Enemy of the State (1998)

FADE IN:

EXT. SHENANDOAH NATIONAL PARK, SCENIC VIEW LOT - MORNING

Shenandoah mountains. A cold dawn. TWO BLACK TOWN CARS
sit side by side, facing a view of a farming valley below.

Two MEN in dark suits and long coats stand near the
cars, casually on the lookout. If we caught a glimpse
underneath the coat of the taller of the two, we'd see
that he was carrying a 9mm. Glock.

INT. BLACK TOWN CAR - CONTINUOUS

In the backseat of the car sit HAMERSLEY and REYNOLDS,
each well-kept and in his early 50's.

		REYNOLDS
	"I know thy works and thy labour
	and how thou canst not bear them
	that are evil. And thou hast tried
	them who say they are apostles and
	hast found them to be liars".
	Revelations II.

		HAMERSLEY
	What the hell does it mean?

		REYNOLDS
	It means who's side are you on?

		HAMERSLEY
	You didn't ask me to meet you 30
	miles from my office for a Bible
	study class.

		REYNOLDS
	It's a bi-partisan issue. Everyone
	needs to swallow hard. No one,
	including you, wants to be fingered
	as the one obstructing efforts to
	crack down on terrorism, and--

		HAMERSLEY
	Fuck you.

		REYNOLDS
	What?

		HAMERSLEY
	I said fuck you.

		REYNOLDS
	Is that anyway to talk to an old
	school chum?

		HAMERSLEY
	You're gonna finger me as soft on
	terrorism? Terrorism, you
	unconscionable asshole?

		REYNOLDS
	There are planes falling out of the
	sky, buildings blowing up. American
	buildings. Americans getting bombs
	in the mail. What are we gonna do!?

		HAMERSLEY
	We're not gonna hand you and your
	band of lunatics the keys to the
	kingdom. I'm not gonna sit in
	Congress and write a law that
	allows the NSA to point a camera
	and a microphone at anything they
	damn well feel like. And the next
	time you have something to say to
	me, we do it above-board, in my
	office, like everyone else. Now get
	outa my car, I've got a committee
	meeting on the hill.

REYNOLDS regards HAMERSLEY a moment, then opens the car
door--

EXT. PARKWAY - MORNING

HAMERSLEY's car snakes down the twisting mountain road.

INT. HAMERSLEY'S CAR - CONTINUOUS

HAMERSLEY MAKES VERBAL NOTES concerning the Reynolds
meeting into his memo-recorder as he drives. He picks
up his cellular phone and punches in a number.

		VOICE (O.S.)
	Senator Albert's office--

The line goes dead.

HAMERSLEY tries again but can't get a dial tone. Then,
in the rear-view mirror, a BROWN SEDAN gains fast.
Whoever the guy is, he's flying. Then a man with a
rifle leans out the sedan's window. Aims.

HAMERSLEY flies into a blind curve. Tires SCREECH as he
rounds the bend to see

A PROPANE TRUCK. Blocking both lanes of the road.

HAMERSLEY's eyes widen. He stomps the brakes, SKIDS and
SLAMS into the truck. The EXPLOSION engulfs everything.
HAMERSLEY and the car are consumed. The pursuing sedan
slows to a stop. The men watch. The car's an inferno.

The MEN pull a 'U' and drive away.

INT. CRYSTAL CITY, VIRGINIA, TALL OFFICE BLDG. - DAY

A well-appointed big-city law office filled with
citations of merit and pictures of a wife and child.

ROBERT DEAN, a likable young lawyer, sits behind his
desk with his back to an OLDER MAN. He stares at a
commanding view of Washington, D.C. as he listens to a
tired, smoke and whiskey voice.

		OLDER MAN (L.T.)
	I don't know how much longer we can
	hold out, Mr. Dean.

		DEAN
	I don't know, either, L.T. Maybe
	you guys should get yourself a
	labor lawyer.

		L.T.
	Well that's why I'm here, Mr. Dean.
	'Cause you're a labor lawyer.

		DEAN
	Good point.

		L.T.
	Last night, Larry Spinks, he works
	the Steel Press, he goes to a bar
	with his wife Rosalie to have a
	glass of chianti 'cause it's his
	birthday, and these two guys, these
	Guido mother-fuckers, they jump him
	when he goes to the bathroom.

		DEAN
	L.T., in this office I'd prefer you
	say Italian-Americans.

		L.T.
	I'm sorry, Mr. Dean. But Larry's in
	St. Lukes now, so I'm a little--I'm
	not myself. The Union bosses say
	unless we take Bellmoth's offer,
	it'll only get worse.

		DEAN
	That's because your Union bosses
	are those Guido mother-fuckers.

		L.T.
	I don't under--

		DEAN
	The Union's trying to railroad you
	into accepting terms worse than
	what you have now.

		L.T.
	Why would the Union--

DEAN swivels around in his chair and faces L.T.

		DEAN
	Because they've been paid off by
	Bellmoth.

		L.T.
	Mr. Dean--

		DEAN
	My name's Bobby. I'm your lawyer.
	Don't do anything 'till I talk to you.

DEAN gets up and walks a grateful L.T. to the door,
calling to his secretary as they go--

		DEAN (CONT'D)
		(calling)
	Martha!

MARTHA appears in the doorway...

		DEAN (CONT'D)
	Larry Spinks, St. Lukes. Send him a
	case of chianti from the firm. And
	send his wife Rosalie some flowers.

EXT. RESTAURANT - DAY

		RACHEL
	How's the trout?

		DEAN
	It tastes like fish.

		RACHEL
	It is fish.

		DEAN
	I mean it tastes like every other
	fish I've ever had. Every fish
	tastes the same.

		RACHEL
	Do you like fish?

		DEAN
	Not that much.

DEAN dines in a booth with RACHEL BANKS, 30's. RACHEL
opens her briefcase, removing an 8x10 envelope.

		RACHEL
	Here's what you asked for. Brill's
	note said it was everything you'd
	need to, shall we say, coax DePinto--

		DEAN
	When do I get to meet him?

		RACHEL
	DePinto?

		DEAN
	Brill.

		RACHEL
	Never.

		DEAN
	That wasn't the answer I was hoping
	for.

		RACHEL
	What answer were you--

DEAN is reaching inside his jacket pocket. He removes
an envelope marked "BRILL".

		DEAN
	"Soon". Or at least sooner than never.

		RACHEL
	It's how he works.

		DEAN
	Brill?

		RACHEL
	Yes.

		DEAN
	So you've said.

DEAN hands her the envelope.

		DEAN (CONT'D)
	Ten thousand cash. I don't know if
	it's Brill's prices going up or
	your commission.

		RACHEL
	I take a straight 15 percent.
	Brill's fee varies with risk.
	Perhaps you'd be more comfortable
	using someone else.

		DEAN
	Other than Brill.

		RACHEL
	Other than me.

		DEAN
	Why would I--

		RACHEL
	Someone with whom you don't have
	quite so personal a--

		DEAN
	I like our history. And I like you.
	I'd probably like Brill if I ever
	got to--

		RACHEL
	He doesn't work that way.

		DEAN
	I just want to make sure I'm not
	breaking the law.

		RACHEL
	You're not.

		DEAN
	How can I be sure.

		RACHEL
	I wouldn't let you. Good luck with
	DePinto.

		DEAN
		(pause)
	Thank you.

		RACHEL
	Eat your fish.

		DEAN (V.O.)
	Mr. DePinto? My name's Robert Dean.
	I'm an attorney with Seth, Silverberg.

EXT. BUSY STREET - DAY

DEAN weaves his BMW through D.C. bumper-to-bumper
traffic as he eyes the photos that Rachel gave him
which are lying on the passenger seat. The photos show
DePINTO sitting in a motel lounge with TWO MOB TYPES.
He's talking on the phone.

INTERCUT WITH:

INT. BELLMOTH STEEL OFFICE - CONTINUOUS

		DEPINTO
	What can I do for you?

		DEAN
	Well, I was hoping you might stop
	by my office to swear out a
	criminal deposition against some of
	your friends and co-workers.

		DEPINTO
		(pause)
	Is this a fuckin' joke?

		DEAN
	I don't believe it is, no.

		DEPINTO
	Why the hell would I--

		DEAN
	I've got photographs of you at the
	Trenton Ramada looking very--

		DEPINTO
	That ain't me.

		DEAN
	It's not?

		DEPINTO
	You don't know who the fuck--

		DEAN
	That's not you having a whiskey
	sour with Carmine Morada.

		DEPINTO
	This is fucked. You don't know
	who's in that--

		DEAN
	You're right, Mr. DePinto, and
	maybe I jumped the gun.

		DEPINTO
	You're goddam right you jumped the gun.

		DEAN
	That's probably not you in the
	picture. I tell you what, I'll just
	run the thing by the Grand Jury,
	see if they can't--

		DEPINTO
	I want to talk to a goddam lawyer.

		DEAN
	Good news there, Mr. DePinto,
	you're talking to one.

EXT. MOUNTAIN ROAD - DAY

News helicopters hover over Hamersley's wreck as police
direct traffic around the media circus.

INT. OLD CAR - CONTINUOUS

DAN ZAVITZ, looks older than he is, balding with a
weight problem, sweats behind SLAPPING wipers of a
beater car plastered with environmental issue stickers.
NPR drones on the radio as a police car crawls behind
him, SIREN YELPING, lights flashing, trying to get by.

		ZAVITZ
	Alright, alright already, I see you.

ZAVITZ POV: Wreckage surrounded by squad cars,
ambulances and media circus. Something's happened.
Something big.

EXT. SHENANDOAH NATIONAL PARK - DAY

A tall ladder leans against a dead oak. ZAVITZ sweats
and climbs to a branch where a platform's been built
supporting a large phony bird's nest. He lifts away the
nest, revealing--

--Two microphones and three motion-activated digital
video cameras and recorders. ZAVITZ checks the cameras'
viewfinders to see--

--TIME-CODED VIEWS - WIDE, MEDIUM AND CLOSE of a
squirrel's nest containing three newborns. The parents
are nowhere to be seen.

ZAVITZ eyes the recorders. The video disks are spent.
He ejects and pockets them, replacing them with fresh ones.

EXT. SOUTHEAST CAPITOL DISTRICT - DAY

An old building needing rehab. A SIDEWALK VENDOR does
brisk business, we DRIFT to an apartment window above.

		TV NEWSCASTER (V.O.)
	Police are labeling it an accident
	but promise a full investigation.

INT. ZAVITZ APARTMENT - CONTINUOUS

ZAVITZ is staring intently at his computer monitor. We
don't know yet what he's looking at, but he's scared to
death as we continue to listen to the NEWS REPORT...

		NEWSCASTER (O.S.)
	Don Hamersley, senior GOP
	congressional leader, was serving
	as a negotiator on the House/Senate
	sub-committee studying the Anti-
	Terror Bill...

ZAVITZ leans in a little closer to get a better look at
his computer screen, not wanting to believe what he's
seeing...

		NEWSCASTER (CONT'D) (O.S.)
	...the controversial legislation
	that would give various law
	enforcement agencies expanded
	authority in the fight against
	terrorism.

And now we see what ZAVITZ is staring at on his
computer monitor. The film he shot at SHENANDOAH PARK...

...the meeting between HAMERSLEY and REYNOLDS.

		NEWSCASTER (CONT'D) (O.S.)
	Known as the Voice of Caution,
	Hamersley was an outspoken advocate
	of...

ZAVITZ reaches over, picks up the phone, and punches in
some numbers with one hand. With the other, he punches
some keystrokes on the computer. The screen zooms in on
REYNOLDS, getting out of HAMERSLEY's car.

		NEWSCASTER (CONT'D) (O.S.)
	Sixty-eight years old, Hamersley
	leaves behind a wife and four children.

		ZAVITZ
		(into phone)
	Tell him it's Zavitz. I need to
	speak to him. Tell him it's important.

INTERCUT WITH:

INT. NEWSPAPER OFFICE - SAME TIME

A cluttered office belonging to a radical, fringe
newspaper. ALFONSO, mid-50's, long, graying hair, works
at a computer.

		ALFONSO
	Zavitz, what? You want your old job
	back?

		ZAVITZ
	Listen to me--

		ALFONSO
	Tired of chasing squirrels around
	the park?

		ZAVITZ
	Listen--

		ALFONSO
	Lemme ask you something. I put a
	bird feeder out in the yard, but
	the squirrels, they keep taking--

		ZAVITZ
	Turn on CNN.

		ALFONSO
	They keep taking the bird seed. I
	thought since you're the expert on--

		ZAVITZ
	Goddammit, shut the fuck up and
	turn on CNN!

		ALFONSO
	Alright, I made a joke about
	squirrels, don't get so--

		ZAVITZ
	Do it!

ALFONSO clicks his TV to CNN. The HAMERSLEY re-cap is
still on.

		NEWSCASTER (V.O.)
	Once again, police at this point
	are calling Hamersley's death an
	accident...

		ZAVITZ
	I was doing motion-activated taping
	up in Shenandoah. That's where
	Hamersley had his accident. He
	wasn't alone. He met someone. They
	argued.

		ALFONSO
	You've got it on tape?

		ZAVITZ
	Clear as day.

		ALFONSO
	Who else have you told?

INT. TECH ROOM - CONTINUOUS

A place with mind-boggling technology and high-tech
recording devices. DAT recorders spin silently.

		ZAVITZ (O.S.)
		(through speakers)
	No one. But I'm a little nervous.

		ALFONSO (O.S.)
		(through speakers)
	When can you get it here?

		ZAVITZ (O.S.)
		(through speakers)
	I'm doing a transfer now.

		ALFONSO (O.S.)
		(through speakers)
	Come straight here. Don't talk to
	anyone.

		ZAVITZ (O.S.)
		(through speakers)
	I'll come straight there.

		ALFONSO (O.S.)
		(through speakers)
	Be careful, Danny.

INT. TOWN CAR - DAY

CLOSE ON REYNOLDS sitting in the back. Well-dressed and
alone, he reviews a bible. His cellular phone RINGS. We
HEAR static as two encrypted lines find digital
compatibility. Finally, a confirmation TONE--

		REYNOLDS
	Go ahead.

INTERCUT WITH:

EXT. KENT ISLAND - SAME TIME

Misty forests sweep down a hill to the Chesapeake Bay.
A road leads to a high-voltage security fence and
guard-shack. Beyond are several windowless concrete
structures bristling with microwave antennas and
satellite dishes. A sign reads:

		KENT ISLAND RESEARCH FACILITY
	 Prohibited Area. No Photos or Sketches.
		Violators Subject to Immediate Arrest and Fine
		Under Penalties of the Internal Security Act

SUPER:

NSA SIGINT INTERCEPT STATION - KENT ISLAND, MARYLAND

INT. TECH ROOM - CONTINUOUS

The banks of high-tech digital recorders record
incessantly as a TECHNICIAN holds a phone to his ear.

		TECHNICIAN
		(into phone)
	Someone had automated cameras in
	the park. A nature photographer.

		REYNOLDS
	Jesus H. Christ.

		SILVERBERG (V.O.)
	How're we with pre-trials. Ms.
	Saunders.

INT. DEAN'S LAW FIRM, CONFERENCE ROOM - DAY

Packed seats around a long conference table. The entire
law firm reviews the proceedings. DIANE SAUNDERS
answers the questions from her senior partner.

		SAUNDERS
	I'm expecting a favorable ruling
	this afternoon on the evidenciary
	motion, but I could use some more
	manpower with the interrogatories.

		SILVERBERG
	Mr. Dean, would you care to give Ms.
	Saunders a hand with the
	interrogatories.

		DEAN
	God knows I would, sir, but I have
	a previous engagement this evening.

		SILVERBERG
	And may I ask what could possibly
	be more important than Fawell Oil v.
	U.S. Environmental Agency?

		DEAN
	I have to go lingerie shopping.

		STILWELL
	Lingerie shopping?

		DEAN
	A Christmas present for my wife.

		SILVERBERG
	Go to Harrison's. They've got
	models that'll try the garments on
	for you.

		SAUNDERS
	Bobby, this is a 40 million dollar
	client. I really need some help
	tonight.

		DEAN
	Diane, maybe you didn't hear Mr.
	Silverberg. They've got models
	that'll try on the garments.
		(to SILVERBERG)
	Thank you, sir.

		SILVERBERG
	Merry Christmas, son.

EXT. OLD BROWNSTONES - AFTERNOON

Establishing. Apartments on upper floors, businesses on
lower.

INT. ZAVITZ APARTMENT - CONTINUOUS

Jacket on, ready to leave, ZAVITZ sits at his computer
finishing a transfer. A TONE beeps as a COMPUTER TIME
GRAPH sweeps to 'finished'. The screen reads: TRANSFER
COMPLETE.

There's a KNOCK at the door...

...ZAVITZ looks over.

		ZAVITZ
		(pause)
	Yes?

		MAN'S VOICE (O.S.)
	Federal Express for 'Zavitz'.

		ZAVITZ
	Federal Express?

		MAN'S VOICE (O.S.)
	For Daniel Zavitz. I just need a
	signature.

		ZAVITZ
		(beat)
	How'd you get in the building?

		MAN'S VOICE (O.S.)
	The door was open, sir. I just need
	a signature.

ZAVITZ disconnects a video digitizer, removes a game-
cartridge containing the digitized video...

...and inserts it into a Gameboy.

He steps to the door and eyes the peep-hole.

ZAVITZ POV: A fish-eye view of a Fed-Ex man, JONES,
looking bored.

		ZAVITZ
	Can you tell me who it's from?

		JONES
		(checking label)
	Micro-Tel Electronics. Sunland.

		ZAVITZ
	Can you--would it be possible to
	leave it by the door?

		JONES
	Not without a signature.

		ZAVITZ
		(stepping to the window)
	All right. Okay. Just give me a minute.

ZAVITZ POV: TWO DWP INSTALLERS hovering in a bucket
across the street. Down below, a cargo van with a
multiple roof antenna is double parked near a Fed-Ex
van. Then--

--Through a street window's reflection, ZAVITZ sees his
building's front entrance. SEVERAL TENANTS are being
prevented from entering by TWO MEN, plain clothes, one
with a radio communicator pressed to his ear.

Shit.

ZAVITZ backs from the window, seized by panic. He grabs
his phone...

...dead.

He picks up his fax line. Also dead.

He grabs the GameBoy, goes to a small side window and
opens it. A ledge snakes around the corner. An athlete
he's not but there's no choice. He squeezes out.

INT. ZAVITZ BLDG. STAIRWELL - CONTINUOUS

PRATT, wearing a Fed-Ex uniform, is laying in wait.

		RADIO VOICE (O.S.)
		(through PRATT's earphone)
	Go to three. Go to three. Package
	is out the window.

