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Predator (1987)

by Jim Thomas and John Thomas.
Final script, January 30, 1987.

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1     EXT. OUTER SPACE				      1

The infinite blackness punctuated by a billion stars.
As we slowly DESCEND through the varied shades of blue
of the Earth's atmosphere, we HEAR the first strains of
a haunting, Central American FLUTE, joined by a swelling
background of JUNGLE SOUNDS.  We descend further,
through a lush JUNGLE CANOPY, backlit by a setting sun.



Through a collage of shimmering HEAT-WAVES, a dark,
OTHER-WORLDLY OBJECT drops INTO VIEW, backlit by the
fiery, ORANGE-RED sphere of a setting tropical SUN,
heading slowly towards us, floating, as if suspended by
the rising heat of the jungle.

Continuing to approach, the shimmering object resolves
into a MILITARY ASSAULT HELICOPTER, its rotors strobing
in the fading sunlight.  Drawing closer, the SOUND of
powerful TURBINES, throbbing in the heavy air, becomes
dominant, overpowering.

Guided by COLORED SMOKE and LANDING LIGHTS, the chopper
looms hard INTO VIEW, pitching forward and settling to
the ground, kicking up a maelstrom of dust and vegetation


Where a MAN wearing a military UNIFORM watches through
the large open windows the helicopter as it continues
to approach.  Before the skids have even touched down he
SEES the first of the MEN, dressed in CIVILIAN CLOTHES
but carrying full COMBAT GEAR, alight gracefully from
the chopper, double-timing in close order to one side,
the orders SHOUTED by one man lost in the ROAR of the

The man turns away from the window, to a FIGURE, hidden     *
in the shadows.

			MAN				*
	He's here.

He turns back, lowering a BAMBOO SHADE, obscuring the       *



2-B   EXT. HELICOPTER PAD - NIGHT			    2-B  *

On adjoining PADS, two other HELICOPTERS are VISIBLE; in
the b.g. can be SEEN several concrete and THATCHWORK
BUILDINGS, a secret command post disguised as a COASTAL

The post in a flurry of activity, AMERICAN ADVISORS
shouting directions to dozens of LATIN AMERICAN SOLDIERS
who stand by to assist the landing helicopter and to
load EQUIPMENT into the other choppers.

Inside the chopper, one man remains, stretched out against  *
the bulkhead, as if asleep.  He stirs, sits up, lighting    *
up a CIGAR.  With fatigue showing in his motion, he leans   *
forward, descending to the ground.			  *

A JEEP pulls to stop, the man swinging casually into the    *
front seat, tossing his GEAR into the rear.  With a	*
lurch the jeep heads out towards the command post.	 *

In the doorway TWO MEN solemnly watch as the jeep
approaches.  Reaching the command post the man alights
from the jeep, heading towards the two men.

Into the pool of light cast by the fixture above the
door steps MAJOR ALAN SCHAEFER, the team leader, 38, an
intelligent and intense man.  He informally salutes,
GENERAL H.L. PHILIPS, 55, hardened, close-cropped graying
hair, his nameplate and insignia identifying him as a
member of an elite commando unit in the U.S. Army.  He
clasps Schaefer warmly on the shoulder.

		(with affection)
	You're looking well, Dutch.

	It's been a long time, General.

They walk up the stairs, entering the palapa, leaving
the other man on guard.

3     INT. PALAPA - DAY				     3

Large, two room concrete floor, thatched walls and roof.
Behind a partially drawn curtain in the kitchen, a naked
lightbulb hung from the rafters illuminates a bank of
PHOTOGRAPHS.  Otherwise the rooms are primitive and
stand out in stark contrast to this high-tech invasion.

Philips and Schaefer enter the room.




3     CONTINUED						 3

		(growing serious)
	We've got a real problem here,
	something right up your alley.

They cross to the center of the room to a folding table,
covered with a large TOPOGRAPHICAL MAP of the Central
American highland jungle.  Philips leans over the table,
circling a set of COORDINATES and a MARK on the open

	Eighteen hours ago I was
	informed that one of our
	choppers, transporting three
	presidential cabinet members
	from this charming little
	country, was shot down...
		(point to
		the circled
	...The pilots radioed from the
	ground that they were all
	alive.  Their position was
	fixed by the transponder
	beacon onboard the chopper.

Schaefer studies the map.  He looks up at Philips.

	That's over the border,

		(dead serious)
	That's the problem.  Apparently
	they strayed off course.
	We're certain they've been
	captured by the guerrillas.

Schaefer looks up, puffing lightly on the cigar.

	What have you got in mind,




3     CONTINUED:  (2)					3

	We figure we've got less than
	twenty-four hours to catch
	up with them.  After that,
	there's not much hope.  We
	want a rescue operation
	mounted tonight.  That doesn't
	give you much time.

Another puff on the cigar.

	What else it new?  When do
	we leave?

Philips looks at his watch.

	You lift off in three hours.
	There's one other thing.

	What's that, General?

	Someone else will be going
	in with you.

Schaefer stubbs out his cigar in an ashtray.

	You know we don't work with
	outsiders, General.

	Who said anything about
	outsiders, Dutch?

Schaefer turns, SEEING the outline of a figure standing
in the doorway of the communications room, holding a
sheaf of PAPERS.

Wearing pressed fatigues, DILLON, mid-thirties, black,
walks into the room.

Although as rugged looking as the others, his bearing
and grooming indicate he's been away from the business
of soldiering for sometime.  His quick intelligent eyes
reveal his current profession.




3     CONTINUED:  (3)					3

	Last time we danced, it was
	Lieutenant, Schaefer.

A grin breaks out across Schaefer's face.

	Dillon, you son of a bitch.

The two men step forward and simultaneous swing from
the hip as it to land a punch...but their hands SLAP
together in a gesture of friendship, their forearms
bulging, testing each other's strength.

	How you been, Dutch?

They continue the contest, Schaefer has the edge, forcing
Dillon's arm slowly downward.

	You've been pushing too many
	Pencils, Dillon.  Had enough?

	No way, old buddy.

	You never did know when to

They look into each other's faces, each remembering
something from the past.  A moment's hesitation and they
quit the contest.  They laugh, Dillon slapping Schaefer
on the shoulder.

	That piece of work you guys
	pulled off at the Berlin
	embassy last week was really
	something.  Blew the entry
	points on three floors and
	neutralized the opposition
	in eight seconds flat.

	Like the old days, Dillon.




3     CONTINUED:  (4)					3

	Also heard that you passed
	on that little job in Libya.

Schaefer looks at Dillon, quietly considering him.

	Wasn't my style.  We're a
	rescue unit, not assassins.
	This must be good.  Big shot
	from the CIA, leaves his desk
	to come back to the bush.
	What's so important?

	Those cabinet members are
	very important to our scope
	of operations in this part
	of the world.  They're about
	to get squeezed.  We can't
	let that happen.  I needed
	someone who could get the job
	done, quick and
	screw-ups.  I needed the best.
	The best.  So, I pulled a few
	strings at the State
	Department...and here we are.

	Go on.

Dillon goes to the map.

	The set-up is simple, Dutch.
	One day job.  We pick up their
	trail at the chopper, run 'em
	down, grab the hostages and
	bounce back across the
	border before anyone knows
	we were there.  You've done
	it a hundred times.  Nothing
	out of the ordinary.

Schaefer considers this.




3     CONTINUED:  (5)					3

	And nothing we can't handle

Philips breaks in.

	I'm afraid those are your
	orders, Major.  Once you
	reach your objective, Dillon
	will evaluate the situation
	and take charge.

Schaefer looks from Philips to Dillon.  He still doesn't
like it.

	Not to worry, Dutch.  I
	haven't lost my edge.  They've
	got a head start on us in
	some real tough country,
	otherwise, believe me, it's
	a piece of cake.

	Gentlemen, we're losing time.
		(to Schaefer)
	You'd better get your men
	Good luck, Major.


Burst over the top of a ridge.  Rising up in silhouette
they perform a radical left bank turn and descend
rapidly into an adjoining valley, racing over the
jungle at treetop level.

As the helicopters perform dizzying, high-speed
maneuvers through the winding canyon, the PILOT'S
VOICES can be HEARD, coordinating their operations.

		(voice over)
	Redbird Two, Two.  Bearing
	south, three, five, zero, one
	o'ckock on the saddle ridge.




4     CONTINUED:						4

		(voice over)
	Roger, Blue Leader.  Three,
	five, zero, on your move.

The helicopters rise in perfect coordination over
another ridge and bank sharply into the next valley,
leveling out as they go.

5     INT. HELICOPTER - NIGHT			        5

Illuminated by the eerie red glow of NIGHT LIGHTS, are
SEVEN MEN, dressed in jungle camouflage, soft hats and
camouflage face-makeup.  They wear no identity badges
or insignias.  The man are checking their WEAPONS,
making last minute adjustments to their GEAR.

The compartment reverberates with the NOISE of the
THUMPING ROTORS and the ROAR of air from the open

BLAIN, weapons and ordinance specialist, a frightening
bull of a man, a 240 pound killer, removes from his
shirtpocket a think PLUG OF TOBACCO.  He looks across

MAC, a huge bear of a man, black, holding am M-60
MACHINE GUN.  Blain holds out the tobacco to Mac who
refuses with a gentle shake of the head, a knowing
smile, he knows what's coming.

Holding the plug between his teeth Blain yanks free
from his shoulder scabbard a wicked, ten inch COMBAT
KNIFE.  Placing the razor sharp blade next to his lips
he slices through the plug as if it were butter.  He
chews throughtfully.

Seated by the open doorway is RAMIREZ, a slight,
angular man, an East L.A. streetwise Chicano.

Adding a final piece of camouflage TAPE to his pack
HARNESS, he looks up and smiles, faking a throw and
the bulleting the tape to:

HAWKINS, the radioman and medic, Irish, street-tough,
reading a rolled-up magazine, as if he were a rush hour
commuter.  He snags the tape with an instinctual snap


REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/17/86			   9
5     CONTINUED:						5

of the wrist, continuing to read for a moment before
looking up, grinning at Ramirez, his boyish, eager
face belying the rugged professional beneath.  He
turns his gaze to the man next to him:

BILLY, the Kit Carson Scout, an American Indian, proud,
stoic, a man of quiet strength and simplicity,
carefully replacing the FIRING MECHANISM of his M-203,
working its action several times.  He looks up with a
smile at Hawkins.

	Hey, Billy, how many marines
	does it take to eat a squirrel?

Billy looks back, shaking his head, uncomprehending.

	Two.  One to eat it and one
	to watch for cars.

Hawkins laughs heartily at his joke.

6     EXT. JUNGLE - NIGHT				   6

Clearing another ridge, the helicopters plunge into a
steep descent, turning quickly into a DEEP-WALLED
CANYON, the force of the turn accentuated by the
changing PITCH of the screaming turbines and the
biting of rotors into the air.

7     INT. HELICOPTER - NIGHT			        7

The men, suspended in RESTRAINING HARNESSES from the
bulkheads, lean forward, nearly upside down in response
to the radical maneuver, handling the situation with

Blain holds out the tobacco to Ramirez, who swats at
the offending object as if it were alive.

	Get that stinkin' thing out
	of my face, Blain!



REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/29/86			  10

7     CONTINUED:						7

Grinning, Blain proffers the plug to each man, each one
refusing; they've done it a thousand times.  It's an old
gag but they obviously care for the man in a big way.

	...bunch of slack-jawed
	faggots around here...
		(holds up plug)
	...this stuff will put hair
	...make you a God-damned
	sexual ty-ran-toe-sore-ass...
	just like me.

This brings a chorus of HOOTS and SHOUTS from the others.

The helicopter makes another radical turn.

Schaefer and Dillon, seated near the cockpit, communicate
through HEADSETS, also linked to the pilot.  They

		(pointing to
		the map)
	Our rendezvous points and
	radio freqs. are indicated
	and fixed.  AWACS contact on
	four hour intervals.

	Who's our back-up on this?

	No such thing, old buddy.
	It's a one way ticket.
	Once we cross that border,
	we're on our own.

	This gets better by the



8     INT. COCKPIT - NIGHT				  8

The PILOT and CO-PILOT are surrounded by an array of
dimly lit GAUGES and SWITCHES.  Before the Co-Pilot is

	...roger Bird Two, Two.
	Reconfirm insertion at Tango,
	Charlie, Delta One, zero,
	niner on the grid at zero,
	two, two, mark four by zero.

		(voice over)
	Two, Two, leader.  Roger your
	insert co-ord.  Over.

	Leader to Bird Two Two.  I
	bear two minutes to Landing

The Pilot throws a SWITCH on the panel before him

9     INT. HELICOPTER - NIGHT			        9

A BLUE LIGHT appears on the forward bulkhead.  Schaefer
is speaking over a RADIO TELEPHONE.  The Co-Pilot turns
and hands him a clipboard.  Schaefer reads, notes his
approval and hands it back.

10     EXT. HELICOPTER - NIGHT			       10

Flares up into position over the jungle and hovers, as
the SUPPORT HELICOPTER holds in a protective position

11     INT. HELICOPTER - NIGHT			       11

Dillon seems comfortable with the men, showing Ramirez
a battered CIGARETTE LIGHTER from a famed commando
unit from the past.

But his ingratiating demeanor is not impressing Mac, who
regards Dillon with the cold suspicion reserved for an
outsider.  Mac looks up at Blain, his eyes narrowing.

Blain's massive jaws roll as he masticates the chew.
He pauses, eyes moving downward, spotting his target.




11     CONTINUED:					    11

He hocks a thick, vile stream of TOBACCO JUICE directly
between Dillon's legs and onto the floor, a gelatinous
skein lacing across the toe of one boot.  Dillon looks
up, his face goes cold and menacing.

	Man, that's a real bad habit
	you've got.

Dillon turns back to Ramirez, ignoring Mac and Blain,
who continues to stare at him.  Mac looks across at
Blain, wide grins breaking across their huge faces.
Cradled in Blain's arms, as if it were a part of his
body, is a large, CANVAS-COVERED BUNDLE.  Blain looks
down at his bundle, almost affectionately.

The PILOT's VOICE breaks in over Schaefer's headset.

		(voice over)
	LZ comin' up in 30 seconds.
	Stand by the rappel lines.

Looking up, Schaefer gives a hand signal to the nearest
man who nods and in return,passes the signal down the

Ramirez and Blain pick up heavy, METAL CONICAL DEVICES,
attached to canvas bags filled with rope.

12     EXT. HELICOPTER - NIGHT			       12

From the open doors the RAPPELLING LINES hurtle into
space, CRASHING through the double canopy of the trees
and to the jungle floor below.

13     INT. HELICOPTER - NIGHT			       13    *

The blue light changes to GREEN.  Schaefer nods.
RAPPELLING DEVICES SNAP into place.  Gloved hands grab
onto rope.  Combat boots move into position.

		(shouting to
	You don't know how much I
	missed this, Dutch!!!  Once
	you get this in your blood,
	you never get it out!!!




13     CONTINUED:					    13

	You never were all that
	smart...let's go!!!

