lines crease his forehead and the
touch of gray at his temples attest to three very difficult
years in office.

This man is JAMES MARSHALL, and he is the PRESIDENT of the
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.  He busily makes last minute changes
to his speech.

		TRANSLATOR
		(V.0. earpiece)
	Has chosen to join our fight against
	tyranny in forging a new world
	community.  Ladies and gentlemen, I
	give you the President of the United
	States of America...

Mr. President.

Thunderous applause as Marshall rises and approaches the
podium.

At the back of the room, DOHERTY, a senior policy adviser
whispers to the President's Chief of Staff ED SHEPHERD...

		DOHERTY
	Maybe we should consider running him
	for re-election instead of the U.S.

The applause dies as Marshall begins to speak.

		MARSHALL
		(in Russian with
		subtitles)
	Good evening and thank you.  First I
	would ask you to join me in a moment
	of silence for the victims of the
	Turkmenistan massacres.

The room remains silent a few beats.  Most guests respectfully
bow their heads.

Marshall begins again, but this time in English.  The young
woman translates simultaneously for the Russian audience.

		MARSHALL
	As you know, three weeks ago American
	Special Forces, in cooperation with
	the Russian Republican Army, secured
	the arrest of Turkmenistan's self-
	proclaimed dictator, General Ivan
	Stravanavitch, whose brutal sadistic
	reign had given new meaning to the
	word horror.  I am proud to say our
	operation was a success.

Applause from the audience.  Marshall turns the page on his
speech.

		MARSHALL
	And now, yesterday's biggest threat
	to world peace... today awaits trial
	for crimes against humanity.

During the applause, Marshall pulls a page from the speech,
folds it and slides it into his pocket.  He removes his
glasses and looks out into the crowd.  His tone becomes more
personal.

He's not reciting the speech anymore.

		MARSHALL
	What we did here was important.  We
	finally pulled our heads out of the
	sand, we finally stood up to the
	brutality and said "We've had enough.
	Every time we ignore these atrocities--
	the rapes, the death squads, the
	genocides- every time we negotiate
	with these, these thugs to keep them
	out of gig country and away from gig
	families, every time we do thiS.E.
	we legitimize terror.

Terror is not a legitimate system of government.  And to
those who commit the atrocities I say, we will no longer
tolerate, we will no longer negotiate, and we will no longer
be afraid.  It's your turn to be afraid.

Applause rolls through the crowd.

EXT. MOSCOW INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT - NIGHT

Sprawling terminals spread out to runways like tentacles.

ON THE TARMAC -

Bathed in floodlights, perched majestically on the runway,
dwarfing nearby commuter and military jets, stands...

		AIR FORCE ONE
	The President's own Boeing 747-200,
	dubbed "the flying White House".
	The distinctive royal blue stripe
	over a thin gold line tapers to a
	tail adorned with the American flag
	and the Presidential Seal Secret
	Service agents and Marines stand
	guard at the aircraft's perimeter.

A RUSSIAN NEWS VAN emerges from the darkness and pulls to a
stop by a Secret Service barricade.

SPECIAL AGENT GIBBS greets the Russian news team that emerges.

		GIBBS
	Gentlemen, welcome to Air Force One.

Please present your equipment to Special Agent Walters for
inspection.

The news team's segment producer, a crusty old Russian named
KORSHUNOV raises his big bushy eyebrows.

		KORSHUNOV
	We've already been inspected.

		GIBBS
	Sir, this plane carries the President
	of the United States.

Though we wish to extend your press service every courtesy,
you will comply with our security measures to the letter.

		KORSHUNOV
	Of course.  I'm sorry.

Korshunov and the FIVE MEMBERS of his news crew present their
video cameras, sound equipment and supplies to Special Agent
WALTERS for inspection.  Secret Service DOGS sniff through
the baggage.

		GIBBS
	Please place your thumbs on the ID
	pad.

Korshunov puts his thumb on the ID pad of a portable computer.

The computer matches up his thumbprint with his dossier and
photograph.  "CLEARED" flashes on the computer screen.

INT. HALLWAY - NIGHT

The President, walking with his entourage.

		SHEPHERD
	*		CBS said they'll
	give us four minutes.  They thought
	the Russian was a nice touch.

		MARSHALL
	I always wondered if my freshman
	Russian class would come in handy.

		DOHERTY
	Sir, you threw out page two.

		MARSHALL
	Goddamn right I did.  I asked for a
	tough-as-nails speech and you gave
	me diplomatic bullshit.  What's the
	point in having a speech if I have
	to ad-lib?

		DOHERTY
	It was a good ad-lib, sir.

		MARSHALL
	Thanks.  Wrote it last night.

The President exits the building and enters his limousine.

EXT. TARMAC - AIR FORCE ONE - NIGHT

Walters hands the bags back to the Russians.

		WALTERS
	Equipment checks out.

A striking woman in her early thirties descends Air Force
One's stairway.  MARIA MITCHELL.

		GIBBS
	Gentlemen, this is Maria Mitchell.

Press Relations for the Presidential Flight Office.  She'll
take you from here.

		KORSHUNOV
	Ms.  Mitchell.  So nice to finally
	meet you in person.

		MITCHELL
	The President and I were delighted
	that we could accommodate you.  Now
	if you're all cleared?
		(Gibbs nods)
	You can follow me then.

They ascend into the belly of Air Force One.

		MITCHELL
	*		      I'll be giving
	you a brief tour, then during the
	flight, two members of your crew
	will be allowed out of the press
	area at a time for filming.  You
	will have exactly ten minutes with
	the President and twenty with the
	crew...

EXT. STREETS OF MOSCOW, PRESIDENT'S MOTORCADE - NIGHT

Winding its way down narrow cobblestone streets onto a major
thoroughfare.

INT. PRESIDENTIAL LIMOUSINE - NIGHT

The limousine is packed with advisers, aides, military staff,
including LT. COL. PERKINS, the keeper of the NUCLEAR FOOTBALL
handcuffed to his wrist.  In the b.g. on the limo's television
set, the LARRY KING SHOW indulges in its normal banter.

Marshall wearily rubs his temples as he stifles a yawn.

		SHEPHERD
	You wanna knock of f?

		MARSHALL
	No, no.  I'm fine.  What did the
	Speaker say?

		SHEPHERD
	He and the NRA don't like the wording.

		DOHERTY
	Apparently taking uzis away from
	sixth graders isn't as popular as we
	thought it'd be.  Representative
	Taylor is working on a compromise.

		MARSHALL
	Put together a score sheet.  I'll
	make some calls.

		SHEPHERD
	With all due respect, sir, maybe you
	should give them this one.  Your
	numbers are still pretty low and you
	called in a lot of chips to nail
	Stravanavitch.

		MARSHALL
	I might still have a few chips left.

		SHEPHERD
	*		We could always
	put you in a duck blind with a twelve
	gauge.  The second amendment types'll
	love that.

		MARSHALL
	This is a crime bill, Shep.  Killing
	a couple ducks won't get it through
	committee.  Besides, Shep, I told
	you...  I don't shoot babies and I
	don't kiss guns.

		SHEPHERD
	Other way around, sir.

		MARSHALL
		(realizing what he
		said)
	Right... Christ I'm tired.  Do me a
	favor and keep me away from the press.

Marshall's watch alarm beeps and he automatically reaches
into his breast pocket, pulls out a medicine vial and downs
two pills with a coffee chaser.

On the T.V.

		LARRY KING (T.V.)
	... and your reaction to the
	President's trip to Moscow.  Good or
	bad?

Shepherd turns up the volume.

		SHEPHERD
	This is the part I wanted you to
	see.

		REP. DANFORTH (T.V.)
	Criminal.  One of our boys died in
	Marshall's little publicity stunt
	and for what?  So we could claim
	victory over another country's
	problems instead of our own?  And
	now he's got the nerve to prance
	around Moscow gloating, while that
	poor boy's family is left to bury
	him.  If I were Marshall, I'd be
	ashamed of myself.

		LARRY KING
	There you have it.  Harsh words for
	the President from Michael Danforth,
	the Speaker of the House.

Marshall mutes the television.  A quiet moment.

		SHEPHERD
	*		My opinion.
	We can't let him get away with that
	kind of language.

Marshall considers.  Then decides.

		MARSHALL
	It's bait.  Don't take it.

		SHEPHERD
	Sir, the Speaker of the House attacked
	this administration on national
	television.  You can't afford to
	leave that hanging.

		MARSHALL
		(ignoring Shepherd)
	Did we tape the Duke game?

		AIDE
	It's waiting on the plane.  The ending
	was pretty...

		MARSHALL
		(interrupting)
	Please don't tell me.  Just for once,
	*		let me be
	surprised.

INT. AIR FORCE ONE, CORRIDOR, TRAVELING - NIGHT

Maria Mitchell escorts the Russians down the plane's length.
As they pass the galley, Maria motions up a set of stairs.

		MITCHELL
	Up on the upper deck is the cockpit
	and the Mission Communication Center.
	The MCC, as we call it, can place
	clear and secure phone calls to
	anywhere on earth.  We're linked to
	a network of military and civilian
	satellites and ground stations.  We
	could run the country or run a war
	from there if we had to.

		KORSHUNOV
	This is a remarkable aircraft.

		MITCHELL
	You don't know the half of it.  Did
	you know this entire plane is shielded
	from radiation?  We could fly through
	a mushroom cloud completely unharmed
	if necessary.

		KORSHUNOV
	A dubious distinction, no?

		MITCHELL
	I guess it depends on your
	perspective.

They walk by several conference rooms, running down the
starboard side of the plane.

		KORSHUNOV
	And all these rooms here?

		MITCHELL
	Conference rooms, though some have
	other functions.  The one up front
	doubles as an emergency medical
	center.

Past the conference rooms, they walk by a small side room
where SECRETARIES work on computers, generating documents.

		MITCHELL
	As you can see, back here's more
	like a regular plane.  Security and
	Secret Service take this cabin.
	You'll be in the rear with the press
	pool.

The REAR PRESS CABIN, just ahead of the rear galley and bank
of bathrooms.  A handful of disgruntled reporters feign sleep.

		MITCHELL
	Here's a press kit.  I'll let you
	guys get comfortable and once we're
	airborne I'll be able to schedule
	the interviews.

		KORSHUNOV
	Thank you.

Mitchell exits forward.  One of the reporters stirs and looks
up at the news team.  He groans.  Space is a premium back
here.

		REPORTER
	You fellas win some sort of fly-with-
	POTUS contest?

		KORSHUNOV
	Potus?  What is Potus?

		REPORTER
	P.O.T.U.S. President Of The United
	States.

		KORSHUNOV
	Ah, no.  We won nothing.  We are
	ITAR-TASS news service.

		REPORTER
	Right.  Listen, this here... This is
	my row.  You'll have to sit over
	there.

Korshunov trades looks with his news team.

EXT. MOSCOW INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT - NIGHT

The President's motorcade pulls up in front of Air Force
One.

INT. AIR FORCE ONE - NIGHT

The President and his entourage ascend from the lower deck
platform onto the main deck.  COL. DANIEL AXELROD, Air Force
One's pilot, snaps off a salute as he passes.

		COL. AXELROD
	Welcome aboard, Mr. President.

		MARSHALL
		(returns salute)
	Hey Danny.  How's it look tonight?

		COL. AXELROD
	Glassy, sir.  Care to take the wheel?

		MARSHALL
	You keep offering, one of these days
	I'll take you up on it.
		(to no one in
		particular)
	Rose and Alice back yet?

		AIDE
	No, Mr. President.  The ballet ran
	late.  Their ETA is seventeen minutes.

Marshall nods as he pulls off his bow tie and enters his
stateroom.  Shepherd follows two steps behind.

		SHEPHERD
	Mr. President?

Marshall halts Shepherd with a gesture.

		MARSHALL
	Thirty seconds.

Shepherd nods and waits by the door.  Lt. Col. Perkins takes
a seat outside the Presidents stateroom and opens the latest
Tom Clancy thriller, using the nuclear football as a lap
desk.

INT. PRESIDENT'S STATEROOM - NIGHT

Marshall collapses on the couch, rubs his eyes, then closes
them.  A moment of peace in a breakneck day.

The knock at the door jars him.

		MARSHALL
	Yes.

Shepherd enters.

		SHEPHERD
	Can I at least issue a press release
	objecting to the Speaker's choice of
	wording?

President Marshall picks up one of the many phones in his
office.

		MARSHALL
	I said it's not worth the fight.
		(into phone)
	Steward, please.

		SHEPHERD
	We'll just say it was in bad taste.

*			 MARSHALL

Forget it, Shep.  The kid gave his life for his country and
the

Speaker's a bastard for turning him into a sound bite.  I'll
take the heat.  Understood?

		SHEPHERD
	You give me ulcers.

		MARSHALL
	That's my job.

A STEWARD enters the room.

		STEWARD
	Mr. President?

		MARSHALL
	Hey Mike.  Could you get me a
	Heineken?

		SHEPHERD
	No, wait.  Get him one of the Russian
	beers.

The steward nods and disappears from the room.

		SHEPHERD
	We've got those Russian news guys on
	board and it'll look good in the
	papers.

Marshall picks up a stack of policy reports.  Thumbs through
them.

		MARSHALL
	C'mon Shep.  I've been eating borscht
	and drinking vodka for days.  Isn't
	that enough?
		(off paper)
	New home starts are down.

The steward arrives with the Russian beer.  Marshall takes a
swig.  He swallows hard.  Piss-water.  Marshall crosses to
his sink and pours the beer out.  He hands the bottle to the
steward.

		MARSHALL
	Fill this with Heineken.

The steward nods...

		STEWARD
	Yes, Mr. President.

AND SLINKS AWAY WITH THE BOTTLE. MARSHALL CATCHES HIMSELF --

		MARSHALL
	I don't believe this.  I'm playing
	politics with a bottle of beer.  A
	goddamn bottle of beer.  I've been
	in office too long.

		SHEPHERD
	Look on the bright side... if the
	polls don't change, you won't have
	that problem, sir.

Marshall picks up the phone again.

		MARSHALL
	Yeah.  Put the Duke game on in my
	room.

INT. AFO'S MISSION COMMUNICATION CENTER - NIGHT

THREE Air Force SPECIALISTS man the elaborate communication
system occupying much of the upper deck.  Top-of-the-line
computers, communication systems, video decks, and satellite
receivers.

		AIR FORCE SPECIALIST
	Yes, Mr. President.

He slides in a videotape and channels the feed to the *
president's stateroom.

INT. PRESIDENT'S STATEROOM - NIGHT

A monitor comes to life with a basketball game.

		MARSHALL
		(to Shepherd)
	Defense and State Department in the
	conference room in one hour.  I want
	to review the Iraq situation.

		SHEPHERD
	Yes, sir.

Shepherd exits as Marshall settles into his leather chair
and dives into work.  He punches a button on the speakerphone.

		MARSHALL
	Get me the Housing Secretary...

EXT. AIR FORCE ONE - NIGHT

The Marine Guards snap to attention once again as the First
Lady's motorcade arrives.

ROSE MARSHALL, a self-assured woman with an aristocratic
gleam, alights from her limo.  She takes a few steps, then
turns, tapping her foot impatiently.

		ROSE
	C'mon Alice, we're 20 minutes late.

Your father's gonna have a fit.

ALICE, the President's 13-year-old daughter, straggles out
of the car, rolling her eyes.

		ALICE
	It's not like he hasn't made us wait
	a few times.

		ROSE
	Well, you aren't the President, dear.

		ALICE
	Yeah, no duh.

INT. MAIN DECK, AIR FORCE ONE - NIGHT

As the First Lady's entourage enters.

		ROSE
	Why don't you go say hi?

Again, Alice rolls her eyes.

		ROSE
	What is wrong with you tonight?
	Come here.

Rose pulls Alice aside.

		ROSE
	You don't want to say hi to your
	father?

		ALICE
	I'm sure he's busy.

		ROSE
	Don't you even want to ask?

Alice toes her foot into the carpet as she releases an
exasperated sigh.  She is, in this moment, the patron saint
of know-it-all 13-year-old girls.  Alice waves toward the
Presidential Suite.

		ALICE
	If I go over there to say hi to daddy
	President, Mike's going to tell me
	he's in a meeting and can't be
	disturbed.  Then when the plane starts
	to taxi, he'll come out and say "Hey,
	are you guys back?  Did you enjoy
	the ballet?"  But he'll be on his
	way to another meeting and won't
	wait for an answer.  Then you'll get
	pissed at him and he'll get pissed
	at you.  It's like you guys rehearse
	or something.

With the weight of the entire world on her shoulders, Alice

Collapses into one of the many leather chairs.  It seems to
swallow her.  JORY, a steward passes.

		ALICE
	Hey Joey, how `bout a cocoa, double
	whip cream.

		ROSE
	Alice...

		ALICE
	Mom, just this once, give it a rest.

		ROSE
	You're jet-lagged.  We'll talk about
	this back...

		ALICE
	Back at The Fishbowl?

Alice eyes the swirl of Aides who are pretending to work
nearby.

But it's obvious that they're eavesdropping.  Alice smiles
and waves at them dramatically.

		ROSE
	We'll talk at home.
		(beat)
	You know, most girls aren't as lucky
	as you.  For most girls seeing the
	Bolshoi ballet would be the experience
	of a lifetime.

		ALICE
	I know, Mom.
		(sees the hurt in her
		mom's eyes and softens)
	It was great... really.

Rose nods, smiling a half-smile.  After a thoughtful beat,
Alice gets up and crosses to the Presidential suite.  She
exchanges words with the Aide standing outside the door and
comes back, covering her disappointment.

		ALICE
	He's in a meeting.  He can't be
	disturbed.

		ROSE
	I'm sorry, honey.

		ALICE
	No, it's okay.  After all, he is the
	President, right?

Joey the steward hands her her cocoa with a wink and a smile.

Her eyes light up at the mound of whip cream on top.

		ALICE
	When I write my memoirs I think I'll
	devote an entire chapter to the cocoa
	aboard Air Force One.

		ROSE
	Your father never means to be so...

		ALICE
	I know...
		(beat)
	But lotsa times I feel like it's me
	versus the world.  Some kid at school
	teases me and the same day a plague
	breaks out in Bangladesh.  I mean it
	doesn't take a genius to figure which
	is more important.

		ROSE
	Some kids were teasing you?

		ALICE
	That's not really the point.

A quiet pause, then...

		ROSE
	You're right and I'll tell you a
	secret.  I know exactly how you feel.

		ALICE
	Big secret.  You said the same thing
	to Newsweek.

The plane jolts forward as it begins to taxi.

		ALICE
	We're taxiing.  Ready.  And... five...
	four... three.. two... one... Cue
	Daddy.

Alice points.  And as if on cue, Marshall exits from his
office and checks his watch.

		ALICE
	Oooooh, I'm good.

		MARSHALL
	Hey, you guys back already?

Alice nods.

		MARSHALL
	How was...
		(thinks, then remembers)
	...the ballet?

		ALICE
		(theatrically)
	It was the experience of a lifetime.

		MARSHALL
	How `bout a hug for the old man.

Alice rises and hugs her father.  A White House PHOTOGRAPHER
snaps off a few shots for the papers.  Alice makes a face at
them.  A second later, Shepherd comes up the corridor,
breaking up the pair.

		SHEPHERD
	Mr. President... they're ready for
	you in the conference room.

		MARSHALL
	Okay.  Hey, pumpkin, you'll tell me
	all about it later, right?

		ALICE
	Sure.

As Marshall moves toward the conference room, he bends and
gives Rose a quick peck on the cheek.  It all reeks of
formality.

		ROSE
	May I speak to you for a moment?

		MARSHALL
	Can't it wait?

		ROSE
	No, Mr. President.  It can't.

INT.  PRESIDENT'S OFFICE.

Rose shuts the door behind them.  As she starts to speak,
Marshall pulls her into a long passionate kiss.  Rose pulls
away.

		ROSE
	Don't.  I know spin control when I
	feel it.

		MARSHALL
	Rose, I don't have time for this.

I've gotta go stop a war.

		ROSE
	For godsakes, Jim, slow down and
	stop acting like the little dutch
	boy.  Not even you can plug all the
	world's leaks.  Don't you think it's
	a sign you're pushing too hard when
	your daughter sees more of you on
	MTV news than in person.

		MARSHALL
	She's a big girl.  She understands.

		ROSE
	How do you know she understands?
	You haven't spent more than five
	minutes with her, or me, in weeks.

		MARSHALL
	And when have I had five minutes?
	When I wake up in the morning and
	I'm already three hours behind
	Schedule.  What do you want me to
	do, Rose, tell the G7 to fuck off
	because I'm a family man?

		(BEAT)
	I'm sorry. That wasn't fair.

		ROSE
	No. It wasn't.

He takes her in his arms.

		MARSHALL
	You know what?

		ROSE
	What?

		MARSHALL
	I miss you. And I miss her.