PRATT sprints down the hall, pulling out his pistol, as

JONES kicks in Zavitz's door and rushes in. The
window's open. JONES looks out as the last of ZAVITZ
goes around the corner of the ledge.

		RADIO VOICE (O.S.)
		(through JONES's headset)
	305 to 308. We've got the eyeball.

EXT. ROOFTOP - CONTINUOUS

It's the rooftop ZAVITZ is heading to. Two MEN crouch
behind a wall, watching ZAVITZ approach.

		MAN #1
		(into headset)
	We'll take delivery from here.

ZAVITZ inches along, scared breathless. He looks back.

No one.

Maybe he was wrong.

A pigeon suddenly flies by...ZAVITZ loses his balance,
struggles...and falls.

He crashes through an awning and into a sidewalk fruit
stand.

Dazed, ZAVITZ crawls to his feet as passersby watch
speechless.

Things happen fast. The cargo van rips from the curb
but is suddenly blocked by a delivery truck. HORNS BLAST.

HICKS, 30's and athletic, leaps from the van.

Fears confirmed, ZAVITZ starts down the sidewalk,
shakes off pain, and moves to a run.

Except now there's someone in front of him. He's
trapped. Reaching a doorway, ZAVITZ pushes. The door
opens to--

INT. RESTAURANT SUPPLY SHOP - CONTINUOUS

ZAVITZ charges through and kicks open a fire door. An
alarm blasts as he exits to--

EXT. ALLEYWAY - CONTINUOUS

A garbage truck screams up the alley. There's no way to
outrun it. There's a fire escape above a dumpster.
Breath rasping, he struggles on the dumpster, pulling
himself up the ladder just as the truck OBLITERATES all
below.

ZAVITZ struggles and climbs. Reaching a landing, he
pauses for breath...

...and sees HICKS and two others just moments behind.
ZAVITZ grabs a fire escape door, tugs, pulls and bangs
it open to--

INT. A DILAPIDATED HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS

ZAVITZ hurtles by, trips, get up, runs again, adrenaline
pumping as PURSUING SOUNDS near. He pitches down a
staircase, shoves TWO PEOPLE and rips through--

INT. COFFEE SHOP - CONTINUOUS

He flies past the diners and exits into--

EXT. BUSY STREET - CONTINUOUS

HICKS and ANOTHER fly out of the diner, just in time to
see ZAVITZ melting in with Christmas shoppers that are
entering a department store.

We see that the large sign over the entrance to the
store reads: "HARRISON'S".

INT. HARRISON'S DEPARTMENT STORE - EVENING

An upscale store packed with Christmas shoppers.

At a fashion ramp, a small crowd of mostly WOMEN have
gathered to watch leggy models feature a particular
line of lingerie. Mixed in among this group is DEAN, a
shopping bag in each hand, his briefcase tucked under
one arm, trying his best to affect an air of the
studious shopper.

		WOMAN'S VOICE (O.S.)
	May I help you?

		DEAN
		(startled)
	Hm?!

The WOMAN is sales clerk who's been in this situation
before.

		SALES CLERK
	Do you see anything you like?

		DEAN
	I'm married.

		SALES CLERK
	That's fine.

		DEAN
	I'm married to my wife...of several
	years...and I'd like to buy...as a
	Christmas present...

		SALES CLERK
	You'd like to buy your wife some
	lingerie as a Christmas gift.

		DEAN
	Yes. I have her permission.

		SALES CLERK
	It's okay. I think it's a wonderful
	gift.

		DEAN
	Can you help me?

		SALES CLERK
	How 'bout Christian Dior?

		DEAN
	Is that good?

		SALES CLERK
	Very good.

		DEAN
	I don't know anything about this.
	Well, I mean, I know a little
	about--from a certain perspective.
	My point is, I don't want to do
	anything foolish.

		SALES CLERK
	It's a little late for that.

		DEAN
	I'll say.

		SALES CLERK
	What size?

		DEAN
	Pardon?

		SALES CLERK
	What size?

		DEAN
	Eight.  Size eight.

		SALES CLERK
	I'll be right back.

		DEAN
	Thanks.

		SALES CLERK
	Remain calm.

		DEAN
	Okay.

The SALES CLERK goes around the counter to the rear
area. DEAN glances at the fashion show when he glimpses--

ZAVITZ, hurrying through the women's dressing area,
desperately looking for an exit. No luck. ZAVITZ moves
toward DEAN, about to break for the front, but HICKS is
there searching. Trapped, ZAVITZ ducks behind a display.

DEAN watches, unaware of ZAVITZ's pursuers. Then it
clicks...

		DEAN
	Daniel?

ZAVITZ turns, frightened....

		DEAN (CONT'D)
	It's me, Robert Dean.
		(beat)
	From Seth, Silverberg. I worked on--

		ZAVITZ
	Bobby--

		DEAN
	It's been a few years.

		ZAVITZ
	Yeah.

		DEAN
	I'm just doing some Christmas
	shopping. It's for my wife, no
	kidding. Though, this isn't the
	main present, it's just, you know,
	a little--

		ZAVITZ
	I need help.

		DEAN
	Tell me about it.

		ZAVITZ
	How can I reach you?

		DEAN
		(beat)
	Are you okay?

		ZAVITZ
	Are you still in Crystal City?

		DEAN
	Yeah, what's going on?

		SALES CLERK (O.S.)
	I think she'll like this very much.

		DEAN
	Listen, Daniel, hang on one second.

		SALES CLERK
	For that matter, I think you will too.

		DEAN
		(to the SALES CLERK)
	Could you give me just a moment to
	talk to a friend of mine here? Not
	about this, but...Daniel?

DEAN looks around...

...ZAVITZ is gone.

EXT. HARRISON'S DEPARTMENT STORE - EVENING

Out on the street, ZAVITZ shoves into a group of
shoppers waiting for the light. Then he sees HICKS and
his PARTNER. They see him.

Fuck the light.

ZAVITZ runs into the street as--

--a BUS speeds through yellow. ZAVITZ is caught in its
path.

BAM!

Only stunned witnesses remain.

DEAN exits the department store. He sees the commotion
and makes his way over.

		DEAN
		(to a bystander)
	What happened?

		BYSTANDER
	A guy got hit by a bus.

		DEAN
	Ah, Jesus.

SIRENS can be heard in the distance. DEAN eyes the
ground where the body lays. He sees Zavitz's BLOODY
JACKET...

		DEAN
		(quietly)
	Ah...Jesus.

EXT. ANNAPOLIS - NIGHT

DEAN's BMW drives through a neighborhood of stately
homes, all magnificently decorated for Christmas.

INT. DEAN'S BMW - CONTINUOUS

DEAN drives, a little shaken by events. The RADIO plays
an AT&T COMMERCIAL relaying the joys of home tele-
conferencing. DEAN enters the driveway of his picture-
perfect home.

INT. DEAN'S HOME/FOYER - NIGHT

DEAN enters with his shopping bags and briefcase.
Searching for family members, he enters--

INT. DEAN'S HOME/DEN - NIGHT

DEAN's 8 year old son, ERIC and Eric's friend DYLAN sit
by the big-screen TV, glued to a video game. A NANNY is
nearby, lost in a magazine.

		DEAN
	Excuse me, have any of you seen an
	eight year old boy, good looking,
	about yea-big.

		ERIC
	Hi, dad.

		DYLAN
	Hi, Mr. Dean.

		DEAN
	Hello. Hello, Maria.

		NANNY (MARIA)
	Hello, Mr. Dean.

		ERIC
	We can't get to the fourth level.
	We keep getting vaporized by the
	Black Knight.

		DEAN
	You're learning a cruel lesson.

		ERIC
	Are those my Christmas presents?

		DEAN
	Some of 'em.

		ERIC
	Can I open 'em up?

		DEAN
	Sure, go ahead.

		ERIC
	Really?

		DEAN
	In your dreams.

		ERIC
	Dad!

		DEAN
		(to DYLAN)
	You staying for dinner?

		DYLAN
	Is it okay?

		DEAN
	You got any money?

		ERIC
	He's kidding.

		DEAN
	Where's mom?

		ERIC
	She's in the kitchen.

INT. KITCHEN - NIGHT

The kitchen is in the midst of a remodel. A wall-
mounted TV is showing "CROSSFIRE", where the two HOSTS
are mediating a battle between TWO SENATORS.

STACY watches the show with one eye, cooks with the other.

		SENATOR TASKEN (TV)
	Laws service society and they need
	to be flexible to meet changing
	demands. We've got to be able to
	deal with a terrorist threat before
	it occurs.

DEAN enters...

		DEAN
	Hey.

		STACY
	This guy's a fat-assed Rotarian gasbag.

		DEAN
	Uh-oh.

		STACY
	Listen to him.

		SENATOR TASKEN (TV)
	This is no longer a theoretical
	problem, it's a reality. Turn on
	the news. Bombings, hostages--

		DEAN
	He's got a point.

		STACY
	Bobby!

		DEAN
	Not a very good one, but--

		STACY
	So you tap everyone's phone? You
	use computers to probe financial
	records? New Search and Seizure laws?

		DEAN
	Just for the criminals.

		STACY
	We won't suspend the civil rights
	of the good people.

		DEAN
	Right.

		STACY
	You should take this seriously.

		DEAN
	I think you're taking it seriously
	enough for both of us.

He kisses her. A good one.

		STACY
		(softer)
	You're a lawyer. Don't you care
	what's going on around you?

		DEAN
	Something bad happened tonight.

		STACY
	What?

		DEAN
	I saw a man die.

		STACY
	What do you mean?

		DEAN
	In front of Harrison's, he got hit
	by a bus. I knew him. The firm did
	some pro bono work for his
	organization a few years back.

		STACY
		(beat)
	I'm sorry.

		DEAN
	The thing is, when I saw him, it
	seemed like he wanted to tell me...
		(beat)
	...he was upset about something and
	he said...
		(beat)
	Doesn't matter now.  I'm gonna wash up.

		STACY
	What'd you buy at Harrison's?

		DEAN
	A toaster. And no terrorist talk at
	dinner. You're spookin' the kids.

DEAN heads upstairs...

		REYNOLDS (V.O.)
	"Do thou, O Lord, protect us--

INT. CATECHISM CLASSROOM - SAME TIME

REYNOLDS lectures a class of young CATECHISM STUDENTS.

		REYNOLDS (CONT'D)
	--guard us ever from this generation.
	On every side the wicked prowl, as
	vileness is exalted among the sons
	of men." Psalms 12.7 and 12.8. Tell
	me what this means, Mr. O'Brian.

		O'BRIAN
	It means--

REYNOLDS cellular phone rings. He opens his briefcase
and takes it out.

INT. HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS 

REYNOLDS busts out of the room, phone to his ear. Two
MEN IN SUITS wait like pit bulls, ready for anything.
Over the phone, we HEAR CONNECTING HANDSHAKES as the
lines find digital compatibility.

INTERCUT WITH:

HARRISON'S DEPARTMENT STORE - CONTINUOUS

The store is now closed.

INT. SECURITY OFFICE - CONTINUOUS

HICKS holds a cellular phone as PRATT questions the
SALES CLERK. Nearby, a monitor shows a time-coded
surveillance tape of the lingerie section. DEAN and
ZAVITZ are in playback, engaged in their earlier meeting.

Finally, a confirming tone...

		REYNOLDS
	What happened?

		HICKS
	He's dead. An accident. Hit by a bus.

		REYNOLDS
	What about the tapes?

		HICKS
	We found the originals.

		REYNOLDS
	The originals?

		HICKS
	There was a transfer.

		REYNOLDS
	Am I to understand--

		HICKS
	He never made it to the newspaper,
	but there was private sector contact.

		REYNOLDS
	Who?

		HICKS
	Several indiscriminates and one
	primary who we've ID'd as Robert
	Dean. A Crystal City attorney.
		(silence)
	Mr. Reynolds?
		(silence)
	Sir?

		REYNOLDS
	Contact COINTEL. Profile. Assess
	the threat. Then cross-check
	against Zavitz. Red-flag the
	intersects and anything we can
	exploit. Also NRO. Pull up the
	keyhole tapes. I need to own him. I
	need to own him now.

EXT. NATIONAL SECURITY AGENCY, BLDG 227 - DAY

Establishing. Fort Meade. A massive complex surrounded
by razor wire and surveillance cameras.

SUPER: NATIONAL SECURITY AGENCY, FORT MEADE, MARYLAND

We PUSH IN on one building several blocks long. Its
roof is bristling with antennas, dishes and domes.

INT. BUILDING/A LARGE SPACE - CONTINUOUS

TIGHT ON MANILA folder stamped

		TOP SECRET - UMBRA
		HANDLE VIA COMINT CHANNELS ONLY
			HAND CARRY - NO COPIES

A SKINNY MAN clutches the folder, walking by endless
cubicles of high-tech industriousness. He stops where
an ANALYST types on a terminal near a retinal scanner.
The ANALYST opens the folder to see a request for a
PRIORITY WRAP on ROBERT DEAN, followed by a Social
Security Number. The ANALYST enters in the number.

A MONTAGE OF IMAGES GAINING IN SPEED--

CLOSE on COMPUTER SCREENS showing in the harvesting of
DEAN's electrical identity. His phone bills scroll by.
Names, addresses, employment people called--

Months, years flashing by quickly. Other data banks are
probed. Insurance policies, credit histories, video
rentals, library checkouts, school transcripts, ATM
transactions, tax returns...everything. Irregularities
are red-flagged.

A matching ZAVITZ ITEM is found. DEAN's banking info is
red-flagged. He has large cash withdrawals with no
matching purchases. His withdrawal dates match up with
unaccounted-for cash deposits...

...in RACHEL BANKS' savings account.

CLOSE ON PRINTER. Conclusions spill out labeled "RISK".
More probes are recommended into the RACHEL BANKS/ROBERT
DEAN money connection.

CLOSE ON EYE BEING SCANNED - We HEAR a TONE.

PULL BACK to a PREGNANT WOMAN sitting with her head
pressed to the scanner. A second verification TONE
sounds. A poster above her work station reads:

		IN A DIGITAL WORLD
		NUMBERS DON'T LIE - PEOPLE DO

She enters a phone number in her terminal. The computer
DIALS. She waits, snacking on rice cakes. Finally,
another computer ANSWERS. On screen appears: PAC-TEL
TESTING BOARD. The screen fills with choices. She
highlights -

		AT&T LINE-VERIFICATION REQUEST
		LOG-IN ACCESS CODE

She enters another command. A new prompt reads: ENTER
LINE REQUEST NUMBER.

Eyeing DEAN's folder, she enters the phone number and
commands "ENTER". "RECORD".

The telephone tap is instant.

A VOICE GRAPH appears in-sync with CONVERSATION now
coming over the speakers.

		DEAN (O.S.)
		(mid-conversation, over speakers)
	Diane's instinct is that it's sabre
	rattling. I think they're gonna
	file suit.

She enters more commands. An Automated-Voice-Transcriber
kicks in. DEAN's CONVERSATION is now transcribed
automatically.

INT. NRO, KEYHOLE-12 LAB - CONTINUOUS

A massive, dark place growing with monitors and tech.

SUPER: NATIONAL RECONNAISSANCE ORGANIZATION, CHANTILLY,
       VIRGINIA

Names of world regions are posted above endless monitor
screens displaying live, digital-image feeds of Earth
coming in from the Keyhole-12 Spy Satellites. Every
populated area of the planet is covered here. ANALYSTS
attend the many feeds.

A poster reads:

		THE KEYHOLE '12' SERIES
		MAKING THE WORLD AN HONEST PLACE

On another poster, a man's running shadow in a target
bulls-eye with a caption reading:

		YOU ARE A SECURITY TARGET

Beneath a sign reading U.S. North-East Coastal Region,
an ANALYST reviews time-coded, digital SAT videos of
Washington, D.C. As seen from space, the Capitol
appears to be nothing more than a greyish mass. The
ANALYST keys commands into his system.

CLOSE ON MONITOR - The overhead SAT view of Washington
moves in closer, soon streets are discernible, then
cars and buses - then an accident in an intersection
with flashing ambulance lights and a bus. A body lies
twisted in the street - it's ZAVITZ.

The ANALYST enters additional commands. The ZAVITZ/bus
accident freezes, then plays in reverse as if recorded
by the eye of God.  The scene continues reversing,
following close on Zavitz as he back-tracks into
Harrison's Department Store.

INT. ANOTHER VIDEO LAB - SAME TIME

CLOSE ON ANOTHER ANALYST facing three monitors showing
additional views of ZAVITZ's escape as captured by a
traffic camera, an ATM camera and the security inside
Harrison's.

		FIEDLER (O.S.)
	We've checked everything. NRO tapes,
	traffic surveillance monitors -

INT. IMAGE ENHANCEMENT LAB

TWO TECHIES huddle by a monitor overseen by FIEDLER, a
computer expert. The monitor displays the Harrison's
surveillance tape of the ZAVITZ/DEAN meeting.

		FIEDLER (CONT'D)
	- and two ATM cameras. The one
	showing promise, though, is this
	security camera from the department
	store.
		(to TECHIE)
	Freeze there.

The TECHIE hits a command. ZAVITZ and DEAN freeze on
screen.

		FIEDLER (CONT'D)
	Times ten.

The TECHIE boxes the area to be enhanced. He types
commands. The boxed area increases ten-fold.

		FIEDLER (CONT'D)
	Focus on the drop.

The enlarged view shifts to DEAN's gift bags. The
picture's fuzzy. Someone passes by, blocking the view
at a crucial moment.

		FIEDLER (CONT'D)
	Enhance, then forward, frame by
	frame...

More keystrokes. The computer takes over, clarifying
the image with passes of resolution.

HICKS leans in closer as the image of the bag inches
forward.

		FIEDLER (CONT'D)
	Just before the view's blocked,
	Zavitz reaches in his jacket for
	something. When the view returns,
	there's a shape change in Dean's
	bag. See the shadow variance? We
	reverse imaged it--

FIEDLER points to another screen displaying a digitally-
enhanced image of the shadowed object and its
approximate shape.

		FIEDLER (CONT'D)
	Something's definitely been added.
	It's not a video cassette, the
	shadow's wrong.

REYNOLDS steps forward. His eyes are red. It's been a
long night.

		REYNOLDS
	What's your opinion?

		FIEDLER
	It's hard to say for certain, these
	things are--

		REYNOLDS
	I'm not asking you to say for certain.
	This is what you're trained to do,
	right?

		FIEDLER
	Yes sir.

		REYNOLDS
	Then what's your goddam opinion?

		FIEDLER
		(beat)
	Zavitz had digital compression
	equipment. He could've downloaded
	into something. A disk, a chip,
	anything small enough to put in his
	pocket and run with. Whatever he
	put it in, he dropped it in that bag.

		REYNOLDS
		(to HICKS)
	Get it.

REYNOLDS heads for the door.