Schaefer signals.  Men leap from the chopper.

14     EXT. JUNGLE - NIGHT				  14

The man crash through the trees and are swallowed up by
the darkness below.  The helicopters depart, THUMPING
their way into the night.


15     EXT. MOUNTAIN RIDGE - DAY (DAWN)		      15

A light shower passes through the trees.  The sky
clears, REVEALING a lush and exotic foliage.  Birds
are beginning to SING but otherwise, all is SILENT.

The dense growth seems impenetrable, but from a solid
wall of undergrowth, a HAND appears and signals in a
downward motion.

As if by magic, the assault team materializes, quietly,
cautiously.  Schaefer makes another gesture and the team
moves forward in perfect harmony in POINT-LOCK step,
taking their cue from Ramirez, the pointman.  Schaefer,
highly focused and alert to every sound and movement,
follows Ramirez, as if organically connected.

16     EXT. JUNGLE HILLSIDE - DAY			    16

Descending the steep mountain slope, the team encounters
an even denser growth of jungle, at times moving by
instinct, as they are often visually separated.  At one
point, Schaefer checks his COMPASS, flashing some hand
signals to Ramirez, indicating a new direction.  Ramirez
nods and moves on, Schaefer signaling to the rest of the

17     EXT. JUNGLE CLEARING - DAY			    17

Blain, in a defensive position, sweeps the jungle slowly
with his MP-5.  He steps back and turns, checking,
revealing in the b.g. the WRECKAGE OF A U.S. ARMY UH-1H
HELICOPTER, hanging upside down, twenty feet above the
ground, entangled in vines in the heavy capony, badly
damaged, rotors bent, its tail section blown away.



REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/21/86			  14
17     CONTINUED:					    17

A GRAPPLING HOOK is hurled from the ground, CLATTERING
into the cargo hold, hooking the edge of the airframe.

18     INT. HELICOPTER - DAY				18

Ramirez moves cautiously, searching for trip wires,
using his knife to check the edges of the seats and
door frames.  Grimly he glances at the TWO BODIES
slumped over the controls and then exits, snapping
into and rappelling down the rope to the ground.

He joins Schaefer standing in the f.g.  They look
up, watching as Dillon moves through the cockpit,
searching through pockets and compartments.  Schaefer
turns his back to the helicopter.

	The pilots have each got one
	round in the head.  And whoever
	hit it stripped the shit out of it.

Schaefer studies the clearing, eyes always moving, wary.
He turns back, looking at the chopper.

	Took 'em out with a heat seeker.

	There's something else, Major...


	I don't think that was any ordinary
	army taxi...

Schaefer looks at him quizically.

	...looks more like a surveillance
	bird to me.

Dillon rappells down the line and approaches.

	Have you picked up their trail yet?

Schaefer taps Ramirez on the shoulder and he moves
away.  Schaefer turns to Dillon:



REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/21/86			  15
	Billy's on it.
		(indicates chopper)
	Heat seeker.  Pretty sophisticated
	for half-asses mountain boys.

	They're getting better equipped
	every day.

Bill approaches from the b.g.

	Major, looks like there were ten,
	maybe twelve guerrillas.  Looks
	like they took some prisoners
	from the chopper.
	Then a different set of track,
	over there.

	What do you mean?

	Six others, U.S. issue jungle
	boots.  They came in from the
	north, then followed the guerrillas.

Schaefer turns to Dillon.

	Mean anything to you?

	Probably another rebel patrol.
	They operate in here all the time.

Schaefer is obviously concerned about this.  He
turns to Billy.

	Get ahead, see what you can find.
		(to Ramirez)
	Slow and easy.



REVISED - "HUNTER" - 1/27/86			  16

18     CONTINUED:  (2)				      18

			SCHAEFER (Contd.)
		(to Dillon)
	We don't want any accidents.

Billy takes up the trail, disappearing in to the jungle.
Ramirez signals, the team moves out.

19     EXT. JUNGLE - DAY				    19

As Billy reconnoiters, Ramirez looks back and gives a       *

Schaefer nods and rappels down cliff.		       *

As he joins Ramirez, there seem to be butterflies	  *
everywhere --

			SCHAEFER			    *
	What's he got?

			RAMIREZ			     *
	Same business, guerrillas
	hauling two guys from the
	chopper...followed by men
	with American equipment...

Ramirez seems concerned by this.  Schaefer signals him to   *
move on.  Before he follows, Schaefer looks around:  there's*
something dodgy about this.  He goes.		       *

Over his head is a butterfly on a limb:		     *

20     EXT. JUNGLE - OVERHEAD - DAY			  20

As the assault team passes below, a BUTTERFLY lands on
what appears to be the BARK of a TREE.  It fans its wings
and flies on.

The impression of the butterfly remains in PERFECT
RELIEF, as is imprinted on the bark.  The image fades,
REVEALING for an instant a gridwork of TINY SCALES on
the bark.

The bark moves!  Changing colors, like a chameleon,
REVEALING for an instant the form of something alive
as it flows into the leaves, once again becoming
indistinguishable from the surrounding foliage.

TWO EYES, faintly flowing yellow, appear in the
foliage.  They blink, disappearing, and then become
VISIBLE again.


REVISED - "HUNTER" - 1/27/87			  16-A

21     EXT. ALTERED P.O.V. - DAY			     21

careful, silent movements at they pass by.

with an electric, STATICLIKE quality.

The Observer scans over the men...and then focuses
on Schaefer as he crouches down, signaling forward
and rear with a circular motion.  He refers to an
OBJECT in his hand, studying it carefully.



22     EXT. SCHAEFER - DAY				  22

Using a MAP in lining out a course on his COMPASS.  The
other team members appear, silently, clustering around
him.  Using hand signals, Schaefer indicates a course

23     EXT. OBSERVER'S P.O.V. - DAY			  23

Watches closely as Schaefer continues with his hand
signals, instructing his team.

24     EXT. SCHAEFER - DAY				  24

25						     OUT      25


The hillside of a steep valley, dark and foreboding.
Billy passes by and halts, removing his KNIFE.  With
his other hand he pulls down from overhead a THICK VINE,
severing it.  A thin stream of WATER emerges which
he drinks.

Suddenly he stops, letting the water drip to the
ground.  He quietly releases the vine and brings his
M-203 shotgun to bear, listening intently.  Something
seems wrong.  He brings his eyes upward and stares,
hard into the treeline of the opposing hillside.

As his eyes strain to penetrate the dense, intertwined
canopy, he is engulfed by the rising SOUNDS of the
JUNGLE, a cacophony of BUZZING and CLICKING,
amplified in the sweltering heat of the day.  Unable
to locate a source to account for his anxiety, he
relaxes, moving on, resuming the track.

27     BILLY (MINUTES LATER)				27

examines the ground as he moves, growing confused
and puzzled by what he sees before him.  He stops,
scrutinizing the jungle, probing the world around him
with his keen senses.

HEARING a faint RUSTLING SOUND he looks up, SEEING a
curtain of MOSS several feet away.  He takes a cautious
step forward, extending his weapon.  He reaches
forward with his free hand, touching the moss.

Behind the curtain a slight shifting of DARK FORMS
occurs.  He pauses and then with a sudden movement,
sweeps the moss aside...

BIRDS rush past Billy's body.




27     CONTINUED:					    27

Billy's face seizes into a mask of horror, his
expression descending into a state of complete,
primitive shock, his eyes staring transfixed, inches
away from the leering death-grin of a HUMAN FACE,
upside down, completely stripped of skin.

Reeling, his body numbed by the sight before him,
he stumbles backwards and stops.

Vines threaded through their achilles tendons, the
BODIES OF THREE MEN, skinned and gutted, hang
suspended in the think, suffocating air, BUZZING
with insects.

Billy turns away, revulsed as Ramirez moves quietly
INTO VIEW, Schaefer directly behind him.  Ramirez
stares at the bodies, now seen to be in the first
stages of deterioration, strips of flesh torn away
by the birds and other scavengers.  In an almost
childlike manner, he crosses himself.

		(hoarse whisper)
	Holy Mother...

Schaefer moves into the clearing, kneeling beside
a bloody pile of CLOTHING and ENTRAILS.  He examines
the clothing and then rises, holding a DOG TAG on
a broken chain.  He reads the tag, his face growing
hardened and bitter as he stares down at the tag,
recognizing the name.

		(to himself)
	J.S. Davis, Captain, U.S. Army...

Schaefer's eyes move from the bloody dog tag to
the bodies.

	Mac.  Cut them down.

Mac moves forward, withdrawing his COMBAT KNIFE.
The blade flashes, cutting the vine as the first
body THUDS to the ground.  He bends over, picking up
other DOG TAGS.

Schaefer turns to Dillon.



REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/19/86			  19
27     CONTINUED:  (2)				      27

	I knew this man.  Green Berets,
	out of Fort Bragg.  What the hell
	were they doing in here?  You got
	any answers for this, Dillon?

	Jesus...this is inhuman.
		(to Schaefer)
	Uh...I wasn't told of any
	operations in this area.  They
	shouldn't have been here.

	Well somebody sent them.

Schaefer walks off.  Mac steps out of the clearing,
sheathing his knife with a violent gesture, passing

	Must have run into the guerrillas
	...Fucking animals.

Mac moves alongside Blain.

	Ain't no way for a soldier to
		(looks at Blain)
	Time to let 'ol 'painless'
	out of the bag.

Grimly, Blain RIPS apart the velcro closures of the
CANVAS BUNDLE slung across his shoulder, REVEALING
a truly awesome weapon, a SIX-BARRELED MINI-GUN adapted
for field combat.

28     EXT. BILLY - DAY				     28

Kneels at the side of the original trail examining the
ground.  He rises, holding a spent CARTRIDGE.  Schaefer
approaches, kneeling beside him.

	What happened here, Billy?

Billy looks at him, puzzled.



REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/20/86			  20
28     CONTINUED:					    28

	Strange, Major.  There was a
	firefight.  Shooting in all

	I can't believe Jim Hopper
	walked into an ambush.

	I don't believe he did, Sir.
	I couldn't find a single track.
	Just doesn't make sense.

	What about the rest of Hopper's

Billy shakes his head.

	No sign.  They never left here
	It's like they just disappeared.

Schaefer ponders a moment.  Then, to Billy:

	Stick with the guerilla trail.
		(to team)
	Let's get it over with.  We move.
	Five meter spread.  No sound.

						CUT TO:

28-A   EXT. BLAIN - DAY				     28-A

Blain feeds the magazine of BELTED-SHELLS into the
weapon, cocking it.  He looks up at Mac, his eyes
cold, his face taut with anger.

	Payback time.

Blain hefts the Mini-gun to his hip as Mac draws back
slightly on the breech bolt of the M-60, letting it

They move on, Billy pausing to look at the jungle
before disappearing into the foliage.


REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/20/86			  21
29     EXT. ALTERED P.O.V. - DAY			     29

carefully watching this exchange from high in the
treetop canopy.  The Observer watches as Schaefer
turns and leaves the clearing, cautiously moving
into the jungle.

30     EXT. JUNGLE HILLSIDE - DAY			    30

Mac appears suddenly, materializing out of the
undergrowth, pausing cautiously, his senses alert,
intense, almost nervous.  He moves on, his huge body
barely making a sound as he weaves through the heavy

Dillon appears.  As he moves on, he crosses over a
fallen TREE.  Stepping down, his foot breaks through
a rotten portion, a CHUCK of the log breaking free
and rolling down the hill.

Dillon at once goes into a defensive position,
listening.  The jungle is SILENT.  He stands and
starts to move forward.  Suddenly Mac appears
within inches of Dillon's face.  Mac's face is
menacing, angry.




30     CONTINUED:					    30

		(hissing; barely
	You're ghostin' on me, mother
	fokaaa!...I don't care who
	you are back in the world...
	You give away our position
	again and I'll bleed you quiet
	and leave your fuckin' ass
	right here.
		(hisses; spits)
	Got it?

Dillon's eyes are wide and fixed, staring back in
cold hatred at Mac, controlling his rage...he knows
the rules.

Not waiting for a response, Mac turns and vanished
into the jungle.  Seething with anger Dillon
focuses on a still moving LEAF and STEM, indicating
Mac's exit point.  He moves on.

31     EXT. BLAIN - DAY				     31

Crouches under heavy foliage, waiting.  He is
joined by Mac.  They glance briefly at each other,
scanning in opposite directions for movement and
sounds.  They speak in whispers.

	Say, Bull.  What's goin' down?
	We got movement?

	No.  Shithead with his
	trenchcoat and dee-coda-da
	ring was makin' enough noise
	to get us all waxed.  I don't
	like that guy.  Don't like
	him at my back.  I ain't
	winding up like those
	bastards back there.

Mac, sweating heavily, wipes the moisture from
his brow with his finger.

Blain pats the mini-gun affectionately.

	I know what you mean, Bull,
	but don't sweat it, me and
	'ol 'painless' here are
	watchin' the front door.




31     CONTINUED:					    31

	As always, bro...

They do a gentle fist dap and smile warmly at
each other.  Two men who have seen it all,
through a dozen no-win situations, and have lived
to tell about it.

Mac advances a few meters and signals slowly.

32     EXT. KNOLL					    32

The assault team moving up the hill, barely
visible in the heavy foliage, the team moves
cautiously into defensive positions.  Holding.
A moment later they continue up the hill,

On their stomachs, Schaefer and Ramirez clear
the edge of the knoll, SEEING below a GUERRILLA
VILLAGE, a huge, spreading PALAPA covering
implacements dug into a hillside, descending
to a winding stream bed below.  30 MEN, dressed
in a mixture of jungle fatigues and civilian
clothes, armed with AK-47 ASSAULT RIFLES move
about the camp.  A heavy MACHINE GUN emplacement
guards the entrance to the camp.  TWO MEN sit
in the camouflaged emplacement.

33     SCHAEFER						 33

sweeping the camp with BINOCULARS, SEES a
GUARD above the camp.  One of the man picks up
a hand-held ROCKET LAUNCHER, placing it beside
a bandolier of ROCKETS and a RADIO SET and
CONSULS taken from the U.S. surveillance
helicopter as if preparing to take them away.

Schaefer puts down the glasses, looking at
Ramirez who nods in acknowledgment.  A sudden
MUFFLED CRY brings Schaefer's attention to one
end of the camp, where a heavily thatched DOOR
covers and opening to the PALAPA.  A GUARD
stands at the door.

The door flies open as a HOSTAGE, shirtless,
hands tied behind his back, staggers through
the door as if kicked from behind.



REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/29/86			  24

33     CONTINUED						33

The man falls to the ground, feebly trying to regain
his footing.  Although difficult to see from Schaefer's
vantage point, the man's battered face and welt-covered
back indicate he has been severely tortured.

Emerging from the palapa, a GUERRILLA LEADER,
moustached and wearing a SIDEARM, approaches the
beaten man, kicking him viciously in the stomach,
rolling him to his side.

Kneeling beside the man he withdraws an AUTOMATIC from
his holster and cocks the hammer.  Grabbing the man by
the hair he jams the muzzle into the man's ear and with
a violent twist, pulls the trigger.