		ROSE
	But that's the point, Jim. We're
	right here.

		MARSHALL
	I wish it were that easy...

Long beat. He smiles at her, it's the same sweet smile that
won her heart, the same smile that got him elected. She
softens.

		MARSHALL
	I'll make it up to you, I promise.

		ROSE
	I should trust that promise? Because
	you know the voters are still waiting
	for that middle class tax cut.

		MARSHALL
	This promise isn't subject to
	Congressional approval.

She smiles. The tension breaks.

		ROSE
	How did your speech go?

		MARSHALL
	Well, they aren't burning me in
	effigy. That's always a good sign.

They kiss again, this time for real. But... a knock on the
door.

		SHEPHERD (0.5.)
	Mr. President.

Shepherd opens the door.

		MARSHALL
	Look on the bright side, hon. Shep
	here thinks I'll be a one termer.

		ROSE
	Shall I ask the Chief of Staff to
	schedule your daughter in?

		SHEPHERD
	She is scheduled. Her school play's
	Tuesday night.

Rose rolls her eyes.

		MARSHALL
	The First Lady was making a joke,
	Shep. I'll make some time, Rose. I
	promise.

Marshall heads for his meeting.

EXT. COCKPIT - NIGHT

Col. Axelrod and his co-pilot LT. COL. ARTHUR INGRAHAMS are
at the wheel.

RUSSIAN AIR TRAFFIC (V.0)

		(THICK ACCENT)
	United States Air Force One, this is
	tower. It's an honor to clear you
	for immediate take-off on runway
	three.

		COL. AXELROD
	Roger, Tower. And thank you for the
	hospitality.

Axeirod eases up the throttle and the four GE-F103 Turbofan
engines spring to life.

EXT. RUNWAY - NIGHT

A picture perfect take-off as Air Force One slides through
the moonlight and skates upward on a sheet of air.

EXT. AIR FORCE ONE, FLYING - AN HOUR LATER

Airborne in the midnight sky.

INT. AIR FORCE ONE, GALLEY - NIGHT

Aircraft engines drone.

CLOSE ON - A coffee pot pouring piping joe into a mug
emblazoned with ubiguitou Presidential Seal. The mug is placed
on a tray with a half-dozen other mugs and passed to a STEW.
He carries the tray down the corridor past passenger cabins.

Drowsiness has overtaken the plane. Many of the passengers
and aides are asleep. CNN plays On T.V. sets, entertaining
the few night owls and news junkies.

		CNN REPORTER (T.V.)
	In an unusually aggressive speech,
	the President characterized the
	Stravanavitch regime as thugs whose
	brutality will no longer be tolerated.
	Meanwhile, in Turkmenistan,
	Stravanavitch's ouster has sent the
	country into turmoil.  Tens of
	thousands of refugees continue to
	huddle in U.N. safe havens, as rival
	Stravanavitch loyalists fight among
	themselves for control. But at least
	for the time being, the ethnic
	cleansing has been stopped.

Toward the front of the plane, the steward enters the
conference room.

INT. CONFERENCE ROOM - NIGHT

As the steward closes the door behind him, all background
noise disappears. We are in a sound shielded room. Even the
engines' drone cannot be heard.

The lights in the room are dim as MAJOR CALDWELL, a military
advisor, projects satellite photos of Iraqi military bases
onto a screen.

The steward serves coffee as unobtrusively as he can while
the meeting continues.

		MAJOR CALDWELL
	Our KH-ll's took this one at 0100
	hours. What you see here is the
	mobilization of two mechanized
	brigades.

		MARSHALL
	They've gotta be joking.

		DOHERTY
	The Iraqi ambassador is claiming
	it's just an exercise.

		MARSHALL
	An exercise in futility. Send the
	Nimitz back in.

		MAJOR CALDWELL
	The northern border's gotten a bit
	hairy. Their MiGs are playing tag
	with our Tomcats and our boys are
	just itching to engage.

		MARSHALL
	Tell our boys to cool their jets. I
	don't need `em creating policy for
	me.

We follow the steward as he slips out of the conference room
and back into the...

INT. CORRIDOR - NIGHT

with a few coffees left on his tray. One of them is scooped
up by Gibbs as he passes, his nose is buried in a fax.

INT. SECRET SERVICE CABIN - NIGHT

Gibbs leans in the cabin.

		GIBBS
	Hey Walters, you and Johnson come
	here a second. Reykjavik just sent
	the advance team report.

Special Agents Walters and JOHNSON rise and follow Gibbs
into an adjoining office.

INT. OFFICE - CONTINUOUS

Gibbs closes the door behind the two agents. As Walters and
Johnson take their seats, Gibbs WITHDRAWS HIS WEAPON and...

SHOOTS each of the agents in THE BACK OF THE HEAD.

Silenced pistol. Blood all over the desk. Gibbs removes each
of the agent's weapons and slips them into his waistband. He
waits a few beats, takes a long sip of coffee, then exits
the office.

INT. SECRET SERVICE CABIN - NIGHT

As he passes through the cabin he takes a silent inventory.
Five other agents working, sleeping, on the phone.

INT. PRESS CABIN - NIGHT

Gibbs nods to Korshunov. Korshunov nods one of his men.
NEVSKY removes one of his videotapes, pops the front cover
exposing the tape. Across the face of the tape is a thin
strip of a rubbery substance. Nevsky pulls the strip up and
out, making a kind of fuse. He reaches for a pack of
matches... courtesy matches, sporting the Seal of the
President.

Nevsky nods and lights the fuse.

IN A RAPID SUCCESSION -

GIBBS tosses his two extra weapons to Korshunov's men, pivots
the corner and begins firing at his colleagues. The SECRET
SERVICE AGENTS try to get at their weapons, but Gibbs has
caught them completely off-guard.

Several silenced central nervous system shots (head and neck)
and the five agents slump back, their red blood cascading
down the creases of the fine Corinthian leather chairs.

Nevsky tosses the cassette up the corridor... smoke pours
out of it. Smoke screen.

BAZYLEV and ZEDECK catch the guns Gibbs tossed and hold them
on the reporters.

		BAZYLEV
	UP! GET UP NOW!

Bazylev grabs the stunned reporters, yanking them into the
aisle.

		BAZYLEV
	Walk in front of us. Go! Go! Go!

Human shields. A half dozen of them.

Behind the terrorists, one of the bathroom doors swings open.
A SECRET SERVICE AGENT emerges. Sees what's happening. Reaches
for his gun. ZEDECK fells him with a well placed unsilenced
GUN SHOT. SCREAMS ensue...

INT. FORWARD CABIN - NIGHT

A sleeping SECRET SERVICE AGENT bolts upright. HEARS MORE
SHOTS.

He springs up and moves toward the gunshots, his weapon drawn.

		SECRET SERVICE AGENT
	SHOTS FIRED! SECURE BOY SCOUT!
		(screaming out and
		into his lapel mike)
	SHOTS FIRED! SHOTS FIRED!

INT. SECRET SERVICE CABIN - NIGHT

Bazylev and Zedeck lay down a suppressing fire outside the
door.

		GIBBS
	Come on! Quickly.

Korshunov, Nevsky and VLAD follow Gibbs into the Secret
Service office. Gibbs opens a locker and pulls out a stash
of MP5 automatic assault rifles and bullet-proof vests.

Korshunov raises his bushy eyebrows in delight.

		GIBBS
	The Secret Service believes in being
	prepared for any eventuality.

INT. CORRIDOR - NIGHT

The Secret Service agent fights his way through the smoke to
a wall panel. Punches a red buttoned intercom.

INT. AIR FORCE ONE'S FLIGHT DECK - NIGHT

A red light on the security panel lights up...

		SECRET SERVICE AGENT (V.0.)
	We have a code red, I repeat, code
	red. Shots fired onboard.

Cot. AXELROD Cabin/Flight Deck: Code Red Acknowledged...
Shit.

		LT. CCL. INGRAHAMS
		(into headset
		microphone)
	Warsaw tower this is Air Force One.
	Declaring Emergency.

Axelrod toggles his headset to secure line.

		COL. AXELROD
	Ranstein Air Base, this is Air Force
	One Heavy. We have a code red. Shots
	fired onboard, request priority
	redirect. Please acknowledge.

INT. RAMSTEIN AIR BASE, AIR TRAFFIC CONTHOL TOWER - NIGHT

SUPER - "RAMSTEIN AIR BASE, GERMANY"

Hunched over a control terminal, the AIR TRAFFIC CONTROLLER
tracks Air Force One's radar image.

		RAMSTEIN A.B. CONTROLLER
	Fuck me. GO WAKE THE GENERAL. NOW!

The WATCH OFFICER springs into action, picking up a phone.

		RAMSTEIN A.B. CONTROLLER
	Air Force One Heavy, acknowledged.
	You are on our scope. Please state
	fuel remaining and souls onboard.

		COL. AXELROD (RADIO)
	Sixty seven souls onboard, we're
	okay with fuel. Request secure
	military escort with emergency medical
	standing by.

		RAMSTEIN A.B. CONTROLLER
	Air Force One Heavy, acknowledged.
	We are scrambling our fighters.

The controller hits a red button on his console. Sirens flare
up and klaxons wail across the base.

The controller looks down to his runways. In the light of
the moon he sees a half-dozen men rushing toward F-15 Eagles.

		RAMSTEIN A.B. CONTROLLLR
	Call Berlin Tower. Not a plane lands
	or takes off within two hundred miles!
	Understood?

The once sleepy midnight control room cranks into full crisis
mode.

INT. AIR FORCE ONE, MISSION COMMUNICATIONS CENTER - NIGHT

Pandemonium. GUNFIRE pops in the b.g. Air Force Specialists
try to get the word out.

AIR FORCE SPECIALIST

A.F. SPECIALIST #2

 General Greely? No sir, Interrupt her. This is       this
is Air Force One. We Air Force One with an        have a
code red. Shots emergency call.		have been fired.

INT. CONFERENCE ROOM - NIGHT

The conference room door bursts open and TWO SECRET SERVICE
AGENTS, weapons drawn, enter the room and run to Marshall.

The once quiet room floods with light. The sounds of a
gunfight and a blanket of smoke sweeps into the cabin.

		MARSHALL
	What's going on?

		SECRET SERVICE AGENT
	We're under attack.

		MARSHALL
	Where's my family?

		SECRET SERVICE AGENT
	We're handling it, sir.

The agents lift Marshall to his feet, and practically carry
him from the room, leaving the other high ranking officials
to scramble for themselves in a cacophony of shouts.

		MARSHALL
	The launch codes! Who's protecting
	the football?

FORWARD CORRIDOR -

Perkins, carrying the nuclear football, ducks and weaves his
way down the corridor into the fray. He takes a bullet to
the shoulder, which fells him.

NEAR THE FORWARD GALLEY -

Alice is nearly trampled by agents responding to the gunfire.

One agent grabs her and shoves her into a bathroom.

		SECRET SERVICE AGENT
	Don't open the door!

GUNFIRE pops all around her.

INT. CORRIDOR, REAR CABINS - NIGHT

Smoke, automatic weapons fire. Secret service agents battling
the terrorists. Aides, diplomats, crew and personnel caught
in the crossfire.

		ZEDECK
	Down! Everybody down.

A spray of weapons fire overhead and everyone hits the floor.

		ZEDECK
	STAY DOWN, PLACE YOUR HANDS BEHIND
	YOUR HEAD AND YOU WILL NOT BE SHOT!

INT. AIR FORCE ONE, FLIGHT DECK - NIGHT

RAMSTEIN A.B. CONTROLLER (RADIO)

Air Force One Heavy, you are cleared for priority divert,
all runways are clear.

		LT. COL. INGRAHAMS
	Warsaw Tower has cleared local
	airspace.

		COL. AXELROD
	Changing course heading to 276 point
	five. Dropping to twenty thousand
	feet.

Shots can be heard outside.

		COL. AXELROD
	Ingrahams, make sure that door's
	locked.

		LT. COL. INGRAHAMS
	Yes sir.

Ingrahams locks the cockpit door.

EXT. SKY - NIGHT

Air Force One banks into a curve and descends through broken
clouds.

INT. PRESIDENTIAL STATEROOM - NIGHT

The sounds of gunfire have reached the the nose of the plane.

Rose peers out to see what's the matter. An armed Secret
Service agent runs toward her.

		SECRET SERVICE AGENT
	Get back! Get back!

A spray of bullets mows him down. He collapses in the door
frame. Terrified, Rose tries to close the door, but the dead
agent is in the way.

INT. CORRIDOR - NIGHT

Filled with smoke and gunfire. The agents rush the President
behind a forward bulkhead.

		SECRET SERVICE AGENT
		(into mike)
	We have Boy Scout, traveling forward.

		VOICE (OVER MIKE)
	Negative... negative... they're up
	here too.

		SECRET SERVICE AGENT
	Roger. We're going to the chute.

Marshall looks up the hallway toward his stateroom.

		MARSHALL
		(calling out)
	ROSE! ALICE!

DOWN THE CORRIDOR -

Gibbs fires.

HITS - One of the Secret Service agents in the shoulder.
Blood blossoms through his clothes but he winces it off.

		SECRET SERVICE AGENT
	Come on, sir.

The Secret Service agents whisk the President to the front
stairwell. They pull up a floor panel, revealing stairs
descending toward the baggage deck.

INT. BATHROOM -

Alice, huddled atop the commode.

		MARSHALL (O.S.)
	Alice!

		ALICE
	Daddy...

Alice opens the door and rushes...

INTO THE CORRIDOR...

Tripping and falling over Joey, the steward. His dead eyes
swim in a pool of blood that was his face. Alice screams,
scrambling to her feet.

MID-PLANE CORRIDOR -

Perkins manages to push himself to his feet and stumbles
down the hall into the computer room. Terrorist SERGE spots
the nuclear football dangling from his wrist. He pursues.

INT. COMPUTER ROOM - NIGHT

Hysterical SECRETARIES feverishly dump classified documents
into a shredder, while Perkins struggles to open the black
leather briefcase handcuffed to his wrist.

Bullets tear up the doorknob lock arid SERGE kicks in the
door.

		SERGE
	Down! Everyone down!

The Fawn Halls hit the floor as gunfire sprays overhead. But
Perkins swings around brandishing his sidearm. He opens fire
on Serge, but the bullets smack harmlessly against the SWAT
vest.

Serge returns fire, ripping up Perkins who collapses over
the shredder, and with his last bit of strength, he dumps
out the briefcase.

Papers containing NUCLE WAR STRATEGIES and MISSILE LAUNCH
CODES slide into the hungry Shredding machine. Perkins manages
a slight smile before he keels over dead, his duty fulfilled.
The shredded remains of the nuclear football rain over his
head like tickertape at a hero's parade.

EXT. SKY - NIGHT

The pale moon catches shiny streaks of metal that descend
through the broken clouds. The Squadron of F-15 Eagles drops
into formation around Air Force One.

INT. FLIGHT DECK - NIGHT

Gun shots right Outside the cockpit door.

		COT. CARLTON (RADIO)
	Air Force One, this is Squadron
	Commander Canton. You are now under
	escort. All airspace has been cleared.

		COL. AXELROD
	This is Air Force One Heavy. I'm
	coming in full throttle. ETA to
	Ranstein eight minutes. We've got a
	war here, sir.

INT. COCKPIT F-LB EAGLE - NIGHT

Encased in a helmet, mask, and visor, Carlton watches the

flashes of gunfire in the dark windows of the plane.

COt. CARLTON Copy. Delta Force has been mobilized.

		COT. AXELROD (V.0.)
	Roger that.

INT. LOWER DECK OF AIR FORCE ONE - NIGHT

Beneath the main cabin, the Secret Service agents run the
President through the forward baggage compartment and the
lower galley: a large room with compartments, storage freezers
and food preperation tables.

On the far side of the galley, the agents fling open a
hatchway and enter...

A NARROW GANGWAY - running between the lower galley and the
rear baggage hold, flanked on either side by the landing
gear bays.

They duck under wing supports until they come to a mesh
grating.

The uninjured agent lifts the grating revealing an ESCAPE
POD.

		SECRET SERVICE AGENT
	Get in!

Marshall freezes.

		SECRET SERVICE AGENT
	Get in, sir.

A second later gunfire rips Up the agent's face. The new
volley sends Marshall under the cover of a wing strut. The
second agent takes Position and returns fire. He quells the
incoming volley for a moment.

		MARSHALL
	What about my family?

		SECRET SERVICE AGENT #
	I have a family, too, sir. Now get
	in the fucking pod.

The firing begins again. Marshall struggles with the decision.

		SECRET SERVICE AGENT #
	Mr. President... MR. PRESIDENT! You
	have to do this! The pod, on three.
	Ready?

The agent shoves in a fresh clip...

		SECRET SERVICE AGENT
	One.

		MARSHALL
	But...

		SECRET SERVICE AGENT
		(cutting him off)
	Two... THREE. GO!

The agent combat-rolls into the open and fires. He advances
down the gangway acting as a shield for the president,
shooting blindly.  Marshall watches as he's hit repeatedly,
but it gives him the time he needs to dive for the pod.

REVERSE ANGLE - VLAD AND NEVSKY

behind the bulkhead. When the agent drops, Nevsky and Viad
rush down the gangway. They arrive at the closed pod just as
it begins to slide on its rails. They let loose dozens of
rounds from their MP55, but the bullets just plink off.

The pod-lock doors slide shut. The President is on his way
to safety.

EXT. SKY - NIGHT

Small bay doors open in the belly of Air Force One, and a
human sized cannister drops from the bottom, its parachute
Opening instantly.

INT. FLIGHT DECK - NIGHT

A light flashes On the panel.

		COT. AXELROD
		(into mike)
	Ramstein/Air Force One: Emergency
	pod has been deployed. I repeat,
	emergency pod has been deployed.

		RANSTEIN A.B. CONTROLLER
	This is Ramstein. Acknowledged. We
	are picking up the homing beacon and
	deploying search and rescue.

		COT. AXELROD
	Copy Ramstein. We are dropping to
	five thousand feet, beginning final
	approach.

INT. BAGGAGE DECK GANGWAY - NIGHT

		ALICE (O.S.)
	Daddy? Dad?

Her voice comes closer, filled with choking fear and panic.
She rounds the corner and Nevsky catches her hair with a
vice-tight grip shoving his MP5 into the small of her back.

		NEVSKY
	Your father has left you behind.

INT. PRESIDENTIAL STATEROOM - NIGHT

Korshunov kicks open the door.

		ROSE
	NO!

Gunfire from ROSE, who holds the dead secret service agent's
weapon. She empties the clip at the doorway. Click, click.
No more bullets. Korshunov steps into the room, brandishing
his automatic, smiling. Rose backs against the wall and raises
her hands.

EXT. WHITE HOUSE LAWN - DAY

A Marine helicopte touches down on the greenway. Marines
salute and escort KATHERINE CHANDLER from the chopper'
interior to the South entrance of the White House. She is
the VICE PRESIDENT of the UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.

INT. AIR FORCE ONE, MISSION COMNUNICATIONS CENTER - NIGHT

Zedeck steps over the three dead Communications Specialists,
on his way to the cockpit door. Tries the door. It's locked.
He pounds on it.

		ZEDECK
	Open! Now!

INT. FLIGHT DECK - NIGHT

Through the cockpit window, the glowing landing lights of
Ramstein Base are visible in the distance, cutting a wedge
through the German towns and fields.

Zedeck's pounding continues.

		COT. AXELROD
	Ramatein, we are fifteen miles away
	on final approach. I'm coming in
	fast and will need every inch of
	runway.

RAMSTEIN A.B. CONTROLLER (V.0.)

Copy, Air Force One. Wind is twelve knots from the east.
Tactical and emergency are in position.

EXT. RANSTEIN AIR FIELD - NIGHT

Rescue vehicle sirens gyre in the darkness. A team of black-
faced commandos unload from troop truck. Snipers take position
atop rescue vehicles, barracks, and the control tower.

High-powered rifles with infra-red scopes.

INT. MISSION COMMUNICATIONS CENTER - NIGHT

Zedeck aims his MP5 at the flight door. Fires off a dozen
rounds. Nickel sized indentations blossom across the steel
surface.

INT. FLIGHT DECK - NIGHT

Dull thuds of bullet impacts.

		COT. AXELROD
	Let's get this crate on the ground.

They're some real good men waiting to help us.

EXT. AIR FORCE ONE - NIGHT

The plane sprouts landing gear as it descends over the city.

Coming in fast and low.

INT. MISSION COMMUNICATIONS CENTER - NIGHT

Gibbs shoves Zedeck aside. Produces a thumb-sized amount of
C-4.

INT. FLIGHT DECK - NIGHT

Final approach... the landing strip not far at all.

		COL. AXELROD
	Almost there.

He raises his flaps. Air speed and altitude drop.