		HICKS
	We'd have to--

		REYNOLDS
	Get it.

INT. RANGE ROVER - NIGHT

DEAN drives with STACY as ERIC sleeps in the back seat.
Various hats and souvenirs tell us that they've just
come from a Redskins game.

They drive in silence for a moment before...

		STACY
	Bobby?

		DEAN
	Yeah.

		STACY
	How'd you get the information on
	DePinto?

		DEAN
	What do you mean?

		STACY
	Who did you work with to get the--

		DEAN
	A guy named Brill. Same guy as always.

		STACY
	Yeah, but you said you've never met
	him. How did you--

		DEAN
	Honey, I don't like to talk about
	this stuff in front of Eric.

		STACY
	Have you been working with Rachel?

		DEAN
	No.

		STACY
		(beat)
	Sorry.

		DEAN
	It's okay.

The RANGE ROVER pulls into the driveway.

INT. DEAN'S HOME/ENTRY FOYER - NIGHT

The DEAN's enter the doorway. ERIC and STACY are first.
They stop, faces shocked. DEAN hasn't noticed yet. His
hand automatically goes to the alarm key pad.

CLOSE ON THE PAD - The LED reads: ARMED. DEAN punches
the code -

		STACY
	Oh my God -

DEAN turns.

The house is ransacked. The ALARM suddenly BLARES,
adding mayhem.

CLOSE-UP ON THE CEILING VENT - The CAMERA PUSHES IN
TIGHT revealing a concealed, fiber-optic video lens the
size of a pin-head.

EXT. DEAN'S STREET - CONTINUOUS

Several cars and a florist van are parked on the quiet
street.

INT. FLORIST VAN - CONTINUOUS

The van is really an electronic surveillance post
jammed with the latest equipment. A TECHIE with
headphones eyes a monitor.

CLOSE ON THE MONITOR showing the PIN HOLE SURVEILLANCE
VIEW of STACY walking through a disheveled room in a
state of shock while DEAN pulls out his cellular phone
and dials.

		DEAN
		(through the TECHIE's headphones)
	This is Robert Dean at 3325 Sutton
	Place. I want to report a break-in.

INT. RACQUETBALL COURT - MORNING

A black ball slams against a wall. PULL BACK to DEAN,
who's angry, frustrated and drenched in sweat. He's
embroiled in a hard, fast game with his friend, JERRY.

		DEAN
	They took the espresso machine. The
	espresso machine, Jerry! Which
	makes sense, you know, because the
	crooks probably wanted to make
	themselves a latte before fencing
	the stereo.

		JERRY
	Did they take your clothes?

		DEAN
	No.

		JERRY
	You've got a bunch of Armani suits,
	they didn't take 'em?

		DEAN
	No.

		JERRY
	Usually they take clothes.

		DEAN
	Why don't you give 'em a call.

		JERRY
	What about jewelry?

		DEAN
	They didn't take the jewelry. They
	took the computers. They took the
	big-screen TV, they took my blender.

		JERRY
	The blender?

		DEAN
	I love my blender.

		JERRY
	They didn't take the silverware?

		DEAN
	No, but they took my blender.

		JERRY
	Sounds like they didn't want
	anything that wasn't electric?

		DEAN
	What?

		JERRY
	They only took electrical appliances.

		DEAN
	Serve the ball.

INT. DEAN'S OFFICE BUILDING/LOBBY - MORNING

A busy lobby for a major complex. DEAN, freshly
showered, steps from a door marked: TO PARKING LEVELS.

		MALE VOICE (O.S.)
	Robert Dean?

DEAN turns to see MORELOS, 40's, an obsessive man with
a terminal smile.

		DEAN
		(beat)
	Yes?

		MORELOS
	I didn't want to bother you during
	your racquetball game.

		DEAN
		(beat)
	Thanks.
		(beat)
	Who are you?

MORELOS shows him his badge.

		MORELOS
	I'm sorry. Detective Morelos.

		DEAN
	Hey, did you guys find my stuff?

		MORELOS
	Your stuff?

		DEAN
	The robbery.

		MORELOS
	No, sir, I'm not involved with that.
	I'm doing a quick follow-up on a
	bus accident took place a few
	nights ago. Your name keeps coming up.

		DEAN
	Oh...yeah, I didn't see the accident.

		MORELOS
	Witnesses said you were there, but
	I notice you didn't file a report.

		DEAN
	A report?

		MORELOS
	A police report.

		DEAN
	That's 'cause I wasn't there.

		MORELOS
	You weren't at Harrison's Department
	Store the night before--

		DEAN
	I was in the store, the accident
	was outside. It was a bus.

		MORELOS
	Someone said you spoke to Mr.
	Zavitz before he died. I thought
	you might know something.

		DEAN
	About what?

		MORELOS
	About the accident.

		DEAN
	I'm no expert, but I'm assuming
	that the impact of a moving bus
	against his body caused--

		MORELOS
	Mr. Zavitz was in trouble.

		DEAN
	What kind of trouble.

		MORELOS
	You tell me.

		DEAN
	I can't.

		MORELOS
	Are you invoking attorney/client
	privilege.

		DEAN
	I'm not his attorney.

		MORELOS
	Than why can't you tell me.

		DEAN
	Because I don't know.

		MORELOS
	I'm just trying to determine if Mr.
	Zavitz was involved in something
	more than a simple bus accident.

		DEAN
	Than why don't you talk to the bus
	driver?

		MORELOS
	Why so edgy, Mr. Dean?

		DEAN
	Somebody took my blender.

		MORELOS
	We'd appreciate your cooperation.

		DEAN
	I'm happy to help you all I can.
	But I didn't see the accident and I
	barely knew Daniel Zavitz. I've
	gotta go to work.

DEAN starts walking--MORELOS follows him.

		MORELOS
	Did he give you anything?

		DEAN
	No.

		MORELOS
	Anything at all?

		DEAN
	No, sir.

		MORELOS
	Was he with anyone?

		DEAN
	Not that I could see.

		MORELOS
	Nobody gave you anything?

		DEAN
	No.

		MORELOS
	Why'd you go to Harrison's?

		DEAN
	To buy lingerie.

		MORELOS
	For your wife?

		DEAN
	Yes, for my wife, what the hell
	kinds of questions are these.

		MORELOS
	I thought maybe it might be for
	Rachel Banks.

DEAN stops short and turns to MORELOS. He stares.

		DEAN
	I don't know what's goin' on with
	Zavitz, but that was way, way outa
	line.
		(beat)
	You understand?

		MORELOS
	Yes sir.

DEAN steps into the elevator.

		MORELOS
		(into concealed sleeve-mic)
	403 to 401. He's coming up.

INT. LAW FIRM/CORRIDOR - DAY

DEAN walks down the hall toward his office. He stops by
PEERS as he enters his office.

		PEERS
	'Morning, Mr. Dean.

		DEAN
	Hey. Would you get me what I need
	for Zwernickii and the Bellmoth
	motions.

		PEERS
	Sure.

		DEAN
	And do me a favor. Find out what
	you can about Daniel Zavitz. We did
	some work for him a few years back
	and there should be a file.

DEAN enters his office and turns his computer on. It
BEEPS, BOOTS and loads.

INT. BUILDING CORRIDOR - CONTINUOUS

LEVIN approaches the men's room. A MAINTENANCE MAN
cleans up broken glass and water by the door. A sign
reads: CLOSED FOR MAINTENANCE. Levin turns and leaves.

		MAINTENANCE MAN
		(into concealed sleeve mic)
	402 to 401. Doorstep's clear.

INT. MEN'S ROOM - CONTINUOUS

Two more MAINTENANCE MEN kneel in a stall adjusting a
portable monitor and oscillator. They aim a directional
antenna using slow, sweeping motions.

CLOSE ON THE MONITOR displaying the intercepted signal.
It's Dean's computer screen with text being typed in.
The words are hard to read due to horizontal drift.
After adjusting the antenna, the signal smooths.

We PUSH CLOSER. The signal shows the current display of
Dean's computer screen. We see Dean's O.S. command pull
up his E-Mail. A prompt asks for a password.

XXXXXXX appears.

A switch is flipped. XXXXXXX becomes PUCCINI. Dean's
"secure" file opens. Entries appear.

		MAN #1
	402, this is 401. Password's "Puccini."

EXT. COURTHOUSE - DAY

Establishing. A large, busy place. LAWYERS and AIDES
bustle in and out of this structure.

INT. COURTROOM - DAY

A busy morning as ATTORNEYS wait their turn to present
motions before the JUDGE.

DEAN is seated next to LEVIN, making notes.

		LEVIN
		(whispering)
	Dick Burns got a phone call this
	morning from someone wanting
	information on you.

		DEAN
	The police?

		LEVIN
	No. He said they were doing a
	credit check. Are you refinancing a
	loan?

		DEAN
	You remember Daniel Zavitz?

		LEVIN
	Yeah.

		DEAN
	He got hit by a bus.

		LEVIN
	What does that have to do with you?

		DEAN
	I honestly don't know.

ANOTHER ATTORNEY sits several rows back, watching the
proceedings, briefcase in his lap.

CLOSE-UP on the ATTORNEY's EAR with a mini-receiver.
From it drift snippets of the DEAN/LEVIN conversation.

		LEVIN (O.S.)
	Was Zavitz in trouble?

		DEAN (O.S.)
	I don't know.

A pulled back leather flap on the ATTORNEY's briefcase
reveals the tip of a concealed microphone.

		LEVIN (O.S.)
	You think there was a connection to--

		DEAN (O.S.)
	Jesus! I just told you. I don't know.

EXT. COURTHOUSE GARAGE - DAY

DEAN waits for the garage attendant to bring down his car.

		PRATT (O.S.)
	Mr. Dean?

DEAN turns. TWO MEN, PRATT and BINGHAM approach him.

		DEAN
	Yeah?

		PRATT
		(pulling out a card)
	We'd like to ask you some questions
	about Daniel Zavitz.

		DEAN
	Who are you people?

		PRATT
		(handing DEAN the card)
	I'm an investigator with Pro-Tech
	Security.

		DEAN
	I went through this with an
	investigator this morning. If I
	could--

		PRATT
	Mr. Zavitz was involved in an
	extortion scheme. We believe he
	passed you sensitive materials,
	possibly with your knowledge, and
	we need to--

		DEAN
	He didn't.

		PRATT
	We believe he did.

		DEAN
	You're wrong.

		PRATT
	We have good reason to believe that
	he passed you--

		DEAN
	If he passed me materials, I'd have
	them. I don't.

		PRATT
	We'd like to recover any materials
	Mr. Zavitz may have given you--

		DEAN
	He didn't give me--

		PRATT
	--otherwise we may have to--

		DEAN
	Otherwise you may have to what?

		PRATT
	We'd rather not--

		DEAN
	Fuck you. You may have to what?

		BINGHAM
		(beat)
	We may have to explore additional
	avenues.

INT. TECH ROOM - NIGHT

We HEAR a recording of the conversation between DEAN,
PRATT and BINGHAM while we're CLOSE on an INK NEEDLE
measuring Dean's voice stress levels.

		DEAN (V.O.)
	He didn't give me--

		PRATT (V.O.)
	--otherwise we may have to--

		DEAN (V.O.)
	Otherwise you may have to what?

		PRATT (V.O.)
	We'd rather not--

		DEAN (V.O.)
	Fuck you. You may have to--

HICKS turns off the recorder. Standing with him is
REYNOLDS, the Dean file and voice stress graph laid out
before him.

		HICKS
	He's arrogant and threatening.
	Voice stress points suggest he's
	worrying.

		REYNOLDS
	Hiding something?

		HICKS
	It was in his bag. Now it's not.

		REYNOLDS
	Destroy his credibility before he
	goes public. Neutralize him. I
	don't want anyone listening to a
	word he has to say. Tell me about
	Rachel Banks.

EXT. EXMOOR COUNTRY CLUB - EVENING

Establishing. A massive clubhouse surrounded by
expensive cars and tended grounds. We HEAR strains of
Gershwin's "They Can't Take that Away from Me" from inside.

INT. COCKTAIL LOUNGE - CONTINUOUS

GUESTS mill about. DEAN and STACY are standing by the
reception table where name tags and seating assignments
are laid out. DEAN picks up a card that reads: MR. AND
MRS. ROBERT DEAN - TABLE 122.

JERRY steps over and puts his hand on DEAN's shoulder--

		JERRY
	Can I talk to you a second?

		DEAN
	Table 122?

		JERRY
	That's what I want to talk to you
	about?

		DEAN
	I wrote a check for a thousand
	dollars. You guys didn't have a
	table that was in the kitchen?

JERRY gently pulls DEAN to a quiet corner...

		JERRY
	The Congressman's very happy to
	have your support, but he's heard
	that there's an investigation.

		DEAN
	An investigation? It was a bus
	accident.

		JERRY
	He's heard that it's escalated.

		DEAN
	Into what?

		JERRY
	Your Bellmoth case. The FBI thinks
	there might be mob ties.

		DEAN
	I'm a labor lawyer. There are
	always mob ties.

		JERRY
	Just be cool.

INT. DINING ROOM - NIGHT

CLOSE ON and OLD MATRON carefully chewing her food near
a table card declaring: 122. The gala swings everywhere
but here. DEAN and STACY are the only other diners at
the table.

		STACY
	I don't understand why Jerry
	couldn't clear this up.

		DEAN
	Well, you know--

		STACY
	He's got his priorities?

		DEAN
	There's just, clearly, some
	administrative snafu. I'm sure this
	is the worst of it.

EXT. DEAN'S OFFICE BUILDING - DAY

Establishing. A glass and steel high-rise reaching upward.

		MARTHA (V.O.)
	Mr. Dean?

INT. DEAN'S OFFICE - CONTINUOUS

DEAN sits behind his desk as his secretary MARTHA enters.

		DEAN
	Yeah.

		MARTHA
	It's Rachel Banks.

DEAN picks up the phone--

INTERCUT WITH:

INT. RACHEL'S CONDO - CONTINUOUS

RACHEL cradles a portable phone to her ear.

		RACHEL
		(into phone)
	I got a call from my firm this
	morning saying don't come in.

		DEAN
		(into phone)
	Why?

		RACHEL
	There are reporters wanting to know
	about my relationship with you and
	how long I've worked for the mob.
	The mob, Bobby!

		DEAN
	All right, look--

Before DEAN can respond, there's a knock at the door.

PEERS sticks his head in--

		PEERS
	Blake and Silverberg want you in
	the conference room.

		DEAN
		(softly)
	Shit.

INT. CONFERENCE ROOM - DAY

DEAN sits in the conference room by himself. He waits.

After a moment, SILVERBERG and BLAKE stride in.

		DEAN
	Listen--

		SILVERBERG
	I got a call this morning from a
	source I trust. The Post is running
	a lead this afternoon about your
	involvement in the Bellmoth
	investigation.

		DEAN
	I don't under--

		BLAKE
	We've also been informed that the
	Grand Jury is going to call for an
	investigation into your affairs.

		DEAN
	Why?

		BLAKE
	They want to hold you in Contempt
	for ethics violations.

		SILVERBERG
	They claim you helped create a
	shell company for Sam Vollotti in
	Zurich and that through your
	continuing relationship, the
	Gambino family's been able to exert
	influence and provide false
	witnesses to discredit our case.

		DEAN
	Oh, well, that's true.

		BLAKE
	It is?

		DEAN
	Except for the part about my
	setting up a company in Zurich and
	knowing anyone named Sam Vollotti
	and having any relationship
	whatsoever with the Gambino family.

		SILVERBERG
	Robert--

		DEAN
	Gimme a week and four guys from
	litigation and I'll have the Post
	pleading with us not to sue for libel.

		BLAKE
	Tell us about Rachel Banks.

		DEAN
		(stunned)
	Rachel Banks?

		SILVERBERG
	The attorney?

		BLAKE
	Have you two been having an affair?

DEAN is speechless...

		DEAN
	What kind of a question is that?

		BLAKE
	A direct one.

		DEAN
	I have a professional relationship
	with Rachel Banks. She's the go-
	between for a private investigator
	I use.

		SILVERBERG
	What's his name?

		DEAN
	Brill.

		BLAKE
	Why don't you just call Brill directly.

		DEAN
	I don't know who he is.

		BLAKE
	I'm told you had an affair with
	Rachel Banks four years ago.

		DEAN
	Told by whom?

		BLAKE
	Considering the enormous exposure
	to which you've subjected this firm,
	I'd think you'd do best to simply
	answer my questions.

		DEAN
	Really?

		BLAKE
	Yes.

		DEAN
	Well considering what a colossal
	douche bag you are, David, maybe
	I'd do best to simply kick your ass
	all over the capitol.

		SILVERBERG
	Gentlemen--

		DEAN
	This is bullshit. Someone's mixing
	up a bunch of half-truths to ruin
	me and to ruin my case.

		SILVERBERG
	Who would do that?

		DEAN
	Maybe Bellmoth. Maybe the unions. I
	don't know.

		SILVERBERG
	Well until we find, you're gonna
	have to take a leave of absence.

		DEAN
	You're firing me.

		SILVERBERG
	A leave of absence. Until we've
	sorted this all out.

		DEAN
	Put David on it. He seems anxious
	to clear my name.

		SILVERBERG
	Bobby--

		DEAN
	Fuck off.

INT. DEAN'S HOUSE/FOYER - EVENING

DEAN enters.

		DEAN
		(calling)
	Stacy!

JENNY, early 30's, heads him off--

		JENNY
	Robert--

		DEAN
	Where's Stacy?

		JENNY
	She doesn't want to talk to you.

		DEAN
		(beat)
	What are you talking--

		JENNY
	She can't talk to you right now.

		DEAN
		(beat)
	Why?

		JENNY
	Because she's reading the newspaper,
	you asshole.

DEAN pushes past her and heads to the back patio--

EXT. BACK PATIO - CONTINUOUS

STACY stares blankly, eyes red. A copy of The Post is
beside her. A picture of DEAN and RACHEL, arm in arm,
accompanies a headline.

DEAN walks in--

		DEAN
	Stacy?

		STACY
	How could you let me find out like
	this?

		DEAN
	Stacy, I found out like this. This
	is the first I'm hearing of--

		STACY
	Robert--

		DEAN
	It's not true.

		STACY
		(reading)
	"Sources revealed an FBI
	investigation into a possible money
	laundering scheme that may have
	sent millions of dollars--

		DEAN
	I've seen it.

		STACY
		(reading)
	"At the center of the investigation
	are well-known Washington-area
	attorneys Robert Dean and Rachel
	Banks."

		DEAN
	Yeah...look--

STACY whips the paper at him--

		STACY
	You swore!

		DEAN
	I have lunch with Rachel once a
	month. She's my connection to an
	investigator.

		STACY
	I told you I didn't want you seeing
	her.

		DEAN
	I know.