The guerrilla leader stands and strides quickly back
to the palapa, still holding the pistol, closing the
door behind him.

34    SCHAEFER						 34

grim-faced at having witnesses the murder, lowers him
glasses, a look of cold determination on his face.
Quickly he and Ramirez ease down the escarpment,
joining the other team members.

Schaefer makes a circling motion with his thumb
and the team members gather in close, huddle formation.

		(whispering; angry)
	Just killed one of the			     *
	prisoners.  No time for			    *
	invitations.  We take them,

35     EXT. BLAIN AND MAC - DAY			      35

Crawl silently through the underbrush.  With nearly
impreceptible movements, Blain slips out of the
cartridge pack, ditching the Mini-gun.  He withdraws
his COMBAT KNIFE, placing it between his teeth.

They move through the underbrush in tandem, like
two bug cats, stalking.  Mac freezes, the sweat
pouring from his face, holds up his hand as Blain




35     CONTINUED:					    35

Using a BLADE OF GRASS, Mac points out a metal TRIP
WIRE, following it to a hidden CLAYMORE MINE.  Blain
grins making a switching GESTURE.  Carefully Mac
detaches the LEAD WIRES.  Directing the mine towards
the camp, he reattaches the wires, nodding at Blain.


and Mac, lying in the grass below, their bodies
outlined in LUMONOUS AUREOLES.  The Observer SEES the
NETWORK of TRIP WIRES guarding the approaches to the
machine gun nests.  The wires GLOW as if ELECTRIFIED,
standing out in hard-edged relief in contrast to
the jungle foliage.  He moves higher into the forest

37     EXT. BILLY - DAY				     37

On Schaefer's signal rises up, pulling a SENTRY to
him, covering his mouth with his hand, jerking him
backwards and to the side, knocking him off balance
with a sweeping motion of his left leg, killing him
with his COMBAT KNIFE.

38     EXT. SCHAEFER - DAY				  38    *

Belly crawls silently through the tall grass just
outside and above the main entrance to the camp.  He
stops, studying the ancient, rusted skeleton of a
TRUCK parked on a level spot above the camp, its
engine quietly IDLING.  The truck is jacked and
blocked up, one rear wheel attached to a belt-drive
leading to a PUMP, drawing water from a river nearby.
In the open cab of the truck a GUARD is on duty,
watching the high ground above the camp.

Schaefer moves out, heading for the guard.


While one Guerrilla attends to his equipment, the
OTHER attentively watches the approaches to the camp.
He is momentarily distracted by a BUZZING FLY, which
he annoyingly swats at with his hand.

He hears something to his side.  Turning to investigate,
the huge, hamhock fist of Mack smashes into his throat.

Simultaneously, Blain rises up behind the other man,
grabs him by the hair, pulling him down, his COMBAT
KNIFE driving downward.



40     EXT. TRUCK - DAY				     40    *

A SATCHEL CHARGE is looped over the gearshift lever,
resting on the floorboard.  Schaefer, lying low
across the seat of the truck, turns and looks, SEEING
the guard, lying in a heap in the foliage.

40-A   EXT. RAMIREZ - DAY				   40-A  *

Moves into position to the side and above the camp.
He carefully checks the readiness of his SIX-SHOT
GRENADE LAUNCHER, also setting his MP-5 in front of
him, ready for action.

41     EXT. SCHAEFER					 41    *

Crouched to the side of the truck, watches the camp,
SEEING below through the dense undergrowth, Ramirez,
barely visible, signaling.

Before him are two FRAGMENTATION GRENADES.  He looks
at his watch, and then up the hill to:

41-A   DILLON AND HAWKINS				   41-A  *

their weapons ready.  Dillon picks up his binoculars,
focusing on the machine gun emplacement, seeing a MAN,
his face covered by a HAT.  The head rises, REVEALING
the face of Blain, who looks above the camp and
slightly nods.  Putting his glasses down, motions
to Hawkins.

		(to Hawkins)
	Ready, kid?

Hawkins grins back.  Together they slip through the
grass, downward towards the edge of the camp.

42-						    OUT      42-
43							     43

44     EXT. SCHAEFER					 44    *

Holds his huge, COMMANDO MACHETE on a diagonal,
pushing through the belt, slicing it cleanly.  Turning
he crawls silently to the rear of the truck,
positioning himself behind the rear of the one ton

He squats, and with an enormous, concentrated effort,
deadlifts the rear of the truck, its rusted springs
and frame beginning to CREAK and GROAN slightly.




44     CONTINUED:					    44

With a herculean effort he lifts the truck free of
its blocks and then pushes forward.  He rolls aside,
disappearing into the ground cover as the truck, its
tireless rims digging into the earth, lops down the
hill, slowly picking up speed.


A Guerrilla, alerted by the SOUND of the approaching
truck, looks up at the hillside, SEEING the vehicle
still moving down the hill at a moderate roll.  He
CALLS OUT and several Guerrilla leaves their posts,
moving out to prepare to stop the truck.

The truck rolls into the clearing picking up speed,
heading towards the main palapa.  The men rush
forward, surrounding the truck, trying to slow it
down, but the truck rolls, SMASHING through the front
wall of the palapa.  The men gather around truck
and then look back up the hill.

46     EXT. ALTERED P.O.V. - DAY			     46    *

Watching as Schaefer pulls the pin and launches the
GRENADE into the air, the Observer following its
arc as it spirals dead-center into the camp, bouncing
twice before rolling into the FUEL DUMP...which a
moment later, EXPLODES into an incredible FIREBALL.

The expanding FIREBALL released from the explosion
is to the Observer like an erupting sun, momentarily
blinding him.

47     EXT. GUERRILLA CAMP - DAY			     47

The truck is BLOWN up into the air by the explosion...
a moment later the satchel charge DETONATES with an
ear-splitting EXPLOSION, tearing the truck apart.

48     EXT. SCHAEFER - DAY				  48

Jumps to his feet, FIRING an M-203 round into the

49     EXT. KNOLL - DAY				     49

Schaefer races down the hillside, joined by Dillon,
leaving Hawkins to cover them.  Bullets burst around
their feet as they run low, firing short bursts to
his left and right.




49     CONTINUED:					    49

He FIRES the undermounted GRENADE LAUNCHER, sending a
round into a gun position in the trees.  Still running
he breaks open the breach, slamming in another 40mm
ROUND from the cartridge pack at his waist.

Blain and Mac fire the heavy machine guns, laying down
a withering curtain of lead, shredding the camp,
taking out five Guerrillas at once.

50     EXT. GUERRILLA CAMP - DAY			     50

A MAN almost completely ON FIRE is hit by an onslaught
of GUNFIRE, ripping him back into the jungle.

Ramirez cuts loose a barrage from the SIX-SHOOTER...
seconds later the MACHINE GUN IMPLACEMENT erupts in
a series of EXPLOSIONS, blowing two Guerrillas into
the air.

At the HILLSIDE HUT, two Guerrillas move into position
by the window, drawing down on Schaefer as he appears,
racing down the hill.

As they are about to open fire, Dillon appears,
YELLING OUT a warning.

	On your nine!!!

Schaefer dives, hitting the ground as Dillon OPENS
FIRE taking out the Guerrillas.  Schaefer rolls to
his feet, spins, firing the 203 grenade launcher,
completely destroying the hut.

51     EXT. ALTERED P.O.V. - DAY			     51

As the Observer regains its vision an eerie, surreal
experience of sight and sound unfolds:

BULLETS streak through the air, leaving blood-red
trails of HEAT, like laser blasts.  As they impact
into the Guerillas, we HEAR the enhanced SLAPPING
of BULLETS, SEEING tiny blossoms of HEAT mushroom
out of their bodies.

We HEAR the horrific, deformed CRIES and SCREAMS
of the dying men.

Another searing, blinding EXPLOSION sends pieces of
SHRAPNEL ripping through the air, some of them
ROARING past the Observer's position, like tiny



52     EXT. GUERRILLA VILLAGE			        52    *

at the entrance way to the main palapa, a Guerrilla
stands in the doorway, giving COVER FIRE to his comrades
as they fall back inside.

Jumping from the roof of the adjoining palapa, Billy
drops directly in front of the Guerrilla.

From the side, unseen by Billy, another Guerrilla	  *
thrusts out with a knife, Billy ducking backwards, the
tip of the knife SLASHING his face.  With a lightning
move, Billy whips his arm up and around the Guerrilla,
locking his elbow, breaking the joint.

Still holding the man he FIRES, blowing the other
Guerrilla off his feet with the SHOTGUN portion of his
weapon.  He looks at the Guerrilla out of the corner of
his eye.  He suddenly strikes, breaking his neck,
dropping him in a heap.

Billy continues on, racing down the stairs, firing the

Meanwhile, Blain is crouched next to a tree, providing      *
cover.  Behind Blain, at the edge of the camp, circling
around from below, TWO GUERRILLAS appear and FIRE a
grenade round which EXPLODES behind Blain, fragments
ripping into the tree next to which Blain is standing,
bark and dirt flying as shrapnel rips into his vest, one
piece tearing into his upper shoulder.  The hits have
no effect on the huge man and with a savage GROWL, he
spins, opening fire, raking the two attackers with the

Nearby, Mac charges from the jungle on a dead run,
diving over a fallen tree as machine gun FIRE rakes the
ground around him.

Blain, spotting the sniper high in a tree, opens FIRE
with the MINI-GUN, shredding the tree, sending the
Guerrilla crashing down through the roof of the

53     INT. PALAPA - DAY				    53

The sniper CRASHES through the roof, landing on the
floor near Hawkins and Ramirez who do a quick double
take before opening fire on a group of fleeing
Guerrillas, taking out two, giving chase to the others.




53     CONTINUED:					    53

Schaefer and Dillon appear at the top of the staircase,     *
Schaefer freezing as he SEES below a Guerrilla raising
an AK-47, preparing to fire.  Schaefer tackles Dillon,
the two men hurling into the air, a moment later BULLETS
ripping into the CRATES behind where they were standing.

Dillon rises up, kicking over a crate, shooting the	*
Guerrilla who is trying to bring the gun around to fire
at him.

Schaefer crouches, covering the upper entrances to the      *
palapa, as Ramirez rushes past, joining Schaefer.  From
the corner of his eye, Schaefer catches a movement.
With a whipping, backhanded throw, he lets fly his

The machete impales the attacking Guerrilla, driving him    *
backwards, pinning him to a post.

	Stick around.

Schaefer and Ramirez run towards the lower levels, side
by side, firing as they go.

They reach a door, Schaefer taking out an ATTACKING
Guerrilla.  Ramirez grabs the side of the door, shoots
a look to Schaefer and throws it open.  With Schaefer
covering him, Ramirez takes a quick peak inside and
then rushes into the room.

53-A   INT. ROOM - DAY				      53-A

At one end is a STAIRWAY, leading to an escape door.
A Guerrilla, seen from the waist up, scrambles down
the stairs.

At the base of the stairs, a Guerrilla, holding an
AK-47 on his hip, turns and starts to fire.

Schaefer and Ramirez respond with full AUTO BURSTS
which rip into the Guerrilla, spinning him around,
knocking over a crude WOODEN TABLE, scattering a

As he spins he FIRES the weapon, an arcing line of SLUGS
slamming into the tin roof, sending down a shower of
rust and dirt.  He falls to the ground.  Dead.




53-A   CONTINUED:					    53-A

Ramirez charges through the DUST and thick SMOKE to
cover the fallen men; Schaefer following close behind,
jerking a new CLIP from his ammo belt.

Suddenly, another Guerrilla erupts from behind some
ammunition crates, drawing down on Ramirez with a
machine pistol.


As the Guerrilla fires, Schaefer smashes the butt of
his empty weapon into the Guerrilla's shoulder, knocking
the gun aside, the SLUGS thudding into the wall

He hits the Guerrilla with a vicious glancing blow to
the head with the barrel of his weapon.  The Guerrilla
is hurled backward, crashing into the wooden crates and
to the floor.

Ramirez, recovering quickly, descends the stairs with
catlike agility, disappearing.

Schaefer crouches and spins, jamming a new clip into the
rifle, scanning the palapa for any other movement.  He
races to the main door of the room, shouting into the

He SEES Blain charging down the steps.  Catching his
attention he signals him on, out the back to cover

		(to Hawkins)
	Hawk, Get Con. Op. on the
	hook!  Position and situation,

As Blain runs down the stairs, Hawkins already has the
radio off his back, setting up the portable SATELLITE

	You got it, Major!


REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/29/86			  32


Ramirez, Blain and Billy race down the back stairs
of the palapa, FIRING Mini-gun, automatic and grenade
rounds at the escaping GUERRILLAS as they flee the area,
splashing, charging across the shallow river.

The guerrillas are no uncertain terms.

53-C   INT. PALAPA - DAY				    53-C

For the first time, Schaefer studies the interior of
the cavernous palapa, SEEING the enormous stockpile
of WEAPONS, EQUIPMENT and SUPPLIES stacked along the
walls, obviously a major military stronghold hidden
deep within the mountains.  Mac hustles up to Schaefer,
a look of urgency on his face.

	Any sign of the hostages?

	We found 'em both, dead.
	And the gear from the chopper.
	If they're Central American,
	I'm a fuckin' Chinaman.  By			*
	the looks of 'em, I'd say our		      *
	cabinet minister and his aide		      *
	are CIA.
	Another thing, Major, we were
	lucky...couple of those guys
	we waxed are Russians,
	military advisors by the look
	of it.  Something big was
	about to happen here.

Schaefer looks at Mac a moment, a flush of anger
beginning to show.

	Good work, Mac.  Clear the
	area, no traces.  Get the men
	ready to move.

Schaefer goes back into the room, looking down at the
unconscious guerrilla, racking a round into the
chamber, reloading his weapon.

He kneels, staring into the FACE of a WOMAN, ANNA,
dark, late twenties.  Despite her blood and
dirt-smeared face, she is beautiful.




53-C   CONTINUED:					    53-C

		(closes eyes)

He checks her pulse and then slowly he bends to pick
up her PISTOL, ejecting the clip.  He stands, beginning
to shuffle through the PAPERS scattered about the room.
Staring at one he looks up, the pieces falling together.

54     EXT. JUNGLE - DAY				    54

Ramirez, at a crouch, runs through the jungle,
following the obvious signs of the Guerrilla's
retreat.  He emerges from the trees into an opening,
leading to a sheer rock cliff, towering fifty feet
above the ground.  Scanning the wall, he SEES
movement and quickly takes cover, as automatic
FIRE rips up the ground before him.

54-A   EXT. ROCK WALL - DAY				 54-A

Near the center of which a narrow cut, two feet
wide, leads to the top of the cliff, giving access
to the adjoining ridge.

Two Guerrillas scramble up through the chimney,
assisted by a ROPE, which with withdraw as they
reach the top.  Ramirez takes out one man, the
other taking cover, returning fire.

54-B   EXT. BASE OF ROCK WALL - DAY			  54-B  *

Blain joins Ramirez, behind cover at the foot of
the cliff.  As they take cover, Ramirez notices
the wound on Blain's shoulder.