EXT. RAPISTEIN AIR FIELD - NIGHT

Spotters find Air Force One's navigation lights visible in
the sky, descending from the distant darkness. Followed by
the cluster of F-lSs.

INT. MISSION COMMUNICATIONS CENTER - NIGHT

Gibbs rolls out the C-4 like a kid making a snake in pottery
class. He presses it along the door seal.

INT. FLIGHT DECK - NIGHT

Altitude decreasing. 300 feet... 200 hundred feet...

The runway coming up to meet them.

EXT. RAMSTEIN AIR FIELD - NIGHT

As the entire airbase collectively holds its breath. Air
Force One's tires hover 50 feet above the ground... 40 feet...
30...

INT. MISSION COMMUNICATIONS CENTER - NIGHT

Gibbs raises his pistol. Aims at the C-4. Fires. BAM!

INT. COCKPIT - NIGHT

A BLINDING FLASH. The door blows in.

EXT. RANSTEIN AIR FIELD - NIGHT

The wheels touchdown.

INT. MISSION COMMUNICATIONS CENTER - NIGHT

Gibbs and Zedeck storm the cockpit.

RNT. FLIGHT DECK - NIGHT

Axeirod gropes at the plane's controls, trying to retain the
wheel. Gibbs dispatches Axeirod with one shot. Zedek is a
little messier with Ingrahams. But both pilot and co-pilot
slump over their controls.

EXT. RANSTEIN AIR FIELD - NIGHT

The taxiing Boeing 747 suddenly veers to the right cutting
across runways. Emergency vehicles give chase.

The plane bounces. Is airborne for a second. Touches down
again with a jolt.

INT. CORRIDOR - AIR FORCE ONE - NIGHT

Terrorists lead hostages to the conference room. Everyone is
bounced around, slamming against walls, spilling over chairs.

A MASTER SERGEANT seizes the opportunity and grabs for
Bazylev's gun, but Bazylev shoots him almost point blank.

		BAZYLEV
	Keep moving!

INT. FLIGHT DECK - NIGHT

Chaos. Gibbs tries to pull Axelrod off the controls.

		GIBBS
	Throttle up. Throttle up!

Zedek slams the throttle all the wa up. Spotlights and sirens
swirl outside the cockpit window.

EXT. RMMSTEIN FIELD - NIGHT

The Flying White House careens toward the barracks, then
edges toward a hangar. The jet engines strain to reach full
power.

INT. RAMSTEIN CONTROL TOWER - NIGHT

The controller stares down at the out-of-control plane.

		RAMSTEIN A.B. CONTROLLER
	Aw Fuck. We're losing it!

INT. FLIGHT DECK - NIGHT

Gibbs pulls Axeirod's body out of the pilot's seat. Looks
out the cockpit window and sees...

		A C-141 STARLIFTER
	in his path. A monstrous plane, every
	bit as big as Air Force One. Gibbs
	eases back on the wheel and the 747
	sluggishly responds, its nose creeping
	upward.

		GIBBS
	Come on.

Adjusts the flaps...

EXT. RAMSTEIN AIRFIELD - NIGHT

Air Force One closes in on the Starlifter. She's struggling
off

the ground like some injured bird. The straining metal defies
gravity.

INT. FLIGHT DECK - NIGHT

Gibbs senses that he's too close. He pulls way back on the
stick, risks stalling her out... but the bird responds.

EXT. RAMSTEIN FIELD - NIGHT

Air Force One barely clears the Starlifter, the edge of her
wing just missing the top of the C-141's tail.

The sharpshooters, the emergency crews, the commandos from
Delta Force...  Nothing they can do but watch her rise out.
of sight.

INT. FLIGHT DECK - LATER

Gibbs and Zedeck. Gibbs checks over all the instruments.

		GIBBS
	Okay, 30,000 feet. Give me my heading.

		ZEDECK
	Bearing 110 point eight two.

Gibbs banks the plane into a curve, then activates the auto-
pilot.

		GIBBS
	Call me if something changes.

		ZEDECK
	That's it?

		GIBBS
	To fly a 747 you need to know three
	things. How to take of f, how to
	land, and how to engage the autopilot.

INT. AIR FORCE ONE - NIGHT

SERIES OF SHOTS--

The terrorists, from every corner of the plane, lead the
stunned survivors, hands on heads, to the central conference
room.

As Korshunov walks Rose up the corridor, he meets up with
Gibbs, descending from the upper deck.

		KORSHUNOV
	The rest of the secret service?

		GIBBS
	Dead.

		KORSHUNOV
	How many others killed?

		GIBBS
	Nine.

		KORSHUNOV
	Any of us?

Gibbs touches his bulletproof vest.

		GIBBS
	No damages.

		ROSE
	Where's my daughter?

		GIBBS
	She's alive, ma'am, for the time
	being.

Rose allows herself a half-sob of relief.

		ROSE
	And my husband?

		GIBBS
	The secret service did their job,
	ma'am. The President is safely off
	the plane.
		(to Korshunov)
	But that still leaves us plenty to
	bargain with.

Eyes filled with hatred... Rose SLAPS Gibbs face.

		ROSE
	Mr. Gibbs. You, of all people...

Gibbs doesn't react.

		GIBBS
	Follow me, ma'am.

INT. WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM - DAY

High-tech maps and communications systems line the walls,
surrounding an austere main conference table. Laptop computers
and secure telephones by every seat. Side tables. Tele-type
machines spitting out classified information.

VICE PRESIDENT CHANDLER analyzes the projected course of Air
Force One on the tactical vid-map.

		V.P. CHANDLER
	We should have the President secure
	within minutes. Do we know who these
	terrorists are or where they're going?

GENERAL NORTHWOOD, head of the Joint Chiefs of Staff...

		GENERAL NORTHWOOD
	General Greely says it looks like
	the Middle East.

		V.P. CHANDLER
	Does your office have anything to
	add, Mr. Dean?

National Security Advisor WALTER DEAN leans forward.

		DEAN
	The garners believe that, given the
	scenario, there's an 86% chance that

we'll be dealing with a hostage situation and not an
assassination attempt. Not much else until there's more data.

		V.P. CHANDLER
	If we're dealing with an airborne
	hostage situation what's our
	procedure?

The Under-Secretary of Defense, THOMAS LEE, punches up a
scenario on the lap-top.

		LEE
	Our only policy assumes the plane is
	on the ground. Our hands are
	completely tied while they're in the
	air.

		V.P. CHANDLER
	Okay, Gentlemen, we'll take no action
	until we confirm that the president
	is off the plane... Lee, go huddle
	with the D.O.D. I want an options
	paper on this in 20 minutes.

		LEE
	Twenty minutes?

		V.P. CHANDLER
	You heard me.
		(points to an aide)
	You. Congress and cabinet heads.

The aide nods and picks up a telephone.

		AIR FORCE COLONEL
	Madame Vice-President?

Chandler turns toward the door. The Colonel enters the room,
holding a black briefcase identical to Perkins'.

		V.P. CHANDLER
	Yes?

		AIR FORCE COLONEL
	National Command Authority. All
	previous launch codes have been
	cancelled. You're carrying the ball
	now.

		V.P. CHANDLER
	Thank you, Colonel. Have a seat.

EXT. GERMAN FARMLAND - NIGHT

A HUEY, flanked by a pair of APACHES, skims the surface of
wheat fields at maximum velocity.

INT. HUEY COCKPIT - NIGHT

The pilot checks his instruments. He's honing in on a signal.

EXT. GERMAN FARKD - NIGHT

The swirling spotlights of the Apaches finally illuminate
the Seal of the President atop the EMERGENCY DEPLOYMENT POD.

The Huey drops in for a landing and a half dozen Army Rangers
in full combat gear deploy to the pod. They open it.

But.........

IT'S EMPTY.

INT. BAGGAGE DECK GANGWAY - NIGHT

Bruised and battered, some blood smeared across his tuxedo
shirt... PRESIDENT JAMES MARSHALL lowers himself from one of
the overhead wing struts.

He emerges into the bowels of Air Force one.

He stands quietly a moment, listening... for footsteps, for
gunfire. All quiet except for the whine of the jet engines.

He tak9s a moment to think. Considers his situation. His
eyes find the dead agent who risked his life so he could
make it to the pod. He trots down the gangway toward the
lower galley.

EXT. SKY - NIGHT

Air Force One hovers atop billowy peaks. The smaller F-15s
cluster around her in a loose formation.

FIGHTER PILOT #1 (0.5. RADIO)

Sir, isn't there something we can do besides escort?

COL. CARLTON (O.S. RADIO)

Like what, son... shoot our own plane down?

		FIGHTER PILOT #1
	No sir. I just wish...

		COL. CARLTON
	Roger. We all wish... Now shut the
	fuck up and escort.

INT. LOWER GALLEY - NIGHT

Marshall looks around for a weapon... half-full coffee pot,

stove, walk-in freezer, plates and silverware. Marshall picks
up a butcher knife.

INT. CORRIDOR, AIR FORCE ONE - NIGHT

Nevsky and Bazylev guard the conference room door as Korshunov
and Vlad enter. Nevsky hands Korshunov a copy of the plane's
manifest.

		NEVSKY
	Every weapon and every person is
	accounted for.

Korshunov nods and enters the room.

INT. CONFERENCE ROOM - NIGHT

Korshunov surveys the hostages. Viad covers them at gunpoint.

Rose holds Alice, comforting her.  shepherd, Doherty, Aides,
Advisors, Crew... Fifty of them huddle like sardines.

The plane's doctor administers to the wounded.

Korshunov stares down his captives.

		KORSHUNOV
	Fear will keep you alive. Any one
	who is not afraid is bound to do
	something foolish, and bound to die.

		ROSE
	What do you want with us?

		KORSHUNOV
	Cooperation. If you try to escape,
	you will be met with automatic gunfire
	and a barricade of your comrade's
	bodies will prevent you from exiting.
	Good day.

Korshunov exits, with Viad backing out behind him. Leaving
the hostages alone. The sound of the door locking.

A mournful beat. Everyone looks at each other and the dead
and wounded victims of this heinous act...

Hushed conversation breaks out all over the room.

		DOHERTY
	This can't be happening. You just
	don't pull this shit with the United
	States. You just don't.

		MAJOR CALDWELL
	Keep your heads.

Caldwell paces, looks around the room.

		SHEPHERD
	Mrs. Marshall, are you okay?

		ROSE
	We're alive.

		SHEPHERD
	That's all that matters. Thank god
	the President got of f the plane.

		ROSE
	Yes... thank God.
		(to caldwell)
	You there... Caidwell, right? What's
	on your mind?  caldwell takes a beat,
	then crosses to Rose and Shepherd.

		MAJOR CALDWELL
		(hushed)
	I don't want to get anybody here
	excited, but if we can get out of
	this room, I can get us to safety.

		SHEPHERD
	We're thirty five thousand feet up.

		MAJOR CALDWELL
	Yes, sir, that's a problem, but if
	we can somehow get to a lower
	altitude, the rear loading ramp on
	the baggage deck is equipped with
	parachutes in case of an engine
	failure. Now we can either wait for
	a political resolution, or try to
	resolve this thing ourselves.

		DOHERTY
	You're goddamn right we can resolve
	this ourselves. We'll negotiate.

		SHEPHERD
	You know the President's policy.

		DOHERTY
	The President isn't here.

		ROSE
	Right now we are an enormous liability
	to the United States. We can't just
	sit and do nothing.

INT. CORRIDOR - NIGHT

The terrorists move toward the nose of the plane leaving
Nevsky to guard the conference room.

INT. BAGGAGE HOLD - NIGHT

President Marshall reaches the front stairway. Cautiously
climbs to the main cabin. As he reaches the top stairs, he
hears Russian conversation approaching. He ducks back into
the stairwell.

He can't see them, but he can hear them.

The terrorists pass within a few feet as they ascend to the
Mission Communications Center on the upper deck.

Marshall waits a few beats, listens to the silence. Then re-
mounts the stairs and almost runs into the back of...

		VIAD
	Standing guard, facing the opposite
	direction.

Marshall FREEZES... looks past Viad down the corridor where
Nevsky guards the main conference room floor.

Unaware of Marshall, Viad reaches into his pocket and pulls
out a cigarette. Lights it. On the first puff he feels a
presence behind him.

VLAD slowly turns around...

Nothing there.

He smiles at his jittery nerves, turns back round.

REVERSE ANGLE -

Over Vlad's shoulder...

MARSHALL, flattened behind the edge of the galley divider.
He creeps away from Vlad toward the Presidential Suite...
stepping gingerly over dead secret service agents.

INT. MISSION COMMUNICATIONS CENTER -

*       Korshunov pulls a handkerchef from his breast pocket
and wipes the blood from a telephone headset.

		KORSHUNOV
	Proceed.

Gibbs works the communications board, dialing in a series of
numbers. Telephone ringing...

INT. WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM - DAY

A map of Air Force One's flight trajectory is displayed on
the rear screen. Moscow to Berlin and back toward the Black
Sea.

The assembled brass listens as Korshunov's voice slithers
off the speaker phone.

		KORSHUNOV (SPEAKER)
	...the Chief of Staff, the First
	Lady, and the First Daughter.  Our
	demands are simple. Arrange the
	release of Ivan Stravanvitch.  Once
	our leader is returned to Turkuenistan
	soil, Air Force One and it's occupants
	will be allowed safe passage to
	Switzerland. You have one hour before
	we start killing hostages.

The phone clicks off. A silent beat in the room.

		V.P. CHANDLER
	Find that voice for me, I want to
	know who we're dealing with. And get
	President Petrov on the phone.

GENERAL CHARLES GREELY, head of the 87th Mechanized Air Wing,
the unit responsible for Air Force One, enters the room.

		GENERAL GREELY
	Madame Vice-President, we just got
	word from Ramstein... The nod was
	UntiL Chandler stands.

		V.P. CHANDLER
	Empty?

		GENERAL GREELY
	The President... he must still be
	onboard.

		V.P. CHANDLER
	Play back that call.

		TECHNICAL OFFICER
	Yes, sir.

The Tech Officer indexes back on his computer.

		KORSHUNOV (V.0. TAPE)
	The plane is under our command, and
	those we did not kill we hold as
	hostages, including the Chief of
	Staff, the First Lady, and the First
	Daughter.

		V.P. CHANDLER
	but not the President. Not the
	President.

A silent beat.

		GENERAL NORTHWOOD
	He's dead then. They must have killed
	him.

		DEAN
	We don't know that.

		GENERAL NORTHWOOD
	Holding the president hostage is not
	something that slips your mind when
	you're making demands.

		V.P. CHANDLER
	And if he's dead? Do you really think
	they'd risk telling us?

		DEAN
	There is a possibility we're
	overlooking.

All eyes turn to Dean.

		DEAN
	When I ran Specops in `Nam, I ordered
	the destruction of a V.C.  munitions
	dump. During insertion, the plane
	was shot down and the entire team
	was killed, or so we thought. Two
	days later the dump

BLEW AND A WEEK AFTER THAT, THIS 19-

year-old kid, the pilot... he walks out of the jungle in
pretty bad shape. He survived the crash and finished the
mission... alone.

		GENERAL NORTHWOOD
	Walter, if you have a point, make
	it.

		DEAN
	That kid's name was Jim Marshall.

Most of the President's service record makes for dull reading
because most of what he did iarLZ ULirn.   History remembers
him for what he did aflar he got back to the states -- the
protests, the rallies -- But he was a soldier once, a damn
fine one.

		V.P. CHANDLER
	So what are you saying?

		DEAN
	Maybe he's alive on that plane and
	those bastards don't even know it.

		V.P. CHANDLER
	Mr. Dean, may I remind you that the
	President is not 19 anymore.

INT. PRESIDENT'S STATEROOM - NIGHT

Marshall cautiously enters the room. Ready for action.

The room is empty, but it's been trashed by the firefight.

The sound of voices... coming from the Duke game which still
plays. Marshall hustles over to one of the secure phones.

It's dead. He tries the regular phone. Dead. Hangs it up in
disgust.

		MARSHALL
	Goddamnit.

He steps on some glass. It's a broken frame holding a
PHOTOGRAPH of Alice and Rose. He picks up the photo and lays
it on a table.

He thinks for a beat... glances around the room, searching...

Then he crosses to the closet, opens it and begins rifling
through his wardrobe.

INT. MAIN CONFERENCE ROOM.

Caldwell stands on the conference table. The hostages have
removed one of the ceiling panels. Air supply ducts and
bundles of wiring run through the ten-inch space between the
ceiling and the shielding plates.

		MAJOR CALDWELL
	This is a dead end.

Rose looks around the room. Hopeless. Her eyes land on the
carpet...

INT. CORRIDOR.

Marshall opens the stateroom door and slowly slides into the
corridor.

Vlad still faces the opposite direction.

Marshall creeps down the hallway, when...

Beep... Beep... Beep...

Marshall's watch alarm goes off.

Marshall dives for the nearest doorway. Vlad swings round to
see a figure slip into the senior staff cabin.

Vlad, unsure of what he saw., cautiously heads toward the
staff cabin. As he nears, he bends over a dead Secret Service
agent and pulls up the lifeless wrist revealing abeening
watch. It wasn't Marshall's after all. No matter. Vlad
continues to the staff Cabin.

INT. STAFF CABIN - NIGHT

Marshall frantically searches for something he can use as a
weapon. In the room: some video monitors, leather chairs and
phones. stainless steel cabinets run the length of one of
the walls.

Marshall throws the cabinet doors open, revealing...

A fully stocked MEDICAL CENTER... fold-down operating

table... high-intensity lights. Equipped to deal with any
medical emergency the president might encounter.

But too late. Vlad kicks the door open.

		VLAD
	Get on the floor, now!

Marshall yanks down the operating table, and it smashes into
Vlad, knocking him down. Marshall lunges with his knife, but
Vlad OPENS FIRE. A HALF DOZEN ROUNDS pump into Marshall's
belly. He's thrown back against the wall, then slumps to the
floor.

Vlad approaches the crumpled body. Leans down to examine his
victim. He cups his hand under the man's chin and lifts his
head. Recognizes him.

		VIAD
		(wonderment)
	The President.

But Marshall's eyes flash open.

		MARSHALL
	That's right, asshole.

He springs, shoving the butcher knife under the flack jacket
and into Vlad's spleen. Vlad freezes, unsure of what just
happened.

Marshall is on his feet. Never letting go of the twisting
knife, he grabs Vlad by the back of the head and slams his
face against the mirror above the surgical scrub sink. The
mirror shatters and streams of blood erupt cn the terrorist's
face. The blood drips down into the white porcelain sink,
swirling into the drain.

Vlad elbows Marshall in the neck, stunning him momentarily.

He wipes the blood from his face, spins and hits Marshall
with a devastating right cross. Marshall reels back against
the wall, and Vlad follows, shoving the MP5 into Marshall's
throat. Marshall grabs the gun near the trigger...

*			 VLAD

Don't move or I'll blow your head off.

		MARSHALL
	I don't think so.

Marshall presses the saftey button on the gun with his
forefinger, then knees Vlad in the balls. Viad pulls the
trigger repeatedly as he goes down, but nothing happens.

Instead he comes up swinging his gun butt against Marshall's
face. Like a bat hitting a baseball, it knocks Marshall into
the medical closet. The gun goes flying, skittering

UNDERNEATH A CABINET.

Marshall pulls himself up the shelves trying to keep his
legs from buckling. Vlad grabs some I.V. tubing and wraps it
around Marshall's neck. Marshall struggles for breath, clawing
at the tube.

HE SPOTS A DEFIBRILLATOR, REACHES AND SWITCHES IT ON. LOW-

pitched hum and beeping.

Marshall pulls his head forward, straining against the plastic
tubing. Then slams back into Vlad's head. Viad releases his
grip just for a moment...

The beeping becomes a steady whine.

... but a moment is all Marshall needs as he grabs the def
ib's CARDIAC PADDLES, turns, and SLAMS them on either side
of Vlad's head.

Vlad convulses from the shock for a full five seconds... his
eyeballs roll, his hair stands on end.  then he collapses to
the floor.

		MARSHALL
	Clear.

Marshall catches his breath for a moment. Pulls open his
shirt. Beneath it he wears a bulletproof Kevlar vest. He
lifts the vest and a half-dozen angry welts have blossomed
across his skin. The stuff may be bulletproof, but each of
Vlad's shots sting like a motherfucker.

EXT. CORRIDOR.

Nevsky walks down the corridor. Sees that Vlad is away from
his post.

		NEVSKY
	Viad?

*       INT. STAFF CABIN.

Marshall opens the medical cabinets, rifling through them.

Pulls out hypodermics, adrenalin, rubbing alcohol... arming

himself.

		NEVSKY (O.S.)
	Vlad? Vlad?

EXT. CORRIDOR.

Nevsky works his way up the corridor, peeking in rooms.

As he enters the...

INT. STAFF CABIN.

he's blinded by the high intensity surgical lights.