		STACY
	You had an affair with this woman,
	Robert, we went to a fucking
	counselor for a year.

		DEAN
	I see her for business.

		STACY
	You told me you weren't seeing her
	at all.

		DEAN
	I didn't want you to be upset. I
	shouldn't have lied. Stacy, there's
	nothing between me and Rachel Banks.

STACY grabs another paper and shoves it across the
table. DEAN picks it up.

DEAN'S POV: A black and white surveillance photo of
DEAN and RACHEL on a hotel balcony.

		STACY (O.S.)
	The date stamp on the picture is
	last month. Is that where you and
	Rachel conduct business.

		DEAN
		(shaking his head)
	It's not real...
		(to STACY)
	That's not me.

		STACY
	Oh, please--

		DEAN
	It's not a real picture, Stacy,
	it's been doctored-up.

		STACY
	I think you should leave now, Robert.

		DEAN
	Stacy--

		STACY
	Leave this house.

EXT. HYATT HOTEL - NIGHT

Establishing. Downtown Washington, D.C.

INT. REGISTRATION DESK - CONTINUOUS 

A busy night. DEAN stands at the registration desk
facing a DESK CLERK.

		DESK CLERK
		(returning card)
	I'm sorry, sir, this card's been
	declined.

		DEAN
	It's a brand new card.

		DESK CLERK
	Maybe it's not connected yet.

		DEAN
		(handing him another)
	Here, you can use this.

The CLERK runs it through. Same result.

		DESK CLERK
	I'm sorry.

He returns the card, embarrassed for Dean. DEAN turns
to leave...

...and stops dead. He stares at the empty floor by a
pillar.

		DEAN
	My suitcase--

		DESK CLERK
	Sir?

		DEAN
	My suitcase is gone.

DEAN walks quickly around the area, looking at
everything and everyone.

		DESK CLERK
	I'm sure we can locate it for you, sir.

		DEAN
	Don't count on it.

EXT. BANK MACHINE - NIGHT

DEAN stands at the ATM, waiting for cash. There's a
short line of PEOPLE behind him. His bank card spits
out. The monitor reads:

		Temporarily Unable to Process
		this Transaction

		DEAN
		(pounding the machine)
	God Dammit!

The waiting PEOPLE back away...

EXT. CHEAP MOTEL - NIGHT

A weathered sign reads:

		All Rooms $39.95

An O.S. TV DRONES the latest AT&T COMMERCIAL--

		TV ANNOUNCER
		(soft and seductive)
	Have you ever tucked your kid in
	from a phone booth? You will--

INT. MOTEL ROOM - CONTINUOUS

CLOSE ON AN OLD COLOR TV. The COMMERCIAL ENDS. A
NEWSCASTER returns to deliver the late-night news.

		NEWSCASTER
		(on TV)
	In Richmond today, Senate Majority
	Leader Sam Albert paid a visit to
	promote the ten-billion dollar
	Anti-Terror Bill.

The newscast cuts to SAM ALBERT, late 60's, standing on
State Capitol Building steps delivering a speech to
community leaders.

		SENATOR ALBERT
		(on TV)
	America is under assault, and this
	time it's from within. The gangs,
	the terrorists, the drug lords, the
	cults...

PULLING AWAY from the TV, we explore the room. Dimly
lit and cluttered with tired furniture.

		SENATOR ALBERT (CONT'D)
		(on TV)
	It's a war like any other war. A
	war with victims and a war that
	requires courage and strength.

Outside the window, a BUZZING NEON SIGN flickers red
and blue. We finally end on DEAN, sitting on a sagging
bed, rubbing his eyes...the newspaper with the
doctored-up photo is sitting next to him.

EXT. BUILDING - DAY

Establishing. Italian area of Baltimore. A 40's era
box-building. A sign reads:

		Italian/American Legion - Members Only

INT. ITALIAN/AMERICAN LEGION - CONTINUOUS

Thread-bare chairs and a couch. SAL and FRANKIE, both
meaty guys in shiny shirts, sit facing DEAN, who stands
before them.

		SAL
	I'm sorry. I'm not sure I understand.
	You wanna fuckin' what?

		DEAN
	I'd like to speak to someone about
	what's happening to me.

		FRANKIE
		(to SAL)
	What'd this guy say his name was?

		SAL
	This is Bobby Dean, the Jew lawyer
	who squeezed DePinto.

		DEAN
	Actually, that's not true.

		SAL
	You didn't squeeze DePinto?

		DEAN
	No, I meant I'm Presbyterian.

		SAL
	Oh.

		DEAN
	My wife's Jewish. But that probably
	doesn't matter right now.

		FRANKIE
	What is it you want?

		DEAN
	Someone's trying to destroy my life,
	and I'd like to find out who.

		SAL
	And then what?

		DEAN
	I'll see if I can, you know, work
	things out.

		FRANKIE
	Well we'd sure like to help you.

		DEAN
	You would?

		FRANKIE
	Yes. But we can't.

		DEAN
	Why not?

		FRANKIE
	Because we, and our associates,
	have paid out hundreds of thousands
	of dollars to shyster lawyers like
	you, because of shyster lawyers
	like you, and we'd just as soon sit
	back and sip a beer while you get
	ass-banged by as many people as
	possible.

EXT. STATELY OLD BUILDING - DAY

Establishing. A sign reads:

	The Audobon Society - National Headuarters

		WOMAN'S VOICE (V.O.)
	He shot wildlife footage--

INT. AUDOBON HEADQUARTERS/EDITING BAY - CONTINUOUS

MEG BURTON sits near an editing machine as two EDITORS
review endless amounts of bird footage. DEAN sits next
to her.

		DEAN
	I know, but--

		MEG
	Wildlife footage, for God's sake. I
	don't see how he could've slipped
	you something that the FBI would be
	interested in.

		DEAN
	That's my point.

		MEG
	What's your point.

		DEAN
	Well, I need to find out as much
	about Daniel as possible.

		MEG
	Why?

		DEAN
	Because my life is being ruined.

		MEG
	Daniel's life is already ruined.
	Maybe if you guys stopped thinking
	about yourselves for a change and--

EXT. THE GANG-PLANK BAR - DAY

Establishing. The Baltimore water front. A crusty bar
overlooking the bay.

INT. BAR - CONTINUOUS

Sunlight slashes blinds revealing a place that is wrong
during the day. JIMMY, a beefy bartender, takes stock
of the liquor while RACHEL sits in a dark booth.

		DEAN (O.S.)
	Rachel?

RACHEL looks up...

		RACHEL
	Good. You're just what I need right
	now.

		DEAN
	You got a minute?

		RACHEL
		(getting up)
	It's really not a good idea for me
	to be seen with you.

		DEAN
	Who's doing this?

		RACHEL
	I gotta go.

		DEAN
		(blocking the door)
	Will you hang on just a second.

		JERRY
	Rachel? There a problem?

She looks at DEAN for a moment...

		RACHEL
	No. No problem.
		(to DEAN)
	Outside.

EXT. HARBOR CENTER - DAY

CLOSE ON a SURVEILLANCE CAMERA on a pole, sweeping,
making automatic lens corrections.

		RACHEL (O.S.)
	There's a lot of people asking
	questions about you and me.

We drift down to the harbor walkway, a greenbelt with
quaint hotels and bars on one side, Chesapeake Bay on
the other. DEAN and RACHEL are strolling the walk.

		DEAN
	I know.

		RACHEL
	The IRS contacted me this morning.
	They say my lifestyle and receipts
	exceed my income.

		DEAN
	You being audited?

		RACHEL
	For the last four years.

		DEAN
	My firm'll represent you. Free of
	charge.

		RACHEL
	You don't work there anymore, Bobby.

		DEAN
	That's temporary.

		RACHEL
	Bullshit.

		DEAN
	Rachel--

		RACHEL
	We're screwed.

		DEAN
	I'm gonna fix it.

		RACHEL
	How?

		DEAN
	Tell me about Brill.

INT. A ROOM - CONTINUOUS

A TECHNICIAN eyes a recorder spin as a monitor shows a
live feed from the park.

		RACHEL (O.S.)
		(through headphones)
	I can't.

		DEAN
		(through headphones)
	You have to.

		RACHEL
		(through headphones)
	I've never met him?

		DEAN
		(through headphones)
	Goddammit, Rachel, you assured me--

EXT. THE PARK - CONTINUOUS

DEAN and RACHEL on their stroll--

		RACHEL
	Fuck you. When you needed
	information, I got it. You didn't
	care how.

		DEAN
	I did care how.

		RACHEL
	This conversation's over.

		DEAN
	What're you gonna do, Rachel? You
	gonna sit in a bar in Baltimore?
	You want your job back? You want a
	life?

		RACHEL
	I don't have a life, Bobby. I'm in
	love with a married man.

		DEAN
	I'm sorry about that.

		RACHEL
	What makes you think it's you?

		DEAN
	It's not me?

		RACHEL
	You're a moron, you know that?

		DEAN
	Yeah.

DEAN smiles...and after a moment, so does RACHEL.

		RACHEL
	When I need to reach Brill, I chalk
	the mailbox on 14th and Main.

EXT. CITY STREET - DAY

RACHEL is walking to the mailbox. She casually slashes
the box with chalk and drops a letter inside.

		RACHEL (V.O.)
	When he sees the mark, he knows
	there's a drop. The location's
	always the same.

EXT. BALTIMORE PORT - DAY

Establishing. Wharves, ships, seagulls. A water-bus
chugs dockside as PASSENGERS board for the trip across
the inlet. DEAN stands in a ticket line with the other
PASSENGERS.

		RACHEL (V.O.)
	The number twelve ferry to Glen
	Burnie. Tuesdays or Fridays.

INT. FERRY - DAY

DEAN takes a seat. Across the deck is Seat 74. RACHEL
takes the seat and casually slides an envelope behind
it, her actions obscured by a bag she carries. The
ferry BLOWS its departure horn.

		RACHEL (V.O.)
	The drop's behind Seat 74. I leave
	something, he picks it up later.

The ferry churns water. RACHEL moves to a wind
protected seat, leaving Seat 74 empty. DEAN keeps watch
on the seat as he scans the paper.

		DEAN (V.O.)
	Any idea what he looks like?

		RACHEL (V.O.)
	My guess is male, somewhere in his
	40's or 50's.

A MONTAGE of different people occupying Seat 74.

A middle-aged DRUNK passed out in the seat. A TEEN-AGED
boy with glasses chats with friends.

		RACHEL (V.O.)
	Race, height, weight, you're on
	your own.

An OLD LADY reads a book. She sees DEAN eyeing her and
smiles nervously. DEAN returns to his paper.

		RACHEL (V.O.)
	Now I don't know how he's gonna
	feel about someone tracking him
	down. He's reclusive. I'm sure he
	has his reasons.

DEAN's alone now. The ferry docks for the night. The
last passengers, TWO NUNS, disembark. DEAN rises to go.
Brill's a no-show.

INT. FERRY TERMINAL - NIGHT

DEAN walks down the ramp. It's dark in the empty
terminal. Not the best place at this hour. Up ahead,
TWO MEN stand in the darkness, then kissing. Down
another hall, SOUNDS OF NEARING FOOTSTEPS. DEAN detours
into--

INT. MEN'S ROOM - CONTINUOUS

Empty. DEAN stands at a sink, water running. He glances
at the door. He splashes water on his face. Suddenly--

--DEAN's slammed forward, a silenced pistol is shoved
into his ear, pinning his face to the mirror.

		DEAN
	Jesus! What?! You want money?!

		MAN
	Shut the fuck up.

Hands frisk DEAN. Up and down the legs, behind the back
and chest. A wallet is removed, ID's looked at - then
returned. DEAN turns to see--

A MAN, early 50's. He sweeps a signal frequency locator
over DEAN's body. The needle reacts at DEAN's foot.

		MAN
		(gesturing)
	Your shoe.

		DEAN
	My shoe?

		MAN
	Gimme the shoe.

DEAN complies with the strange request as the MAN flips
out a knife.

		DEAN
	Brill?

		"BRILL"
	Brill's dead. He died of small pox
	when he was two and he was buried
	in a Kansas field.
		(prying away DEAN's heel)
	My name doesn't matter.

CLOSE ON DEAN's HEEL - a hollow compartment reveals a
miniature tracking device. The MAN removes it, then
returns the shoe.

		"BRILL" (CONT'D)
	A tracker. Thousand yard range.
	They're close.

The MAN reaches in a trash can, removes a potato-chip
bag, wraps it around the tracker and flushes it down
the toilet.

		"BRILL" (CONT'D)
	C'mon.

"BRILL" goes through the window. DEAN eyes the window,
not sure. He eyes the door. Same feeling.

EXT. LOADING DECK - MOMENT LATER

DEAN crawls through the window to a loading dock.
"BRILL" motions him to follow as he moves off into the
shadows.

The sounds of the window OPENING behind them, followed
by FOOTSTEPS. "BRILL" shoves Dean behind a dumpster and
removes his gun as two men run by. The STEPS FADE.
"BRILL" looks. They're gone.

EXT. FERRY TERMINAL - NIGHT

Establishing. A closed farmer's market by the terminal.
Several cars are parked. One's a cab. "BRILL" opens the
driver's door. DEAN grabs the front passenger door.

		"BRILL"
	No. In back like you're a customer.

INT. CAB - NIGHT

"BRILL" sits in the driver's seat, eyes flickering to
all views, as DEAN climbs in the back. "BRILL" flips on
the meter and guns into traffic.

		"BRILL"
	What happened?

		DEAN
	It started with the information you
	gave me on DePinto. After we talked,
	he agreed to resign. Next, a phony
	detective asked me about Daniel
	Zavitz. Then an investigator
	questioned me about an extortion
	scheme they claimed Zavitz was
	behind. The FBI started looking
	into mob connections. A doctored
	picture in the paper. Overnight,
	I'm ruined. Wife. job, bank
	accounts, everything gone.

"BRILL" eyes the mirror. A BLACK CHEVY appears several
car lengths behind.

		"BRILL"
	DePinto's dead.

		DEAN
	Oh Jesus.

		"BRILL"
	They found him yesterday folded
	neatly in a car trunk. What about
	Zavitz?

"BRILL" starts to weave in and out of traffic. He looks
in the mirror - the Chevy's also weaving several cars
behind.

		DEAN
	I don't know anything about Zavitz.

		"BRILL"
	You said he was behind an extortion
	scheme.

		DEAN
	They said he was behind an
	extortion scheme.

"BRILL" whips the cab around a corner, accelerating.

		"BRILL"
	And you were the last one to talk
	to him.

		DEAN
	Yes.

		"BRILL"
	What'd he say to you?

		DEAN
	Nothing.

		"BRILL"
	What'd he give to you?

		DEAN
	Nothing.

		"BRILL"
	Don't bullshit me, I can save your
	life.

		DEAN
	I'm telling you, I--

The ride from hell gets worse as "BRILL" screeches
another turn. The car ahead stops and "BRILL" screeches
past on two wheels.

		DEAN (CONT'D)
	I just gave him my card.

		"BRILL"
	He didn't give you an address? He
	didn't give you a phone number?

		DEAN
	Nothing. Two nights later I was
	robbed. I'm pretty sure they were pros.

"BRILL" takes an impossible left into another alley.
The Chevy follows. "BRILL"'s good. The guy in the
Chevy's better.

		DEAN (CONT'D)
	Um...who's that?

		"BRILL"
	Don't know. Did you check everywhere?
	Maybe it was hidden in something.
	Maybe there was someone else--

		DEAN
	Someone else?

		"BRILL"
	Maybe you bumped into someone who
	took it and you didn't even know.

The cab is rear-ended hard by the Chevy. Their necks
snap back from the force.

		"BRILL" (CONT'D)
	Shit!

WHAM! They're hit again. "BRILL" pulls out a communicator.

		"BRILL" (CONT'D)
	209 to anyone! I need some help here!

		DEAN
	Who are you calling?!

WHACK! "BRILL" back-hands DEAN with his fist, knocking
him silly as WHAM!--the cab's rear-ended again.

		"BRILL"
		(trying again)
	This is 209! Does anyone copy?!

Then "BRILL" sees that the alley empties into a busy
street, then a bakery shop.

He slams the brakes. Tires screech smoke but it's no
use. The powerful Chevy pushes the cab, bumper to
bumper, toward the street. "BRILL" grips the wheel.
It's all he can do as the cab rockets into cross
traffic and--

BLAM! They're broad-sided by a delivery truck. The cab
is shoved sideways along the street and into a fire-
hydrant, finally stopping under jetting water from the
broken main.

DEAN slowly opens his eyes. Water pours in everywhere.
"BRILL" is sticking halfway through a window, not
moving. Seeing "BRILL"'s pistol, DEAN grabs it and
crawls from the wreckage.

EXT. STREET - NIGHT

DEAN climbs from the wreck as BYSTANDERS approach.

		WOMAN
	Look out! He's got a gun!

They back away as DEAN gets to his feet and looks
around. Off to the side he sees the Chevy, waiting like
a coiled snake.

DEAN limps into the crowd. He rounds the corner to
ANOTHER STREET and now he's running with all he's got left.

INT. DEAN'S HOUSE/STUDY - NIGHT

STACY is at the desk looking at the latest edition of
the paper, which now has a photograph of DEAN and
RACHEL walking in the park from the day before.

The phone rings and STACY reaches for it...

		STACY
		(into phone)
	Hello?

INTERCUT WITH:

INT. HOTEL LOBBY - CONTINUOUS

DEAN stands at a pay phone--

		DEAN
		(into phone)
	Stacy, don't hang up.

		STACY
	Do you know what I'm looking at Robert?

		DEAN
	Stacy--

		STACY
	I'm looking at a picture of you and
	Rachel taken yesterday.

		DEAN
	I know, but listen--

		STACY
	Was that doctored-up, too?

		DEAN
	No, I was with her yesterday. I
	want you to take Eric and go to our
	parents house. I want you to do it
	right now.

		STACY
	I went to the grocery store. My ATM
	and credit cards didn't work. I
	couldn't buy food.

		DEAN
	I know.

		STACY
	I went to the bank to see why. They
	said you emptied our accounts--

		DEAN
	It wasn't me.

		STACY
	This is science-fiction Robert! The
	manager showed me the transfer
	notice with your signature on it.

		DEAN
	Stacy, somebody's trying to kill me.
	Now goddamit--

		STACY
	My father's put me in touch with an
	attorney. He'll be--

A hand suddenly clicks down the phone hook. DEAN turns
to see a MAN, late 50's, gruff and alert. It's the guy
driving the Chevy.

		MAN
	Put the phone down. Do as I say.

DEAN does nothing, temporarily frozen. A pistol jabs
him hard.

		DEAN
	Alright, alright--

DEAN replaces the phone. The man removes DEAN's gun.
Nearby, two PEOPLE chat at a restaurant hostess desk,
unaware.