	You're hit.  You're bleedin',

Blain looks briefly at the wound.

	Ain't got time to bleed.

On a signal, they both clear cover and fire LONG
BURSTS from their weapons up the cliff.




54-B   CONTINUED:					    54-B

The smoke is hardly cleared when they are answered
by withering FIRE.  They duck down as a grenade
EXPLODES nearby.  Ramirez quickly replaces the 40MM
rounds into the SIX-SHOOTER.

	Son of a bitch's dug in like
	a Alabama tick...
	...jack us around all day.

	Hell, dude, we don't have all

Ramirez immediately rolls into the line of fire,
BLASTING six RAPID-FIRE shots on a HIGH-ARC trajectory
towards the rocks.  Blain reacts.

	Shit, Pancho!!!

Blain dives against the protective cover of the
rock wall, covering his head.  Ramirez casually
hops across, squatting next to Blain.  They make

	What's your problem, dude?

Before Blain can answer, Ramirez puts his fingers
into his ears and grimaces just as...

The entire hillside EXPLODES, blowing the Guerrillas
into the air, a torrent of vegetation and earth
raining down the cliff, obscuring Blain and Ramirez.

55     INT. PALAPA ROOM - DAY			        55

Schaefer is staring out the window, his weapon slack
in one arm, still holding the paper.  Dillon enters,
obviously excited about what he has found.  He sees
the papers on the floor.  He reads through them
quickly, growing even more excited.

	This is beautiful!  More than
	we ever thought.  We got the



REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/17/86			  35
55     CONTINUED:					    55

Schaefer turns, striding slowly to Dillon, handing him
the paper he is holding.

	I think this is the one you want.

Dillon reads it.

	Two days...that's all we had.
	In two days, three hundred of
	these bastards would have been
	equipped with all this.  After
	they crossed the border, it
	would have taken a year to
	stop them.
		(looks up)
	We've averted a major
	guerrilla invasion, Dutch...

Schaefer moves in close to Dillon, face to face,
anger flaring in his eyes.

		(slow; deliberate)
	It was all bullshit.  All of it.
	From the set us up,
	got us in here to do your
	dirty work.

	That's right, I set you up.
	You're a veteran at this, Dutch,
	I had to.

	Why us?

	Because I told you, you're the
	best.  I knew you could do it but
	I couldn't get you in here without
	a cover story.

	What story did you give to Davis?



REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/29/86			  36

55     CONTINUED:  (2)				      55

	We've been lookin' for this
	place for months.  The chopper
	must have gotten close when
	they got shot down.  Hopper			*
	was sent in to get my men.
	He was just doing his job.
	When he disappeared I had to
	clean this up,  I had to stop
	there bastards.  We were so
	close, we couldn't quit.  We
	couldn't sleep through this
	one.  I needed you, Dutch,
	can't you see that?

	To invade a foreign country,
	illegally?  You lied, Dillon.
	Stacked the odds against us.  Set
	us up.  You could have gotten
	us all killed.
		(pause; looking at him)
	You used to be one of us,
	Dillon, someone I could trust
	with my life...

	We've been through a lot together
	Dutch.  When we were together, no		  *
	one could stop us, the hottest		     *
	Goddamned team the army ever saw.		  *
	But things changed, I woke up.
	We're fighting them in a dozen
	Goddamned countries.  It's a
	fight we can't lose, Dutch.  We're
	all expendable assets, can't you
	see that?

Schaefer takes the paper from Dillon's hands.

	That's your problem, Dillon.
	You always did put ambition
	before the lives of your men.
	My men are not expendable.  I
	don't do this kind of work.
		(crumples up
		paper in fist)
	This is your dirty little war,
	not mine.



REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/17/86			  37
55     CONTINUED:  (3)				      55

He stuffs the crumpled paper into Dillon's shirt

Anna, regaining consciousness, GROANS, a heavy flow
of blood running down her face from her head wound.

Hawkins appears at the door.


Schaefer turns away from Dillon and steps through
the doorway into the palapa as Anna moans again,
MUMBLING something in Spanish.  Dillon kneels,
beside her.

		(quietly; in Spanish)
	Are you all right?

55-A   INT. PALAPA - DAY				    55-A

Schaefer is talking to Hawkins who has the field
radio set on a crate just outside the door.

	Major, we stepped into some
	real shit here.  I got a hook-up
	with aerial surveillance.




REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/29/86			  38

55-A   CONTINUED:					    55-A

	Guerrillas swarming like flies		     *
	all over the place.  Can't be more		 *
	then one, maybe two miles away.		    *
	Place is going down, Major.

	How much time?

	Half an hour, maybe less.			  *

Schaefer touches him on the shoulder.

	Tell Mac we move in five.

He starts to walk away.

	She goes with us.

Schaefer turns.  Dillon is at the doorway, supporting
the still groggy Anna.

	She's too valuable.  She's
	got to know their whole
	network.  The whole set up.
	We take her with us.			       *

	We take her and she'll give
	away our position, every
	chance she gets.  No
	prisoners, Dillon.

Dillon grabs the handset from Hawkin's radio, shoving it
at Schaefer.

	You're still under orders,
	Dutch.  You want to make the
	call, or should I?

Schaefer looks at the handset.  Then at Dillon, he knows
Dillon's won.




55-A   CONTINUED:  (2)				      55-A

He starts to walk away but stops, turning back, pointing
a finger at Dillon.

	I'm getting my men out of this
	damn jungle, Dillon.  She's
	your baggage.  You fall behind,
	you're on your own.


Schaefer and Billy are kneeling on the ground near the
trailhead, studying a MAP.  In the b.g., the team, hidden,
covers the hillside approaches to the camp, nervous and
wary, weapons ready.

	This place is too hot for a pick-up.
	They won't touch us until we're over
	the border.  We can lift at LZ 49,
		(points to map)
	Spotter plane says we're cut off.
		(points to map)
	Except for this valley.

Billy shakes his head, following the CONTOUR LINES of
the rugged terrain.

	Looks bad, Major.  It's gonna be
	a real bitch.
		(points to map)
	If we follow above the river and
	then down, here, at this canyon,
	we might find a way out.

Schaefer turns to Ramirez, kneeling close by.

	Not much choice.  Pancho, take
	the lead.  Double time it.

He turns and looks at Dillon, Anna as his side, her
forehead bandaged, her hands bound in front of her.
He turns back to the others.

	Lock n' load, watch your ass.

Blain moves out, swinging the Mini-gun in front of him
as he goes.



56-A   EXT. OBSERVER'S P.O.V. - DAY			  56-A

Watching as Dillon leads ANNA onward, SEEING her bound
hands.  Dillon pushes her.

57     EXT. ANNA - DAY				      57

Spins, hurling a string of insults to Dillon in

		(in Spanish)
	You touch me again, pig, and
	I will cut off your balls!

		(in Spanish)
	It's a long walk back, make it
	easy on yourself.

She spits at him, turning forward with a twist of
her head.

Dillon picks up his back, shouldering it.  As they
move on, Mac calls out to him.

	Hey, Dillon, over here.

Dillon doesn't respond.

	Dillon, over here.

Dillon turns and approaches, warily, holding
the girl.

	Yeah, what is it, Sergeant?

MAc unsheathes his knife.  He gives Dillon a cold
look and turns him by the shoulders.  Crawling
across the PACK on Dillon's back is a huge SCORPION.

Mac skeweres the scorpion with the tip of his
blade, holding it before the wincing Dillon.  Anna
smirks, nodding to the writhing, stinging insect.

		(in Spanish)
	When my people catch you,
	you'll wish you were him.




57     CONTINUED:					    57

Dillon looks at Mac.



Mac flings the scorpion to the ground, crushing it
with his boot.  He looks up at Dillon, walks away.
Dillon follows, pulling Anna behind him.

Billy, guarding the rear, glances furtively around
the clearing.  He moves a step forward and stops,

Slowly he turns back, his eyes riveted upon the
treeline above the camp.  His eyes strain, his
senses registering a fear he cannot name or see.

Something is out there, in the trees, waiting,

Billy turns and walks into the jungle, pausing
one last time to look behind him before he too
disappears from sight.

The jungle GROWS SILENT.


LOOKING DOWN from his vantage point TO the treeline
below, terraces like stepping stones, FOCUSING ON
a TREE, fifty feet away.

The Observer utters a LOW TRILL and springs outward
into space, hurtling downward towards his landing
point, the canopy of the trees approaching in a
staccato rush of green.

The SOUNDS of the FOREST are again altered and
enhanced with an electric, STATIC-LIKE quality as
the Observer descends fluidly through the trees
and to the ground.

He enters the camp, surveying the terrible
destruction and carnage.  He SEES the dead
Guerrillas, the dissipating heat from their bodies
leaving them pale and GHOST-LIKE, as if fading
light about to extinguish.  He sees their weapons,
the cold hard steel of the barrels registering
ICE BLUE in his vision.




As it appears, pulsing in a pale magenta heat, low
to the ground, holding his weapon.  He lays down
the weapon, picking up the SCORPION, turning it
slowly in his fingers, examining it.  It looks like
an exotic flower, its color fading from sight,
turning to BLACK.

A low SOUND is uttered, something vaguely familiar
about it:  A NEARLY HUMAN VOICE, a distorted
imitation of Mac.

		(o.s.; filtered)
	Dillon, over here.

Again the phrase is uttered, improving, closer to
Mac's inflection and accent.

	Dillon, over here.

The Hunter lowers the pitch.

	Dillon, over here.

The last effort is a chilling simulation of Mac's

59     EXT. OBSERVER'S HAND - DAY			    59

Drops the scorpion and picks up the weapon which
changes instantly back to the Observer's skin tones.

59-A   EXT. OBSERVER'S P.O.V. - DAY			  59-A

He turns and focuses on the area where the team
left camp.

He crouches and springs to the lower branches of a
tree, grasping them with his clawed, three-fingered
hands, pulling himself up and through the branches
with astounding speed and simian-like dexterity; his
spurred prehensile feet, grasping and thrusting him
to a vantage point, fifty feet above the ground.

As he moves on, the jungle grows suddenly QUIET, as
if aware, sensing that the HUNTER is now stalking, no
longer observing!!!



60     EXT. JUNGLE VALLEY - DAY			      60

The twilight world of a PREHISTORIC FOREST, filled
with gigantic plants and towering trees, overgrown
with vines and creepers.

The team, with Billy at point, walk alongside a
wandering STREAM BED, weirdly illuminated by SHAFTS
OF LIGHT, streaming through openings in the trees,
as if from spotlights, a hundred feet above.

It is midday, hot and humid, the air BUZZING with the
sounds of insects, the CRYING of birds and monkeys.
The men are moving fast and quiet, straining to see
into the dense jungle, aware of every sound, sweating,
quietly slapping at biting insects.


Lies across their path.  As the man climb over a
rotten section, Mac stops to assist Blain with his

	I've seen some badass bush
	before, but nothin' like
	this, man.
	Little taste 'o home?

Blain nods and pauses to rest, looking around him
as Mac withdraws a small silver POCKET FLASK.  He
takes a nip, passing the flask to Blain who also
takes a sip.

	I hear you bro, this is some
	shit.  Makes Cambodia look
	like Kansas.  Lose your way
	in here, man, you be in some
	kinda hurt.

Blain hands back the flask, Mac replacing it inside
his vest.  They do their hand dap, looking warily
behind them before they move on.


Have fallen behind, Dillon looking worriedly ahead
at the them out distancing them.  Anna is keeping
her pace purposefully slow.  She trips on a root
falling to the ground.  She lies there, motionless.
He quickly reaches down to haul her to her feet.



REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/29/86			  44

62     CONTINUED:					    62

	Shit.  Come on...

Like an uncoiled spring, Anna turns, flinging a
handful of DIRT into his face, momentarily blinding
him.  She lunges for his rifle with her bound hands.

Suddenly the BARREL of an MP-5 is thrust into her face.

Looking up she SEES Ramirez, calmly holding the weapon
on her, the look in his eyes indicating he'd hove no
trouble shooting her.

		(in Spanish)
	Don't try it.

She looks back at Dillon, wiping the dirt from his eyes.
She moves on.  Ramirez gives him a cold look as Dillon
hurries past.

	You should put her on a leash,
	Agent Man.  If you can't handle
	her, just say the word.

Dillon moves on, ignoring Ramirez, who turns, scanning
the jungle behind him before moving on.  Dillon catches
up with Anna, turning her sharply by the chin.

		(cold; in Spanish)
	Try that again.  Please.			   *

She looks at him contemptuously, undaunted.  She will
try it again.  She breaks away from his grasp and
moves on, Dillon watching her go, he won't hesitate
next time.

63     EXT. HUNTER'S P.O.V. - DAY			    63

As he travels, directly overhead, timing his movement
with those of the team.  He moves lower, closer to
the slowly moving humans.

64     EXT. RIVER BED - DAY				 64

The team moves cautiously through the winding stream
bed, now wearing their clothing in various stages of
disarray for comfort, sweat dripping from their bodies.



REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/17/86			  45

64     CONTINUED:					    64

Billy, in the lead, picks his way along the riverbank,
his concentration rapt, aboriginal.  His face a
trancelike mask of expectation.

Blain, cradling the heavy Mini-gun as if it were a
toy, swings the weapon relentlessly across his field
of view.  He pauses to adjust the hanging, belted
loop of cartridges trailing from the back pack
magazine.  An INSECT lands on his face and is trapped
in the grease paint near his lips.  He draws the
hapless bug into his mouth with his tongue and quietly
spits it out, his concentration unbroken.

Mac follows, holding the M-60 high across his chest.

Schaefer, bent, cautious, his feet moving aside the
dry leaves on the ground, heel to toe and on foot
edges.  He glances around, checking the team's
position and progress.

Hawkins follows, his mouth open, breathing deeply,
exhausted, the radio a 60 pound demon.

Anna, struggling to climb a section of the stream
bank, slips on some loose dirt.  Unable to assist
herself with her hands tied, she nearly falls.
Dillon prods her with his rifle, forcing her to
her feet.  She scrambles up the bank, Dillon following.

65     EXT. RIVER BANK - DAY				65

As Billy enters a small clearing, bordered on one
side by the towering trees, carpeting the
mountainside.  High above in the thick, impenetrable
treeline, brightly colored birds SQUAWK loudly,
chasing each other from branch to branch.

Suddenly Billy stops.  Schaefer holds up his hand
and the team freezes in position.  An eerie SILENCE,
like a slowly falling curtain, descends over the
jungle until even the BUZZING and CLICKING of insects
have CEASED.

66     EXT. TEAM MEMBERS - DAY			       66

Sensing an ambush, move quietly into the foliage.
Dillon moves into the undergrowth, dragging Anna
with him.  He slings his MP-5 over his shoulder,
withdrawing his KNIFE.  Grasping Anna by her shirt
collar and pushing her to the ground he holds the
weapon near her throat.  Dillon signals to Ramirez	 *
who approaches.  Dillon hands Ramirez the knife.



REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/17/86			  46
66     CONTINUED:					    66

	Watch her.

Before Ramirez can respond, Dillon slips into the
undergrowth.  Ramirez holds the knife on Anna,
cautiously scanning around him for movement.

Unseen by Ramirez, Anna's outstretched hands slowly
tighten around a stout ROOT-BURL, lying loose on the

67     EXT. BILLY - AT THE RIVER BED - DAY		   67

He remains frozen and transfixed, staring into the
treeline.  Something is moving, fluid, silently and
downward, into the forest.  Billy remains rooted to
the spot, lost in concentration.

68     SCHAEFER						 68

sensing something very wrong with Billy, moves alongside

	What's got Billy so spooked?

	Can't say, Major...been
	squirrely all mornin'...
	fuckin' weird...sometimes
	I think that nose of his is
	too good...smells things that
	ain't there.

Schaefer signals for Mac to cover him and then moves low
and quiet towards Billy.  Dillon appears, looking to
Mac for an explanation.  Mac ignores him, concentrating
on the jungle.  Dillon looks forward at...

Billy, his eyes riveted to the capony above, as he
unconsciously reaches to his throat, grasping a LEATHER
POUCH, secured to his neck by a thong.  He fingers the
MEDICINE BAG talisman.

69     EXT. HUNTER'S P.O.V. - DAY			    69

As he slowly descends through the trees, moving
towards Billy, who's eyes search the treeline for



70     BACK TO SCENE/SCHAEFER			        70

approaches Billy, gripping his shoulders and in a
hoarse whisper, speaks his name.

	What is it...?

Billy, rigid, does not respond.  Schaefer forcefully
jerks his around to face him.

	Billy...What the hell's wrong
	with you?

		(low) the trees...

71     EXT. HUNTER'S P.O.V. - DAY			    71

Still closing in on Billy.  Billy turns back, looking
high into the trees, puzzled and frightened.  He's
lost sense of the Hunter's presence.  He lowers his
vision, looking towards the Hunter, now on the ground,
30 yards across the clearing from Billy.  The Hunter


	Can you see anything...

Schaefer stares hard at the jungle.


73     EXT. HUNTER'S P.O.V. - DAY			    73

Moves behind a broad fern, skirting around Billy
and Schaefer, heading away from the column.


Schaefer shakes his head, continuing to stare into
the jungle.  He turns to Billy.

	What do you think...?



REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/17/86			  48
74     CONTINUED:					    74

Billy turns, a puzzled look in his eyes.  He nods
in agreement.

	It's nothing...

75     EXT. ANNA AND RAMIREZ - DAY			   75

Sensing the danger has passed, Ramirez releases his
grip on Anna.  As they start to rise, Ramirez sheaths
his knife and unslings his MP-5.  Anna still stares
hard into the jungle.

Suddenly, without even looking, Anna with the trained
reflexes of an experienced fighter swings the BURL with
all her might, catching Ramirez hard on the side of the
head, just above the eye, opening a wicked gash.
Spinning around she knees him brutally in the groin.
As Ramirez goes down, doubled over in pain, Anna turns,
scrambling up the embankment, running for the jungle.

Ramirez CRIES out.

76     EXT. SCHAEFER - DAY				  76

HEARING Ramirez' cry, Schaefer signals to Hawkins to
move.  Hawkins moves out, fast, heading towards the

77     EXT. HAWKINS - DAY				   77

SEES Anna running away.  He gives chase.

Anna, although bound, is light and fit and runs fast,
hurdling fallen logs and branches, charging through the
undergrowth.  SHe has a good start.

Hawkins, hampered by the radio and weapon but in
tremendous shape, thunders after her, closing the

78     EXT. HUNTER'S P.O.V. - DAY			    78

As he passes from behind a large tree, surrounded by
dense foliage, SEEING the fleeing Anna.  He watches
her and then begins to move parallel with her, only
faster, the green of the jungle rushing by in a blur.

79     EXT. ANNA AND HAWKINS - DAY			   79

Anna, bursting through a grove of ferns, drives on,
breathing hard with the exertion.




79     CONTINUED:					    79

Hawkins, ten yards behind, closing the distance,
taking advantage of any hesitation Anna makes,
struggling with the dense jungle.

Anna hits a small clearing, an alleyway through
the trees.  She sprints hard across the clear

80     EXT. HUNTER'S P.O.V. - DAY			    80

Moving through the jungle.  As he steps clear of
the foliage he SEES Anna driving hard into the
alleyway, running directly towards him.  Twenty
yards away, Hawkins, closes in.


Only a few feet behind Anna, lunges forward, knocking
her to the ground.  In a second he's on her, his
weapon ready.  She struggles to her feet, fighting,
gasping for breath.  Hawkins holds the MP-5 on her,
looking at her, almost pleading.  He doesn't want
to shoot her, but he will if he has to.


She looks at the weapon, to Hawkins and then,
hopefully, to the jungle.  She stops, staring hard
down the alleyway.  Something...suddenly she sees it!

		(in Spanish)
	Look out, behind you!!!

Hawkins spins...

82     EXT. HAWKINS AND ANNA'S P.O.V. - DAY		  82

SEEING the MOTTLED OUTLINE of the Hunter's body,
racing towards them, as if the entire wall of the
jungle were rushing in.  The Hunter's WEAPON
flares to life.


As he hurtles towards them, their faces frozen in


A splitting THUD as Hawkins is hurtled backwards into
the undergrowth, the Hunter's hand and WEAPON flashing



REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/17/86			  50
84     CONTINUED:					    84

through the air.  BLOOD splashes on Anna's face.
She SCREAMS as Hawkins' MP-5 FIRES a short BURST
into the air.

85     EXT. RIVER BED - DAY				 85

HEARING the GUNFIRE, Schaefer WHISTLES low and sharp.
Ramirez, face bloody, swings into action, moving in a
coordinated defensive/offensive pattern into the


The Hunter's ARM and SPUR hook into Hawkins' leg, and
he is dragged into the jungle.

87     EXT. RAMIREZ - DAY				   87

Ramirez runs forward ten paces, drops to a crouch,
scanning to each side.  Immediately Schaefer runs
forward twenty paces.  As he passes Ramirez, Ramirez
turns and scans the rear and flanks.

Dillon, Mac and Blain repeat the maneuver, leap-frogging
forward, canvassing the jungle, providing areas of
intersection cover.

88     EXT. RAMIREZ					  88

Entering the alleyway where Hawkins was killed he SEES
Anna, cowering in the bushes, her blood splattered
face glazed with terror, his eyes vacant.  He
approaches, angry, wary, but the girl is so stunned.
He SEES the trail of BLOOD and CRUSHED GRASSES leading
into the jungle.  He gives a LOW WHISTLE and then moves
on, the rest of the team assuming defensive positions
around the clearing.

He follows the trail, finding first Hawkins'
blood-covered weapon, and then, a few yards later,
the radio.  Ramirez cautiously parts the brush before
him.  A look of puzzlement and then revulsion comes
of his face.

89     EXT. ALLEYWAY - DAY				  89

Blain and Mac at either end, cautiously searching
the jungle; Billy covering their flanks.




89     CONTINUED:					    89

Schaefer and Dillon approach Anna.  She seems unaware
of their presence, staring numbly ahead.  Schaefer
checks her out, looking for wounds, he wipes some of
the blood from her face.

	It's not her blood.

Ramirez emerges from the jungle carrying Hawkins'
MP-5 and radio.  He approaches, dumping the equipment
on the ground.

	Major, you'd better take a
	look at this.


	I can't tell.

90     EXT. SCHAEFER AND RAMIREZ - DAY		       90

Dillon in the b.g., as Ramirez parts the brush with
his weapon.  Before them, covered with dirt and
leaves, are Hawkins' ENTRAILS.  There is no body.

	What in God's name...?

	I think it's Hawkins.

	Where the hell is his body?

	There's no sign of it.

91     EXT. ALLEYWAY - DAY				  91

The entire team is gathered, still holding defensive
positions.  Anna, still stunned, is beginning to
come around.  She looks up at Schaefer.  He turns to



REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/17/86			  52
91     CONTINUED:					    91

	Ramirez, ask her what

Ramirez drops to one knee and talks softly to her in
SPANISH.  She mutters incoherently in Spanish, still
dazed, shaking her head.  Dillon listens closely to her
response.  Ramirez turns to Schaefer.  He seems

	She says...the jungle came
	alive, and took him...

	That isn't what she said...
	she said...
		(pondering; to
	...she doesn't make sense.

		(growing angry)
	Couple of sappers been
	trailing us all the way from
	the camp, Major.  Billy heard
	them.  She set us up, ran
	for it...They were waiting.
	I should've wasted the bitch
	when I had the chance.

Schaefer, looking at Hawkins' bloodstained equipment
lying at Anna's feet, looks up.

	Why didn't they take the
	radio and his weapon?
	Why didn't she escape?

Ramirez and Dillon look at the equipment and then
to the girl, still numb with shock.

		(grimly; remembering)
	They did the same thing to




91     CONTINUED:  (2)				      91

The two veteran commandos look at each other, finding
no explanation between them.

		(urgent; to the others)
	I want him found.  Sweep
	pattern and double back.  Fifty

They move out.  Schaefer moves into the jungle,
searching.  He crouches at the base of a huge
MAHOGANY TREE, covered with vines, studying the
jungle.  He moves away from the tree and into the
forest, looking for signs on the ground.

Where he was sitting, a DROP OF BLOOD falls.  Another
drop falls, dripping from a leaf and above that, from
another leaf.  Above that, high in the top of the
tree, SUSPENDED from vines from his ankles, is
HAWKINS' BODY, his chest a gaping wound.

He hands there as if he were an animal, field dressed.

92     EXT. BLAIN - DAY				     92

Crouched in the undergrowth.  There is a movement in
the brush before him.  He wipes the sweat from his
eyes and clicks his safety on the Mini-gun to fire.

The SOUND is growing closer.  Blain levels the weapon.
A smile crosses his face.

	Come on in you fuckers...come on
	in.  'ol 'painless' is waitin'...

The movement in the brush is GROWING LOUDER.  Blain's
finger moves closer to the trigger.

Suddenly a small TAPIR bursts through the leaves,
startling Blain.  He relaxes momentarily as he
watches the animal scurrying from sight.  He




92     CONTINUED:					    92

SOMETHING grazes his shoulder, a gout of BLOOD erupting.
He starts to turn, the Mini-gun held low, ready to

...from out of the jungle, 75 feet away, the Hunter's
WEAPON streaks toward him like a missile.  He SCREAMS
as it enters his back, erupting from his chest in an

93     EXT. MAC - DAY					93

Has heard Blain's cry.  He moves fast through the brush.
He HEARS a RUSTLING in the bushes.  A wet SUCKING SOUND.
Mac charges into the clearing.  In the instant before
the Hunter disappears into the forest, Mac SEES a vision
so brief and fantastic that it seems like a

The Hunter's EYES flare momentarily from the green
before they vanish.

Mac sees his friend, lying on the ground, his chest
open, the powerful man, dead.

	Contact, 30 Right!!!

He OPENS FIRE with his M-203, belted shells slamming
into the weapon from the magazine at his waist,
expending it in one LONG BURST.


Flying through the jungle, weapons ready, eyes searching
for movement.

95     EXT. MAC - DAY					95

He throws down the weapon and with a cry of rage, lunges
forward, grabbing the Mini-gun.  As he stands, the
CARTRIDGE BELT, attached to Blain, strings out between

He opens FIRE and the foliage before him EXPLODES with
the fury of the terrible weapon.  Mac sweeps the
Mini-gun from left to right, like a man possessed,
mowing down the jungle.

The other team members race INTO SIGHT and begin firing
with Mac.



REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/29/86			  55

95     CONTINUED:					    95

Ramirez opens FIRE with the SIX-SHOOTER grenade
launcher...EXPLOSIONS rock the jungle.

96     EXT. HUNTER - DAY				    96

Moving.  A piece of SHRAPNEL cuts his shoulder.  A
splash of ORANGE BLOOD spatters across the LEAVES
of a nearby tree, bullet holes ripping through the
surrounding foliage.

97     BACK TO SCENE/MAC				    97

More FIRING.  Mac, his weapon expended, continues
to thrust the Mini-gun forward, still squeezing the

Suddenly, as quickly as it started, THE FIRING STOPS.
The men move catlike into the jungle, reloading,
searching, their nerves taut, stretched to the limit,
ready to fire again at any second.

Mac is frozen, eyes wide, unblinking, his breath
coming in rapid gasps as he stares into the jungle,
still squeezing the trigger of the weapon, its
breech locked open, GUNSMOKE wafting from the chamber
and barrel.

Schaefer moves in front of Mac, still staring into the
jungle.  Dillon pushes Anna into the clearing, moving
towards the body.  Anna looks at the body and then up
to Mac.  Schaefer sees a terrifying moment of
recognition flash in her eyes as she continues to
stare at Mac.  He turns to Mac.

	I...saw it.

At these words, Anna reacts in shock, drawing a	    *
slight breath.  Schaefer turns, sees her staring at	*
Mac.  He turns back.

	You saw what?

		(still dazed)
	I saw it.

Schaefer turns back to see Anna, staring fixidly at Mac,    *
watching his lips.  Schaefer turns quickly to Blain's       *
body and kneels alongside Dillon.

98     SCHAEFER						 98

is at Blain's side, shocked at the sight of the
mutilated body.  He is joined by Dillon.




98     CONTINUED:					    98

		(to himself)
	...Just like the
	powder burns, no shrapnel.

	The wound all fused,
	cauterized...what the hell
	did this?

Schaefer stands, looking at the body.  In the b.g.
Anna drifts away from the group.

		(to Mac)

Mac stares ahead, dumbly, not hearing.  He grabs Mac
by his shoulders, shaking him violently back to

	Mac!  Mac!  Look at me!

Mac turn to face Schaefer, a shocked expression on his

	Mac, who did this?

Mac is suddenly angry and frustrated, he has no

	I don't know.  Goddamn it,
	something...I saw something/.

Ramirez runs from the jungle, breathing hard, shaking
his head.

	Nothing.  The same thing.
	Not a fucking trace.  No
	bodies, blood, anything.




98     CONTINUED:  (2)				      98

Mac stands.  Instinctively the team has now grouped
around Schaefer, their weapons pointing into the jungle,
ready, their nerves on total edge.  Schaefer looks
upward at the darkening sky.

	We're losing the light.  Mac,
	I want a defensive position
	above this ridge, mined with
	everything we're got.

Man is again the hardened professional.


Schaefer looks down at Blain's body.  He turns to
Ramirez and Billy.

	Put him in his poncho and
	liner and carry him back.
	We'll bury him in the morning.

	I'll take him.

99     ANNA						     99

as they leave approaches the brush, her attention
focused on something clinging to the leaves, well off
to the side of where Mac saw the Hunter.  She draws
closer, reaching out, hesitant, as if drawn magnetically
to the leaves.

100     EXT. DETAIL - HUNTER'S BLOOD - DAY		   100

Clinging to the leaves, thick, viscous, pale-orange,
almost like the sap of an exotic plant.  Her fingers
hover above it, hesitantly, and then touch it.