Marshall cracks a tank of anesthesia across Nevsky's heu
Nevsky goes down.

Marshall rips Nevsky's MP5 off of him. Holds it to Nevsky's
throat.

		MARSHALL
	Where are th*y? fly tamily, the
	crew.... where are they?

Nevsky says nothing.

The conference room, right? Right?

Marshall jerks him to his feet.

		MARSHALL
	o'11 unlocli the door for me or I'll
	kill you.

INT. CORRIDOR -

Marshall walks flevsky toward the mj vonteronve room3 As
they pass the stairs to the upper deck, Nevsky breaks away.

		NEVSKY
	KORSKUNOV!

Marshall fires. Killing him.

		SHIT1
	INT. CORRIDOR.

No time for remorse. Marshall tries the Main conference Room
door. Locked. He knows the others will be coming so he
flattens himself against the corridor wall. Trains his gun
on the stairs.

Just as the terrorists descend, Marshall squeezes off a few
rounds. The terrorists edge back up the steps, returning
fire.

Marshall checks his clip, not many bullets left. He fires
off a few more shots to buy some time then ducks round the
corner and pulls out the bottle of rubbing alcohol and some
gauze.

The terrorists seize the moment of quiet, descending the
stairs to take position.

Marshall lights the gauze fuse of his new made Molatov

cocktail and throws it down the corridor. The bottle crashes
into a BALL OF FLAME. Catching Bazylev on fire. He yells,
drops and rolls. FIRE SUPPRESSING FOAM immediately sprays
down from overhead.

		KORSHUNOV
	Go after him.

Serge hops Bazylev's burning body and heads down the corridor,
looking for this new wildcard. Korshunov grabs a fire
extinguisher from the galley and attends to Bazylev.

INT. CORRIDOR, TOWARD THE REAR OF AIR FORCE ONE.

Marshall retreats behind a divider. Sees Serge coming. Fires
a few rounds, then retreats to the next divider. Working
toward the rear of the plane.

Serge picks his way through the rear cabins, advancing
cautiously.

INT. REAR GALLEY/BATHROOMS.

Marshall's out of plane. Nowhere to hide in the galley.

Marshall eyes the bathrooms, doors flapping.

FOLLOWING SERGE...

as he reaches the rear galley and bathrooms. Marshall is
nowhere to be seen. But the bathroom doors are all closed.

		SERGE
	I know you're in there. Come on out.
		(a few beats)
	Okay. Have it your way.

Time for a deadly version of the shell game. serge fires
several rounds into the first closed bathroom door. The
bullets slice easily through the thin doors. He kicks the
riddled door open. The stall is empty.

Serge moves to the next one. Same procedure. It's empty.

Moves to the last bathroom, confident he's got him. He wails
with his MP5, turning the hatch into swiss cheese. Waits a
beat, then...

Kicks it in. It's empty too.

Serge looks around. Where the hell is this guy?

		KORSHUNOV (O.S.)
		(calling down)
	Serge?

Serge reluctantly returns to his group.

INT. LOWER GALLEY, BAGGAGE LEVEL -

Marshall tumbles out of the cramped galley dumbwaiter,
breathing heavy. He slumps against the bulkhead and slides

down to the ground.

He takes a moment to pull himself together, to clear his
head. He hefts the MP5, refamiliarizing himself with the
weight and texture of a gun. He checks the clip. Only a
handfull of rounds left. He slaps it back in and switches
from automatic fire to single-shot then pantomimes firing.

		MARSHALL
	The NRA'll love this.

Looking down the barrel of the gun, he notices bins loaded
with luggage.

INT. OFFICE - NIGWR

Stoli Petrov on the phone, behind his large oak desk.

		PETROV
	I understand your dilemma, Vice
	President Chandler. But unless you
	can confirm that your President is
	indeed a hostage, I cannot release
	Stravanavitch. If Marshall is dead,
	no good will come of meeting this
	demand. We both know he would agree.

V.P. CHANDLER (V.0. PHONE)

But the First Lady...

		PETROV
	*.. is not a First Lady if her
	husband's been killed. Then she's a
	civilian. And I can't release him
	for a civilian. Do you see my point?

INT. WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM - DAY

Each member of the crisis team is either on the phone or
huddled with staff. A secure fax machine spits out papers
which Lee slips into files.

Lee interrupts Chandler on the phone.

		LEE
	Madame Vice president. We have an
	options paper.  chandler takes the
	options paper, waves off Lee, and
	reads it as she talks.

		V.P. CHANDLER
	Yes. You've made yourself quite clear.

		PETROV (V.0.)
	But I will deploy forces to a staging
	area near the Turkmenistan border.
	When you have more information, we
	can decide how to proceed.

		V.P. CHANDLER
	By then I'll be President.

Chandler hangs up the phone.

		V.P. CHANDLER
		(of f options paper)
	I don't like any of these. from, did
	you brief General Northwood?

Northwood pops out of his huddle.

GENERAL NORTHWOOD

I'M INCLINED TO TRY THIS PART -

Anticipate their landing site and get strike teams in place.

		V.P. CHANDLER
	Can we do that?

		GENERAL NORTHWOOD
	We've got four hours before they
	make it into Turkienistan airspace.

I've got a satellite passing overhead in twenty minutes. We
can narrow down the landing site choices based on runway
length and any unusual activity.  With luck we'll only have
to capture three or four sites.

		V.P. CHANDLER
	But they start executing hostages in

FORTY FIVE MINUTES.  -

		GENERAL NORTHWOOD
	I hate to be pragmatic, but they'll
	sacrifice pawns before kings. It may
	take them some time to kill their
	way up to senior staff.

		V.P. CHANDLER
	Okay. Also, I want you to put our
	bases in Turkey on alert, and have
	the Kitty Hawk prepare a retaliatory
	air strike.

*		        DEAN

Madame Vice-President...

		V.P. CHANDLER
	I've not discounted your theory Hr.

Dean...

		DEAN
	No... I got the new numbers from our
	gamers. They believe that there's
	only an eight percent chance that
	the President is still alive.

		V.P. CHANDLER
	Eight percent is better than zero.

Oh shit... what is that?

Chandler refers to a monitor in the rear of the room.

CNN, the omnipresent player on the world political stage,
broadcasts video from Ramstein Air Base.

		GENERAL GREELY
	That's trouble.

CNN REPORTER (V.0. T.V.)

*.. the Presidential Aircraft was enroute from Moscow when
it began its mayday hail. But in a startling turn of events,
the seemingly out of control plane aborted its landing and
took off again. We haven't been able to confirm its status
or whether or not the first family was onboard at the time.

		V.P. CHANDLER
	Would someone get the Press Secretary!

		AIDE
	He's been holding on line four.

EXT. SKY - NIGHT

Air Force One, lit up by moonlight.

INT. CORRIDOR.

The fire is extinguished. Zedeck squats over Nevsky's body.

Gibbs and Serge maintain a defensive position, guns ready.

Bazylev emerges from the Senior staff Conference room. He
shakes his head "no". Korshunov nods and furrows his brow.

		KORSHUNOV
	Who did this?

		GIBBS
	We checked the manifest. Everyone
	was accounted for.

		KORSHUNOV
	A secret service agent. It must be.

Wounded but alive. Serge, Bazylev...

Find him.

Serge and Bazylev lock and load, head off in separate
directions.

		KORSHUNOV
	The conference room is no longer
	secure. We'll take the First Lady
	and the girl up top where we can
	keep a closer eye on them.

INT. MAIN CONFERENCE ROOM -

The hostages have torn up a section of carpeting. Caidwell
and Shepherd examine the floor. Smooth sheets of steel riveted
together. Pointless.

		MAJOR CAL DWELL
	We're not getting out that way.

The door swings open and Gibbs and Korshunov enter. They
spots the ripped up carpeting.

		KORSHUNOV
	Admirable, but you're wasting your
	time.
		(beat)
	Mrs. Marshall, would you and your
	daughter please come here.

They don't move. Korshunov raises his gun, points it a
Shepherd's head.

		KORSHUNOV
	Now, or he dies, please.

		ROSE
	Come on, Alice.

		ALICE
	I'm scared.

Doherty steps forward. Shepherd tries to pull him back, to
no

*       avail.

		DOHERTY
	You've got the better part of the
	White House locked in this room, you
	know. If you want to negotiate, we're
	the ones to do it with.

Korshunov SHOOTS Doherty through the head. Screams from some
of the hostages. Korshunov squeezes off a few shots to quiet
everyone.

		KORSHUNOV
	Mrs. Marshall. Alice. If you please.

Rose turns to the other hostages.

		ROSE
	It's okay. Do what you're told. It's
	okay. We'll be okay.

She locks eyes with Caldwell. HKeep working.N He nods.

INT. REAR BAGGAGE HOLD -

The President hunts through luggage. Overturned garment bags
and suitcases around him, belongings littered all over the
bulkhead. He sifts through heaps of clothing and finally
recovers what he's been looking for...

A CELLULAR PHONE...

He flips it open, starts to dial... but freezes.

		MARSHALL
	Goddamnit.

He can't remember the number. He dials...

CLOSE.ON PHONE -555-1212... Information.

The phone rings...

INT. FORWARD BAGGAGE HOLD.

Bazylev, moving like a commando, slowly and methodically
works his way into the lower galley.

INT. REAR BAGGAGE HOLD -

Marshall. Finally, the phone picks up.

		VOICE (O.S. PHONE)
	Information. How can I assist you?

		MARSHALL
	Washington D.C.?

		VOICE
	Yes, sir. Can I help you?

		MARSHALL
	Yes, the number for the White House.

INT. PILOT'S REST AREA - NIGHT

The rest area consists of a couple of bunks behind the

cockpit area, still soiled black from the earlier C-4
explosion. Korshunov pours a cup of coffee and offers it to
Alice.

		ALICE
	I don't drink coffee.

		KORSHUNOV
	You must be tired. It'll wake you
	up.

		ALICE
	No, thank you. The gunfire did that.

Gibbs wraps Rose's hands behind her back with duct tape.

		ROSE
	Leave my daughter alone.

		KORSHUNOV
	Or you will do what, Mrs. Marshall?
		(beat, he chuckles)
	But I admire your courage. Your
	husband, on the other hand...

		ROSE
	What do you know of my husband?

		KORSHUNOV
	I know he left you behind.

		ROSE
	My husband is a very courageous man.

		KORSHUNOV
	Your husband is a coward. He sends
	soldiers half-way around the world
	to steal a man from his home in the
	middle of the night.

Alice sits up, attentive.

		ALICE
	You're one of Stravanavitch's men.

		KORSHUNOV
	So, you study world events, little
	one. That's good for a girl your
	age.

		ALICE
	Yeah, I study world events. Five
	thousand Turkienistan Muslims were
	slaughtered in Stravanvitch's
	cleansings... along with 15 American
	school kids. You know hQw I studied
	that. I went to their funerals with
	my dad. I met their parents.

		KORSHUNOV
	Smart for your age, eh? Top of your
	class? Tell me, do you know what the
	word "propaganda" means?

		ALICE
	Yeah. Do you know what the word
	"asshole" means.

		ROSE
	Alice!

Rose doesn't know whether to be pissed at Alice or proud of
her. Korshunov smiles, nods his head and lifts his gun.

		KORSHUNOV
	Yes, I have heard that word.

He aims his gun at Alice.

		KORSHUNOV
	Yes, I am an asshole.

A long beat, the Korshunov lovers the gun.

		KORSHUNOV
	Your father is a reasonable man.

Once he hears our simple demand, I'm sure he will acquiesce.
For your sake.

Korshunov smiles. Gibbs grabs Alice's hands and pulls them
behind her back. Begins wrapping them with the tape.

INT. MAIN CABING, REAR GALLEY.

Serge searches through the galley cabinets, spots the galley
dumbwaiter. Now he knows where his quarry went.

He angrily grabs a service cart and shoves it into the
dumbwaiter, disabling it.

INT. GANGWAY -

Bazylev hears the beeps of a phone dialing. He moves toward
the aft portal of the gangway.

INT. REAR BAGGAGE HOLD -

Marshall waits as the phone rings...

INT. WHITE HOUSE, SWITCHBOARD ROOM - DAY

A chipper woman in her mid-20s picks up the call.

		SWITCHBOARD
	White House switchboard. How may I
	direct your call.

MT. REAR BAGGAGE HOLD -

		MARSHALL
		(hushed urgency)
	Okay listen, listen carefully. This
	is an emergency call from Air Force
	One. Who's there? Is the Vice-
	President there?

INT. WHITE HOUSE, SWITCHBOARD ROOM - DAY

		SWITCHBOARD
	who can I say is calling?

		MARSHALL (0.S. PHONE)
	This is the President.

		SWITCHBOARD
	Yeah, right.

		MARSHALL
	Don't cut me off. This is an
	emergency.

		SWITCHBOARD
	Sir, the President does not call
	this particular number. So whoever
	you are get a life, before I have
	this call traced.

		MARSHALL
	You don't understand. This is an
	emergency. Let me talk to anyone.

The switchboard operator thinks for a moment. Maybe she can
have some fun with this nutcase.

		SWITCHBOARD
	Okay... if you're the President,
	when's your wife's birthday?

		MARSHALL
	Look lady, I don't have time for
	games. Just put the....

		SWITCHBOARD
	Thank you for calling the white
	House...

INT. REAR BAGGAGE HOLD -

		MARSHALL
	No. no. no. Wait. Wait.

Bazylev appears behind Marshall. Raises his gun.

		MARSHALL
	I should know this.

INT. WHITE HOUSE SWITCHBOARD ROOM -

		MARSHALL (V.0.)
	It's June.

Gunfire in the background.

		SWITCHBOARD
	Sir? Are you there? Sir? Sir?

Her face says N. The Switchboard operator pulls out a call
sheet and finds a number.

INT. REAR BAGGAGE HOLD -

On the phone, lying open on a heap of clothing.

Bazylev points the machine gun at Marshall's head.

		BAZ YLEV
	Hands away from your weapon.

Marshall doesn't move, his np5 hanging at his waist... his
hand inches from it.

		BAZYLEV
	Come now. You don't want to die.

Marshall... with no options... slowly moves his hands away
from the gun.

		BAZYLEV
	On your knees...

		PHONE (O.S.)
	Hello. Is anyone there?

Bazylev motions Marshall to get on his knees. Marshall
complies.

		BAZYUV
	What's that in your shirt? Open it.

Marshall pulls his shirt aside revealing his Kevlar vest.

		BAZYLEV
	Take it off. Now.

INT. WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM - DAY

Chandler on the phone. An aide waves, trying to get her
attention.

		V.P. CHANDLER
	My intention is not to escalate the
	situation, but it's a contigency
	that must be considered. Hang on...
		(to Aide)
	What?

		AIDE
	The switchboard says that someone
	called in claiming to be the
	President, then she heard gunfire.

Caller's gone, but the line's still active.

		DEAN
	Could be some crank watching CNN.

		AIDE
	No sir. Trace confirms the call is
	Coming from a White House staff
	cellular account.

		V.P. CHANDLER
	Put it through down here.
		(into phone)
	Hang on, Toni.

The call comes in on speaker phone, distorted muffled voices
and the whine of an aircraft in the background.

		V.P. CHANDLER
	What's going on in the background?

Can we hear what's going on?

Dean picks up a phone.

		DEAN
	Max, get me Willis.

INT. NATIONAL SECURITY AGENCY,  LISTENING POST - DAY

WILLIS, a grossly overweight man in his late forties
surrounded by a monolith of high-tech, starts working his
console.

		WILLIS
	Tracking... Intercepting call... Got
	it. Ten seconds, Mr. Dean.

Audio waveforms appear over Willis' console. He implements
digital filtering routines, cleaning up the sounds.

INT. WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM - DAY

The group listens intently. The call modulates, distorts,
dissolves... then clarifies.

		BAZYLEV (V.0.)
	Hands... hands behind your head, Mr.

President.

		V.P. CHANDLER
	It's him. He is alive.

		BAZYLEV
	I'm going to take your weapon now,
	and then I'm going to take you
	Upstairs to join the others.

Understand?

		DEAN
	Christ, they have him.

		BAZYLEV
	And if you make any sudden moves, I
	will not hesitate to shoot.

		GENERAL NORTHWOOD
	Maybe they don't have him yet.

Northwood stares up at the tactical board. Air Force One...
surrounded by the F-l5s.

		GENERAL NORTHWOOD
	And maybe we aren't so helpless.

General Northwood picks up a secure phone and dials.

		GENERAL NORTPNOOD
	General Greely, Air Force One has
	automatic countermeasures, right?

		GENERAL GREELY
	Everything we own is in that plane.

		GENERAL NORTINOOD
	So a single missile launched from a
	distance should be a mere distraction.

		GENERAL GREELY
	Theoretically.

		GENERAL NORTHWOOD
		(into phone)
	Ramutein Tower Control, please.

		GENERAL GREELY
		(getting it)
	But the effect could be jarring.

		GENERAL NORTHWOOD
	Exactly. Ramstein? General
	Northwood... Patch me through to
	your fighters. Madame Vice
	President... with your permission?

		V.P. CHANDLER
	Do it.

INT. AFT STORAGE COMPARTMENT -

Marshall on his knees, hands behind his head. Bazylev, his
automatic pressed against Marshall's forehead, disarms
Marshall before stepping away. He slings Marshall's MP5 over
his own neck. Studies Marshall a beat.

		BAZ YLEV
	So you're the President. Somehow, I
	thought you'd be smaller.

Marshall stares straight ahead tn silent defiance. Bazylev
kicks him in the gut. Marshall doubles over, wheezing.

		BAZYLEV
	Not so powerful now, eh? No aides to
	advise you, no secret service to
	protect you, no armies to command.

Bazylev grabs Marshall's hair and tugs his head back. He
holds Marshall with his eyes.

		BAZYLEV
	You'll suffer for what you've done.

		MARSHALL
	*		      So will you.

Bazylev slams Marshall's face against his knee. Marshall
slumps forward.

		BAZYLEV
	Up. Get up now!

Marshall slowly rises to his feet. Bazylev swings wide around
him.

		BAZYLEV
	You will walk ahead... slowly. Do
	you understand?
		(no response)
	Do you understand!

		MARSHALL
	Do you know what's going to happen
	to you because of this? Do you know
	what the world will do?

		BAZYLEV
	Nothing. The world will do nothing.

That is what they've always done.

INT. MAIN CABIN, FORWARD GALLEY -

Serge seals off the second dumbwaiter.

EXT. SKY - NIGHT
63.

The Squadron of F-15 Eagles hover around Air Force One.

		COL. CARLTON (V.0.)
	You want me to what?

		GENERAL NORTPNOOD (V.0.)
	You heard the order. And do not, I
	repeat, do not take your best shot.

		COL. CARLTON
	Roger, sir. Okay boys, clear the
	deck. I have been ordered to engage
	Air Force One.

EXT. SKY - NIGHT

The other airplanes flare out giving distance to the Jumbo
Jet. Canton's plane drops back.

		COL. CARLTON
	Assuming attack posture. Targeting
	computer is on.

INT. CARLTON'S COCKPIT - NIGHT

On TARGETING COMPUTER - Graphics: As it acquires Air Force
One.

		COL. CARLTON
	Target is acquired. I have good tone
	CLOSE ON: The flight stick. Carlton's
	finger over the firing button. He
	hesitates.

		COL. CARLTON
	They're gonna court martial me for
	this.

INT. AIR FORCE ONE, GANGWAY -

Hands behind his head, Marshall walks in front of Bazylev,
an MP5 pressed against his neck.

INT. F-15 EAGLE COCKPIT - NIGHT

Carlton pulls the trigger.

EXT. F-15 EAGLE - NIGHT

An air-to-air missile detatches from under the Eagle. Its
tail ignites in flame.

INT. AIR FORCE ONE COCKPIT - NIGHT

Zedeck monitoring the controls. Situation normal. Then all
hell breaks loose as an entire wall of instrumentation lights
up. Warning bells. Flashing lights.

		ZEDECK
	What is this?

The TACTICAL COUNTERMEASUREs COMPUTER - Springs to life.

High-tech readouts, risk analyses, schematics, and
assessments. Radar tracks the incoming, identifies it.

On Screen:       "Autopilot disengaged"

The plane banks into a dive, throwing Zedeck back against
his chair.

		ZEDECK
	Gibbs! Gibbs! Get in here.

On screen:     "Activating countermeasures"

EXT. SICY - NIGHT

With no oneat the controls, Air Force One goes into a sharp
sloping dive.

INT. GANGWAY, AIR FORCE ONE -

Bazylev, thrown off balance, tries to keep his gun trained
on Marshall.

		BAZYLEV
	Don't move!

EXT. SKY - NIGHT

The missile follows a wide arc toward the banking plane.

INT. AFO, COCKPIT -

Gibbs slides into the pilot's seat, attempts to regain
control.

		GIBBS
	What the hell's going on?

		ZEDECK
	The Americans fired at us.