		MAN
	Move to the elevators.

DEAN does but is suddenly redirected through a roof-
access door.

INT. VAN - NIGHT

A TECHNICIAN sits in a van jammed with high-tech
surveillance gear. HICKS is next to him, a phone
pressed to his ear.

		HICKS
	We just picked up his call.

INTERCUT WITH:

INT. OFFICE - NIGHT

REYNOLDS, dressed in a tux, presses his cellular to his
ear, while behind him MARSHAL and SHAFFER, also in
tuxedos, have a heated discussion.

		REYNOLDS
		(into phone)
	30 minutes ago you said we had him.
	What in hell's goin' on out there?

		HICKS
		(into phone)
	He had help.

		REYNOLDS
		(into phone)
	Help from whom?
		(he hears the answer)
	Christ.

EXT. HIGH-RISE ROOFTOP - NIGHT

Eight stories up and deserted. The lit dome of the
Capitol building shines like a beacon in the D.C. skyline.

DEAN suddenly slams against a wall--

		DEAN
	Hey!

		MAN
	Forget me, forget what I did for
	you. Don't ever mention my name or
	try to contact me again. Get it?

		DEAN
	I don't know you, I don't know your
	name, I don't know what the hell
	you did for me except hang up on my
	wife and slam me into a wall, but
	I'm getting pretty fuckin' sick of
	this! Get it?!

		MAN
	Seat 74.

		DEAN
		(pause)
	You're Brill.

		BRILL
	You knew the deal. No contact.

		DEAN
	Who was that other guy?

		BRILL
	One of many people who would live a
	word with you.

		DEAN
	Who are they?

		BRILL
	You've heard of the National Security
	Agency?

		DEAN
	What do they have to do with this?

		BRILL
	That's who they are.

		DEAN
	The NSA?

		BRILL
	Yes.

		DEAN
	You're crazy.

		BRILL
		(starting to leave)
	Okay.

		DEAN
	Wait.

		BRILL
	You drive a black BMW, license
	plate SRK1339?

		DEAN
	Yeah.

		BRILL
		(reaching in his pocket)
	I clipped this from your wheel well
	just before they towed your car away.

BRILL pulls out a disk-shaped object the size of a
walk-man.

		DEAN
	What is that?

		BRILL
	It's a SAT-tracker.

		DEAN
	I don't know what that means.

		BRILL
	Like a LowJack, but two generations
	ahead of what the police use. It
	pulses at 230 Giga-Hertz.

		DEAN
	I don't know what that means.

		BRILL
	230 Giga-Hertz. They use that band
	for the Aquacade Spy-SAT uplinks.

		DEAN
	I don't know what that means.

		BRILL
	It means the NSA can read the time
	off your wristwatch.

		DEAN
	Why are they after me?

		BRILL
	If I knew, they'd be after me.
	Which they probably are right now.
	'Bye.

		DEAN
	Wait. What do I do?

		BRILL
	Pal, you're cooked. It's over. What
	you did, who you were...that's done.
	I'd find a quiet job somewhere
	shoveling snow.

A helicopter hovers near the Washington Monument. BRILL
eyes it cautiously.

		DEAN
	Why don't they just identify
	themselves and tell me what they want?

		BRILL
	They're spooks.

		DEAN
	I don't know what that--

		BRILL
	Exposure. They can't have it. They
	wanna learn what you know and then
	deal with it.

		DEAN
	I don't know anything.

		BRILL
	No shit.

		DEAN
	What am I gonna do?! I mean, like,
	for the rest of my life?!

		BRILL
	Hey, if you live another week I'll
	be impressed.

		DEAN
	What if--

		BRILL
	Look, you gave me some work over
	the last year. We'll call it even.

BRILL turns to leave--

		DEAN
		(blocking the exit door)
	What if I find out what they're
	after. You know these people, I don't.

		BRILL
	And you won't. Now move--

		DEAN
	I'll pay you.

		BRILL
		(taking out his pistol)
	They froze your accounts. Get outa
	my way.

DEAN continues blocking the door, maintaining calm even
as BRILL's pistol is pressed firmly to his forehead.

		DEAN
	I've got a hundred-thousand dollars
	in jewelry in a safe-deposit box
	under a third party name.

BRILL looks at the ground. Torn.

		DEAN (CONT'D)
	How many years have you been hiding
	from them? How many years have you
	been running?
		(beat)
	What'd they do to you?

		BRILL
		(pause)
	If you find something, chalk the
	Baltimore Sheraton mailbox and go
	to Temperanceville. It's South of
	Salisbury.
		(giving DEAN his pistol)
	And take this.

And with that, he's gone.

DEAN eyes the gun. He walks to the ledge, looking at
the city.

DEAN'S POV: Several vehicles quietly pull up to the
building. MEN storm out an move inside.

DEAN quickly backs away.

INT. BUILDING CORRIDOR - NIGHT

DEAN races for the stairwell two steps at a time. He
hears the SOUND of a DOOR OPENING somewhere below.

		VOICE (O.S.)
	303 to 301. Floor one secured.
	Moving to two.

DEAN retreats upward, then he hears SOMEONE COMING DOWN.
Trapped. He opens the door on '3' and is about to run
when he sees a security camera directly above.

Grabbing a fire extinguisher, he pulls the pin. Spray
coats the lens. Then he yanks a FIRE ALARM. A HORN BLARES.

DEAN runs for the second stairwell when he sees JONES
stepping out. DEAN looks back at the stairwell he left.
That door's opening as well.

Trapped.

Using the extinguisher, DEAN smashes the glass door to
an office and goes inside. JONES starts to enter when a
shot rips into the wall, convincing him otherwise. He
retreats as the BLARING FIRE ALARM STOPS.

DEAN races through the suite of offices trying locked
door after locked door. Finally, one opens and he
rushes in and tries to lock it behind himself.

No lock.

He sees the MEN and they see him. He slides a desk
against the door, then backs away, pistol ready.

		JONES (O.S.)
		(disturbingly calm)
	Open the door, Mr. Dean. There's
	nowhere to go. We'd just like to talk.

Seeing a phone, DEAN grabs it.

No tone. Just a RECORDING of Nancy Sinatra's song
"These Boots are Made for Walking".

		JONES (O.S.)
	It'd be easier for all of us if you
	just come out. Nothing'll happen.

DEAN heaves a coffee table up on the desk.

		JONES (O.S.)
	It's quite hopeless what you're
	doing, Mr. Dean.

		DEAN
	I swear to God I'll shoot.

		JONES (O.S.)
		(chuckling)
	I think you might be over-reacting
	there, Mr. Dean. We just want to talk.

		DEAN
	Go ahead. I hear you fine.

The door pushes in--

		DEAN (CONT'D)
	I said I'll shoot!

The door keeps pushing.

DEAN FIRES high.

The pushing stops.

Then DEAN hears the distant sound of SIRENS approaching.
DEAN rips off his sweater, takes out a lighter, and
sets the sweater on fire.

He throws it into a garbage can and tosses styrofoam
cups in on top of it.

The pushing starts again, but before DEAN can fire, a
small cylindrical device drops into the room.

A STUN GRENADE.

DEAN ducks as a BLINDING FLASH rocks the room.

The window is blown open. Smoke billows out. DEAN,
temporarily blinded and deaf, struggles to a ledge as
fire engines arrive.

INT. VAN - CONTINUOUS

Fire trucks, police cars and an ambulance arrive
beneath DEAN as HICKS watches from his van.

		HICKS
	I don't fuckin' believe this!
		(into radio-mic)
	301 to all units. Everyone out! Now!
	We'll take him at the hospital.

INT. AMBULANCE - NIGHT

DEAN sits in back with a PARA-MEDIC, covered in soot,
breathing hard through an oxygen mask as the ambulance
WAILS and weaves through traffic. He looks through the
rear window to see--

TWO CARS FOLLOWING, keeping pace. Off to the side, RFK
Stadium is emptying, a Redskins game is over.

DEAN rips off the oxygen mask--

		DEAN
	Tell him to stop the ambulance.

		PARAMEDIC
	Whoa there, fella. Just take it easy.

		DEAN
	Tell him to stop the ambulance.

		PARAMEDIC
	Now you're a little shaken up, but
	we're gonna get you on your feet in--

DEAN whips out his pistol and shoves it in the
PARAMEDIC's face--

		PARAMEDIC (CONT'D)
		(to the driver)
	--stop the ambulance.

		DEAN
	Thank you.

EXT. STREET - NIGHT

The ambulance pulls over and the back doors fly open.
DEAN leaps out into the crowd.

The OTHER CARS pull over and PRATT and JONES exit. They
scan the area and see DEAN descending a stairwell
marked: METRO.

INT. METRO STATION PLATFORM - NIGHT

DEAN stands at the end of the crowded platform. PRATT
and JONES work through the CROWD as the train pulls in.
DEAN slides on board. The departure HORN sounds. JONES
and PRATT step on.

INT. METRO - NIGHT

DEAN huddles in the back car, panic-breathing, as PRATT
and JONES move through the cars searching for faces.

DEAN looks for an out. He sees an emergency stop handle.

He YANKS it forward. PASSENGERS yell. The brakes lock
and SCREECH. The train slows. Then stops.

DEAN opens the door.

And jumps. He looks around. Just black curved track in
either direction. He starts running.

Then he hears it.

The horrible SCREECHING of an approaching train.

Trapped.

On one side, the train he left. On the other, a wall.

He runs down the track with all that's left.

PRATT and JONES reach the open door and see the
oncoming train bearing down on DEAN. They duck in as
the train SWISHES by.

DEAN lays flat between the tracks, his face kissing
greasy ground as the train screeches over him.

Tons of angry steel are teasing his shirt fabric.

Then it's over. The train's gone. DEAN's alive.

He gets up to see PRATT and JONES leap to the tracks.

		DEAN
		(under his breath)
	I hate these guys.

Then he sees an "EMERGENCY ACCESS" sign beaming in the
darkness. A God-send. DEAN runs for it.

EXT. METRO EMERGENCY ACCESS EXIT - NIGHT

PRATT and JONES fly out the door and into a park.

It's empty. Quiet.

No Dean anywhere.

		REYNOLDS (V.O.)
	I'm confused about something. Maybe
	you can help me out.

EXT. TERRACE - CONTINUOUS

The Lincoln Memorial is seen in the distance. REYNOLDS
has broken off PARTY GUESTS and paces in his tux, an
encrypted cellular phone pressed to his ear.

		REYNOLDS (CONT'D)
	I sit on top of the greatest
	intelligence gathering organization
	in human history. Why can't I bring
	in a man whose name is in the
	fucking phonebook?!

		HICKS
	He's clever. He had help.

		REYNOLDS
	He's clever? He had help?
		(beat)
	Oh.

		HICKS
	Sir--

		REYNOLDS
	No, no, I'm sorry. I didn't realize
	you were hoping to be transferred
	to a weathership outside Greenland.

		HICKS
	I just meant--

		REYNOLDS
	I don't care if he's Solomon with
	Saint Joseph sitting in his lap. I
	want the tape and I want him. Now is--

A WAITER with a tray steps out onto the terrace...

		REYNOLDS (CONT'D)
		(to the WAITER)
	Yes?

		WAITER
	Puffed cheese?

		REYNOLDS
	No thank you.

		WAITER
	I also have tiny pizzas and
	mushrooms stuffed with--

		REYNOLDS
	Do I look like I want a tiny pizza?

		WAITER
	No.

		REYNOLDS
	Then let's assume I don't.

		WAITER
	Yes sir.

The WAITER goes back inside.

		REYNOLDS
		(into phone)
	Now is that clear?

		WAITER
	Yes sir.

REYNOLDS disconnects, breathes deeply, and goes back to
the party.

EXT. RACHEL'S CONDO BUILDING - NIGHT

DEAN watches from the shadows. It seems quiet. He's
about to move for the entrance when he sees--

A cigarette lighter flame-up inside a parked car. TWO
MEN sit inside, watching. DEAN retreats into the shadows.

EXT. RACHEL'S CONDO - BACK ENTRANCE - NIGHT

Quiet. DEAN listens through the door and hears nothing.
He KNOCKS softly.

No reply.

He tries the doorknob. It opens.

INT. RACHEL'S KITCHEN - NIGHT

DEAN enters. The place is still.

		DEAN
	Rachel?

No answer. DEAN drifts through the living room. A lamp
is knocked over on the floor. DEAN keeps moving into
the bedroom. He stops in the doorway - eyes fixed inside.

DEAN'S POV: RACHEL lies on her stomach, naked in bed.

		DEAN
		(approaching)
	Rachel?

She doesn't respond. He touches her.

Nothing.

He turns her over. Her face is frozen, eyes open, neck
purpled and bruised with signs of strangulation.

		DEAN
	Oh God--

DEAN wants to throw up but holds it down.

Then, under a night table, he sees a shirt. He grabs it.

DEAN'S POV: An oxford button-down. The inside collar is
stamped with a dry-cleaner's marker reading: R. DEAN.

Panic overtakes horror as DEAN quickly searches for
anything else of his that may have been planted inside
the apartment.

Under the bed - a cufflink.

In the bathroom - a hairbrush.

On the desk - documents with his name on them.

DEAN shoves everything into a garbage bag. Grabbing a
towel, he retraces his steps, wiping his prints from
everything he touched.

Exiting, he wipes off the doorknob as--

A NEIGHBORS DOOR OPENS. A COUPLE stumbles out, laughing,
kissing...and noticing DEAN leaving Rachel's condo.

INT. UNDERGROUND PARKING GARAGE - NIGHT

JERRY walks alone through the large underground garage
on the way to his car. He pauses, thinking he's heard
something.

Nothing.

He continues walking. He reaches his car. Suddenly
someone comes up behind him fast. JERRY spins--

--it's DEAN.

		DEAN
		(whispering)
	Jerry--

		JERRY
	Christ!

		DEAN
	Ssh!

		JERRY
	Bobby--

		DEAN
	It's the NSA. They're the ones
	doing this.

		JERRY
	Bobby--

		DEAN
	The NSA's doing this 'cause they
	think I have something. And they
	killed--

		JERRY
	Calm down.

		DEAN
	They killed Rachel.

		JERRY
		(pause)
	Rachel's dead?

		DEAN
	Yes.

		JERRY
	Jesus.

		DEAN
	My stuff's all over her apartment.

		JERRY
	Bobby--

		DEAN
	They're framing me.

		JERRY
	Why would they--

		DEAN
	I don't know. I mean--

		JERRY
	Why would the NSA--

		DEAN
	I don't know!

		JERRY
	You're tired.

		DEAN
	Jerry--

		JERRY
	Listen to me.

		DEAN
	You gotta--

		JERRY
	No, listen to me. You gotta let me
	bring you in.

		DEAN
	No, I--

		JERRY
	You gotta let me bring you in to
	the police.

		DEAN
	I won't make it to the police. They
	won't let me get there. You go.

		JERRY
	To the cops?

		DEAN
	To the NSA. Make a deal. Tell 'em
	to stop. Tell 'em I don't have what
	they're after. Make a deal.

		JERRY
	Bobby, you're in way over your head.

		DEAN
	Go to 'em, Jerry.

		JERRY
	I have a family.

		DEAN
	So do I!

JERRY looks at the ground for a long moment...

		JERRY
	I'm sorry, man.

		DEAN
	No. No, it's okay.

DEAN starts to leave...

		JERRY
	Bobby? Piece of advice?

		DEAN
	Yeah?

		JERRY
	Turn yourself in.

		DEAN
	Jerry?

		JERRY
	Yeah?

		DEAN
	Go fuck yourself.

EXT. STREET - EARLY MORNING

Establishing. A quiet street in Dean's neighborhood.
Several REPORTERS are camped in Dean's driveway
entrance, sipping coffees. Farther down the street, a
JEEP GRAND CHEROKEE is parked. The driver waits and
watches.

EXT. BACKYARD - SAME TIME

DEAN sneaks between two large houses, ducking by
windows and scaling a fence. Somewhere a DOG BARKS a
warning as DEAN plows through a large hedge, entering
the backyard to his home.

INT. DEAN'S HOUSE/KITCHEN - SAME TIME

DEAN quietly unlocks the door and enters. He listens.

The house is quiet. Empty.

INT. DEAN'S FOYER - DAY

KEYS JINGLE in the front lock. The door opens and STACY
enters.

The TV suddenly REMOTES ON - VOLUME LOUD.

She turns as DEAN approaches fast--

		STACY
	Robert--

DEAN's hand cups her mouth as he pulls her into a
pantry closet.

INT. PANTRY CLOSET - CONTINUOUS

		DEAN
		(barely a whisper)
	Listen to me. The house is bugged.
	So we gotta be quiet, okay?

STACY nods understanding. DEAN slowly removes his hand.

		DEAN (CONT'D)
		(whispering)
	Is Eric in school?

		STACY
	Yes.

		DEAN
	Has anyone been by? Police? FBI?

		STACY
	Just reporters.

		DEAN
	I wish you'd gone to your parents
	like I asked you.

		STACY
	This is my house. Nobody's kicking
	me out of my house. I picked those
	drapes.

		DEAN
	I don't think anybody wants the
	drapes, Stacy, I think the drapes
	are okay.

		STACY
	What happened to your head?

		DEAN
	I was in a car chase and a small
	explosion. Now listen to me: The
	NSA is behind this. They think that
	guy I told you about, Daniel Zavitz,
	they think Zavitz gave me a tape or
	computer chip of some kind that
	could be damaging to them. So
	they're doing all these things
	electronically. The bank records,
	the surveillance. They're the ones
	who broke into the house. Now I
	know there's no reason to believe
	me. But I love you. And I love our
	son. So just believe me anyway.
		(pause)
	Please.

STACY gently touches his forehead where he's been cut...

		STACY
	Does that hurt?

		DEAN
	Well...yeah.

		STACY
	Good.

		DEAN
	Stacy--

She grabs him and kisses him. The kiss lasts a good
long time before STACY smacks him on the arm--

		STACY
	I told you they could do this. I
	told you they had this kind of
	capability and that with this anti-
	terrorism it would be just another--

		DEAN
	Stacy...Stacy...maybe now isn't the
	best time for the I-Told-You-So speech.

She kisses him again.

		STACY
	I'm sorry I didn't believe you.

		DEAN
	That's okay.

		STACY
	I opened the present you got me
	from Harrison's.

		DEAN
	You opened the thing?

		STACY
	The lingerie.

		DEAN
	That was for Christmas.

		STACY
	I was missing you.

		DEAN
	You're as bad as Eric. I've got an
	entire family of people who root
	through--

It dawns on him...everything starts coming together...

		DEAN (CONT'D)
	...who root through...uh...presents,
	and...

		STACY
	What is it?

		DEAN
	Oh Christ.