101     ANNA						    101

examines the blood, transfixed.  Dillon appears at her
shoulder, startling her.  He motions for her to return.
She turns, wiping the blood onto her pants leg.

102     EXT. ENCAMPMENT - DUSK			       102

The team is dug into the foxholes in a dense grove of
trees, a solid wall to their backs.  The men are barely
visible they blend in so well.




102     CONTINUED:					   102

Nearby, Mac is stringing a TRIP WIRE, low to the ground,
covering it with leaves and grass.  He moves into camp
and reports to Schaefer.

	We've got most of the flares,
	frags. and two claymores just
	outside.  Nothin's comin'
	close to here without trippin'
	on somethin'.

	Thank you, Sergeant.

Mac starts to go but Schaefer places his hand on his

	I'm sorry, Bull.  It's never
	easy.  He was a good soldier.

	The best friend I ever had.

Mac turns and walks through the camp, stopping beside
a DARK OBJECT on the ground.  He kneels beside the
PONCHO pulling back the zipper REVEALING Blain's face,
looking peaceful in death, as if lying in state.

Mac removes something from his pocket, holding it in
his hand, studying it.

103     DETAIL OF OBJECT IN MAC'S HAND		       103

The small WHISKEY FLASH, the chrome rubbed away in
places REVEALING the brass beneath and a MEDALLION
depicting the 101 1ST AIRBORNE DIVISION.

104     MAC						     104

takes a tiny sip from the flask.  He replaces the cap
and lifts the flap of Blain's shirt pocket, placing
the flask inside.  He lingers on the face and then
closes the zipper.

	Good-bye, Bro.



105     ANNA						    105

is huddles into a foxhole, her hands still tied in front
of her.  She looks down at her pants leg.  The Hunter's
BLOODSTAIN glows with a faint luminosity.  She places
her fingers near the stain.

106     INT. HUNTER'S SHIP - NIGHT			   106

Hawkins' BODY impacts the floor with a THUMP.

107     EXT. ENCAMPMENT - DAY (DUSK)			 107

A momentary HUSH falls over the symphony of night
sounds.  Anna and Billy turn towards the trees with a
growing look of wariness.  The others, setting up the
RADIO, show no response.

108     INT. HUNTER'S SHIP - DAY (DUSK)		      108

The Hunter's foot steps on the upper leg of the corpse,
the PREHENSILE SPUR digging deep, pinioning the body
to the ground.  The Hunter's HAND extends, his
FINGERS puncturing the skin at the base of the spine,
gripping the vertebrae.

With otherworldly strength the arm pulls, the entire
SPINAL COLUMN ripping free from the body, a sickly
SNAPPING and POPPING of cartilage separating from bone
and tissue.

109     EXT. ENCAMPMENT - DAY (DUSK)			 109

Ramirez is tuning in the compact FIELD RADIO, equipped
with a CRYPTO-PHONE device.  Dillon holds the handset.

		(to phone)
	Blazer One, say again...

A CRACKLE of STATIC over the radio.

		(voice over)
	Red Fox, I say again.  Your
	request for extraction denied.
	Your area still compromised.
	Proceed to Sector 3000 for
	prisoner extraction, Priority
	Alpha.  Next contact at 1030



REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/17/86			  60
109     CONTINUED:					   109

		(to phone;
	Roger, Blazer One.  1030
	hours...damn, bastards.

He puts down the phone, turning to the group, huddled
together in a tight circle, Ramirez and Billy facing
outward in defensive positions, Anna, silent, watching.
Schaefer is look at him.

	We're still too far in, they
	won't risk coming in for us.

	Expendable assets, Dillon.
	Seems Langley is never around
	when you need them.

	I can accept that, it comes
	with the job.

	Bullshit.  You're just like
	the rest of us.

Dillon glares back.  Schaefer leaves, lost in thought.
Ramirez looks up at the impenetrable canopy.

	Shit load o' good a chopper'd
	do us in here anyway.

Dillon turns to Mac.

	Mac.  Who hit us today?

Mac is still obviously feeling the anger and bitterness
of the mystifying event.

	Don't know, only saw one of
	'em.  Camouflaged.  He was
	...Those fucking eyes...



REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/17/86			  61
109     CONTINUED:  (2)				     109

	What, Sergeant?

	Those eyes...disappeared.  But
	I know one thing, Major...
	...I drew down and fired
	right at it.  Capped-off two
	hundred rounds and then the
	Mini-gun; the full pack.
	Nothin'...nothin' on this
	earth could have lived...not
	at that range.

Dillon ponders this for a moment, staring hard at Mac.
Mac gets up.

	I've got the first watch.

Mac departs.  Dillon watches Mac as he creeps forward
to the sentry position.  He turns to Ramirez.

	Ask her again.  What did she
	see?  What happened to

Ramirez turns to Anna.  They talk quietly in Spanish,
Dillon watching, listening carefully.  Ramirez turns
back to Dillon.

	She says the same thing...
	It was the jungle...

Ramirez looks up at Billy who continues to stare into
the jungle, aware, catlike, reacting to every sound,
his nerves on edge, as if ready to snap.  Ramirez
rises, moves alongside his friend, Dillon watching



REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/17/86			  62
109     CONTINUED:  (3)				     109

	You know something Billy, what
	is it?

Billy turns, his face a mask of primal fear.  He moves
close to Ramirez.

	I'm scared.

Ramirez is frightened by this.

	Bullshit.  You ain't afraid
	of no man.

Billy looks deep into his eyes, chilling Ramirez to the
bone, looking at his with eyes which have seen on an
instinctual level what the others have so far only begun
to sense.

	There's something out there,
	waiting for ain't
	no man.

Billy turns away, moving a short distance away, taking
up his position.  Dillon looks after him and then into
the blackness of the jungle canopy.  Dillon speaks to

	He's losing his cool.  There's
	nothing out there but a couple
	of men that we're going to
	have to take down.

Despite his words, there is an edge of doubt in his
voice.  Schaefer returns.  He's overheard this exchange.
He's holding the group of DOG TAGS taken from Davis' men.
He holds them up for Dillon to see.

	You still don't get it, do
	you Dillon?  He took Davis...
	and now he wants us.



110     INT. HUNTER'S SHIP - NIGHT			   110

CLOSE ON an oval CHAMBER made of an otherworldly looking
metal with a strange copperlike patina, its interior
bathed in INTENSE BLUE LIGHT.  In the chamber is
Hawkins' SKULL CAP and SPINAL COLUMN still attached.

The light field suddenly changes as all connective
tissue, flesh and blood and drawn away from the bony
structures with incredible force, disintegrating as they
rush toward the sides of the chamber.

The light changes in frequency to a dull glow as the
Hunter's hands remove the GLAZED, POLISHED trophy from
the chamber.  He turns, carefully placing it upon a
GLOWING SURFACE.  He touches the trophy gently, feeling
its texture, as a man might touch the hide of a big cat.
He pulls his hand away and instantly an opaque FORCE
FIELD covers the trophies.

111     EXT. MAC - NIGHT (LATER)			     111

Hunched down in a foxhole, the Mini-gun on a tripod
before him.  It's nearly a FULL MOON, the jungle a
montage of SHADOWS AND REFLECTIONS.  Mac stares into
the night, his eyes always moving.

	It's the same kinda jungle,
	Bro, same moon...
	...a real number ten night.
	Remember Bro?  Only you and
	me, the only one's out of the
	whole fuckin' platoon who made
	it out.

His eyes probe the darkness, remembering.

	...we walked out on top of
	'em.  Not a scratch, not a
	fuckin' scratch.
		(spits into
		the night)
	No fuckin' chili-choker got
	to you, were just
	too good...

He ponders this a moment.




111     CONTINUED:					   111

	...I promise you this, Bro...
	whoever he is, I hope he's
	plannin' to hit us again...
	...'cause he's got my name
	on 'em.

112     INT. HUNTER'S SHIP - NIGHT			   112

A FORCE FIELD that permeates the jungle, becoming one
with the trees and foliage.  The Hunter walks down a
CORRIDOR of SOLID LIGHT, leading to an opening to the
jungle.  As the Hunter reaches the doorway he changes
from visible to invisible, moving on into the night.

113     EXT. ENCAMPMENT - NIGHT			      113

The mist has thickened, the night alive with a million
JUNGLE SOUNDS.  The team members sleep uneasily, if at

Mac, although weary, stares hard into the night,
waiting, each small sound a potential enemy.  A LULL
spreads over the jungle, animals and insects QUIETING.
Mac tightens his grip on the Mini-gun.

Billy awakens, peering into the night.  Nothing.

Suddenly, a metallic CLICK, a POP, the SOUND of a
warning flare rocketing into the canopy.  A moment later
a brilliant FLASH as the flare burns, illuminating the

An echoing eerie SCREAM fills the night as a DARK SHAPE
in the mist rockets through the undergrowth towards Mac.

Mac spins, hauling the heavy gun around, just as
something crashes into his upper body, driving the huge
man into the foxhole.

A desperate battle for life ensues, illuminated with
the strobing light of the descending flare.  Mac's
enraged SHOUTS and ROARS mingled with horrific SCREAMS
fill the night.

Mac's razor-edged KNIFE slashes in the light; BLOOD
spatters his face as he attacks fiercely.




113     CONTINUED:					   113

Schaefer and Ramirez rush at a crouching run towards
the foxhole, their weapons ready.

A tremendous climatic SCREAM from the foxhole AND THEN,
SILENCE.  Schaefer and Ramirez approach, cautiously.
Mac stands, his face and clothes drenched in blood,
some of it his, his breath coming in rapid gasps.  He
looks at Schaefer, whispering hoarsely.

	Got the motherfucker...

As the flare breaks through the canopy, dying out in
great flickering bursts, the man stare down into the
foxhole.  A huge, jungle BOAR lies mutilated in a pool
of blood, still quivering in the final throes of death.
The flare dies out.

Mac, shaking from adrenalin, breathing heavily, looks
down at the dying animal.

	A pig...just a fucking pig...

Schaefer shines his TEKNA-LIGHT onto the boar, playing
the light along its massive hulk, its razor edges tusks
gleaming in the light.  Ramirez appears by his side,
looking down at the huge carcass.

	Holy shit, Mac.

Nearby, unnoticed by the men, Anna stoops, her hands
still bound, picking up an MP-5 from the ground.  She
turns, looking for an avenue of escape, running for
the jungle.

But the forest looks foreboding and sinister.  She
stops, staring at the jungle, the moonlight reflected
off leaves like a thousand eyes.  For a brief second
she imagines she can see the Hunter's eyes, crashing
towards her, the shifting patterns of light and dark
making the jungle seem to strobe, like it is about to
rush in at her.  She freezes, paralyzed by fear, by her
memories of the attack.

She drops the MP-5 to the ground.

Back at the foxhole, Schaefer and Ramirez help the
still shaken Mac from the hole.  Schaefer looks at
Mac, at the huge gash across his chest.




113     CONTINUED:  (2)				     113

	Get a field dressing on that
	right away.

Suddenly he remembers, Anna.

	Where's the girl?

They all turn, ready to move and then stop.  Coming
forth from the shadows Anna appears, still frightened,
seeking the security of the soldiers.

From the darkness nearby, Billy's VOICE in a hoarse

		(o.s.; urgently)
	Major, over here.

Schaefer turns, apprehensive, something in Billy's

He walks over to Billy, standing with a FLASHLIGHT
pointing to the ground.  They see Blain's BODY BAG
slashed open, covered in blood.  Ramirez appears.

	The's gone.

	Came in through the trip
	wires, took it right out from
	under our noses...

Anna appears between Schaefer and Ramirez, staring down
at the empty, blood-soaked body bag.  She looks up, into
Schaefer's eyes.

114     EXT. ENCAMPMENT - DAY (PRE-DAWN)		      114

A patchy GROUND FOG covers the area.  Anna, in her
foxhole, awakens, LISTENING to the rising SOUNDS of
the jungle.  MONKEYS begin to forage, their noisy
CHATTERING and SCREECHING filling the air.

A BIRD flutters back to its nest; a CHAMELEON emerges
onto a leaf, directly above Anna's head.



REVISED - "HUNTER" - 5/6/86			   67

114     CONTINUED:					   114

Anna carefully extends her arm, allowing the lizard
to crawl onto her, watching, fascinated as it changes
colors.  She carefully places the chameleon back on the
leaf, which changes color again, becoming nearly

Near the empty PONCHO, Schaefer, Billy and Ramirez
are examining the ground and the trip wire to the
flare.  Billy stands, turns to Schaefer.

	Boar set off the trip flare,
	Major.  No other tracks.

Schaefer kneels and examines the thin, well hidden
WIRE.  He stands, looking around the camp.

	How could anyone get through
	this, carry Blain out, right		       *
	under our noses without leavin'		    *
	a trace?

	He knows our defenses.			     *
	Why didn't he try to kill one
	of us last night?

Schaefer looks at him.

	He came back for the body.
	He's killing us, one at a

Schaefer turns and looks at Billy, asking with his
eyes for a viable explanation.

	Like a Hunter.				    *

Schaefer stares at him, the words sinking in.  He	  *
looks up, reconstructing in his mind the possible	  *
events of last night, his eyes following the tree line,     *
tracing the path of the intruder as he might have	  *
travelled through the trees and down to the ground.	*
He looks up at Billy.

	He uses the trees.				*



REVISED - "HUNTER" - 5/6/86			   68

114     CONTINUED:  (2)				     114

Billy and Ramirez stare up at the trees, a wave of fear     *
passing through them...from the trees.  Schaefer turns,     *
moving to where Dillon is guarding Anna, sitting on the
ground.  Reaching down, Schaefer pulls her firmly to her
feet, looking at her intensely.

	Yesterday.  What did you see?

She stares back at him.

	You're wastin' your time.

	No more games.

She looks at him a long moment, and then answers in

	I don't know what it was.

Dillon does a double take.  Schaefer continues to look      *
at Anna.  He wasn't surprised:  he knew it yesterday.       *

	Go on.

	It changes colors, like the
	chameleon.  It uses the jungle...

	Shit, you trying to tell me
	Blain and Hawkins were killed
	by a fucking lizard?  Don't
	listen to her.  Its's a psych-job.
	Two, maybe three of them, that's		   *
	all.  We keep our cool, out-think		  *
	them 'til we're across the			 *
	border...					  *

Ignoring him, Schaefer takes her hands, drawing his
COMMANDO KNIFE, looking squarely into her eyes.

	What's you name?

She looks back into his eyes.



REVISED - "HUNTER" - 5/6/86			   69

114     CONTINUED:  (3)				     114


	Anna.  He's hunting us.  You
	know that?

She nods.  With a sudden movement he slices through
her bonds.

	What the hell do you think
	you're doing?

	We're going to need everyone.		      *

	What are you talking about?
	We'll be out of here in ten			*
	minutes.					   *

	We're not going.				  *

	That rendezvous is ten maybe		       *
	twelve miles, at most!  We're		      *
	almost home.  But the chopper		      *
	won't wait.