The Tactical Countermeasures Computer:

"Electronic Jamming has failed Target acquired"

Out the cockpit window, the brightly burning tail of the
missile closing on them.

		GIBBS
	Why would they fire on us?

The Tactical Countermeasures Computer:

		      "Missile Closing:

Metallic Chaff Burst Standing by:"

The computer counts down from eight... seven...

EXT. SKY - NIGHT

The missile screams toward the jumbo jet, a slow easy target.

INT. COCKPIT - NIGHT

		ZEDECK
	Do something.

Five... Four...

		GIBBS
	I'm not a combat pilot.

Three... two....

		ZEDECK
	Shit!

EXT. AIR FORCE ONE - NIGHT

Small bays doors slip open below the aircraft. A cloud of
small metallic narticles sprays out of the bottom of the
aircraft.

INT. COCKPIT -

On the faces of the terrorists, as the missile comes right
at them.

Then the missile veers downward.

The Tactical Countermeasures Computer:

		    "Missile Neutralized"

EXT. SKY - MIGHT

The missile dives into the swarm of descending chaff and
DETONATES, lighting up the evening sky. Red flames reflect
against the silver-grey clouds.

INT. AIR FORCE ONE, VARIOUS SHOTS - NIGHT

The shock wave hits the aircraft.

Lights flicker and the plane rocks side to side.

HOSTAGES are bounced around the conference room.

INT. GANGWAY -

Marshall and Bazylev are slammed against the ceiling and
then the floor.

Marshall seizes the moment. Grabs Bazylev's gun. The two
struggle and Bazylez instinctively pulls the trigger. A burst
of richocheting gunfire sparks across the bulkhead.

The turbulence worsens. Bazylev manages to wrest away the
rifle, but the plane pulls into a climb, sending Bazylev
tumbling down the gangway into the rear baggage hold.

Marshall manages to pull himself up the grating and into the
galley. He's free, for the moment.

INT. AFO, COCKPIT.

Gibbs steadies the plane as the shock wave from the explosion
*        subsides.

		GIBBS
	We're okay.

Korshunov examines the Tactical Countermeasures Computer.

		KORSHUNOV
	Remarkable aircraft. Remarkable.

		GIBBS
	why did they do that?

		KORSHUNOV
	Psychology. They're trying to unnerve
	us.

		GIBBS
	Well it worked.

Korshunov smiles and puts his hand on Gibbs shoulder.

		KORSHUNOV
	Relax, my friend. Apparently they
	cannot harm us. Even if they wanted
	to.  rNT. FRONT GALLEY.
	67.

Marshall Struggles to assemble the hypodermic and the
container of adrenalin.

INT. REAR BAGGAGE HOLD.

Bazylev pulls to his feet, heads back down the gangway.

INT. FRONT GALLEY.

Marshall greets Bazylev with a spray of hot coffee from the
Simmering pot as he enters. Bazylev covers up, but the spray
sears him pretty bad. He yells in pain, turning.

Marshall springs, imbedding the hypodermic needle into
Bazylev's neck. A full dose of adrenalin. Bazylev pulls the
empty needle from his neck. Marshall steps back, waiting for
a reaction.

A pregnant pause as they both wait to see what happens.

Then Bazylev smiles and slowly turns toward Marshall.

Marshall backs away as Bazylev levels his gun.

He fires once, hitting Marshall in the arm. Marshall winces
off the pain.

		BAZYLEV
		(disgust)
	The leader of the free world.

He backs Marshall against a wall and holds him in his sights.

But he doesn't shoot. His breathing becomes faster and faster
as the adrenalin takes hold. Building... building... He
screams and clutches at his throat.

His eyes spin back and then his heart explodes.

Bazylev is caught frozen, suspended in a moment of disbelief.

Death reflex. He fires off several rounds from the gun as he
collapses.

Marshall waits a beat, half-expecting Bazylev to rise. He
slowly approaches the body and retrieves the KP5.

EXT. SKY - NIGHT

The F-lSs pull back into formation around the Jumbo Jet.

INT. REAR BAGGAGE HOLD -

Marshall retrieves the phone, then wedges himself behind a
waste storage tank, out of view.

INT. PILOT'S REST AREA -

Rose and Alice On the bunk. Alice's eyes are Watering.

Korshunov examines tOPographic maps in the adjacent M1C.c.
and speaks into a phone in Russian.

		ALICE
	Mom?

		ROSE
	Yes dear?

		ALICE
	I'm sorry I was so mean to you
	earlier.

Rose smiles sadly.

		ROSE
	I know, sweetie. I know.
		(beat)
	You're being very brave.

Alice nods. She's trying.

INT. MAIN CABIN.

Serge finishes his sweep of the upper level.

		SERGE
		(to Zedeck)
	He's not up here. I'm going down
	below.

INTERCUT:

INT. REAR BAGGAGE HOLD/INT. WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM

Marshall rips his sleeve off, swabs the blood off his arm.

Bazylev's bullet took out a good chunk of flesh when it grazed
him.

		MARSHALL
	Did they say anything about my family?

		V.P. CHANDLER
	They're still alive, but the loyalists
	plan to start killing hostages in
	forty minutes.

		MARSHALL
	Then tell me there's a rescue
	operation underway.

Marshall opens a travel bottle of Vodka and pours it over
the wound. He winces from the pain.

V.p CHANDLER		 69.

I think we're okay, sir. flow that we know You're alive we
can force Petrov to release Stravanavitch.

MARSpari Don't tell me you plan to give in to these fuckers.

GENERAL NORmwOOD We plan to do whatever it takes to keep you
alive, sir.

		V.P. CHANDLER
	and if that means negotiating...

		MARSHALL
	You know my policy. We don't negotiate
	with terrorists. If we start now,
	all of America becomes a target.

		V.P. CHANDLER
	But this is different, sir. You're
	the President.

*			 MARSHALL

And what happens when Stravanavitch is freed and discovers
he's got the President? You think for a second that that
crazy bastard is just gonna turn me over? He'll ask for the
goddamn moon before he's done.

		V.P. CHANDLER
	Please, Mr. President. You're going
	to get yourself killed. Is that your
	solution?

		MARSHALL
	Freeing Stravanavitch is gonna get
	tens of thousands killed. I can't
	live with that.
		(somewhat resigned)
	I'm not royalty. I'm an elected
	official and the integrity of the
	office of the President is infinitely
	more important than the man who holds
	that office.
		(beat)
	We don't negotitate. Not as long as
	I'm President. Is that understood?

A long silence, then...

YES SIR.      CHANDLER

		MARSHALL
	flow, is there a rescue operation
	under way or not?

Lee shakes his head at Chandler, signalling "don't tell."

		LEE
	He's not on a secure line.

MARSHAlj Whoever said that, shut up. Walter, are you there?

		DEAN
	I'm here, Mr. President.

		MARSHALL
	Where's the cavalry?

		DEAN
	We can't do anything until that plane
	lands. And when it does land, sir,
	it's going to be in hostile *
	territory. To be perfectly honest,
	we don't know what the hell to do.

It's going to take a miracle to figure this one out.

A long beat. We hold on Marshall's determined face.

		MARSHALL
	I'll see what I can do.

INT. GALLEY.

Serge comes across Bazylev. Checks for any sign of life.

Stone cold dead. He looks around and grips his gun a little
tighter as he backs out of the room.

INT. MAIN CABIN.

Serge closes the stair access panel to the baggage deck.

Sealing Marshall off.

INT. MISSION COMMUNICATIONS CENTER - NIGHT

Serge comes trotting up the stairs and collects new clips.

		SERGE
	Bazylev is dead.

Korshunov swallows hard...

AND THE

		SERGE
	Trapped On the baggage deck. Let me
	go finish him.

		KORSHUNOV
	No. He has the advantage down there.

Bring me a hostage. A woman.

INT. FORWARD BAGGAGE HOLD.

Marshall sees that the stairway hatch has been sealed.

INT. LOWER GALLEY - NIGHT

Marshall hits the button for the dumbwaiter. The dumbwaiter
begins to descend then snags on the service cart. Its motor
grind to a halt. Marshall slumps dQwn. His hopes dashed.

Nothing to do now but wait.

INT. MAIN CONFERENCE ROOM.

Serge looks over the crowd of hostages like a bouncer at a
hip dance club. His eyes fall on Maria Mitchell.

		SERGE
	You. Come with me.

INT. LOWER GALLEY.

Marshall, seated on the floor. The cabinet next to him is
stacked with packs of complimentary cigarettes, all with the
seal of the President.

		MARSHALL
	What the hell...

He opens up a pack and puts the cigarette in his mouth. He
snags one of the Presidential lighters, tries to light it
several times but it only sparks. XC shakes it. It's out of
tial. He tosses it aside and reaches for a book of matches,
but he FREEZES in mid-reach. A thought occurs to him.

		MARSHALL
		(murmuring)
	Out of fuel.

INT. FORWARD BAGAGE HOLD - NIGHT

Marshall, lacking a screwdriver, levers open the hatch to
the Avionics compartment with the barrel of his gun.

RUT. AVIONICS COMPARTMENT - NIGHT

Marshall sees the stacks of panels, piping, Wiring,
electronics.

		MARSHALL
	Come on, where are you...

He searches up and down.

INT. MISSION COMMUNICATIONS CENTER - NIGHT

Serge leads Maria Mitchell up the stairway. Korshunov nods.

		KORSHUNOV
	Ms. Mitchell. Hello again.

Maria is scared, she says nothing. She looks over to the
First Lady and Alice.

		ROSE
	Maria.

Korshunov switches on the airplane's P.A.

		KORSHUNOV
	*		Please tell me
	your name.

		MITCHELL
		(frightened)
	Maria... Maria Mitchell.

		KORSHUNOV
	And what is it you do, Ms. Mitchell.

Maria Mitchell's voice echos over throughout Air Force One.

INT. AVIONICS COMPARTMENT.

Marshall halts his search to listen.

		MITCHELL (V.0.)
	I'm responsible for Press Relations
	for the Flight Office.

		KORSHUNOV (V.0.)
	How are your fellow hostages feeling,
	Ms. Mitchell?

		MITCHELL
	Scared. We're scared.

INT. MISSION COMMUNICATIONS CENTER - NIGHT

Rose cradles Alice, both of them looking away, as Korshunov
raises his gun, pointing it at Mitchell.

		KORSHUNOV
	And why are you scared?

		MITCHEL*L
	Because... because I don't want to
	die.

INT. MAIN CONFERENCE ROOM.

The hostages, listening.

		KORSHUNOV
	And what am I doing at this very
	moment.

INT. AVIONICS COMPARTMENT - NIGHT

Marshall listens, helpless to do anything.

		MITCHELL
	You're pointing a gun at me.

INT. MISSION COMMUNICATIONS CENTER -

		KORSHUNOV
	Very good. Thank you, Ms. Mitchell.

Did you hear her? She said I'm pointing a gun at her.

INT. AVIONICS COMPARTMENT -

		KORSHUNOV
	Now, to the secret service agent in
	the baggage deck. I'm giving you ten
	seconds to surrender, or this women
	will die.

Marshall's eyes widen.

		KORSHUNOV
	One...

Oh shit. Marshall tries to decide what to do.

		KORSHUNOV
	Two...

He climbs out of the avionics compartment and hurries to the
front baggage compartment.

		KORSHUNOV
	Three...

INT. MAIN CABIN.

Zedeck and Serge wait by the stairway hatch.

		KORSHUNOV
	Four...

INT. MAIN CONFERENCE ROOM.

Hostages wait, expectantly.

		KORSHUNOV
	Five...

INT. FRONT BAGGAGE HOLD.

Marshall frozen near the bottom of the steps. To go up would
be to betray everything he believes in, and lose any chance
to save the others. But if he stays...

		KORSHUNOV
	Six...

INT. MISSION COMMUNICATIONS CENTER.

Tears stream down Maria Mitchell's face. She's trying so
hard to be brave in front of Rose and Alice.

		KORSHUNOV
	Seven...

INT. FRONT BAGGAGE HOLD.

For Marshall, this is the hardest decision of his life. His
face a mask of anguish as he wrestles with his conscience.

		KORSHUNOV
	Eight...

He starts toward the stairs.

INT. MISSION COMMUNICATIONS CENTER.

Korshunov looking down the barrel of the gun.

		KORSHUNOV
	Nine...

INT. FRONT BAGGAGE HOLD.

It takes every bit of training and will to stop Marshall
from going up those stairs. He knows what's going to happen.
He closes his eyes tight as if that will stop it from
happening.

		KORSHUNOV
	Ten...

A long silent beat. Then... BAAAAM!

		MARSHALL
	NO!

Marshall sinks to to his knees.

		MARSHALL
	Aw, Jesus.

INT. MAIN CONFERENCE ROOM.

Hostages hold each other tight for comfort. A mournful silence
fills the room.

INT. FRONT BAGGAGE HOLD.

Marshall, silhouetted in the half light, craddles his head
head in his hands. The shaft of light disappears as the main
cabin hatch closes, sealing him off once again.

		KORSFL3NOV (V.0.)
	I'll give you a few minutes to think
	about that one and then we'll try
	again. Perhaps soon I will choose
	somebody important.

		MARSHALL
		(to himself)
	She was important.

INT. MISSION COMMUNICATIONS CENTER.

zedeck and Serge drag the dead woman out of the compartment.

Alice sobs quietly.

		ROSE
	Do you have to be so brutal?

		KORSHUNOV
	Yes

		ROSE
	Why? Do you enjoy it?

		KORSHUNOV
	I neither enjoy nor dislike. I do
	what is necessary.

		ROSE
	How can you? I mean they're people.

*
76.

		KORSHUNOV
	But they are not ny people. You look
	at me as if I am a monster, but answer
	me this -- when your planes bombed
	the oil fields of Iraq, did You cry
	for those dark skinned men whose
	names you do not know and who's faces
	You will never see? Did You cry for
	their wives and children. They were
	people too, yes... but they were not
	your people.

		ROSE
	That was war.

		KORSHUNOV
	So is this.
		(beat)
	Come now, you're upsetting the little
	one.

		ALICE
	The woman you shot. She was my friend.

		KORSHUNOV
	That's the way of the world, little
	one. Didn't they teach you that in
	school?

INT. FORWARD BAGGAGE HOLD.

Marshall crosses back to the avionics compartment, talking
on the phone.

		VOICE
		(through static)
	Chief Mechanic, 87th Air. How can I
	help you?

		MARSHALL
	You can talk me through an emergency
	fuel dump.

INT. MAIN CONFERENCE ROOM.

		MAJOR CALDWELL
	Led off to slaughter one at a time.

Next time I say we rush `em. They can't shoot us all.

		SHEPHERD
	They can shoot enough of us.

*
77.

		MAJOR CALDWELL
	If we don't act, they'll kill US all
	eventually Who's with me?

Several of the hostages raise their hands.

INT. AFO'S MAINTENANCE HANGER/ANDREWS AIR FORCE BASE - DAY

The Chief Mechanic has Air Force One schematics open in front
of him. He and his staff are huddled around them.

		CHIEF MECHANIC
	Do you see the maintenance panel?

		MARSHALL
	Got it.

		CHIEF MECHANIC
	Pop it open. There should be a red
	switch, toggle it up.

		MARSHALL
	Okay, it's on. We've got some
	indicator lights here.

		CHIEF MECHANIC
	Okay, you're aerated. To dump the
	fuel you have to close the circuit
	for the pump. There's no switch in
	Avionics so you'll have to cross the
	wires. There should be five wires,
	just to your left. Do you see them?

INT. AVIONICS COMPARTMENT - NIGHT

Marshall finds the wires: red, white, blue, green and yellow.

		MARSHALL
	Got `en.

Static blankets the conversation.

		CHIEF MECHANIC
	Okay, hang on. Let me double check

here, because if you get the wrong ones, you'll cut the engine
feeds and stall the plane.

		MARSHALL
	I'll wait.

The static worsens.

		CHIEF MECHANIC
	First... cut... green wire.

Marshall, Using a kitchen knife, slices the green wire. Heavy
static. The phone beeps... lOsing batteries.

		MARSHALL
	It's cut.

		CHIEF MECHANIC
	cross it...  The static overwhelms
	the voice, then cuts out.

		MARSHALR'
	Hello? Hello? Goddamnit.

Static comes roaring back and garbled voices...

MARSHAlj Hello? Are YOU there?

Dead. Marshall tries to activate it again.

MARSHAIJi Hello? Hello?

Nothing. He tosses the dead phone aside.

Marshall stares. Cross the green wires with the... what?

Red, white, blue... or the yellow. His choice is obvious. He
cuts the yellow wire and crosses it with the green, leaving
the red, white and blue standing.

He waits. The engines continue to groan. He allows himself a
smile.

		MARSHALL
	An emergency landing in friendly
	territory... there's your goddamn
	miracle.

EXT. AIR FORCE ONE - NIGHT

Beneath the plane a trickle of gasoline appears and grows
into a strong steady stream.

INT. FLIGHT DECK - NIGHT

A red warning light flashes on the plane's panel.

		GIBBS
	Goddamnit it. We're losing fuel.

Korshunov crosses to the flight deck.

		KORSHUNOV
	How?

		GIBBS
	Avionics compartment! It's the only
	place. You better get Zedeck down
	there fast Unless, of course, you'd
	rather be a martyr than a savior.

		KORSHUNOV
		(to Zedeck)
	Go! Take Serge.. and watch your backs.

Zedeck nods and dashes out of the cabin.

INT. MAIN CABIN.

Zedeck pulls open the hatch cover to the forward front stairs.
Descends into the dimly lit underneath.

Serge descends right behind Zedeck.

INT. FORWARD BAGGAGE COMPARTMENT - NIGHT

Zedeck, Spooked by the dark shadows, senses he's being
watched.

		ZEDECK
	He's down here. I can feel it.

		SERGE
	Shut up and do your job.

Zedeck hastens toward the Avionics compartment, gun at the
ready. Serge sweeps the area behind.

They hear a metallic clank echo and reverberate around him.

They both check left... right... behind them...

Nothing.

It's creepy being a walking target.

From behind a water storage tank, Marshall watches down the
barrel of his Mp5. With all the equipment in the way, it's
almost impossible to line up a clear shot.

And they're both well armed. He looks toward the stairway
instead.

Zedeck enters the Avionics compartment. Serge takes a
defensive position outside the door.

		ZEDECK (O.S.)
	The valve is shut. This guy sure
	knew what he was doing.

Serge hears a noise and opens tire.
80.

		ZEDECK
	You see him?

		SERGE
	Erring on the side of caution.

INT. AVIONICS COMPARTMENT -

Zedeck opens a panel and rips out some wiring.

		ZEDECK
	I'm going to deactivate the by-pass
	pump. It'll take a minute.

INT. FLIGHT DECK.

Gibbs checks the fuel gauges. They stop falling.

		GIBBS
	We've stopped dumping... but we've
	only got about twenty minutes of
	fuel left.

		KORSHUNOV
	We're not going to make it.

		GIBBS
	Not even close. Hell, we can't even
	make Syria or Iraq.

		KORSHUNOV
	Where are we now?

		GIBBS
	Over the Black Sea. I can probably
	get us to Turkey or Georgia.

		KORSHUNOV
	No! If we land this plane anywhere
	else, we will end up another Entebe.
		(beat)
	The Americans built a super plane
	that flies through mushroom cloud,
	evades missiles and...
		(holding up Maria
		Mitchell's press kit)
	refuels in mid-air. Call the White
	House.

INT. WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM -

Tactical Map: Air Force One over the Black Sea heading south
west toward Turkmenistan.

An Aide holds up a phone.

		AIDE
	It's him again.

INT. MISSION COMMUNICATION CENTER -

Korshunov on the phone.

		KORSHUNOV
	Gentlemen, forgive me for diverting
	you from your little wargames, but
	I've just added another demand to my
	very short list. I assure you it's
	quite reasonable.

INT. WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM -

		KORSHUNOV (V.0. PHONE)
	We need fuel, gentlemen. And we need
	it right now.

Lee whispers to the Vice President.

		LEE
	Finally, we can bargain.

		V.P. CHANDLER
	I'm sure we can strike some sort of
	arrangement. Land the plane and we'll
	trade you hostages for fuel.

		KORSHUNOV
	No. The plane lands when I say, or
	it will crash. The hostages are
	released when I say, or they will
	die.

INT. MISSION COMMUNICATIONS CENTER.

		KORSHUNOV
	Tell me what I want to hear or I
	will execute a member of the senior
	staff, and will continue killing one
	hostage every minute until we crash
	or until a refueling plane arrives.

Murmuring and hushed discussion floats over the airwaves.

A long silence. Korshunov looks toward Alice.

		KORSHUNOV
	Shall I begin by executing the
	President's daughter? She's right
	here.

		ROSE
	No.

		KORSHUNOV
	Say something dear.

		ALICE
	Fuck off, you stupid asshole.