INT. JEEP GRAND-CHEROKEE - DAY

The DRIVER continues to watch the area. Then--

DRIVER's POV: THE RANGE ROVER flies out of the driveway,
tires SCREECHING as it speeds through the quiet
neighborhood.

The REPORTERS stare at each other a beat--

--then leap for their cars.

		DRIVER
		(into sleeve-mic)
	504 to 501. Rover's fleeing west on
	Sutton. Driver appeared male!

		JONES (O.S.)
		(radio effect)
	What's the wife's '20'?

		DRIVER
	She's off location with a friend.

		JONES (O.S.)
	Alright - move! 501 - all units.
	Take him down!

EXT. STREET - CONTINUOUS

Unmarked cars of various descriptions rapidly appear
from nowhere giving chase.

		ANOTHER AGENT (O.S.)
		(radio effect)
	502 to 501, I've got the eyeball.
	He's approaching Ridgeview, we'll
	take him at the intersection.

The RANGE ROVER speeds through the neighborhood.
Suddenly, two cars are out in front, blocking the way.
The Range Rover swerves and breaks as two more cars rip
up behind, boxing it in. An un-marked Trans-Am lags
behind, keeping reporters at bay.

Doors fling open. JONES and THREE MEN, all in plain
clothes, pistols and MAC-10 aimed at the Range Rover.

Nothing happens.

The MEN move closer--

JONES grabs the door and rips it open, revealing Dean's
PISS-FRIGHTENED NANNY behind the wheel in Dean's trench
coat and hat.

JONES YANKS her out, puts her hard to the ground, gun
jammed to her head, as other search the Range Rover for
Dean.

EXT. DEAN'S DRIVEWAY - CONTINUOUS

DEAN drives the Nanny's rusted, low-rider Dodge out of
the driveway. He pauses and looks. The streets are empty.

He turns onto the street and calmly drives away.

EXT. ELEMENTARY SCHOOL PLAYGROUND - DAY

Establishing. A playground jammed with kids. A kickball
game's in progress. ERIC waits his turn to kick. TRACY,
a college-age teaching assistant comes over.

		TRACY
	Eric?

ERIC looks up...

		TRACY (CONT'D)
	Your father's here.

EXT. SCHOOL BUILDING - DAY

DEAN stands at the edge of the playground in clean,
casual clothes. ERIC runs over, face glowing.

		ERIC
	Dad!

		DEAN
	Do I know you?

		ERIC
	Where've you been?

		DEAN
	Having an adventure. I can't tell
	you about it right now, but I'll
	tell you about it soon.

		ERIC
	Are you and mom getting a divorce?

		DEAN
	No. We're never getting a divorce.
	We were having a fight. It happens
	sometimes.

		ERIC
	Who won the fight?

		DEAN
	Men don't win fights with women,
	son, I'll tell you about that
	sometime, too. In the meantime,
	I've got a question for you, and
	it's incredibly important that you
	tell me the truth. Under no
	circumstances will I be angry with
	you. This is a total Get-Out-Of-
	Jail-Free card. Ready?

		ERIC
	Yeah.

		DEAN
	Did you take anything--anything at
	all--out of those Christmas bags I
	brought home last week.

ERIC hangs his head...busted...then shouts to a GROUP
OF KIDS on the playground...

		ERIC
		(shouting)
	DYLAAAAN!!

DYLAN comes trotting over, carrying his backpack...

		DYLAN
	Hey, Mr. D., what's happenin'?

		DEAN
	Dylan, I was just asking Eric if--

		DYLAN
	Oh, God, I knew it was stupid, I
	knew we'd get caught. But the
	Gameboy was just sitting there.
	Right on top of the bag. Yes. Yes.
	We took the GameBoy out of the bag,
	but with every intention of putting
	it back.

		DEAN
		(pause)
	You're a tough nut to crack, Dylan.

DYLAN hunts through the backpack as DEAN and ERIC looks
on. All kinds of junk flies out--candy, comics, game-
cartridges--

		DYLAN
	It was broken when we found it, I
	swear. I tried fixing it for you. I
	even put in new batteries.
		(pulling out the GameBoy)
	The screen scrambles whenever you
	boot up. I'd try to get your money
	back.

DEAN eyes the pieces of the GameBoy, knowing that
somewhere in the puzzle of plastic and chips is the key
to his problems.

EXT. BALTIMORE SHERATON - EVENING

PEDESTRIANS walk on the sidewalk. A MAN comes along and
drops a few letters in the corner mailbox.

From the other direction comes DEAN. Without stopping,
he casually slashes the mailbox with chalk.

INT. MOTEL ROOM - NIGHT

DEAN's asleep. There's a SOFT SHUFFLING SOUND. The
CAMERA EXPLORES for the source, moving by the windows,
flashing neon, a TV and finally, the door.

We PUSH CLOSER as a MULE TOOL snakes under the door.

The tool pops upright against the door's inside. The
strap drapes over the doorknob and tightens. The
doorknob turns and opens.

SOMEONE slips in--

CLOSE ON DEAN asleep. A HAND covers his mouth. DEAN's
eyes go wide.

Then he sees it's BRILL...

		BRILL
		(whispering)
	Get dressed. We're leaving.

		DEAN
		(whispering)
	You could knock on the door, you
	know, and I'd open it.

		BRILL
	Move it.

EXT. CAPE CHARLES - 4 A.M.

Establishing. The 10-mile Chesapeake Bay Bridge crosses
the Bay like a serpent worming toward distant Norfolk.
Traffic is thin at this hour.

		NEWSCASTER (O.S.)
	Dean, the attorney recently under
	investigation for a money laundering
	scheme, was seen leaving Ms. Banks
	apartment late last night.

We PUSH IN on a TOYOTA PICK-UP truck heading south.

INT. PICK-UP - CONTINUOUS

BRILL drives with DEAN riding shotgun.

		NEWSCASTER (O.S.)
	Police are seeking--

BRILL ejects as cassette from the dashboard and hands
it to DEAN.

		BRILL
	I taped it off the 11 o'clock news.

		DEAN
	And you were worried about me.
	That's nice, I appreciate--

		BRILL
	I was worried about my hundred and
	twenty 'K'.

		DEAN
	We said a hundred.

		BRILL
	The price rises with the temperature
	and right now you're smokin'. But
	you're right, you should shop
	around and get the best price. I'll
	just let you out here.

		DEAN
		(agreeing)
	One-twenty.

BRILL checks the rear-view mirror.

BRILL's POV: Car headlights following in the distance.

		BRILL
	Did you call anyone?

		DEAN
	What do you mean?

		BRILL
	I mean did you call anyone.

		DEAN
	Look, my wife is understandably--

		BRILL
	Jesus!

		DEAN
	I called my wife!

		BRILL
	What'd I tell you?

		DEAN
	I didn't use my name.

		BRILL
	What'd I tell you?

		DEAN
	I called from a payphone!

		BRILL
	What'd I tell you?

		DEAN
	You told me no calls.

		BRILL
	I told you no calls.

BRILL does a bootleggers U-turn. Several cars pass by
in the opposite direction.

		DEAN
	Sorry.

		BRILL
	You don't get it. They go through
	your phone records. They fuckin'
	monitor everyone you called in the
	last--

		DEAN
	I didn't use my name.

		BRILL
	Oh, I'll bet that threw 'em off the
	scent. I sure hope you covered the
	mouthpiece with a handkerchief and
	used a funny voice!

BRILL turns off the headlights, does another U-turn,
pulls off on an emergency road and stops.

He turns off the engine, rolls down the window, looks
up into the night sky and listens.

BRILL's POV: A cloudy night. Silent except for the
water and a distant fog-horn. No sounds of aircraft.

		DEAN
		(looking up as well)
	I don't hear anything.
		(on BRILL's silence)
	Maybe you're wrong.

BRILL is staring upward...

		BRILL
	A hundred and fifty.

INT. NRO KEYHOLE-12 LAB - CONTINUOUS

Re-establishing. A massive, dark place filled with
glowing monitors.

CLOSE ON A MONITOR - displaying a live SAT feed showing
a thermograph image of Brill's truck. The color heat
image of BRILL looking upward is fairly clear. He pops
his head back into the truck and pulls onto the road.
The satellite continues tracking the truck.

		BRILL (O.S.)
	It's a consumated marriage.

INT. TOYOTA - NIGHT

BRILL drives along a high fence surrounding acres of
empty warehouses, docks and rust-bitten fences. He's
still on constant alert - looking for sign of their
presence.

		BRILL (CONT'D)
	The NSA's been in bed with the
	entire tele-communications industry
	since the 40's. They've infected
	everything: Banks, computers,
	phones, mail, name it.
		(stopping the car near
		the gate)
	The more technology we buy into,
	the easier it is keeping tabs on us.
	It's a brave new world.
		(handing DEAN the keys)
	At least it better be.

		DEAN
	How do you know so much?

		BRILL
	None of your business.

		DEAN
	You used to work for 'em, didn't you?

		BRILL
	I was a traffic analyst.

DEAN gives him a look that says, "I don't know what
that means".

		BRILL (CONT'D)
	I intercepted phone calls.

		DEAN
	How'd you get around the tap orders?

		BRILL
	They can tap anything as along as
	it's an airwave intercept.
	Cellulars and pagers your kid can
	do.
		(driving through)
	Hard-line calls we'd pick off the
	relays as they were being fed into
	ground cables or fired up to the
	SATs. We'd suck in everything. All
	foreign, most domestic.
		(DEAN re-closes the gate)
	Domestic was my group. Druggies,
	radicals, loud-mouths. Anyone we
	wanted.

		DEAN
		(climbing back in)
	How'd you have the manpower to--

		BRILL
		(driving again)
	Meade has 18 underground acres of
	computers. They scan every
	phonecall for target words like
	"bomb" or "President". We red-flag
	phone numbers or voice
	prints...whatever we wanted. When
	the computers found something, it
	was bounced to comparative analysis.

		DEAN
	Jesus.

		BRILL
	That was twenty years ago. With
	digital? They can suck a salt grain
	off a beach.

		DEAN
	Why'd you leave?

		BRILL
	It was '72. I figured we had enough
	problems without monitoring a
	Berkeley kid's class schedule. So I
	sold my story to Ramparts and split.

		DEAN
	They come after you?

		BRILL
		(shrugging it off)
	Well...there'd be too much
	disclosure to prosecute me. So they
	ruined my records and made sure I'd
	never hold a real job again.

The pick-up stops by a long two-story warehouse.

		BRILL (CONT'D)
	What do you think?

		DEAN
	Looks like Detroit.

		BRILL
	Welcome to Santa's Workshop.

INT. WAREHOUSE - NIGHT

BRILL and DEAN enter the 2nd story of a large, empty
structure. DEAN is carrying a crumpled, brown paper bag.

In the center of the cavernous space, a windowless,
cinderblock room built on 5-foot supports.

		BRILL
	I call it the jar. No phone or
	utility lines going in.

BRILL opens a side door revealing a mini-generator. He
pushes the start button. The generator HUMS to life.

		BRILL
	Self-contained. Unplugged from the
	world.
		(opening Jar door)
	Nothing for a wire bug to piggy-
	back in on. That leaves only
	transmitters and signal sweep for
	those.
		(turning on the light)
	Now let's see what we got.

DEAN tosses the paper bag to BRILL, who empties its
contents (the pieces of the GameBoy) on to the table.

EXT. DOCKS - DAWN

DEAN sits alone, smoking a cigarette, and watching
Norfolk rise from dawn's fog.

In the distance we see BRILL coming down from the
warehouse toward DEAN.

He stands behind DEAN for a moment before...

		BRILL
	That is one ugly sunrise.

		DEAN
		(pause)
	It really is.
		(pause)
	Did you find anything?

		BRILL
	Yeah.
		(beat)
	Take a walk with me.

DEAN gets up and joins BRILL. The two of them start in
the direction of the second warehouse.

		BRILL (CONT'D)
	Remember when Senator Hamersley
	died in an accident up near Shenandoah?

		DEAN
	Yeah.

		BRILL
	The NSA killed him.

		DEAN
	Jesus. Do you have proof?

		BRILL
	Well, actually, you have proof.
	Could you walk a little faster please.

		DEAN
	What's going on?

		BRILL
	They're here.

		DEAN
	Who?

		BRILL
	Them.

		DEAN
	Where?

		BRILL
	Here?

		DEAN
	Here?!

		BRILL
	In the warehouse. They're hiding in
	a duct on the third floor. When we
	go back inside, they're gonna kill
	us. When they notice that we're
	moving toward the car, they'll come
	running out of the building.

		DEAN
	'Kay, well, could you walk faster,
	please.

INT. WAREHOUSE - CONTINUOUS

JONES and THREE MEN are huddled in a duct.

		VOICE (O.S.)
		(through radio)
	They're heading to the car.

		JONES
	Move it.

JONES and the three men start down the corridor, guns
drawn.

EXT. THE SECOND WAREHOUSE - CONTINUOUS

DEAN and BRILL are kneeling beside the Chevy, letting
the air out of the tires.

		BRILL
	Empty 'em 'till they're almost flat.
	And turn your head. There might be
	some debris flying your way.

		DEAN
	Why?

And with that, THE FIRST WAREHOUSE EXPLODES, sending a
fireball of debris in all directions.

		DEAN
	What the fuck?!

		BRILL
	They shouldn't have come without
	calling first.

BRILL jumps into the Chevy, turns the key and the
engine ignites. DEAN leaps in. BRILL stomps on the gas
and tires screech. The Chevy hurtles through the
warehouse toward a shut garage door. BRILL clicks a
remote. The door rises.

OUTSIDE THE WAREHOUSE - The Chevy roars outward,
screams around a corner, then speeds down a road lined
with warehouses.

DEAN looks down an intersecting road to glimpse a
Saturn sedan gaining on a parallel road.

		BRILL
	Where's your gun?

They pass an area with no warehouses. The Saturn turns,
heading straight at them.

		DEAN
	Back at the warehouse.

The Saturn pulls on the road behind them. The MAN in
the Saturn leans out and fires an assault rifle. The
side window by Dean's head shatters.

BRILL one-hands the pistol and checks the load.

		DEAN
		(re: the pistol)
	Gimme that.

		BRILL
	You sure?

		DEAN
	You're driving.

		BRILL
	Those are Feds.

		DEAN
		(taking the pistol)
	I didn't see a warrant. Did you see
	a warrant?

The Chevy enters a narrow lane, the Saturn right behind.
With the Chevy's tires flat and flapping, the Saturn
hugs their rear. DEAN looks back again as the RIFLEMAN
FIRES--

The rear window EXPLODES. DEAN pops up and fires three
quick, well-placed rounds.

The Saturn swerves and drops back. BRILL's impressed.

DEAN looks forward to see an exit road blocked by an
iron cross-bar. BRILL, unfazed, pushes the Chevy faster.
Beam or no beam, he's going through.

		BRILL
	Think we let out enough air?

		DEAN
		(realizing)
	Oh my God...

BRILL and DEAN hit the deck as the Chevy's hood scrapes
just under the beam. The windshield frame takes the
full impact. The beam slices through steel and glass,
decapitating the car. They emerge on the other side
minus roof and windows as--

--the Saturn SCREECH-STOPS inches from the beam and
debris. A MAN leaps out, shoulders his rifle and aims--

--but the Chevy disappears around a building.

EXT. HIGHWAY - EARLY MORNING

A foggy morning. The rural highway's deserted at this
early hour. The Chevy rumbles by...

INT. CHEVY - CONTINUOUS

DEAN and BRILL, windblown but alive, remove shards of
glass. BRILL eyes the road behind him.

Empty.

		BRILL
	We lost 'em.

		DEAN
	That wasn't so hard.

		BRILL
	Fuckin-A.

		DEAN
	Let's not do the tire thing anymore,
	okay?

		BRILL
	Yeah, I can see where that'd--

He stops talking.

He hears ROTOR THUMPS as a black HELICOPTER appears
over a fog-laced hillside, swooping down.

BRILL floors it. The helicopter drops in closer as
BRILL swerves back and forth while taking a curve at 70-
plus on flapping tires. A helicopter SHARP-SHOOTER aims
with an M-16.

A spray of high-powered slugs suddenly rip into the
Chevy's hood. The engine starts knocking.

		BRILL
	These guys are incredibly persistent.

		DEAN
	Tell me about it.

The road straightens. Up ahead, a tunnel.

More bullets slice the hood. Radiator fluid starts
hissing. The Chevy starts dying.

BRILL stomps the pedal, squeezing out every last kick
of horsepower.

Rubber flaps. Tires shred. Steam hisses. Bullets fly.

The helicopter swoops in lower and lower for the kill shot.

INT. HELICOPTER - CONTINUOUS

The SHARP-SHOOTER lines DEAN in his sights.

The PILOT keeps pace, dropping closer. The SHARP-
SHOOTER has the shot.

The Chevy reaches the tunnel's opening on sparking,
screeching wheel rims.

The helicopter pulls up, missing the hill by inches.

But not the power lines. The PILOT sees them too late.
The helicopter flies into a web of cables. The upper
rotor slices neatly off. The helicopter's body rockets
downward to the road where it bounces and skids like a
rock on water until it meets an oncoming semi-truck
head-on.

BLAM!

EXT. INSIDE THE TUNNEL - CONTINUOUS

BRILL tries steering but metal wheels on concrete don't
work. The car shimmies like it's on ice. Sparks fly as
they bash into the tunnel wall, grinding to a stop.

INT. DODGE - CONTINUOUS

A GRUNGE-DUDE blasts his car-stereo as he enters the
tunnel, unaware of the mayhem behind him.

He slows, seeing a smoking wreck ahead.

Closer, he sees DEAN waving him down. He slows more.
Bad move.

BRILL opens the rear door, leaps in, and points his
pistol at the GRUNGE-DUDE's face.

DEAN leaps in front.

		BRILL
	Drive.

		DEAN
	We're not gonna hurt you.

		BRILL
	Drive.

		DEAN
	Tell him we're not gonna hurt him.

		BRILL
	Drive or I'll blow your fuckin'
	head off.

		DEAN
	No he won't.

		BRILL
	Goddammit--

		DEAN
	We're honest people and we need
	your help. I'll give you two-
	hundred dollars if you--

		GRUNGE-DUDE
		(leaping out)
	Take it!

		DEAN
	Actually, I don't have two-hundred
	dollars.

		BRILL
	Drive the damn car!

DEAN slides into the driver's seat, drops it in gear
and goes.

The Dodge erupts from the tunnel.

Up ahead, the Saturn and another car approach fast in
the opposite lane, speeding toward the tunnel's opening.
The car's fly by, unaware of DEAN and BRILL passing in
the Dodge.

The Dodge continues on, fading into the fog.

INT. NSA/CORRIDOR - DAY

REYNOLDS and HICKS walk down a white hallway three
football fields in length, filled with bustling
employees conservatively dressed.