Schaefer turns to face him.

	Dillon...This thing doesn't			*
	care who we are, who she is.
	We make a stand or there won't		     *
	be anyone left to make that			*

Dillon stares back, not wanting to hear what he
already knows to be true.

Anna touches Schaefer's arm.

	There is something else.  When
	the big man was killed, you
	must have wounded it.
	It's blood was on the leaves.



REVISED - "HUNTER" - 5/6/86			   70
114     CONTINUED:  (4)				     114

She touches her pant leg, the stain is faded but still
there.  Schaefer turns to Dillon.

	If it bleeds, we can kill it.

115     EXT. ENCAMPMENT - MORNING (LATER)		    115

Anna at the base of the rocks scans the jungle with
binoculars watching the tree line.  Mac moves past her,
uncoiling a trip wire linking up four CLAYMORE mines
hidden at various points with leaves and foliage.  In
a tree at the edge of the clearing, Billy tosses an
uncoiling roll of wire to Ramirez who attaches it to
a GRENADE, wedged it the crouch of a tree.

Wires attached to GRENADES and CLAYMORE MINES lead off
through the underbrush and trees leaving a long, unmined
corridor leading from the camp and into the jungle.

At the corridor's end, where the rocks merge with
the jungle, Schaefer hauls down on a HEAVY VINE,
straining with every ounce of strength, his muscles
bulging, while Dillon takes up the slack of the vine



REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/29/86			  71

115     CONTINUED:					   115

around the base of a tree.  The vine is attached to a
forty foot SAPLING, arcing closer to the ground in a
gigantic bow with every pull, CREAKING and GROANING
with tension.  With a last mighty heave, Schaefer draws
the tree almost within reach, gesturing to Dillon to        *
tie it off, who does.				      *

	I'm tellin' you, this little		       *
	'boy scout' stunt is a			     *
	Godamned waste of time.			    *
		(stands)				   *
	We've got to get the hell out		      *
	of here, now, while we've still		    *
	got the chance.

Ignoring him, Schaefer rapidly drags into position a
NET crudely woven of differing sizes of vines, their
LEAVES still attached.  He carefully begins to cover
the net with leaves and debris.  Dillon watches him
in growing frustration as Schaefer moves quickly,
picking up a FRAMEWORK of STICKS he has tied together,
a TREADLE-SPRING TRIGGER.  He holds up the framework,
hurriedly examining his work before placing it on
the ground.

	He'll be looking for the trip wires.
	If we're lucky, he won't see this.

	Now what, Dutch.  You going to
	send your mystery guest an

Schaefer turns, there is a touch of fear in Dillon's

	You're catching on, Dillon.

Schaefer returns to his work on the net and trigger.        *


REVISED - "HUNTER" - 1/30/87			  72
116     EXT. ENCAMPMENT - DAY (LATER)			116

Morning passes.  Fog lifts as the sun creeps into the jungle.
Insects swarm and are fed upon by BIRDS and other predators.

At the entranceway to the rock outcropping, the net and trigger
are hidden beneath the leaves, the framework of the trigger
bulging with tension from the straining vine attached to the
bent tree.

At the other end of the corridor, several meters above the
jungle floor, Schaefer and his team, heavily camouflaged,
nearly invisible, lie hidden, waiting.  The team members, as
if hypnotized by the BUZZING din, stare into the jungle,
fixated, alert.

ANNA while waiting at the net:

	When I was little we find a man --
		(she struggles for
		the words)
	-- like a butcher.  The old ones in
	the village cross themselves and
	whisper crazy things.  'Demonio,
	cazador de trofoes...Only the hottest
	times of the hottest years...'  Crazy
	things...This year is grows hot.  And
	we begin finding our men.  We find
	them sometimes without their skin.
	Sometimes...much, much worse.  Cazador
	de trofoes...means the demon who takes

SLOW RACK TO Schaefer's face.  Ashen.  HOLD.  Suddenly an
EERIE SILENCE moves over the jungle:

He whips his face forward.  The silence is SHATTERED by a
bird flapping from the brush.

Schaefer sits back and scratches his head, frustrated and a
little chagrined.

	What'll you try next -- cheese?

Schaefer glares at him.  Turns to go --

He stands and begins to move low to the ground toward the
waiting snare.



REVISED - "THE HUNTER" - 1/27/87		      72-A
						        116 Cont.

Behind him, sighting down their well-hidden gun barrels, the
others scan the jungle, alert for the slightest sound or
movement, covering him.

Schaefer reaches the trap, carefully skirting the trigger
hidden beneath the leaves.  He reaches the end of the corridor,
moving out into the jungle.  He moves further away from the
others, the silence crushing down on him.  He stops and waits,
sweat pouring down his face, his finger tightening on the
trigger of his M-203, eyes scanning the jungle.

He turns his back on the jungle, waiting.  Nothing.  He moves
back towards the corridor, reaching the net, again waiting,
listening, sensing.  Nothing.  He turns around, looking at the
jungle one last time, his face measuring defeat and then, with
carefully, measured strides, he walks back to the camp.

Schaefer looks at Billy who shakes his head in puzzlement.
Nearby, Dillon starts to rise.

		(low; whispered)
	Satisfied?  Now let's get the hell




116     CONTINUED:					   116

Suddenly, behind Schaefer at the end of the corridor,
with a resounding SWISH and SNAP, the NET explodes off
the floor of the jungle in a hail of leaves and sticks,
rocketing upward into the treetops.

Schaefer spins, the others leaping to their feet as
they SEE the net as it tears into the treetops, a
large struggling bulge trapped within as a long,
unearthly TRILLING SCREAM ECHOES through the jungle.

Schaefer and the others charge from the rocks towards
the jungle and the bobbing net, their weapons ready.
Anna remains behind, watching terrified from the rocks.

They arrive under the net, raising their weapons to
fire...but before they can fire the entire net
EXPLODES into a flurry of leaves, twigs, vines, dirt

117     EXT. HUNTER'S HAND AND ARM - DAY		     117

As the Hunter leaps from the net his WEAPON activates,
his arm slashing out, severing a THICK LIMB of the
spreading tree capony, entangled in vines.

118     EXT. THE TEAM - DAY				 118

The limb CRASHES down from the trees, Schaefer, Dillon,
Billy and Mac Diving for safety.  But Ramirez, following
the Hunter's leap, SEES too late the pendular movement
of the severed limb and is struck a THUDDING blow in
the ribs, which lifts him off his feet, hurling him
backwards like a rag doll, his shirt torn open,
exposing a BLOODY WOUND.

As Anna runs to Ramirez's side the others, still
stunned, look upward, frozen in shock SEEING:  THE
HUNTER, clinging to a side of a tree, flushed bright

Dillis is dumbfounded, like the others, rooted to the
ground staring upward.

	What is God's name...?

The Hunter utters an unearthly SNARL and HISS from his
open mouth as an instant later his camouflage resumes
and he vanishes from sight...a rapid, furtive movement
through the trees.




118     CONTINUED:					   118

Mac OPENS FIRE with the M-60, the others joining in,
shredding the foliage, but they know the creature is

With a SHOUT, Mac races into the jungle, in pursuit
of the Hunter.


Schaefer hurriedly ejects the spent clip from the M-203,
slamming in a new one.  He shouts an order to Billy.

		(to Billy)
	Get Ramirez on his feet!  Take
	the girl and get the hell out
	of here!

He turns to run after Mac.  Dillon steps in front of
him, putting his hand on Schaefer's chest.

	No way, Dutch.  I'm going.
	You get these people and get
	the hell out of here.

	This isn't your style, Dillon.

	Guess I've picked up some bad
	habits from you, Dutch.  Now
	don't argue with me, you know
	I'm right.  Get to that
	chopper and hold it for us.
	We'll be along.

	You know you can't win this

Dillon stares at him.

	You know me, Dutch, I never
	did know when to quit.

Dillon turns and begins to move out.




118     CONTINUED:  (2)				     118


Dillon turns.  Picking up the spare MP-5, Schaefer
tosses the weapon to Dillon, who grabs it with one
hand.  They share a look, knowing this is farewell.

	I'll see you there.

	Right behind you.

Hefting both weapons at the hip he runs into the jungle
after Mac.  Schaefer watches him leave.  He breaks and
goes to Ramirez, attended by Anna and Billy, who is now
sitting up, holding his ribs and gasping for breath.

	He's busted up, bad, Major.

	I can make it, Major.

Schaefer lifts him to his feet, supporting him.

	Come on, Poncho, we're getting
	out of here.
		(to Billy)
	Billy, take the radio, leave
	the rest.  Come on!

119     EXT. MAC - DAY				      119

Creeping low to the ground, his eyes searching through
the trees.

	Come on, you motherfucker!

120     EXT. DILLON - DAY				   120

Moving through the underbrush HEARS a slight RUSTLING
in the foliage.  Mac?  He strains to locate the source
of the movement.

He HEARS A SOUND, too faint at first it identify.  He
listens.  Silence.  He hears is again, the SOUND of
a VOICE, barely audible.  A VERY QUIET WHISPER.




120     CONTINUED:					   120

	Dillon, over here.

Dillon locates the direction of the voice and moves
towards it.

		(o.s.; barely
	Dillon, over here.

Dillon moves a few feet into the undergrowth.  He
carefully parts the thick leaves and vines and enters
a tiny opening.  He looks around, seeing nothing.


Suddenly a HAND appears and covers Dillon's mouth.
Dillon gasps as Mac pulls him down to where he is

	Out there.  Past the rocks...
	can you see it?

Something seems to MOVE in the direction Mac is pointing.

	I see it!
	We're gonna take this thing.

Dillon points to an OUTCROPPING OF ROCKS, covered with

	Take a position over there.
	I'll work around towards you.
	When I flush him, you nail

		(a mean look)
	...Right, I got a score to
	settle for the Bro...




120     CONTINUED:  (2)				     120

	We both got scores to settle.

Dillon silently disappears into the jungle, Mac
watching him go.

Mac makes his way toward the rock outcropping, working
his way between the rocks and the vines.  He takes up
a position and scans the jungle before him.

121     DILLON						  121

moving quietly, his face intense, determined.  He
stops and listens.


straining to hear VAGUE SOUNDS coming from the jungle.
He reaches out and grabs a VINE and carefully pulls
himself forward into a better position.

123     BACK TO SCENE/DILLON				123

moving, searching.  He goes into a crouch.


There is MOVEMENT in the undergrowth.  He begins to
sweat.  He moves the safety to fire; reaches out and
grabs another vine to pull himself forward.  Mac
reacts in shock.

The vine is alive!  Before he can move, the Hunter's
HAND appears from the vines, grabbing Mac by the

In the moment before he is killed, Mac turns and SEES
the Hunter's glowing EYES.

A FLASH as the Hunter's other hand, moves with
blinding speed, Mac's face contorting in pain as the
Hunter's razor-sharp SPUR rips deep into his throat.
He falls forward into the leaves.

125     DILLON						  125

He HEARS the faint disturbance in the leaves.  He
pauses, turning in Mac's direction, listening.
Hearing no further sound he relaxes, moving on.




Anna in the lead, followed by Schaefer carrying Ramirez
on his back.  Billy, carrying the RADIO is covering
them from above, as they skitter and slide down the
loose gravel of a rocky slope, leading to a river

127     EXT. DILLON					  127

He stalks through a narrow corridor of tangled vines
and moss, leading to the rock outcropping on the other
side, his face alert, showing no signs of fear, his
weapon ready.

128     EXT. VINES AND MOSS - DETAIL - DAY		   128

Through the thick tangle of undergrowth, there is
MOVEMENT, a slight, undulating distortion, drifting
through the hanging vegetation, as if cast by a
passing shadow.

129     DILLON						  129

as he stops and crouches slightly, listing behind him.
Did he hear something?  He moves on.

130     EXT. HUNTER'S P.O.V. - DAY			   130

Behind Dillon and to the side of the corridor.  The
Hunter syncopates him movements precisely with those
of Dillon.

Dillon stops.  The Hunter freezes in position.

131     BACK TO SCENE/DILLON				131

He does sense something behind him.  He crouches and
spins, leveling the weapon.  The corridor behind him
is empty, quiet and undisturbed.  He studies the trail

132     EXT. HUNTER'S P.O.V. - DAY			   132

Peering out through the vines.  Dillon is looking
directly at him.  Dillon turns, moves on, as the
Hunter resumes his stalk, timing his movements
perfectly with those of Dillon.

133     BACK TO SCENE/DILLON				133

as he approaches the rock outcropping.  He signals.
Receiving no response he moves closer, turning
cautiously to right and left.




133     CONTINUED:					   133


He moves closer to the rocks, eyes probing.  Through a
gap in the rocks he SEES Mac's face, staring up at him,
eyes frozen wide in death.

Dillon spins hard.  He stares at the solid wall of
undergrowth.  He looks from one side of the corridor
to the other.  Something it out there.  Where?

Something in the vines has caught his attention.  He
stares hard at a section of moss.

134     EXT. MOSS - DETAIL - DAY			     134

Suddenly the right combination of light and shadow
prevail and Dillon SEES in an instant, the Hunter's
EYES materialize and then disappear.

135     BACK TO SCENE/DILLON				135

With a growl and exhalation of breath, charges,
bringing the weapon to bear.  A short BURST OF GUNFIRE
erupts from the barrel.

136     EXT. THE HUNTER - DAY			        136

In an indiscernible blue of camouflage releases his

137     DILLON						  137

SCREAMS, his arm instantly severed halfway between
his shoulder and elbow.  The weapon drops to the
ground, the forearm still attached, still FIRING.

With his left hand he FIRES the second weapon
SHOUTING INSANELY as swings it towards the blurred
image of his unseen attacker, hitting nothing.

The Hunter reloads his WEAPON which turns INVISIBLE
again.  Dillon continues to fire.  The Hunter's
weapon appears from below, cutting into Dillon's
unprotected abdomen, which, as if hit by a samurai
sword, bursts open.  Dillon CRIES OUT as the huge man
hits the ground.

138     EXT. LOG CROSSING - DAY			      138

spanning the narrow gorge, Schaefer and Anna with
Ramirez between them, move onto the log, preparing
to cross.  They stop, HEARING Dillon's GUNFIRE.



139     EXT. HUNTER'S P.O.V. - DAY			   139

Moving through the jungle with incredible speed,
leaping, tearing from tree to tree, the jungle a rush
of HEAT TRAILS as he charges on.

140     EXT. LOG CROSSING - DAY			      140

The jungle is still deathly SILENT.  Schaefer, Anna
and Ramirez cross the log, moving onto the other side.
Billy, still at the foot of the log, providing cover,
turns to face the jungle.

He lifts his head towards the trees, feeling the
onrushing presence of the Hunter.  He shrugs off the
radio letting it fall, smashing into the rocks

He casts away his weapon.  Staring forward he reaches
into his cargo pocket, withdrawing a small
GREASE-PAINT TIN.  Covering his finger in BLACK
PAINT he applies dark slashes under his eyes and
again, vertically down his cheeks.  Taking another
dap of paint he makes a SYMBOL on his bare skin, over
his heart.