		KORSHUNOV
	It would be a pity to squander such
	a strong personality.

Another several beats of hushed murmuring.

		KORSHUNOV
	Well? What do you say?

V.P. CHANDLER (V.0. PHONE)

Fuel's on its way.

INT. MAIN CABIN.

Serge and Zedeck lower the hatch to the baggage compartment
and seal it. They head up the stairs to the M.C.C.

INT. M.C.C. - NIGHT

Korshunov paces, weighing his pistol in his hand.

		KORSHUNOV
	We trained for months. Everything
	should've gone like clockwork.

		ZEDECK
	We have the hostages, we're getting
	more fuel.

		KORSHUNOV
	He's already killed three of us, and
	we haven't even seen him. He's also
	shown that he can hurt us. I need to
	think.
		(looks at Serge)
	What the hell are you doing up here?

Get back to the conference room.

INT. MAIN CABIN

Serge takes his position by the conference room.

Across from him, against the cabin divider, Marshall peers
down the sight of his gun.

Serge freezes.

		MARSHALL
	Don't make the same mistake your
	friend did earlier... Show me your
	hands.

Serge raises his hands. Marshall reaches over and pulls out
the clip to his MP5.

		MARSHALL
	Open the door.

INT. CONFERENCE ROOM - NIGHT

Caldwell, Shepherd and a few other aides hear the key turn
in the lock. They quickly take position around the door. As
Marshall marches Serge in, they're both tackled and smothered
by the group. They wrest the guns away and shut the door
quickly behind them.

Marshall struggles against his people.

		MARSHALL
	It's me goddamnit. Let me go.

Surprised to hear their boss' voice, the aides and advisors
release Marshall.

		SHEPHERD
	Mr. President, how the hell did you
	get on board?

		MARSHALL
	I never left. Where's my wife and
	daughter?

		MAJOR CALDWELL
	They took `em out. They're probably
	on the upper deck.

		SHEPHERD
	Mr. President, Major Caldwell here
	has a plan to get these hostages of
	f the plane.

		MARSHALL
	I dumped most of the fuel. They'll
	land soon and Delta will take its
	shot.

		SERGE
	A refueling plane is already on it's
	way so we won't be landing until we
	reach Turkmenistan. Your best course
	of action is to release me. I will
	be merciful.

MAJOR CALDWELL		     84.

Sir, maybe we can use this. Turn it to our advantage.

		MARSHALL
	Mr. Caidwell, the ground's a few
	miles away. How do you propose getting
	us from here to there?

		MAJOR CALDWELL
	Gravity.

INT. WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM -

Satellite pictures of various landing strips projected on
wall-sized monitors.

		DEAN
	Of the three dozen airports in
	Turkmenistan, only five have
	sufficient runways for a 747. Of
	those five, only these three have
	shown any activity.

General Northvood points with a laser pointer.

		GENERAL NORTPNOOD
	But this one here, see this. It's a
	satellite dish and it wasn't there
	two weeks ago. Basic communications
	uplink, which suggests extensive
	communicatins ability. I'd say this
	was the one.

		V.P. CHANDLER
	Are you confident you can take the
	facility?

		GENERAL NORTIWOOD
	It's night there for a few more hours.
	That's a real plus. But I won't lie.
	As far as special ops go, this one's
	a bear, but I think we squeeze it
	out.

		V.P. CHANDLER
	Let's get it going.

		AIDE
	The Press Secretary's about to go
	on.

INT. MAIN CONFERENCE ROOM - NIGHT

		MAJOR CALDWELL
	If we can get to a lower altitude,
	we can use parachutes, but at this
	altitude, we'll pass out from Oxygen
	deprivation.

		MARSHALL
	We've already played our cards, Major.
	There's no turning back.

		MAJOR CALDWELL
	We can't jump from here or at this
	speed. But if we could get a message
	out - tell the refueling plane...

		MARSHALL
	They've cut communication, and I
	spent a good bit of time looking for
	alternatives. My only solution ran
	out of batteries.

A nearby SECRETARY in her late 20's pipes up.

		SECRETARY
	The fax machines.

		MARSHALL
	Excuse me?

		SECRETARY
	The fax machines.

		MARSHALL
		(dismissive)
	No good. I said they disabled the
	communications system.

		SECRETARY
	No. I thought about this, Mr.

President. Voice lines and faxes are on two completely
different systems of encryption. It'd be easy to overlook
the data systems.

What do they have to lose?

		MARSHALL
		(to Caldwell)
	Get `em ready.
		(to secretary)
	You... come with me.

		MAJOR CALDWELL
	Eighteen thousand feet, sir. And two
	hundred knots... otherwise it's
	suicide.

		MARSHALL
	Got it.

INT. CORRIDOR.

Caidwell, holding Serge's gun, takes position by the front
stairway and waves the other hostages on. They emerge from
the conference room, and move to the stairway.

Marshall and the secretary rush the opposite direction toward
the equipment room.

INT. WHITE HOUSE PRESS ROOM - DAY

Amid shouting questions, the PRESS SECRETARY alights to the
podium.

		PRESS SECRETARY
	Please. Quiet please... First let
	me... Please... I have a prepared
	statement... The White House confirms
	that the President's aircraft, Air
	Force One, has been hijacked and is
	currently controlled by foreign
	nationals.

Murmurs, shouts, and more questions.

		REPORTERS
	Is the President onboard?/ What about
	the First Family?/ What are their
	demands?

		PRESS SECRETARY
	Please... please... For security
	reasons I can not comment on any
	specifics except to say that the
	Vice-President is doing everything
	within her power to resolve the
	situation.

		PULL BACK
	T.V. monitor on broadcasting CNN.
	We're in the...

INT. MISSION COMMUNICATIONS CENTER - NIGHT

Korshunov turns toward the monitor. Furrows his brow.

		KORSHUNOV
	And you are almost out of time.

Where is the President?

INT. EQUIPMENT ROOM.

Marshall and the Secretary step over Perkins' body on the
way to the fax machine.

		SECRETARY
	Here sir.

Marshall grabs a piece of paper and a pen. Scribbles a note.

		SECRETARY
	Where are we sending it?

		MARSHALL
	White House Situation room.

He signs the paper and hands it toher. She slides it into
the machine, checks the listed numbers and dials.

		MARSHALL
	Someone should give you a raise.

		SECRETARY
	Actually, sir, you could be that
	someone.

They wait... will it work? A few beats, a few beats more.
The machine pulls the paper in and begins scanning.

		MARSHALL
	It's yours.

INT. WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM.

Marshall's note spits out of one of the fax machines. But in
the bevy of activity, will it be noticed?

INT. UNDERDECK, REAR LOWER GALLEY - NIGHT

Caldwell spins open the rear emergency pressure door and
leads the hostages into...

INT. TAILCONE PARACHUTE LAUNCH PLATFORM -

A cargo hold extending up the tapered edge of the aircraft's
rear. The hostages begin pulling parachute packs out of the
overhead storage bins. Helping each other.

INT. MISSION COMMUNICATIONS SYSTEM.

Korshunov listens to Zedeck yell into the phone in Russian.

		ZEDECK
	Still no movement on Stravanavitch.

Korshunov eyes Alice and Rose.

		ROSE
	Nor will there be. My husband does
	not negotiate with terrorists.

		KORSHUNOV
	You will be the first to pay for
	that mistake.

INT. EMERGENCY PARACHUTE LAUNCH RAMP.

Caidwell assists everyone in strapping on their packs. He
addresses one group, mostly women and senior staff, who belt
into the larger chutes.

		MAJOR CALDWELL
	These chutes are designed for a safe
	slow descent. They'll deploy off the
	line automatically as you step from
	the plane.
		(turns to another
		group, mostly younger
		men)
	You guys'll have to pull your own
	rip cords. Wait until you're clear
	from the plane, but not any longer.
		(he checks packs and
		straps)
	Once I check you, go stand behind
	the yellow line. You're good. You're
	good. You're good.

Two neat lines ready to jump. One line on the deployment
wire, and the other set for freefall.

Marshall and the secretary arrive.

		MAJOR CALDWELL
	Mr. president?  pwtsHALL The fax
	went through. We can only wait.

		MAJOR CAWWELL
	Your chute.

		MARSHALL
	I'll not going without my family.

		MAJOR CALDWELL
	Yes, sir.

Caidwell crosses to prep the Launch Ramp controls.

INT. COCKPIT.

The gas gauges read very close to empty. Korshunov Stands
behind Gibbs, while Zedeck keeps an eye on the First Lady.

		GIBBS
	Where's that goddamn plane?  tNT.
	EMERGENCY PARACHUTE LAUNCH RAMP.

Everybody waits. Caidwell watches the indicator. 30,000 feet.

EXT. SKY - NIGHT

A KC-135, the USAF flying gas station, descends in front of
Air Force One.

		KC-135 PILOT
	Air Force One, this is AF-135-RA. We
	have been instructed to refuel your
	plane.

TNT. AIR FORCE ONE FLIGHT DECK - NIGHT

		GIBBS
	About goddamn time.

		KC-135 PILOT
	Please change course to Zero Seven
	Four and drop to eighteen thousand
	feet. Over.

		GIBBS
	Air Force One, acknowledged.  tNT.
	EMERGENCY PARACHUTE LAUNCH RAMP.

The altimeter begins to fall. A wave of relief washes over
the group.

EXT. SKY - NIGHT

The KC-135 extends its flying gas pump.

		KC-135 PILOT
	Air Force One, please reduce speed
	to 250 knots.

		GIBBS (V.0. RADIO)
	Roger.

TNT. AFO FLIGHT DECK.
90.

Okay1 now   KC-135 PILOT (V.0. Radio) vent your fueling
system.

It's the yellow lever on the upper control panel. And next
to that there's a toggle Switch to open your intake. Got it?

		GIBBS
	Roger KC-135 PILOT (V.0. Radio)

Air Force One, do you see the fueling arm?

Through the cockpit Window, the long metallic appendage
dangles ahead of the plane.

		GIBBS
	That's affirmative.

		KC-135 PILOT
	Ga get it.

EXT. SKY - NIGHT

As Air Force One edges its nose up to the appendage. The
appendage finds it's grove and slides right in.

TNT. TAILCONE PARACHUTE LAUNCH PLATFOIW -

		MAJOR CALOWELL
	That's it, eighteen thousand feet.

We're ready.

		MARSHALL
	What about them?

Marshall indicates the four men without parachutes on. TWO
AIR FORCE CREW MEMBERS, Major Caldwell and Shepherd.

		MAJOR CALDWELL
	Sir, we stay with the President.

		MARSHALL
	That isn't necessary.

None of them changes his mind.

		MARSHALL
	Thank you.

A silent beat. A few forced smiles in this very tense room.

*
91.

		MAJOR CALDWELL
	Relax everybody. I used to do this
	for a living9 Caidwell pulls a switch
	on the wall.

		MAJOR CALDWELL
	Depressurizing compartment. This `11
	take a moment.

The President crosses to one of his aides.

		MARSHALL
	Hey, by the way... who won the Duke
	game?

		AIDE
	Find out for yourself, sir. I'll
	have it waiting at the White House.

Marshall smiles.

EXT. SKY - NIGHT

The KC-135 flies above Air Force One, connected by a gasoline
umbilical cord.

INT. EMERGENCY RAMP PLATFORM.

Caldwell breaks safety glass. Reaches into a compartment and
pulls a lever.

		MAJOR CALDWELL
	Here we go.

A mechanical him and clank gives way to a rush of wind as
the tail section of Air Force One hinges open on hydraulic
struts, extending like a plank behind the plane. We can see
the sky with its angry clouds.

Rushing by at two hundred knots.

INT. FLIGHT DECK.

A LOUD BUZZ

		KORSHUNOV
	What's that?

A warning light flashes on the control panel. Tactical Video
Display shows the emergency parachute ramp activating.

INT. MAIN CABIN.

Zedeck runs toward the conference room. He bursts through
the doors.

INT. CONFERENCE ROOM -

Empty.

INT. FRONT HOLD/LOWER GALLEY -

Tracking: Zedeck Sprinting to the rear of the plane.

EXT. AIR FORCE ONE -

The tail cone section of Air Force One hinges open and
parachutes begin to blossum from the rear of the plane.

INT. F-15 EAGLE -

From several miles back Carlton watches the chutes emerge.

		COL. CARLTON
	Here they come.

INT. WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM.

Radio traffic echos through the room.

		COL. CMLTON (V.0.)
	We got... okay... so far ten chutes
	deploying of f the line. Dropping
	signal flares for search and rescue.

INT. ITEAR BAGGAGE HOLD -

Zedeck reaches the emergency pressure door. Through the
porthole he sees the hostages getting away. He tries the
door hatch. Locked.

Zedeck looks around. Crosses to the lower rear galley.

He kicks open the panel on the stove. Rips out the propane
tank. He runs back and wedges the tank into the door lock.

He backs off 50 feet, turns and opens fire on the tank.

The tank explodes, blowing the door out.

EMERGENCY PARACHUTE LAUNCH PLATFORM

The pressure door blows open and an explosion of pressurized
air blasts through the platform.

The remaining parachutists are blown out the rear. Chutes
deploying.

Marshall and Serge are knocked down the ramp, tumbling toward
oblivion. Just as Marshall's about to slide off the corner
of the ramp he grabs its hydraulic strut.

Plummeting death.

His grip is all that separates his dangling body from a long
Serge tumbles by Marshall, limbs flailing, and with a scream
Woven from a thousand nightma5, he loses his grip and slides
off the ramp into the jetblack sky, falling endlessly.

Shepherd and Caldwell manage to hang to safety webbing as
the

wind whips around them. The two other air force crew members
Without chutes also manage to hang on.

As the plane depressurizes, it BUCKS like a wild bronco.

Marshall looks down into the sky. Below his dangling legs,
parachutes blossoij. He's straining... he can't hold on
forever.

INT. COCKPIT -

Gibbs fights the wheel.

Oxygen masks spring out from an overhead compartment as air
is sucked out of the cockpit...

The plane shudders and jumps badly....

KC-135 PILOT (V.0. RADIO)

Air Force One, back off. I repeat, back off.

Gibbs wrestles with the yoke, to no avail.

		GIBBS
	She's bucking. I can't hold her!

KC-135 PILOT (V.0. RADIO)

What are you doing? Back off! Back off!

EXT. SKY -

Air Force One jerks upward, snapping off the fueling arm of
the KC-135.

		KC-135 PILOT
	LOOK OUT!

The broken edge of the fueling arm scrapes along the top of
Air Force One... metal against metal... tearing a gash in
the plane... Sparks fly.

ONE OF THE SPARKS

ignites the river of gasoline being pumped from the refueling
craft's belly.

INT. AIR FORCE ONE, COCKPIT -

Gibbs Sees the fueling arm catch fire. It doesn't take a
rocket scientist to figure what's coming. The flames creep
up toward the gas tanks.

		GIBBS
	Holy Shiti Gibbs pushes the stick
	down and Air Force One begins to
	dive to safety.

EXT. SKY -

Air Force One descends.

Whipping fire trails the KC-135.

Slowly rolls it way into the plane's main tank.

A burning fuse.

BARRROOOOOOOM! A FIRECLOUD ERUPTS ACROSS THE SKY.

Sky like daylight.

From this incredible firecloud, the burned out skeleton of
an airplane emerges, falling toward earth.

The F-15 escort zoom toward the unexpected fireball.

		COL. CARLTON
	Everybody break. Now! Now! Now!

Carlton's planes go into emergency climb, standing on their
afterburners to escape the inferno.

INT. EMERGENCY PARACHUTE LAUNCH RAMP -

Marshall hangs on to the strut for dear life as the
pressurized air swooshes by him, taking with it everything
that isn't nailed down including some of the spare parachutes.

Fire rains down from the heavens, the sky like one giant
napalm nightmare.

The shock wave hits the plane, slamming it violently.

Almost yanking the hyraulic arm from Marshall's grasp.

The military aides without parachutes lose their footing and
tumble off the platform. SCREAMING as they fall into fire.

EXT. SKY -

The burning KC-135 shell, an apocalyptic Flying Dutchman in
a vengeful Kamikazee dive at Air Force One.

It's gonna be close.

The flaming shell passes only a few hundred yards to the
rear of the 747.

EXT. PARACHUTE LAUNCH RAMP -

Marshall's got a great view. Flames dance in his eyes as he
watches the refueling plane descend.

The brightness subsides, and the sky grows dark again.

The wave of pressurized air subsides leaving Zedeck, Marshall,
Shepherd and Caldwell on the ramp. Caldwell begins edging
toward Marshall.

		ZEDECK
	Don't move.

		MAJOR CALDWELL
	Let me save him.

Marshall barely hangs on.

		ZEDECK
	That man, he is the president, no?

		SHEPHERD
	Yes. Yes he is.

Zedeck motions to Caidwell with his gun. "Go get him."

Caldwell crawls down the ramp and extends his hand to
Marshall.

THE PRESSURE DOOR SLAMMING SHUT -

zedeck leads Marshall, shepherd and Caldwell away.

IPRR. AFO'S FLIGHT DECK -

Gibbs steadies the plane.

		KORSHUNOV
	Fuel?

Gibbs checks the guages.

		GIBBS
	More than enough to get us home.

EXT. WHITE HOUSE - EVENING

The sun begins to set along the Potomac in long streaks of
red and pink. The White House lights flicker on uminating
the long staunch columns, the pillars of democracy.

RNT. WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM - EVENING

Tired. Strung out. Bickering within the small workgroups.

Chandler crosses to General Northwood, who has just hung up
the phone.

		V.P. CHANDLER
	They still have the President, it's
	past their deadline and they haven't
	called. What do you think it means?

		GENERAL NORTHWOOD
	Like any good poker player, they're
	checking over their hand seeing which
	cards to play and which to discard.

INT. AFO, MISSION COMMUNICATION CENTER - NIGHT

Zedeck leads the three hostage into the M.C.C.

Rose and Marshall - their eyes meet. Enormous relief for the
both of them. Marshall smiles at his wife, as she fights
back her tears.

		ALICE
		(to Korshunov)
	He didn't leave us.

		KORSHUNOV
	You are a resilient man, Mr.

President.

Zedeck grabs Caldwell's hands and tapes them behind his back
with duct tape. Rose and Alice already have their hands taped.

		KORSHUNQV
	You must forgive the tape, but we
	were starting to feel outnumbered...

Gibbs!

INT. FLIGHT DECK -

Gibbs puts the plane on automatic pilot. Rises to join the
group.

INT. MISSION COMMUNICATIONS CENTER -

Korshunov separates Marshall from his family. Waves him into
the Com Officer's chair. His hands are now wrapped too.

Gibbs enters looking down.

		MARSHALL
	Special Agent Gibbs. You helped do
	this?

		GIBBS
	Yes, Mr. President.

		MARSHALL
	Why?

		GIBBS
	Because it is my duty.

		MARSHALL
	You're duty to what? The country you
	served doesn't exist anymore.

		GIBBS
	My loyalty was never to my country.

I serve my commanding officers.

		KORSHUNOV
	You don't think the leaders of the
	KGB would allow peristroika to ruin
	years of infiltration? No, when the
	Soviet Union collapsed, we took our
	sleepers with us.

Korshunov holds up a telephone.

		KORSHUNOV
	Now since we've had very little luck
	getting Washington or Moscow to
	cooperate, I wondered if you would
	be so kind.

		MARSHALL
	Over my dead body.

		KORSHUNOV
	No. But since I only have a few of
	your staff left to kill, perhaps I
	will start with your family instead...
	Gibbs.

Gibbs grabs Alice and shoves her into a chair. She fights
him off, and he smacks her across the face and shoves his
gun into her neck.

Marshall and Rose struggle against their bonds.

		KORSHUNOV
	The world is such a dangerous place
	and we can't always protect our
	children.

		ROSE
	Please. You can kill me but leave my
	daughter alone.

Korshunov runs his finger down Alice's cheek.

		MARSHALL
	She isn't a part of this. This is
	between you and me.

		KORSHUNOV
	Call up Petrov and order
	Stravanavitch' S release.

Marshall looks to Alice, then Rose, then back to Alice.

		MARSHALL
	This administration does not negotiate
	with terrorists.

		KORSHUNOV
	Pity. Mr. Gibbs.

Gibbs withdraws his pistol. Places it against Alice's temple.

		KORSHUNOV
	Perhaps a President does not
	negotiate, but does a father?
		(beat)
	An interesting choice. Your daughter
	versus your world vision. The implicit
	trust of a family against your oath
	of office.

Tears of fears are streaming down Alice's face. She looks
into her father's eyes.

		ALICE
	Daddy...

		MARSHALL
	Alice... I...

		KORSHUNOV
	And once the trigger is pulled, she
	is gone forever. Then, I wonder, how
	do you live, knowing you could've
	saved her?

Marshall struggles with his duty. His honor.