		HICKS
	We found two sets of latent prints
	in the rubble of Brill's studio.
	One was Dean's. The other, we
	believe, belongs to Brill.

		REYNOLDS
	We believe?

		HICKS
	Well...his real name's Edward Lyle.

		REYNOLDS
	Lyle?!

		HICKS
	Yes sir.

		REYNOLDS
	You're kidding me.

		HICKS
	No sir.

		REYNOLDS
	Dean's with Lyle.

		HICKS
	And they have the video. That's
	confirmed.

		REYNOLDS
	So they know everything.

		HICKS
	If they've looked at the video.

		REYNOLDS
	Oh, let's assume that they have.

		HICKS
	If he's with Lyle it means he's got
	resources.

		REYNOLDS
	Resources, that's a good point.
	He's got resources. All we've got
	is a six-hundred billion dollar
	organization! Now goddammit, Hicks,
	you find 'em. You find 'em and you
	end it now!

REYNOLDS walks off leaving HICKS to ponder his fate.

EXT. USED CAR LOT - DAY

Establishing. Plastic flags and PRICES SLASHED signs
are everywhere. A blue Taurus pulls off the lot...

		DEAN (O.S.)
	We'll take the tape directly to CBS.
	I'll hand it directly to the News
	Department.

INT. TAURUS - CONTINUED

		BRILL
	Listen to you, "directly". You're
	not gonna get near the News
	Department. And if you did, it'd
	never get on the air. Time-Life
	buried the Zapruder film for 15 years.

		DEAN
	What about newspapers and magazines?

		BRILL
	Same thing?

		DEAN
	So what do we do now?

		BRILL
	I was thinkin' about asking for my
	hundred and fifty grand and calling
	it quits.

		DEAN
	What if we do a mailing to Congressmen.

		BRILL
	It'd never get through. All
	packages are screened, x-rayed and
	then hand-searched for explosives.
	You didn't like my "give-me-my-
	money" idea?

INT. TAURUS - NIGHT

BRILL drives. DEAN thinks.

		DEAN
	What if we hand deliver to their
	homes or office?

		BRILL
	The area's wired for surveillance,
	they'll be looking for those moves.

		DEAN
	Well how do I know what they're--

		BRILL
	I know. I know what they're looking
	for and I'm telling you.

The car radio is playing a newscast...

		NEWSCASTER (O.S.)
		(from the radio)
	--after which, Senator Albert will
	address a fund-raiser at Boston
	University.

		DEAN
	What if we put it on the internet?

		BRILL
	Have you seen how fuckin' slow the
	net is? It'd take ten minutes to
	unload enough video so that people
	know what they're seeing, and it'd
	take the NSA maybe 40 seconds to
	see it coming down and shut down
	the access.

		NEWSCASTER (O.S.)
		(from the radio)
	--this will be the last stop on the
	Senator's eight-city tour before
	the Senate votes on Tuesday.

		BRILL
		(reconsidering)
	But maybe if there were no phone
	line--

DEAN has started listening to the radio...

		BRILL (CONT'D)
	What if we transmitted it over
	cellular?

		DEAN
	Listen--

		BRILL
	Nah, they'd shut down the pin number.

		DEAN
	What if--

		BRILL
	If they couldn't do that, they'd
	shut down the whole system, all the
	relays.

		DEAN
	What if--

		BRILL
	They've done it before. Takes maybe
	two minutes.

		DEAN
	What if--

		BRILL
	What if what?

		DEAN
	What if we just fucked with 'em?

		BRILL
		(pause)
	How?

		DEAN
	Same way they did with you and me.
	We take their biggest guy and turn
	him into one of us.

		BRILL
	Reynolds.

		DEAN
	No.

		BRILL
	Who?

A MONTAGE OF EVENTS:

INT. MOTEL ROOM - DAY

BRILL educates DEAN on simple ways to alter one's
appearance.

		DEAN (V.O.)
	Senator Sam Albert, senior
	Republican. Very well respected.

INT. BOSTON UNIVERSITY/AUDITORIUM - DAY

A large auditorium. Preparations are being made for
Senator Albert's upcoming speech. BRILL and DEAN
casually case the area for vulnerabilities.

		DEAN
	We'll play the NSA's game only
	we'll play it badly.

EXT. LE MERIDIAN HOTEL, BOSTON - DAY

Establishing. A five-star hotel overlooking
Massachusetts Bay.

		BRILL (V.O.)
	You wanna get caught spying on Albert?

		DEAN (V.O.)
	No, I want the NSA to get caught
	spying on Albert.

INT. HOTEL LOBBY - CONTINUOUS

CHRISTA HAWKINS, late 20's, the Senator's advance-
person, stands at registration securing rooms for her
boss and his team.

		DEAN (V.O.)
	We're gonna lead Albert by the nose
	to one conclusion. And then when
	he's pissed as hell, we're gonna
	drop the tape in his lap. How fast
	can you teach me what I need to know?

		BRILL (V.O.)
	How fast can you learn?

Next to CHRISTA, looking conservative and altered in
appearance, is DEAN, eavesdropping on the Senator's
room numbers and any other pertinent info.

EXT. RADIO SHACK - DAY

Establishing. One of those cheesy places in a mini-mall.

		DEAN (V.O.)
	Pretty fast.

		BRILL
	We'll have to re-stock some basics.

INT. RADIO SHACK - CONTINUOUS

BRILL and DEAN go shopping.

		BRILL
	Bugs, frequency scanners, contact
	mics, transmitters, pin-holes,
	fiber optics--

INT. MOTEL ROOM - DAY

The curtains are drawn. Devices cover the table and bed.

		BRILL
	What do you know about locking
	cellular phone signals?

		DEAN
	I know my phone number and I know
	the number for SportsPhone. Beyond
	that--

		BRILL
	Shit.

INT. TAURUS - DAY

DEAN drives while BRILL sits with his open PC lap-top
connect to his cellular phone.

		BRILL
	A 'modified' OKI 900 interfaced
	with a lap-top creates an enormously
	powerful tool.
		(referring to the cell-phone)
	I got into the software, did some
	code re-writing and turned it into
	one of the best scan-looking
	systems around.

CLOSE ON SCREEN - A street map appears with positions
of the network's relays. Lines appear indicating all
in-progress cellular calls along with their locations.

		BRILL (CONT'D)
	This is every call on the grid. I
	can lock and position any one I
	want and follow the hand-offs in
	real time.

BRILL punches a number into the cellular and the phone
locks on the signal. Through the lap-top, we hear
RINGING and then an ANSWERING VOICE.

		WOMAN'S VOICE (O.S.)
	Super Shuttle.

		MAN'S VOICE (O.S.)
	This is Dr. Jonathan Phillips, 102
	Stern Drive in Brockton. I need an
	airport ride on Friday at 6 PM with
	a return pick-up Monday at 5.
	There'll be two of us and--

		BRILL
		(disconnecting)
	Need a place to stay for the
	weekend? A new TV?
		(BRILL has repeated the process)

		ANOTHER MAN'S VOICE (O.S.)
	Triple-A Emergency Road Service.
	May I have your name and membership
	number?

		YOUNG WOMAN'S VOICE (O.S.)
	Colleen Crane. Card number 020-113--

		DEAN
	Unbelievable.

		BRILL
	All from a hundred dollar scanner
	at Radio Shack. But it's time for
	business.

BRILL dials his computer into a new line. TONES and
COMMANDS fly quick as Brill's computer modems into another.

		DEAN
	What are you dialing?

		BRILL
	AmeriTech's data-base.
		(pointing on the screen)
	There's Albert's D.C. office
	address and his phone's identity
	code. Now we just reprogram out
	phone with his ID code and you know
	what we've got?

		SENATOR ALBERT (O.S.)
		(mid-conversation)
	--Don't think it could've gone any
	better. Tell me, how's Deb? How're
	my grandchildren?

		BRILL
	A receiver tuned permanently to the
	Senator's phone.

EXT. FREEWAY - CONTINUOUS

A customized RV zips down the highway.

		SENATOR'S WIFE (O.S.)
	Melissa has a fever. When will you
	be in the room?

INT. RV - CONTINUOUS

It's a plush affair befitting the Senator's position.
ALBERT speaks in the cellular phone while an aide,
PATRICK, reviews last minute changes for Albert's
upcoming speech.

		SENATOR ALBERT
	Not 'till later tonight. We're
	going to the campus now.
		(beat)
	I'll call you after I've checked in.
		(beat)
	I love you too, dear.

INT. LE MERIDIAN HOTEL/LOBBY - DAY

CHRISTA stands at the front desk as the CLERK hands her
several faxes.

DEAN, disguised, sits across the lobby reading a paper.

DEAN's POV: CHRISTA exits the hotel to a waiting car.

		DEAN
		(into concealed sleeve mic)
	She just left.

INT. HOTEL CORRIDOR - DAY

Numbered doors on each side. BRILL walks down the hall,
hair slicked, mustache, wearing a suit and carrying a
briefcase.

		BRILL (V.O.)
	The important thing about
	installations is numbers.

INT. CHRISTA'S HOTEL ROOM - DAY

SERIES OF SHOTS:

BRILL entering CHRISTA's room and opening his briefcase
revealing tools and listening bugs.

		BRILL (V.O.)
	They may find one, but they're not
	gonna find 'em all.

--BRILL planting devices behind the headboard--

--Inside the telephone--

--Behind the desk--

--Inside the TV--

--BRILL rifling through CHRISTA's personal items,
eyeing paper work, photographing interesting documents.

--BRILL opening a connecting door, picking a second
lock, and entering the adjoining suite.

INT. CHRISTA'S HOTEL ROOM - NIGHT

A clock reads 1:28 AM. The lights are on and the bed
unslept in. Christa's not seen. Then the connecting
door opens--

CHRISTA steps from the Senator's adjoining suite in a
silk robe, nothing underneath. She turns in the doorway,
revealing ALBERT, naked in a towel.

CHRISTA closes the door, climbs in bed and grabs the
remote. She clicks on the TV.

FEEDBACK SCREECHES from the set.

She tries changing channels but the SCREECHING
continues. She tries turning off the set, but it won't
turn off. She grabs the phone and dials.

		CHRISTA
		(into phone)
	Can you send someone up right away.
	I'm having a problem with my TV...
	It's screeching and I--
		(beat)
	It's screeching and I--

CHRISTA is noticing that her voice is causing the TV
image to distort in sync.

		CHRISTA (CONT'D)
	It's screeching and I can't turn it
	off.

INT. HOTEL RESTAURANT - MORNING

SENATOR ALBERT dines with an aide as PATRICK approaches,
a grave look on his face. PATRICK takes a seat.

		SENATOR ALBERT
	What happened to you last night?

PATRICK reaches in his case and pulls out one of
Brill's listening bugs and hands it to ALBERT who puts
on his eyeglasses.

		PATRICK
	Christa found it last night
	attached to her TV. It's a
	listening device.

		SENATOR ALBERT
	A bug?

		PATRICK
	Yeah.

		SENATOR ALBERT
	Jesus H.--

		PATRICK
	We should everything checked.
	There's a company in Cambridge
	called Baudmore. They're discreet.

Seated next to ALBERT's table is DEAN, unnoticed as he
sips coffee, skims news, and eavesdrops on their
MURMURS with a small, concealed parabolic mic and ear-
phone.

		SENATOR ALBERT
	Well get somebody down here today.
	I don't know what the hell this is
	all about.

EXT. STREET CORNER - DAY

A phone distribution box is open, revealing a mass of
circuit boards. BRILL stands at the box holding a
circuit-dialer phone to his ear.

INTERCUT WITH:

INT. HOTEL LOBBY/NEWS STAND - CONTINUOUS

DEAN watches PATRICK approach a pay phone.

		DEAN
		(into sleeve mic)
	He's going into the payphone
	outside the restaurant. It's a
	Cambridge company called Baudmore.

BRILL connects two alligator clips to a line inside the
box.

		BRILL
		(into sleeve mic)
	Got it.

BRILL's phone line immediately rings. He waits...then
answers.

		BRILL
		(into phone)
	Baudmore Consultants.

		PATRICK
	Is Jerry Delsano in?

		BRILL
	Who's calling?

		PATRICK
	It's Pat Cary. I work for Senator
	Sam Albert and I was given Jerry's
	name.

		BRILL
	Jerry's on vacation 'till Monday. I
	can give him the message when he
	gets back. That was Patrick and the
	last name--

		PATRICK
	The thing is...it really can't wait.

		BRILL
	My name's Neil. Maybe I can help you.

INT. SENATOR ALBERT'S HOTEL ROOM - DAY

CLOSE ON A FREQUENCY COUNTER sweeping a chest of
drawers. The device starts BUZZING, indicating a
transmitter.

BRILL, disguised, is on hands and knees, searching
under a chest where he 'discovers' a bug he planted
earlier.

		BRILL
		(removing the transmitter)
	Oh yeah. Got another one here.

BRILL shows it to PATRICK, a very embarrassed HOTEL
MANAGER and a very serious HEAD OF HOTEL SECURITY.

		BRILL (CONT'D)
	Nasty fella. A TX-703. Remote on-
	off, three-thousand foot range.
	Shit, you could listen from a
	shopping mall across the street.

INT. SENATOR ALBERT'S RV - DAY

BRILL stands in front of SENATOR ALBERT.

		BRILL
	Well, sir, I'm afraid it's not as
	simple as that. Your average
	newspaper guy or Hard Copy lady or
	whatever, they can't buy this stuff.

		SENATOR ALBERT
	Well then who can?

		BRILL
	Ah, sir, you know, it's not for me
	to say.

		SENATOR ALBERT
	What do you mean? Who can buy this
	kind of equipment.

		BRILL
	The thing is, Senator, and I don't
	want to get in the middle of
	nothing, but--

		SENATOR ALBERT
	What are you saying?

		BRILL
	Most of this stuff's only available
	to law enforcement.

		SENATOR ALBERT
	Law enforcement?

		BRILL
	FBI, CIA, NSA, local cops.

		SENATOR ALBERT
	Are you sure about this?

BRILL unwraps a towel revealing the grease-covered NSA
tracker he removed from Dean's BMW.

		BRILL
	I yanked this off your RV. It's a
	Global Positioning Tracker.

		SENATOR ALBERT
	Oh my God.

		BRILL
	Tracks your location to the inch
	and works directly with--you know...

		SENATOR ALBERT
	With what?

		BRILL
	With spy satellites. I don't like
	saying these things Senator...

		SENATOR ALBERT
		(shaking BRILL's hand)
	Neil, thank you for your help.

		BRILL
	Anytime.

PATRICK escorts BRILL out of the RV.

The SENATOR, fuming, opens a book, looks up a phone
number and punches it into his phone.

		SENATOR ALBERT
		(into the phone)
	This is Sam Albert. Put me through
	to Langley. Dick Marshal's office.

INT. UNIVERSITY COFFEE SHOP - DAY

A place packed with STUDENTS, computers and TEACHERS.
DEAN sits in a corner reading a magazine, but what he's
really watching is--

A WELL-DRESSED MAN at the counter, his back to DEAN,
ordering a cup of coffee.

The MAN glances at DEAN off the mirror behind the counter.

BRILL walks in and joins DEAN.

		BRILL
	Albert's primed. We'll let him stew
	for a day and then drop the tape.

BRILL looks over at the WELL-DRESSED MAN.

		DEAN
	He came in four minutes ago.

		BRILL
		(pause)
	C'mon.

They're about to start for the front door when an
unmarked police car pulls up in front.

A rowdy group of FRAT BOYS flood in, loud and busy. By
the time they pass, BRILL and DEAN are gone.

The WELL-DRESSED MAN scans the coffee shop and sees the
back door swinging shut.

EXT. STREET - DAY

DEAN and BRILL run down the street, through an alley
and over a fence to another street. They slow as they
approach the parked Taurus. BRILL takes the wheel with
DEAN beside him.

They pull into traffic. Things look good, but then the
UNMARKED CAR and a SQUAD CAR scream up behind, lights
flashing.

INT. TAURUS - CONTINUOUS

BRILL dumps the car into low gear and the Taurus comes
alive.

INT. SQUAD CAR - CONTINUOUS

A COP picks up the radio-mic.

		COP
	One-Lincoln-Nine. In pursuit of two
	suspects, one matching description
	of Robert Dean, wanted in connection
	with a homicide. Suspects northbound
	on--

EXT. BOSTON STREETS - CONTINUOUS

Through alleys, down streets, under an overpass, down a
one-way street, barely missing a head-on as they roar
into a rail-yard traversing the waterfront. BRILL's at
his best, putting distance between himself and the cops
at every turn.

Finally, it looks as if they've made it as they race
down an alleyway, only to realize it's a dead-end.

BRILL slams into reverse. They screech backward, tires
smoking.

Too late. The squad car rips into the alleyway, boxing
them in.

BRILL hits the brakes. He looks back at the dead-end
and sees an empty flat-bed trailer with a ramp. BRILL
gives it everything. If they can get enough speed and
hit the ramp right, maybe they can clear the obstructing
wall.

		BRILL
	Feeling lucky?

		DEAN
	Not particularly, no.

They hit the ramp full speed. The front end bottoms at
the Taurus bounces skyward. Tires clip the wall as the
car flips and smashes into a parked rail-car filled
with coal.

They aren't going anywhere.

Back in the alley, the squad car skids to a stop.

A ROOKIE climbs from his car, leaps the wall, draws his
gun and nears...

Inside the Taurus, the windows are shattered. Steam
hisses, gasoline drips and coal is everywhere.

DEAN shimmies out through a broken side window. He
barely gets to his feet as he stumbles 20 yards or so.

His foot accidentally dislodges a large pile of coal,
which buries him up to his waist and immobilizes him.

		DEAN
	Shit.
		(to BRILL)
	I'm stuck. Help me out.

He looks back to see that BRILL is hanging out the
driver's side, bleeding badly and covered in gas.

		COP
		(on waist radio)
	One-Lincoln-Nine, suspects TA'd
	into a coal car at the Fullbright
	rail-yards. Requesting back-up,
	fire and ambulance.

An unmarked car with red-flashers races up the rail-
yard and stops. The ROOKIE turns as JONES and KRUG hop out.

		JONES
		(flashing ID)
	FBI. What do you got?

		COP
	Two murder suspects. One's wounded,
	the other's maybe dead.

		JONES
	Thank you.

KRUG draws his silenced pistol and matter of factly
shoots the COP dead.

		JONES
		(to KRUG)
	Check inside.

DEAN is watching this all unseen, helplessly trying to
dig himself out of the coal.

KRUG inspects the Taurus interior for anything of
interest. JONES scans the area.

		KRUG
		(to BRILL as he searches.)
	I hate doin' cops, I really do. You
	I won't mind. Didn't mind that
	Rachel Banks. Didn't mind doin' her
	one bit.
		(seeing DEAN's shoe)
	Your lawyer friend buried over there?

BRILL can only gurgle blood. JONES pops the Taurus's
trunk had looks inside.

KRUG digs quickly through the coal pile, searching for
Dean. Then BRILL sees him--

BRILL's POV: DEAN down off the side of the coal-car,
lodged in the coal pile. He's safe, but not once KRUG
discovers he's not in the car.

BRILL pushes in the cigarette lighter.

JONES dumps everything from the Taurus into the
unmarked car. SIRENS suddenly fade in.

KRUG digs faster, looking for DEAN, as JONES approaches
with his pistol, clambering around for BRILL.

		KRUG
	Fuck him, he's dead in two minutes.
	Find Dean.

JONES starts to back out, just as the Taurus's
cigarette lighter pops out. BRILL grabs it.

KRUG eyes the glowing lighter. Then he eyes BRILL.

Shit.

BRILL ignites the gas. WA-WOOMFF!! A fireball explodes,
consuming all - the car, BRILL, KRUG. JONES is blown
off his feet from the concussion.

		JONES
		(scrambling away)
	Fuck--

JONES wipes prints off his pistol and silencer and
tosses it into the flames as the police cars approach.

DEAN watches from the shadows as flames incinerate
everything.

		MARSHAL (V.O.)
	I just came from my office at
	Langley. Senator Albert called me
	there.

EXT. WASHINGTON D.C. RESTAURANT TERRACE - DAY

MARSHAL and SHAFFER dine with REYNOLDS at a restaurant
overlooking the Potomac.

		SHAFFER
	I got the same call at the Bureau.
	He's upset.

		REYNOLDS
	About what?

		MARSHAL
	About what? Do I look stupid?

		REYNOLDS
	Ken--

		MARSHAL
	Does Shaffer look stupid to you?

		SHAFFER
	We're not stupid, Reynolds.

		MARSHAL
	The fuck do you have goin' on with
	Sam Albert?

		SHAFFER
	This guy's carrying the flag for
	the damn terrorism bill. You think
	this is the best time to piss him off?

		MARSHAL
	You have any idea what kind of
	position this--

		SHAFFER
	He's carrying the damn flag.

		REYNOLDS
	We're not doing anything with Sam
	Albert.

		MARSHAL
	He thinks we're stupid.

		SHAFFER
	He found an NSA SAT tracker on his
	motor home today.

		REYNOLDS
	It's not ours.

		MARSHAL
	It was pulsing on your SAT frequencies.

		SHAFFER
	I don't know what's going on, but
	if you people have tripped over
	your own asshole again, you're not
	gonna get any help from us. It's
	ending at your doorstep.

		HICKS (V.O.)
	Brill's dead.

INT. TOWN CAR - DAY

REYNOLDS rides in the back of the car, a cellular to
his ear.

		REYNOLDS
	What about--

		HICKS (O.S.)
	We don't know.

		REYNOLDS
	Explain that.

INTERCUT WITH:

INT. TECH ROOM - CONTINUOUS

The room is crammed with people as HICKS talks over the
phone.

		HICKS
	Jones had to flee the scene before
	we could locate the second body.

		REYNOLDS
	What about the tape?

		HICKS
	We think it was on Brill. If it was,
	it's destroyed now.

		REYNOLDS
	And if it wasn't?

ORGAN MUSIC can be heard as REYNOLDS snaps his phone shut.

		PRIEST (O.S.)
	Peace be with you.

EXT. SAINT PAUL'S CHURCH - DAY

Establishing. A beautiful church in an expensive
neighborhood.

		CHORUS OF PARISHIONERS (O.S.)
	And also with you.

INT. CHURCH - CONTINUOUS

A crowded Catholic mass. The PRIEST delivers a sermon
from an altar decorated with Christmas candles and
evergreen.

		PRIEST
	The Lord said: I leave you peace,
	my peace I leave you. Let us now,
	in the spirit of these holidays,
	turn to our neighbors and offer
	them a sign of peace.

REYNOLDS stands in a pew beside his TWO DAUGHTERS and
his WIFE. He turns to those immediately around him,
shaking their hands.

		REYNOLDS
	Peace be with you...Peace be with you.

A disguised DEAN takes REYNOLDS hand and shakes it...


		DEAN
	Merry Christmas. It's me.

		REYNOLDS
	Do I know you?

		DEAN
	I'm Robert Dean. Within twelve
	hours, you're gonna be in jail.
	Peace be with you.

REYNOLDS is dumbstruck...

		PRIEST
	Let us now offer up thanks to the
	Lord our God in the words our
	Father gave us.

		CONGREGATION
	Our Father, who art in Heaven,
	hallow'd be thy name--

		STACY (V.O.)
	Robert, is it safe to be talking on
	the phone like this?

INT. A BEDROOM - NIGHT

DEAN sits on a bed while talking into a modified
cellular computer. The screen shows his current call
signal re-routing between relay stations.

		DEAN
		(into phone)
	I've re-routed the call. They can't
	trace it.

INTERCUT WITH:

INT. DEAN'S HOUSE/BEDROOM - CONTINUOUS

		STACY
		(into phone)
	Are you sure you're safe?

		DEAN
		(into phone)
	Yeah.

EXT. WASHINGTON D.C. - CONTINUOUS

CLOSE ON A SMALL GRAY CONE-SHAPED MICROWAVE ANTENNA

		STACY (O.S.)
	They're saying you killed that
	policeman.

		DEAN (O.S.)
	That's gonna end tonight.

EXT. EXPRESSWAY - CONTINUOUS

CLOSE ON A MICROWAVE TOWER WITH NINE GRAY CONES
pointing nine directions. The intercepted phone signals
being relayed.

		STACY (O.S.)
	Where are you?

		DEAN (O.S.)
	I can't tell you that.

EXT. KENT ISLAND - CONTINUOUS

Re-establishing. A concrete building rising from the woods.

		STACY (O.S.)
	Can you tell me anything?

INT. CEMENT BUILDING - CONTINUOUS

CLOSE ON COMPUTER SCREENS showing hundreds of phone
numbers scrolling by. A massive vacume cleaner of every
cellular call being made in the state of Maryland. The
computer scans for trigger numbers or words.

		DEAN (O.S.)
	I can tell you this: That anti-
	terrorism bill you were so worked
	up about? I don't think it's gonna
	pass.

A phone number locks on the screen--

		TECHNICIAN
	Got it!

INT. REYNOLDS BEDROOM - CONTINUOUS

The phone on the nightstand begins to RING. REYNOLDS
wakes as his wife rolls to the other side of the bed.
He grabs his scrambler phone and goes into--

INT. BATHROOM - CONTINUOUS

REYNOLDS closes the door and waits as scrambled lines
connect. Finally, a confirming tone.

		REYNOLDS
	Yeah.

INTERCUT WITH:

INT. VAN - CONTINUOUS

HICKS is on the phone.

		HICKS
	Found him. Kent Island nailed the
	call five minutes ago. He's stationary.

		REYNOLDS
	Do you have visual?

		HICKS
	Not yet. He's near "M" and 34th.
	I've got an ELSUR unit on the scene
	now. A residential building. Twelve
	units.

		REYNOLDS
	What's your ETA?

		HICKS
	Three minutes. We're going in light.
	Myself and two others. Everyone
	else is held back in reserve.

		REYNOLDS
	He walked right up to me in church.
	At the holiest time of the wear. He
	approached me in a sanctified place.
		(beat)
	Kill him now.

EXT. A VICTORIAN APARTMENT BUILDING - NIGHT

Establishing. Peaceful street, quaint apartments. THREE
MEN stroll to the entrance of a well-maintained
building. One jimmies the lock and a moment later
they're in.

INT. LOBBY - CONTINUOUS

HICKS, JONES and DAVIS prepare. All have miniature
earphones. DAVIS checks his silenced pistol. HICKS
activates a frequency locator. The needle snaps on. He
looks at DAVIS and JONES.

They're ready.

All hand signals, no words, as the trio ascend the
staircase.

One flight, two. Then HICKS stops. The needle says
they're close.

HICKS motions. Their target's on two. They move down
the hall - silent except for a creaking floor and a TV
SHOW drifting from an apartment.  Someone's up at this
hour.

They move on. HICKS watches the needle as it moves. He
motions DAVIS and JONES to a door. JONES puts a
reverse-viewer against the peep-hole.

JONES's POV: A view of an entryway and living room. A
light bleeds from an O.S. source. Beyond that there's
no sign of life.

HICKS puts a contact-mic against the door and listens
to FAINT CONVERSATION somewhere inside, possibly the
phone call. HICKS nods to JONES who quickly picks the
lock while DAVIS eyes the hall.

After a nervous moment, the door opens and HICKS, JONES
and DAVIS enter.

INT. THE APARTMENT - CONTINUOUS

They spread out, searching the well-decorated condo for
the target.

They near the room with light. Using a mini-mirror,
HICKS looks around the bend to see--

A BEDROOM. There's a briefcase on the bed.

They enter.

From the bathroom they hear sounds of RUNNING WATER.
They slowly approach. Wood again CREAKS beneath them.

DEAN's VOICE is heard through the locked door.

HICKS signals "on three".

He counts, and they SMASH the door open to see--

--a cellular phone taped to a Baby-Monitor. DEAN's
nowhere in sight.

		HICKS
	The fuck is this?

INT. POLICE STATION/DISPATCH AREA - NIGHT

Spinning banks of reporters manned by POLICE DISPATCHERS.
We move to one desk where a phone rings.

An LED immediately displays the caller's name; KRUGER,
JACK, along with his social-security number and date of
birth.

		DISPATCHER
	Nine-one-one emergency.

		OLD MAN'S VOICE (O.S.)
	My name's Jack Kreuger, I'm at 1102
	Grambling. I just saw three guys
	break into the condo next door. It
	looked to me like they had guns.

INT. VICTORIAN BUILDING'S BASEMENT - CONTINUOUS

DEAN has the phone circuit box open and is plugged in
with a phone-line. Over the phone's mouthpiece, he
holds an electronic Voice-Mask which alters his voice
into an old man's.

		DISPATCHER (O.S.)
	We'll send a unit over there now.
	If it's safe, sir, we'd like you to
	stay by your phone.

		DEAN
	Yeah, I think I'll stay where I am.

INT. SQUAD CAR - NIGHT

		DISPATCHER (O.S.)
		(radio effect)
	Any available unit. Armed 549 in
	progress.

INT. VAN - CONTINUOUS

Three TECHNICIANS overhear the police radio call.

		DISPATCHER (O.S.)
	Three suspects now inside. 1102
	Grambling, apartment 302.

		TECHNICIAN
	Shit.
		(into radio)
	201 to First Team. Pull out. We got
	the cops.

INT. APARTMENT - CONTINUOUS

HICKS spins and heads for the door. DAVIS hits it first.
He grabs the doorknob and pulls--

--and the knob rips from the door, trailing small wires.

		DAVIS
	Fuck me!

		JONES
	What'd you do?

		DAVIS
	It came off in my hand!

EXT. STREET - CONTINUOUS

TWO SQUAD CARS come rolling up and FOUR COPS get out
and head into the building.

INT. THE APARTMENT

JONES is trying to pry the door open with his fingers.
No use.

		TECHNICIAN
		(over radio)
	Get outa there, guys!

While JONES continues on the door, DAVIS runs to the
window.

Throughout this, HICKS will stand in the middle of the
room and, simply, oddly, stare at the mantle over the
fireplace.

		DAVIS
	Goddamit!

HICKS smiles...and now he starts laughing a little...

		JONES
	What's so fuckin' funny?

HICKS motions to a framed picture over the fireplace.

		HICKS
	It's over. We've been fucked with
	our pants on.

The framed picture is of Senator SAM ALBERT and CHRISTA
HAWKINS.

		HICKS (CONT'D)
	We broke into her condo.

DOOR WOOD EXPLODES inward. The TWO COPS roll in
crouched positions, weapons drawn.

		COP #1
	POLICE! FREEZE!

HICKS doesn't move, DAVIS freezes like a deer in
headlights, JONES stares with cold, dead eyes.

		COP #2
	DROP THE WEAPONS! NOW!

Two more COPS arrive. JONES and DAVIS drop their guns.

		COP #1
	ON THE GROUND! NOW! FACE THE FLOOR!

They do so. COPS THREE and FOUR go room to room making
sure no one else is lurking. In the bedroom, they find
the briefcase. Inside the briefcase--

--listening bugs, installation equipment and
compromising photos of the Senator with Christa.

		CHRISTA (O.S.)
	Oh my God! What's going on?!

Back in the living room, CHRISTA has walked through the
broken-in apartment door to see JONES, HICKS and DAVIS
lying on the floor at gun point.

		COP #2
	Ma'am, is this your apartment?

		CHRISTA
	What happened?!

		COP #1
	Would you step out in the hallway
	for a moment, ma'am.

		CHRISTA
	Oh God.

		COP #2
	Please. We'll be right with you.

CHRISTA backs slowly out of the apartment and into--

INT. HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS

CHRISTA holds her hand over her mouth and is shaking. A
VOICE comes from an alcove...

		VOICE (O.S.)
	Christa?

She turns. DEAN steps out from the alcove.

		DEAN (CONT'D)
	You got a second?

		CHRISTA
	Who are you?

		DEAN
	My name's Robert Dean.

EXT. RESIDENTIAL STREET IN CHEVY CHASE - NIGHT

An up-scale neighborhood. Two inexpensive cars that
don't seem to belong there sit in front of a large home.

INT. SENATOR ALBERT'S PRIVATE STUDY - CONTINUOUS

DEAN sits with a drink in his hand. Across from him are
CHRISTA and PATRICK.

They sit in uncomfortable silence for a moment before
SENATOR ALBERT enters in bathrobe and pajamas.

		ALBERT
	I understand we have a problem.

		PATRICK
	Senator--

		CHRISTA
	Senator, there were some things I
	couldn't tell you over the phone.

		ALBERT
	What kinds of things?

		PATRICK
	Mr. Dean has a video tape from the
	hotel room in Boston.

		ALBERT
		(pause)
	I see.

		DEAN
	It's actually DH-1 Digitech
	Pinpoint scanning with a frequency
	modulator.

		ALBERT
	I don't know what that means.

		DEAN
	Me neither, but the upshot is I've
	got color live-action footage of
	you and Ms Hawkins and it doesn't
	look good.

		ALBERT
	So...how much money do you want in
	exchange for not ruining my life?

		DEAN
	I don't want any money. And believe
	me, I have no interest in ruining
	your life. I'm not interested in
	this tape.

		ALBERT
	You're not.

		PATRICK
	Then what do you want from the Senator?

		DEAN
	I want him to look at a different
	tape. People have been killed.
	Lives have been ruined.
		(DEAN takes the computer
		chip from his pocket)
	Senator, I want you to look at this.
	And I want you to bring the fury of
	God himself upon this man.

DEAN tosses the chip to ALBERT.

INT. REYNOLDS BEDROOM - NIGHT

REYNOLDS is asleep when the PHONE wakes him up. Once
again, he reaches for his scrambled phone heads into
the bathroom.

After waiting for the signal that the line's clear...

		REYNOLDS
	Yeah.

		TECHNICIAN (O.S.)
	Sir, we've just intercepted an FBI
	communication.

		REYNOLDS
		(into phone)
	Well...what is it?

		TECHNICIAN (O.S.)
	Well, sir, it seems there's a
	warrant out on--

The DOORBELL rings. REYNOLDS is alarmed.

Now there's BANGING at the door and DOORBELL RINGS again.

		REYNOLDS WIFE (O.S.)
		(from the bedroom)
	Who is that, dear?

REYNOLDS snaps the phone shut and goes downstairs to
the door.

When he opens the door he sees TWO FBI AGENTS with
their ID's flapped open and six uniformed POLICEMEN
backing them up.

		FBI AGENT
	John Reynolds?

		REYNOLDS
	What the hell--

		FBI AGENT
	You're under arrest. You have the
	right to remain silent. Anything
	you say--

		REYNOLDS WIFE (O.S.)
		(from upstairs)
	Honey...?

INT. DEAN'S STREET - MORNING

A PAPERBOY tosses a newspaper at the Dean's door.

		SENATOR ALBERT (O.S.)
	Privacy and the right to privacy is
	an inalienable right.

INT. DEAN'S KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS

Stacy has C-SPAN on the TV while she makes breakfast
for ERIC. SENATOR ALBERT is addressing the SENATE.

		ERIC
	These guys are always making speeches.

		STACY
	It's an important speech, Eric.
	There's gonna be a vote today.

		SENATOR ALBERT
		(on TV)
	Today we face a threat to that
	creed. Certain individuals in our
	intelligence community believe
	they're entitled to examine lives
	in minute detail, and claim to do
	it in the name of the common good.

		ERIC
	If they're voting today, hasn't
	everyone pretty much made up their
	minds.

		STACY
	Actually, this man appears to have
	changed his mind dramatically.

		ERIC
	Why?

		VOICE (O.S.)
	He saw the light, my son.

ERIC and STACY whip around--

		ERIC
	Dad!

STACY and ERIC run to DEAN...

		STACY
	Is it over?

		DEAN
	It's over.

		ERIC
	How long can you stay?

		DEAN
	I'm not goin' anywhere, Eric. I
	live here.

ERIC and DEAN hug.

		STACY
	Get ready for school, you're gonna
	be late.

		ERIC
	Is it okay to use the phone now?

		DEAN
	It's okay to use the phone.

		ERIC
	Alright!

		DEAN
	No "900" numbers.

But ERIC has disappeared up the stairs...

		STACY
	It's really over?

		DEAN
	Albert's gonna get me my job back.

		STACY
		(pause)
	I'm sorry about Rachel.

		DEAN
	Yeah.
		(beat)
	I wish you could've met...

		STACY
	Who?

		DEAN
	A friend of mine. I don't know his
	real name. He's dead now.

		STACY
	You did good.

STACY points to the TV and DEAN watches for a moment...

		ALBERT
		(on TV)
	I've lived through the dark ages of
	Hoover's Watch-List and McCarthy's
	Witch Hunts - men who used moral
	crusades, fired by fear, to lay
	waste to our freedoms.

		STACY
	C'mon upstairs. I've got a
	Christmas present from Harrison's I
	want to show you.

DEAN arrives as STACY takes him by the arm. They head
upstairs as ALBERT continues on...

		ALBERT
		(on TV)
	Our intelligence communities
	presently monitor our phones,
	computers, financial transactions,
	medical histories...all this and
	more. Some of you may say, "Fine.
	I'm not a criminal and I have
	nothing to hide." Well God forbid
	we ever edge to tyranny. God forbid
	George Orwell's version of America
	becomes a reality. We are that close.

ALBERT's speech continues as we...

ROLL END CREDITS.

FADE TO BLACK.