		KORSHUNOV
	And could you ever forget the look
	on her face as she ceases to exist...
	Late at night, when you think about
	her, will Stravanavitch really matter
	anymore?

Marshall tries to look away, but Zedeck forces him to watch.

		ALICE
	Daddy. Daddy, please...

		ROSE
	Jim... for godsake!

		KORSHUNOV
	Look inside your heart. No one will
	think you weak. Five...

Alice's face, trying to be brave.

		KORSHUNOV
	Four...

		ROSE
	Jim...

		KORSHUNOV
	Three...

Rose looks away.

		KORSHUNOV
	Two. .

Alice looks at her father for the very last time. Then shuts
her eyes tight.

		KORSHUNOV
	One...

Gibbs begins to squeeze the trigger.

		MARSHALL
	NO!

Korshunov smiles.

		MARSHALL
	Stop.

		KORSHUNOV
	You'll do it?

		MARSHALL
	Yes, I'll do it.
		(broken)
	Just leave my family alone.

		KORSHUNOV
	Good. Good.

Gibbs withdraws the gun from Alice's temple. Alice opens her
eyes and gasps for breath.

		KORSHUNOV
	Bring him the phone...

You are true to your nature, Mr.

President.

		MARSHALL
	Someday, you'll regret my nature.

		KORSHUNOV
	You don't like seeing people get
	hurt. Now in morality, that is a
	virtue. In politics, however, that
	is weakness.
		(beat)
	You were a hostage to everyone else
	*		      long before you
	were a hostage to

INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT

A sleepless Petrov paces back and forth, smoking a cigarette.

The phone RINGS. He looks up expectantly as his aide answers.

		AIDE
	Sir, the President of the United
	States wishes to speak with you.

Petrov stops in mid-pace. Considers his cigarette for a moment
and then walks over to the phone.

		PETROV
	Mr. President.

INT. PRISON CELL - NIGHT

A guard walks down the cold steel hallway. He rattles the
bar of a darkened cage, he pulls out a set of keys and unlocks
the door.

		GUARD
	Stravanavitch.

Stravanavitch awakes, and leans forward into the light. He
and the guard trade looks. After a beat, the guard turns and
retreats down the the hallway.

Stravanavitch rises from his bunk and approaches the cell
door. He leans against it and it swings open.

INT. M.C.C. - NIGHT

Rose stares at Marshall. Her look is hard to read. Distant...
cold, perhaps.

		ROSE
	Can my husband sit next to me?

Korshunov considers the pair. Hands taped behind their back.

They're harmless. Korshunov nods.

Marshall rises and joins her on the pilot's rest bunk.

		ROSE
	I don't know why you stayed.

		MARSHALL
	Please... don't start with me.

Rose moves closer to him, and speaks in a low voice.

		ROSE
	There's something I need to tell
	you... and God knows if I'll ever
	get another chance.

From behind, we see her push his taped hands away.

He looks at her quizically.

		ROSE
	No matter what happens, you have
	been and always will be my hero.

He feels the wall behind him. A dull edge of metal twisted
slightly from the earlier cockpit door explosion.

He understands.

		MARSHALL
	And you have always been my guardian
	angel.

She smiles back at him.

		ROSE
	I will never regret my life with
	you.

Behind Marshall's back, he begins to cut away at the duct
tape.

INT. MOSCOW CENTRAL PRISON, HALLWAY - NIGHT

Ivan Stravanavitch walks down the long prison hallway. Other
PRISONERS see him and begin banging on their bars in rhythm.

As he parades down the corridor, the banging grows until it
becomes deafening. Stravanavitch smiles a cocky smile.

One by one, guard doors swing open in front of him. In fact,
a few of the HACKS salute Stravanavitch as he passes.

INT. MISSION COMMUNICATION CENTER - AIR FORCE ONE

The communication board beeps and Zedeck picks up the line.

He exchanges some words with the caller in Russian, then
hangs up the phone.

		SERGE
	It's confirmed. Stravanavitch is on
	his way out. Our men are waiting
	outside.

Korshunov smiles and puts his hand on Zedeck's shoulder.

		ROSE
	You got what you wanted. You going
	to release us now?

		KORSHUNOV
	You're very valuable. And our nation
	needs so many things.

Marshall leans his head against the wall. Just as he expected.

		MARSHALL
	Could I... Could I have some water?

Korshunov nods, motions Zedeck to take care of it. Zedeck
reluctanty descends to the main cabin.

		KORSHUNOV
	The taste of defeat is bitter, no?

		MARSHALL
	One thing I've learned as

President... all defeats are temporary and all victories are
temporary. Today' 5 conquerers are tomorrow's vanquished.

		KORSHUNOV
	e		      Very poetic.

Zedeck arrives with a glass of water.

		MARSHALL
	And there's one thing I've learned
	from being a sports fan.

Zedeck brings the cup of water to Marshall's lips. Marshall
tips his head back to receive it.

		KORSHUNOV
	And that is?

Water spills over Marshall's face. He shakes it off.

		MARSHALL
	It ain't over, til it's over.

With blinding speed, Marshall leaps to his feet and swings
his arm around Zedeck's throat. He snaps Zedeck's neck with
quiet efficency.

Gibbs fires at Marshall, but Marshall, using Zedeck as a
shield, grabs hold of the terrorist'sMP5 and lets loose...
mowing down the former Secret Service agent.

The rest of Gibb's shots pelt against the cockpit controls
sending showers of sparks flying.

Korshunov whips out his gun and lines up a clean shot at
Marshall's head.

		MAJOR CALDWELL
	Mr. President.

Korshunov fires at Marshall, but...

Major Caidwell dives in front of the bullet spray taking the
rounds in his chest.

Marshall turns his aim to Korshunov... but Korshunov grabs
Alice and presses his pistol to her head.

Stand-off.

		KORSHUNOV
	Don't be hasty.

Marshall holds Korshunov in his sights. Slowly advancing.

		KORSHUNOV
	You love your daughter, Mr.

President. And I love my country.

It's a fair trade.

Korshunov backs away to the steps. Marshall does not lower
his gun. Korshunov disappears down the staircase.

		MARSHALL
	Shepherd.

		SHEPHERD
	Sir...

Shepherd stands. Marshall unwraps Shepherd's hands.

		MARSHALL
	Call Petrov...
		(to Rose)
	I'll be back.

		ROSE
	Both of you.

Marshall slowly descends the steps to the main cabin. As
soon as Shepherd gets her hands loose, Rose rushes to
Caidwell's aid. Shepherd crosses to the communications panel
and picks up a headset. Begins dialing numbers

INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT

In his nightdress, Stoli Petrov nurses a vodka on ice. His

PHONE RINGS.

		PETROV
	Petrov.

Petrov's eyes widen.

EXT. MOSCOW PRISON EXERCISE YARD - NIGHT

A wall of bars part and Stravanavitch walks through. Into
the main exercise yard.

The main gate separates him from...

A group of men wait in the street by a limousine.

The main gate opens slowly.

When the men sees Stravanavitch they come to attention and
salute him. Stravanavitch returns the salute. And then starts
his march toward his limousine...

A SIREN WAILS. LIGHTS FLOOD THE INSIDE AND OUTSIDE OF THE
PRISON.

The front gate begins to close. Worry crosses Stravanavitch's
face. His men rush toward him, take position by the gate.

Stravanavitch breaks into a run toward his limousine.

		GUARD
	Halt! Halt!

Stravanvitch looks behind him. Guards rushing toward him
from the yard... the limousine fifty yards ahead of him...
closing fast...

On the limo... the back door open and waiting.

A shot rings out from the guard tower, followed by another,
and another. Like popcorn starting to pop. Stravanavitch's
men return fire. A minor war breaks out. Loyal guards battling
Stravanavitch sympathizers.

Stravanavitch caught in the middle, hit by one bullet, then
another, then another. He makesit to the open rear door of
the limousine, but collapses dead.

Everyone stops firing. Stravanavitch's men rush to his side..

INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT

Petrov slips under the covers as an aide knocks on his door.

		PETROV
	What is it?

		AIDE
	It's about Stravanvaitch.

		PETROV
	What about him?

		AIDE
	He's dead, sir. Shot while trying to
	escape.

A beat.

		PETROV
	So be it. The world will sleep easier.

Petrov turns out his bedside light.

INT. AIR FORCE ONE, MAIN CABIN - NIGHT

Marshall ascends down from the upper deck. Spots Korshunov
by the front stairway. Korshunov pushes Alice down the stairs
to the underdeck.

INT. COCKPIT - NIGHT

Autopilot engaged. A shower of sparks erupts from one of the
bulletholes in the panel.

Directional compass... the course heading drifts off to the
south.

EXT. SKY - NIGHT

The squadron of F-15 still surround Air Force One, which
slowly banks to one side.

INT. F-15 COCKPIT - NIGHT

		COL. CARLTON
	They've changed their bearing.
		(into headset)
	Air Force One. Air Force One.

Over... Air Force One please respond...

		FIGHTER PILOT #1
	Sir, this new bearing. We're headed
	for Iraq, sir.

INT. PILOT'S REST AREA.

Unaware of the course drift, Shepherd and Rose lift Caldwell
onto a bunk.

		ROSE
	Easy, Major. Easy.

		MAJOR CALDWELL
	The President?

		ROSE
	You saved his life.

Caidwell smiles, settles peacefully back in the cot. He dies.

Rose reaches up and shuts his eyes.

INT. LOWER GALLEY - NIGHT

Marshall makes his way through the dimness. Stepping
cautiously.

A shot rings out and richochets off a piece of piping right
over Marshall's head.

Undaunted Marshall advances.

		MARSHALL
	It's over, Korshunov. You won. Now
	let her go.

He listens, footsteps ahead of him.

ON Korshunov - holding Alice by her hair, practically dragging
her over the mid-section wing cross-braces.

As Marshall appears in the gangway he fires off another shot,
hitting a cooling vent. Steam fills the' gangway area, bathed
in red auxiliary lighting.

Korshunov retreats toward the rear of the plane.

		MARSHALL (O.S.)
	There's nowhere to go.

INT. CONTROL TOWER - NIGHT

SUPER - "HUSSEIN AIR BASE, NORTHERN IRAQ"

A cacophony of Arabic. The radar indicates an apparent
invasion force heading for its borders.

EXT. AIR FIELD - NIGHT

Iraqi pilots rush to their MiGs.

INT. WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM -

All eyes on the tactical display... Air Force One's course
has arced south and the plane is heading straight for Iraq.

		GENERAL NORTHWOOD
	They aren't answering their hails.

		DEAN
	This doesn't make sense.

		V.P. CHANDLER
	How close are they?

GENERAL NORTHiqOOD Fifteen miles, so two minutes.

		LEE
	The Iraqi Ambassador won't take our
	calls. We're trying to get through
	to their Central Command.

		DEAN
	To tell them what? The great infidel
	himself is flying overhead, Go get
	him? This is a man they burn in effigy
	daily.

		V.P. CHANDLER
	If challenged, our fighters are to
	state that they are on a rescue
	mission.

		GENERAL NORTHWOOD
	Iraqi's won't buy it. Either they're
	already in on this or they'll think
	we're spying.

		V.P. CHANDLER
	If fired upon, tell our fighters
	that they are ordered to engage.

INT. REAR BAGGAGE HOLD - NIGHT

Marshall checks behind the racks of stored goods and luggage.

P.O.V. LOOKING DOWN A GUNSIGHT AS MARSHALL WALKS INTO THE

open.

A finger on the trigger.

		ALICE
	Dad, look out.

Korshunov fires and Marshall dives out of the way. He cones
up in defensive crouch ready to shoot, but all he can see is
Alice.

		MARSHALL
	How you doing, sweetie?

		ALICE
	Been better, Dad... You?

Marshall smiles briefly. But Alice is yanked around the
corner. Marshall hears foatsteps. He junps to his feet and
cautiously follows.

INT. WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM - EVENING

On the tactical display as a second group of fighters appear.
ready to challenge the F-l5's.

EXT. SKY - NIGHT

Air Force One and the cluster of F-15's zoom by.

		COL. CARLTON
	Air Force one... please respond. Air
	Force One, you are entering hostile
	air space. Air Force one...

All Carlton receives is static.

INT. AFO'S COCKPIT.

Nobody at the wheel. The automatic pilot is still engaged.

INT. F-15 EAGLE COCKPIT.

Con. CARLTON Okay, guys, time to earn your paychecks. Stay
in protective formation, and do not engage, I repeat, do not
engage... unless you are fired upon. All wings acknowledge.

		FIGHTER PILOT #1
	Halo one, acknowledged.

		FIGHTER PILOT #2
	Halo two, acknowledged.

The rest of the pilots chime in.

INT. AIR FORCE ONE, LOWER AFT GALLEY - NIGHT

Marshall swings into the cubicle... empty.

He crosses to the cargo bay/parachute launch ramp hatchway.

Looks through the porthole.

Korshunov straps on one of the few remaining parachutes. He
tosses the rest of the spares out onto the platform.

Marshall steps onto the platform. Korshunov fires off a round
forcing him behind the door for cover.

Korshunov pulls Alice in front of him and yanks down the
ramp activation lever.

		KORSHUNOV
	Stay where you are.

The ramp lowers, and Alice gets her first look at the drop.

Marshall watches the remaining parachutes slide off the ramp
and into the stormy sky.

		KORSHUNOV
	There goes your ride.

		MARSHALL
	Let my daughter go or I'll take you
	out!

		KORSHUNOV
	If you put down the gun, I promise
	not to drop her on the way down.

Korshunov backs toward the edge of the ramp, pulling a
struggling and fighting Alice.

		MARSHALL
	Let her go now! Or I will kill you.

Korshunov is a foot away from the edge of the ramp... two
steps back, he and Alice will take the plunge.

Marshall lines up his shot. Korshunov laughs as he presses
his pistol to Alice's ear.

		KORSHUNOV
	No you won't. You'll compromise...
	like always.

		MARSHALL
	Hold on, Alice.

Marshall fires, his bullet ripping apart a good deal of
Korshunov's face and snapping his body back.

Korshunov tumbles off the platform, but his limbs are caught.
in Alice's. She's knocked to her belly and his dead weight
drags her off the edge of the platform.

		ALICE
	NO!

Marshall dives down the sloping platform, reaching out for
her...

Alice tries to grip the platform with her hands, but she
can't hold on. Her hand slip off the metallic lip.

But as she falls, she's caught by the wrist. Strong arms
pull her up. Her father's arms. He carries her back to the
safety of the plane. She's sobs uncontrollably.

		ALICE
	Oh NY god... oh my god... oh my god...

		MARSHALL
	It's okay, honey. I got you. I got
	you. You're okay.

Shepherd and Rose appear. Marshall locks eyes with Rose...
smiles. Shepherd crosses to the parachute bins.

		MARSHALL
	Gone. They're all gone.

The plane shakes with the thunder of a supersonic boom.

EXT. SKY - NIGHT

A half dozen MiGs race by the cluster of American aircraft
at breakneck speeds.

INT. IRAQI CONTROL TOWER - NIGHT

GENERAL CERALLOS eyes the radar.

		IRAQI SOLDIER
	The Americans say they are escorting
	a damaged plane. Our pilots confirm
	they are surrounding a 747.

		CERALLOS
	Did we warn them off?

		IRAQI SOLDIER
	Yes. They refused to alter course
	and the 747 would not answer our
	hails.

Cerallos takes a moment, looking at the screen.

		CERALLOS
	It's some kind of trick... a
	preliminary airstrike in response to
	our troop movement.

		IRAQI SOLDIER
	They are in our airspace. We would
	be within our rights.

		CERALLOS
	The world would not look on us kindly
	if we shot down a civilian airliner.

The Soldier listens to chatter coning over his headset.

		IRAQI SOLDIER
	The pilot says it is does not have
	the markings of a commercial jet.

		CERALLOS
	Warn then again. If they don't
	respond... shoot them down. We will
	not be intimidated.

EXT. AIR FORCE ONE - NIGHT

INT. MISSION COMMUNICATION CENTER - NIGHT

Another sonic boom.

		MARSHALL
	What is that sound?

Marshall makes his way to the cockpit.

Through the cockpit window, a MiG accelerates out of the
darkness coming straight at us. At the last second it pulls
up slightly, riding over the top of the 747.

Its sonic boom rocks the jumbo jet.

		MARSHALL
	My god. I think that was a MiG.

		SHEPHERD
	A MiG? Where the hell are we?

Marshall rushes back to one of the rear upper deck windows.

He looks out at the F-l5s.

		MARSHALL
	They're flying a protection formation.
		(beat)
	Call D.C. Find out what's going on.

INT. COCKPIT, F-15 EAGLE - NIGHT

		MIS PILOT (V.0.)
	This is your last warning. You are
	violating our airspace. Leave
	immediately.

		COL. CARLTON
	I said back off and hold your fire.

We are on a rescue mission. Do not engage. I repeat, do not
engage.

EXT. SKY - NIGHT

A MiG loops into position behind Carlton.

INT. MIG COCKPIT - NIGHT

switches his targeting computer on. Finds carlton in his
sights. Good tone.

The pilot pulls the trigger.

EXT. SKY - NIGHT

The missile detaches from the MiG and slides toward Carlton.

Carlton breaks formation, leading the missile astray. His
plane tucks into a tight little roll. The missile misses
over Carlton's rolling wings.

		COL. CARLTON
	Halo Team, this is group leader.

Halo Team is cleared to engage. I repeat, you are cleared to
engage.

Carlton pulls his plane into a monster climb.

		COL. CARLTON
	This is the real thing boys. Let's
	fly and fry.

INT. WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM - NIGHT

A ringing phone is answered by an aide. A few beats.

		AIDE
	It's the Chief of Staff calling...
	from Air Force One. They've retaken
	control of the aircraft.

		GENERAL NORTHWOOD
	Then tell him to get the fuck out of
	Iraq.

INT. COCKPIT - NIGHT

Marshall settles into the pilot's chair. Shepherd comes in.

		SHEPHERD
	Iraq, sir. We're over Iraq.

		MARSHALL
	Iraq? Shep, you're fired.

Marshall looks at the plane's bearing. The instruments are
shot to hell.

		MARSHALL
	Shit.

		SHEPHERD
	How long's it been since you flew,
	sir?

		MARSHALL
	Twenty-five years.

EXT. SKY -

An F-15 follows a MiG into a barrel roll.

INT. MIG COCKPIT - NIGHT

The MIG pilot targets Air Force One. He cuts his speed as he
lines up his shot. Gets a lock.

		MIG PILOT
		(arabic/subtitle)
	I have radar lock on the 747.

INT. COCKPIT - AIR FORCE ONE - NIGHT

On tactical computer -   "RADAR LOCK"

		  "Dis-Engaging Auto-pilot"

The plane banks left into a dive. Marshall grabs the yoke.

INT. MIG COCKPIT -

Finger on the trigger.

		MIG PILOT
	It's evading. Can I take the shot?

		MIG LEADER (V.0.)
	Take the shot.

EXT. SKY - NIGHT

Looking forward from underneath an F-15, the MiG heads toward
Air Force One. The F-15 fires a sidewinder.

On the MIG... as it fires its missile. The F-15's sidewinder
blows the MIG up, taking the missile with it.

Air Force One is clear... for the time being.

INT. AIR FORCE ONE, COCKPIT - NIGHT

MARSHALL STRUGGLES TO REGAIN CONTROL OF THE 747. HE OVER-

compensates and the plane rocks side-to-side.

		ROSE
	What are you doing?

		MARSHALL
	Flying the plane.

		ROSE
	You haven't even driven a car since
	you took office.

Marshall checks out the tactical display.

		MARSHALL
	I'm sure it's like riding a bicycle...
	downhill with no brakes and somebody
	shooting at you.

Marshall finds the throttle, pushes it up all the way. He
feels the plane out, gently nudges it into a turn.

EXT. SKY - NIGHT

Two MiGs flare out of an engagement with the F-15's and break
toward Air Force One.

		COL. CARLTON
	We got two on the loose. Someone get
	on them.

		FIGHTER PILOT #2
	Halo Two... I can't get there in
	time.

		COL. CARLTON
	Bullshit. Do it.

The two MiGs lock onto Air Force One. Each fires a missile
at the President's plane, before breaking in opposite
directions.

INT. AFO COCKPIT - NIGHT

A red buzz. It's all Marshall can do to keep the plane flying
straight.

		MARSHALL
	We got two coming at us!

Tactical Countermeasures Computer... as it tracks the
incomings...

		 "Heat Seekers"

		      "Launching Flares"

EXT. AIR FORCE ONE - NIGHT

Brightly burning flares launch from either side of Air Force
One's wings and descend toward earth.

The missiles follow the heat of the flares, plummeting
harmlessly to earth.

INT. AIR FORCE ONE COCKPIT - NIGHT

The shock waves from a nearby MiG explosion shakes the plane.

In the aftermath, Marshall takes a moment and pulls on the
pilot's headset.

		MARSHALL
	U.S. Pilots, this is Air Force One.

		COL. CARLTON
	Copy Air Force One. Welcome to the
	party.

FIGHTER PILOT #1 (V.0.)

I'm on it.

INT. AFO COCKPIT - NIGHT'

		MARSILALL
	Can you... can you drop in front of
	me? I'll follow you out.

		COL. CARLTON
	Hang tough, I'm on my way.

EXT. SKY - NIGHT

On the two MiG's heading for Air Force One.

An F-15 drops in behind them. The MiGs scissor and break in
OPPosite directions. The F-l5 can only follow one of them.

		FIGHTER PILOT 11
	I'm tight on one, the other's loose.

I need help down here.

The other MiG comes up on the 747 and opens fire with his
CANNONS. The shells rip up the surface of the aircraft's
wing. The MiG swoops past Air Force One and jerks into a *
vertical.

On the damaged wing - Fuel starts leaking out and the outer
jet engine catches fire.

INT. COCKPIT, AIR FORCE ONE - NIGHT

Red warning light flashes on the control panel.

		MARSHALL
	We're hit. We've got an engine on
	fire.

		COT. CAALTON (V.0.)
	Shut it down. Shut it down.

Marshall reaches over and toggles the shutoff switch.

EXT. AIR FORCE ONE - NIGHT

The engine whirs to a halt and the rushing wind blows out
the fire. But now she's only got three engines.

INT. AIR FORCE ONE - NIGHT

Through the cockpit window, an F-15 settles in front of Air
Force One... Flames pouring out of its tail. Under any other
condition, it would be pretty. Alice, Rose and Shepherd watch
Marshall fly.

		MARSHALL
	This is President Marshall. I know
	you guys are busy, but we need some
	help here.

INT. CARLTON'S F-15 COCKPIT - NIGHT

Canton in pursuit of a Mis.

		COL. CARLTON
	Mr. President, it's an honor. Now
	with your permission can we lead you
	the fuck out of here.

		MARSHALL
	You read my mind.

		COL. CARLTON
	Put your pilot on.

		MARSHALL
	He's busy being dead.

Carlton breaks left, lines up a MiG and fires. He nails the
Iraqi aircraft.

		COL. CARLTON
	Who's flying the fucking plane?

		MARSHALL
	I'm doing what I can.

		COL. CAELTON
	Can you, can you change your heading
	to Zero Four One point six?

		MARSHALL
	Negative. We've lost navagition. I
	don't know where that is.

Buzzer sounds in Carlton's cockpit. He's been locked on.

		COL. CARLTON
	Oh shit. Hang on. Somebody help me
	out. I got one up my ass.

EXT. SKY - NIGHT

Carlton puts his plane into a triple canopy roll then slams
on his airbreaks. The MiS shoots by him and Carlton lets
loose with his CANNONS. The MiG pulls up and disengages.

		COL. CARLTON
	Two and three are heading toward the
	Boeing.

		COL. CARLTON
	Okay. We're gonna arc a fat one to
	the right. Got it?

		MARSHALL
	Got it.

		COL. CARLTON
	Stay cool.

Canton's plane edges around to the right... and Marshall
follows. The 747 leans at an angle and continues the turn
until the F-15 is dead ahead. Another plane explodes ahead
of him at three o'clock.

		MARSHALL
	How we doing, Colonel?

		COL. CARLTON
	We still got three MiGs running around
	and six more on the way.

Can't you fly any faster?

IRA'. WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM - NIGHT

All eyes are glued to the tactical screen, showing the
dogfight. They listen to the radio traffic.

		MARSHALL
	We're at full throttle.

FIGHTER PILOT #1 (V.0.)

Air Force One, MiGs four and five are on your tail.

		MARSHALL
	Well get `em off me, goddamnit.

EXT. SKY - NIGHT

Two MiGs targeting the big bird.

		FIGHTER PILOT #1
	I can't get a lock. Break right.

Break right.

INT. AFO COCKPIT - NIGHT

Marshall struggles with his stick turning the aircraft to
the right.

EXT. SKY - NIGHT

Of course its pointless. The Boeing is a fucking sloth
compared to these fighters.

INT. AIR FORCE ONE COCKPIT - NIGHT

The familiar buzz. Tactical computer. "RADAR LOCK"

Alice notices the computer. At the upper right hand of the
screen, the computer displays Defensive Mode/Offensive Mode.

Defensive Mode is highlighted.

		ALICE
	Daddy, look. It says...

Alice reaches out and touches the screen.

		MARSHALL
	Not now, pumpkin.

Alice's touch activates offensive mode.

EXT. AIR FORCE ONE - NIGHT

Along the belly of the aircraft, two hatches pivot open,
revealing a series of missiles.

SKY - AS THE F-15 JOCKEYS WITH THE `NO MIGS

		FIGHTER PILOT #1
	I can't get good tone.

		COL. CARLTON
	Take the shot.

The F-15 fires, but the Sidewinder screams past the turning
HiGs.

INT. AIR FORCE ONE, COCKPIT - NIGHT

Tactical computer... Over graph display.

"Offensive Counter Measures Activatedw "Launching Missiles"

ERR. AIR FORCE ONE -

The Flying White House launches two sparrow missiles. The
MiGs release flares, but the Sparrows don't flinch.

Twin FIREBALLS erupt in the sky as the Mics evaporate.

But from the fireball, a MISSILE emerges coming right at Air
Force One.

Closing fast.

		FIGHTER PILOT #2
	Boss, they got one off.

INT. AIR FORCE ONE - NIGHT

On the console... sparks fly.

Tactical computer flashes... "SYSTEM FAILURE"

		"Missile Locked"

MARSHMj What did you touch? What did you touch!?

		ALICE
	Nothing!

Marshall checks display.

		MARSHALL
	Oh shit. It's got us.

EXT. SKY - NIGHT

The missile has Air Force One dead to rights, crawling right
up its tail pipe.

Just before its about to hit the plane...

		FIGHTER PILOT 11
	YAAAAAAAAH!

An F-15 swoops up from below. Like a Secret Service agent
during an assassination attempt...

The F-15 takes the bullet in its mid-section. BOOM!

The blast slams bits of the fighter plane against Air Force
One. Rocking it badly. Chunks of the plane rip away metal
sheeting on the 747's wings and tail section.

INT. F-15 COCKPIT - NIGHT

		COL. CARLTON
	We got six more bogeys, closing fast
	from the south.

EXT. SKY - NIGHT

A squadron of Navy F-14s drops into the theatre. The cavalry.

NAVY SQUADRON LEADER (V.0.)

You Air Force boys get that plane out of here. We'll take
care of those MiGs.

		COL. CARLTON
	Roger that. Kick ass, Navy.

NAVY SQUADRON LEADER (V.0.)

That's affirmative.

INT. COCKPIT - NIGHT

Marshall works the controls of the 747. Tries to engage the
automatic pilot. The system is fried. Marshall wrestles with
the yoke.

		MARSHALL
	Uh, we got a problem here.

		COL. CARLTON
	Just stay on my wing, sir. I'll take
	you all the way in.

		MARSHALL
	No. We're losing fuel and my rudder's
	not responding.

		COL. CARLTON
	Lemme take a look.

EXT. SKY - NIGHT

Canton pulls up and drops back over the plane. He looks down
at the Boeing's wing.

		COL. CARLTON
	Aw, man. You're torn up pretty bad
	out here, sir. Do you have any
	elevater control.

		MARSHALL
	Sluggish... I think it's jammed too.

INT. WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM - NIGHT

		COL. CARLTON
	Uh, Tower, we got a problem up here.

Sir, I got some bad news. Air Force One... there's no way
they can bring it down. Plane's damaged, it's unlandable.

INT. AIR FORCE ONE, COCKPIT - NIGHT

Marshall looks out the side cockpit window, sees Carlton's F-
15 fly steady with his.

		COL. CARLTON
	I'm sorry, sir.

Carlton salutes Marshall. Marshall returns it.

		MARSHALL
	Thanks for your help, Colonel.

INT. WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM - NIGHT

General Northwood collapses into his chair.

		GENERAL NORTHWOOD
	They've got no chutes. They can't
	control the plane, their engines are
	failing and they're losing fuel.

		DEAN
	I prefered the terrorists.

		GENERAL NORTHWOOD
	That's game, set, and match. There's
	nothing to do, except call the Chief
	Justice.

		V.P. CHANDLER
	The Chief Justice? What on earth
	for?

		GENERAL NORTHWOOD
	To swear you in as President.

Dead silence in the room.

General Greely ambles over to the tactical map and just stares
at it. He loosens his tie and scratches his head.

		GENERAL GREELY
	Where's your strike team, General?

		GENERAL NORTHWOOD
	On their way back to Turkey. Why?

		GENERAL GREELY
	I just had the craziest idea.

EXT. SKY - NIGHT

KC-lO Transport plane.

KC-lO PILOT Romeo Tango Zulu. We copy. Change of Orders
acknowledged. We are en route.

The KC-lO banks into a turn.

INT. COCKPIT, AIR FORCE ONE - MIGHT

Alice, Rose and Shepherd stand behind the pilot's seat.

		MARSHALL
		(into header)
	Is it our only option? - Then do it.

Marshall looks to the others.

		MARSHALL
	We're now over the Black Sea, so
	even if they could get us chutes
	we'd drown or die of hypothermia

before they could get to us. We've got one other option
though...

EXT. WHITE HOUSE - NIGHT

Standard news shot. CNN REPORTER facing the camera.

		REPORTER
	incredible, yet unconfirmed reports,
	of White House staff members
	parachuting from the plane while the
	President himself battled these
	terrorists.

INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

A family gathers around their T.V. set to hear the report.

		REPORTER (TELEVISION)
	Yet now, in a bizarre twist of events,
	CNN has learned that Air Force One
	has been severly crippled and is
	virtually unlandable and our sources
	report that the First Family is
	trapped onboard.  A daring mid-air
	rescue operation is said to be
	underway.

INT. COCKPIT, AIR FORCE ONE - NIGHT

		MARSHALL
	How long's it been?

		SHEPHERD
	Twenty five minutes. They should be
	here any moment.

		MARSHALL
	They better. Fuel's almost gone.

Up ahead, navagation lights.

		ALICE
	There they are!

		MARSHALL
	Okay, I'm slowing us down.

INT. MAIN CABIN - NIGHT

Shepherd crosses to the forward cabin door. He follows
directions for emergency door release.

EXT. AIR FORCE ONE - NIGHT

The emergency door opens and the emergency raft/slide deploys.
It inflates before being ripped from the aircraft, gently
wafting through stormy clouds.

INT. MAIN CABIN - NIGHT

Air rushes past the airplane at two hundred miles an hour.

		SHEPHERD
	IT'S OPEN!

INT. COCKPIT -

		MARSHALL
	DO YOU SEE TEEM?

INT. CABIN - NIGHT

		ROSE (O.S.)
	CAN YOU SEE THEM?

Shepherd looks out into the night sky. Inky blackness and
greying clouds. The horizon, though, lightens as dawn
approaches.

Shepherd spots navigational lights descending from above.

		SHEPHERD
	HERE THEY COME!

EXT. KC-LO TRANSPORT - NIGHT

It's side cargo door is wide open. Army Rangers begin winching
out three-inch wide cable.

EXT. SKY - NIGHT

The KC-lO pratically on top of Air Force One. Separated by
forty feet. Super flying.

The cable slaps against the side of Air Force One and drags
along it's edge. As it slides past the open doorway, Shepherd
grabs it and hauls it into the plane until he has its end.
He hooks the cable to a metal clasp at the top of the door
frame.

		SHEPHERD
	WE'RE HOOKED!

INT. AIR FORCE ONE COCKPIT -

		MARSHALL
	We're hooked. Hove into position.

		KC-LO PILOT (RADIO)
	Romeo Tango Zulu, acknowledged. We
	are assuming position.

A red light flashes on the control panel. Engine number two
grinds to a halt. The pressure guages drop to zero.

		MARSHALL
	Get going. We don't have much time
	left.

Rose bends down and kisses Marshall on the cheek.

		ROSE
	I love you. I just wanted you to
	know that.

Marshall holds her with his eye.

		MARSHALL
	I love you too.
		(beat)
	We're going to make it.

Alice throws her arms around her father.

		ALICE
	My school play's Tuesday night.

Promise me you'll be there.

		MARSHALL
	I promise.

Guages show fuel is low on the remaining turbofans.

EXT. SKY -

The transport plane dips into a lateral position. The two
planes are connected by a hundred yards of cable.

FIVE ARMY RANGERS in snatch harnesses slide down the cable
bridge onto Air Force Onefr As they hit the open doorway,
they unclip and sail into the main cabin.

		ARMY RANGER #1
	Let's get you folks out of here.

INT. DEPARTMENT STORE - EVENING

Electronics department. Banks of television sets. Shoppers
watch intently. The audio broadcast plays over a map of the
region and a graphic of Air Force One.

		KC-LO PILOT (V.0.)
	Tower, Air Force One has been boarded.

		TOWER (V.0.)
	Romeo Tango Zulu, copy One the
	television, graphics of the First
	Family against the Presidential Seal.

		REPORTER
	You're listening to an intercepted
	audio feed of radio communications
	between Air Force One and Army Special
	Forces, flying side-by-side,
	attempting to get the first family
	off the damaged aircraft.

INT. MAIN CABIN -

Three Army Rangers harness themselves `to the survivors. One
to Alice, one to Rose and one to Shepherd. The other two
head for the cockpit.

Alice and her Ranger are ready.

		ARMY RANGER
	We're set.

		ALICE
	Mon...

		ROSE
	You can do it, baby.

		ARMY RANGER
	Hold on tight. The first step's a
	bitch.

Alice takes a deep breath, closes her eyes...

The soldier clips on the cable, and shoves off the lip of
the doorway, SAILING DOWN THE WIRE.

They plummet, Alice screaming. The line goes taut.

The pair slide the hundred yards to the KC-lO. Rangers grab
them and bring them into the transport.

INT. DEPARTMENT STORE - EVENING

Shoppers listen to television sets, galvanized.

KC-lO PILOT The first daughter is on-board.

INT. COCKPIT, AIR FORCE ONE - NIGHT

With a smile.

		MARSHALL
	Acknowledged.

Two Army Rangers approach the cockpit.

		ARMY RANGER #1
	Mr. President!

Army Ranger #2 slides into the co-pilot's seat.

		ARMY RANGER #2
	I'll take it, sir. You get going.

INT. MAIN CABIN - NIGHT

Rose clips on to a Ranger's harness.

		ROSE
	Ready!

They clip on the wire, move to the lip, and rappel off the
side of the plane.

INT. AFO UPPER DECK - NIGHT

As the first Ranger leads Marshall through the M.C.C.

WHEN A SHOT RINGS OUT...

The soldier at the flight yoke slumps over dead.

Marshall and the first Ranger swing around to see...

A bloody but smiling Gibbs, lying on the deck, clutching an

MP5.

The Ranger draws his weapon...

But Gibbs swings his rifle around. Pulls the trigger. BAM.

BAM. BAM. Hitting the Ranger.

The Ranger returns fire, shooting round after round at Gibbs
before pitching over, dead.

Gibbs draws a bead on the President, smiles... but he doesn't
have any strength left to pull the trigger. He expires.

And the plane begins to dive. Marshall runs for the cockpit.

EXT. SKY - NIGHT

Rose and her Ranger are pulled aboard the transport.

INT. MAIN CABIN -

Shepherd and his Ranger clip onto the wire, but the KC-lO is
now higher than Air Force One.

INT. AFO COCKPIT -

With Marshall back at the yoke.

		KC-LO PILOT
	Air Force One, you're losing altitude.

		MARSHALL
	I can't hold it!

HANG ON.   KC-LO PILOT (V.0.)

EXT. SN - NIGHT

The KC-lO transport dips lower and lower, trying to maintain
its position under the descending plane.

		KC-LO PILOT
	Tower, Romeo Tango Zulu. The First
	Lady is onboard. Air Force One,
	status?

		MARSHALL
	We've lost two of your men. There's
	no one to fly the plane.

		KC-L0 PILOT (V.0.)
	We can send another one over.

		MARSHALL
	No time. I only have one engine left.

INT. MAIN CABIN - NIGHT

		ARMY RANGER
	Come on!

		SHEPHERD
	What about the President?

		ARMY RANGER
	He's on his way.

With the KC-lO back in the Position, Shepherd and his Ranger
shove off the dying plane toward safety.

TNT. WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM - NIGHT

		KC-L0 PILOT
	The Chief of Staff is onboard. We
	are at six thousand feet descending
	rapidly.

Everyone's biting their nails.

TNT. AIR FORCE ONE COCKPIT - NIGHT

		MARSHALL
	I can't stabilize it.

		KC-LO PILOT
	Sir, we're going to pound pavement
	in less than three minutes.

Marshall holds the yoke in one hand and unclips the snatch
harness from the dead ranger in the co-pilot's seat.

The last red light on the engine control panel starts to
flash.

		MARSHALL
	I'M LOSING NUMBER FOUR!

Marshall, still fighting the yoke, stands. He takes a deep
breatn, drops the wheel and runs like a motherfucker for the
stairs.

EXT. SICY,  AIR FORCE ONE.

Drops into a banking twist.

The cable line runs taut.

The KC-lO tries to compensate.

		TNT. CABIN
	Marshall dives down the stairs from
	the upper deck, comes up sprinting
	for the door.

TNT. AIR FORCE ONE, COCKPIT -

Engine four fails.

INT. WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM -

		KC-1O PILOT (V.0.)
	She's out of control. I can't pace
	her.

INT. MAIN CABIN -

The taut straining cable snaps one corner of the metal clasp.

The clasp starts to bend.

IN SLOW MOTION -

MARSHALL sprinting to the open door.

The clasp twisting. The cable hook ready to slip of f it.

Marshall clips on, and dives out of the door. He slides forty
feet down, when....

The clasp gives. The cable line snaps away from the plane...
one end connected to the KC-l0, the other connected to...

Nothing.

EXT. SKY

Marshall slides down the cable, gripping at it, trying to
break his fall.

Air Force One plummets toward the water.

Marshall sliding, right behind it, running out of cable.

At the end of his rope, literally. Marshall's harness snags
on the end clasp. He hangs on for dear life.

Moments later Air Force One impacts.

A huge EXPLOSION, water and flames blows sky high into the
night.

INT. WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM -

		KC-LO PILOT
	Tower. Air Force One is down...

INT. SPORTS BAR - EVENING

Dead silence as all the patrons stare up at the T.V.

		KC-1O PILOT
	I repeat, Air Force One is down.

		TOWER
	Romeo Tango Zulu. Do you have the
	President?

No response...

INT. WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM - NIGHT

		TOWER
	Romeo Tango Zulu, please respond. Do
	you have the President? Over.

Still no response...

EXT. SKY - NIGHT

The massive fireball and glowing remains of the Presidential
aircraft almost reaches up to where the President struggles
to hold on to the end of the cable.

INT. KC-LO TRANSPORT

		ARMY RANGER
	Winch it up! Winch it up!

EXT. SKY - NIGHT

Marshall slipping off the line, unable to get a solid hold.

His hands slick with blood.

The belly of the KC-lO gets closer and closer.

		MARSHALL
	Come on. Ten mare seconds.

He closes his eyes. His fingers begin to give.

INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

All over America, families, gathered around their televisions,
wait.

		TOWER
	Romeo Tango Zulu, do you have the
	President? Over.

		KC-LO PILOT
	Stand by.

INT. DEPARTMENT STORE - NIGHT

		TOWER
	Romeo Tango Zulu1 this is Tower.

Please report. over.

INT. WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM - NIGHT

A long beat of silence, then...

		TOWER
	Romeo Tango Zulu, do you copy? Do
	you have the President?

Another long beat.

		KC-LO PILOT
	We copy. Stand by...
		(beat)
	Tower?

		TOWER
	Tower, here.

		KC-LO PILOT
	This is Romeo Tango Zulu changing
	call signs.
		(beat)
	Tower, alert air traffic, Romeo Tango
	Zulu is now Air Force One.
		(beat)
	This is Air Force One... The President
	is safe onboard.

		TOWER
	Copy, Air Force One.

Cheers flood the situation room.

Cheers flood the Department Store.

Cheers flood the press room, the living room, the sports
bars, churches, schools, construction sites, hospitals...
all across America.

INT. KC-1O HOLD - DAWN

Marshall huddles tight with Rose and Alice as a MEDIC attends
to their wounds.

		ARMY RANGER
	Mr. President?

Marshall turns to see this soldier, a fresh-faced, 19-year-
old kid, saluting his Commander-in-chief.

		ARMY RANGER
	Welcome aboard, sir.

Marshall returns the salute.

EXT. SKY - DAWN

The KC-1O soars into the emerging sunrise, flying in the
center of the remaining F-l5 formation.

FADE TO BLACK
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