He drops the tin, withdrawing his COMBAT KNIFE.  Holding
the knife he grasps the MEDICINE BAG around his neck,
yanking it free with a quick snap.  He wraps the
leather thong around his hand and knife, binding the
weapon and bag together.

Staring outward, as if in a trance, he begins a low

On the other side, Schaefer carrying Ramirez on his
back, laboring up the steep slope, nearing the top,
turns and SEES Billy standing, waiting at the foot of
the bridge.


But Billy stands at the foot of the bridge, knife
raised, waiting, accepting his oncoming destiny.




REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/17/86			  81
140     CONTINUED:					   140

In frustration, Schaefer hikes Ramirez higher onto his
back, digs in and sprints to the top of the hill, Anna
waiting at the top.

141						     OUT     141

142     EXT. BILLY - DAY				    142

Crouches low, knife extended in a fighting position.

143-						    OUT     143-
144							    144

145     EXT. RIDGETOP - DAY				 145

Over the top, in a low depression, Schaefer props
Ramirez against some rocks, reaching for his weapon.
They HEAR Billy's echoing SCREAM.  Instantly their
weapons are raised, cocked and ready.

	Get back, into the rocks!

Schaefer sweeps Anna behind him as Ramirez struggles
to his feet.  Together they back up, covering the
ridgeline over which they've just come.

Suddenly, from one side, near Ramirez, the Hunter
bursts from the jungle, Ramirez, seeing the Hunter,
spins raising his weapons to fire...

Ramirez SEES the Hunter's onrushing face, still in
camouflage, a montage of organic textures and colors,
his yellow eyes burning.

Whipping the MP-5 is the direction of the Hunter
he is hurled backwards from the impact of the Hunter's
weapon, his neck gushing BLOOD, the MP-5 flying
through the air, landing in front of Anna.  She moves
for the weapon...

The Hunter, with unearthly speed, turns towards
Anna, as Schaefer starts to spin, SEEING the Hunter
about to strike as Anna dives for the weapon.
Schaefer lunges kicking the MP-5 out of Anna's reach.

		(to Anna)
	Run!  Get to the chopper!




145     CONTINUED:					   145

Schaefer spins and FIRES, bullets THUDDING into the
ground, the barrel arcing towards the Hunter as Anna
stumbles to her feet running into the jungle.

In a blur the Hunter spins back, hurling his weapon at
Schaefer which slices through the wooden stock of the
rifle, SPARKS FLYING as it severs the trigger guard
and steel breech.

The M-203 flies out of Schaefer's hands as the Hunter's
weapon cuts deeply into his left shoulder, laying open
the flesh.

The M-203 hits the ground, where it lies broken in half,

Schaefer hits the ground and is rolling, up and running
for his life, the Hunter charging after him.

146     SCHAEFER						146

crashes headlong through the jungle.  He leaps a fallen
log, stumbles, struggles to his feet, running on pure
adrenalin, his shoulder pulsing blood, his eyes filled
with terror.

Behind him he can hear the Hunter in pursuit, closing.

Schaefer spins to look behind him, a wild desperate
look on his face; he turns back, ducks an overhanging
limb and lunges on.

147     EXT. HUNTER'S P.O.V. OF SCHAEFER - DAY	      147

Closing rapidly...another few yard.

148     BACK TO SCENE/SCHAEFER			       148

runs like a madman, the SOUND of the Hunter's FOOTSTEPS
close behind.  He's losing ground.  He knows he's going
to die.

Schaefer SHOUTS.  Suddenly the ground before him
COLLAPSES and he disappears from sight.

149     EXT. CANYON WALL - DAY			       149

In a shower of leaves, flailing arms and legs, Schaefer
crashes through the trees at the canyon's edge, free
falling into space.




149     CONTINUED:					   149

With a sickening IMPACT, he hits the branches of the
first trees lining the canyon and falls, a hundred feet,
through one canopy after another, desperately grabbing
for limbs and branched to break his fall.

He hits the bottom branches of the list line of trees,
impacting crosschest on a large BRANCH, knocking his
wind out.

Semi-conscious, he hangs momentarily before he slides
off, fingers digging into the bark, falling another ten
feet into the swiftly moving river.

150     EXT. RIVER - DAY				    150

Weighted down by his boots and clothing, Schaefer
struggles to stay afloat.  Gasping for air he ducks
underwater, untying one of his boots.  He surfaces,
fills his lungs and dives again, releasing the other
boot.  He surfaces, strips off his shirt and pants and
begins to swim towards shore, stroking with one arm.

151     EXT. HUNTER'S P.O.V. - DAY			   151

As he nears the edge of the precipice from which
Schaefer has fallen.  The Hunter in close pursuit does
not hesitate but LAUNCHES himself off the cliff in
a spectacular LEAP, streaking downward towards the tops
of the trees that grow out from the canyon wall.

The Hunter tears through the canopy of the first tree,
the branches and leaves rushing past in a KALEIDOSCOPIC

The Hunter bounds off of one branch after another,
moving through the trees as an expert skier might
negotiate a series of downhill gates.

The Hunter leaps free of one tree, bounds across twenty
feet of open space to a large branch of a huge tree,
affording a good view of the river below.  From his
vantage point, looking down at the windening, slowing
expanse of river, Schaefer is nowhere to be seen.

152     EXT. SCHAEFER - DAY				 152

He is swept into a still FASTER CURRENT and is carried
helplessly downstream.  Boiling WHITEWATER appears.




152     CONTINUED:					   152

Out of control he is swept through a series of rapids,
pulling his further and further downstream until he is
finally ducked into the undertow and hurled over the
top of a six foot falls, driven deep underwater by the
pounding force of the water.

153     EXT. POOL AT BASE OF FALLS - DAY		     153

There is no sign of Schaefer.  Precious seconds pass.
Slowly, looking like a drowned rat, he surfaces, taking
a feeble breath.  He is nearly finished, his energy
sapped.  But the water is calm and a few strokes are
enough to carry him near the shore.  His feet hit

He tries to stand but pitches headfirst into the thick
MUD SLURRY at the river bank.  With his last ounce of
strength, he crawls, panting and gasping into a
sheltered mud OVERHANG, collapsing beside the exposed
ROOT-SYSTEM OF A DEAD TREE, his body completely covered
in thick, gray MUD.

Nearly unconscious, he raises his head and looks to the
opposite side of the river, scanning the bank.  There is
no sign of the Hunter.  He collapses in relief.  He's

Suddenly, the Hunter impacts the water, throwing up a
huge SPLASH.  He stands up in the waist deep water.  As
the water streams off of his body, the chameleon effect
rapidly changes, struggling to match the shifting color
patterns of the shimmering water.

His glaring yellow orbs stare directly at the spot where
Schaefer lies helplessly trapped.

The Hunter surges forward, relentlessly closing in on
this prey.

154     SCHAEFER						154

is frozen in terror, paralyzed with fear, his eyes
locked ontothe incredible creature that is about to
kill him.

155     EXT. HUNTER - DAY				   155

Closing rapidly, another ten feet.  He leaves the water
and walks through the mud, stopping, towering over



156     EXT. SCHAEFER'S P.O.V. - DAY			 156

As the Hunter's feet surge though the mud and stop,
three feet away.

157     EXT. SCHAEFER - DAY				 157

Realizing his life is about to end, closes his eyes,
awaiting the Hunter's killing blow.

158     EXT. HUNTER'S EYES - DAY			     158

The fierce yellow orbs look downward.

159     EXT. HUNTER'S P.O.V. - DAY			   159

He's looking directly at Schaefer, EXCEPT HE CAN'T

He can clearly see the EXPOSED ROOT-SYSTEM, but because
of the heavy mud blocking Schaefer's body heat, Schaefer
registers in the Hunter's vision as merely an indistinct
lump of clay, unrecognizable to the Hunter as a human

He scans the bank, searching, looking for heat sources.
Detecting none he moves on sounding a questioning TRILL
several times.

160     BACK TO SCENE/SCHAEFER			       160

disbelieving that he's still alive, opens one eye,
SEEING the Hunter's feet move away, his prehensile
spurs dragging in the mud.  He rounds a bend and
disappears, heading for the undergrowth.

Astonished, he tries to raise up on his hands but a
sudden jabbing pain in his shoulder causes him to
collapse, falling onto his side, unconscious in the

161     EXT. RIVER - DAY				    161

As a HUEY ATTACK HELICOPTER breaks over the top of the
ridge, diving forward, moving down the canyon.  The
chopper flares up into a holding pattern.

In the open doorway, a SOLDIER searches the top of
the canyon with binoculars.  Seeing no sign of life,
the chopper flies on, disappearing down the canyon

162     BACK TO SCENE/SCHAEFER			       162

lies unconscious in the mud, the distant SOUND of the
helicopter THRUMPING into the distance.



163     EXT. ANNA - DAY				     163

She runs into a clearing, stopping momentarily, gasping
for breath.  She is startled by a sudden movement
behind her.  She spins, looking.  There is nothing
there.  She runs on.

164     EXT. THE CANYON - DAY (DUSK)			 164

Schaefer GASPS as his eyes bolt open in fear.  As if
the Hunter were still attacking, Schaefer rolls to his
feet and runs, slogging through the THICK MUD, stumbling,
lunging forward, gasping for breath.

Schaefer spins and staggers backwards into a shallow
POOL, scuttling, crablike into the chest deep water.
Schaefer backs into the moss-covered wall by the
waterfall, looking for movement, regaining his senses.

As the water settles, he looks down, SEEING the image
of himself, reflected in the pool; his hair and face
covered in THICK CLAY.  He stares, mesmerized at the

He lifts his arm from the water, his fingers wiping the
MUD from his face, exposing a PATCH of SKIN.  He studies
the mud in his hand and then looks at the image of
himself in the water, SEEING the exposed skin.  HE
stares at it, a wave of realization rushing through
his mind.  He places the mud back on his face, again
looking at his image.

	You couldn't see me.

He looks up, out into the failing light, at the treeline
of the deepening forest, realizing that fate has given
him a fighting chance.  Slowly a look of vengeance and
hatred crosses over his face.

165     EXT. CLAY BANK - NIGHT			       165

Using his MACHETE he carves MAGNESIUM SHAVINGS from a
fire block into a pile of KINDLING.  He removes a match
from the hollow handle of the machete, also containing
He lights the shavings which burn with a brilliant white
light.  Schaefer shelters the fire with a banana leaf
until the flame dies down.  He feeds the fire with more
kindling, fanning it with a leaf.


Holding a three foot section of FIRE-HARDENED sapling
between his feet and shoulder, he scrapes the char
from the seasoned wood with his machete.




165-A   CONTINUED:					   165-A

He bends the bow and attaches a long piece of PIANO
WIRE to one end, carefully wrapping it for strength,
using strips of green tape to cover the sides of the
wire where the nock of the arrow will fit.

He attaches split quilled FEATHERS with fishing line to
an ARROW,  its tip fashioned into a series of barbs,
rubbing them to a polished hardness against a smooth
stone.  When finished he places the arrow on the ground
next to three other identical arrows.

	One chance, that's all.

166     EXT. CLAY BANK - NIGHT			       166

Schaefer is pounding a peeled root between two stones.
He pauses to drool saliva into the pulpy mass.  He
scrapes the milky substance onto a BANANA LEAF, mixing
it with a sticky SAP, holding it over the coals until
the mixture steams.

Schaefer coats the arrow tips with the sticky poison,
holding them over the coals until the sap bubbles and
smokes.  He spins the arrows in his hands, blowing on
the tips to cool and harden the mixture.

Using the tip of his machete, he pries open the casing
of one of the 40MM grenades, discarding the warhead.  He
dumps the PROPELLANT POWDER from the shell onto a leaf,
mixing that with a mound of MAGNESIUM SHAVINGS.

He opens the narrow, tight roll of GAUZE taken from the
first aid kit of the machete handle, fluffing it into a
large, loose BUNDLE, the size of a baseball.  He pours
the powder-mixture into the gauze, mixing it into the

He transfers the ball of explosive ladened gauze to a
pliable DRY LEAF, closing it into a bundle, binding it
at the top with a long strand of jungle-grass.

He twists the remaining gauze around a MATCH, leaving
the head exposed, forming a self-striking FUSE.

He coats the fuse with SAP and then thickly covers it
with more powder from the 40MM grenade.  He pokes the
fuse down into the leaf.  Taking a long strand of JUNGLE
GRASS he makes a large loop, tying it onto the grenade,
slipping the loop and grenade over his head.




166     CONTINUED:					   166

Finally, using several sections of BAMBOO of differing
diameters, he fashions a crude, anti-personnel
SPEAR-BOMB, a BANG-STICK like weapon, using the
sharpened TONGUE from his belt buckle for a FIRING PIN
and a 40MM GRENADE from his belt pouch as an explosive

167     EXT. RIVER'S EDGE - NIGHT			    167

Schaefer appears, he has covered him entire body with a
variety of CLAYS and OCHERS, creating a mottled, EARTHEN

Holding his weapons in one hand, he moves up the canyon,
ascending into a rising boulder field.

167-A   EXT. BOULDER FIELD - NIGHT			   167-A

Where the river flows into a series of falls and pools,
surrounded by massive boulders and table top rocks,
their crevices jammed with large amounts of DRIFTWOOD
swept down at high water from the forests above.

On a flattened section of rock, Schaefer drags a large
section of BRANCHES INTO VIEW, adding it to a growing
mound of FIREWOOD.  He kneels, tending to a pile of
DRIES GRASS, LEAVES and other tinder.  Using the last of
his precious matches, he sets fire to the tinder, gently
coaxing the tiny blaze into a slowly consumming FIRE,
flames starting to lick upward through the dry wood.

He stands, staring into the rapidly growing blaze.  He
turns, facing the canyon rim, raising his weapons in one
hand.  From the depths of his soul, a SOUND emerges;
primitive and visceral, as if from an animal in pain.

He throws back his head and SHOUTS.

168     EXT. CANYON RIM - NIGHT			      168

A hundred feet below, Schaefer stands in the boulder
field, his mud coated body bathed in RED FIRELIGHT,
looking like a fierce, primitive warrior; a timeless,
prehistoric sight, his long and WAILING CRY, ECHOING
endlessly through the canyon.

169     EXT. HUNTER'S SHIP - NIGHT			   169

Backlit by the LIGHT of the open door, the Hunter's
head, in three-quarter profile, his eyes gleaming, rears
INTO VIEW, looking up at the sky, HEARING Schaefer's cry.




169     CONTINUED:					   169

Responding with a low HISS, he turns back, raising in
one hand his weapon, in the other a U-shaped SHARPENING
DEVICE.  As he passes the weapon through the device, it
FLASHES into life, a deep, HARMONIC HUM emitted as the
blade grows with energy, growing hotter, hotter and
HOTTER with each stroke.  He draws the blade now WHITE-HOT
through the device for the last stroke.  He lifts
it, testing its balance, the WHITE-HOT blade
illuminating his alien face.

170-						    OUT     170-
177							    177

178     EXT. HUNTER'S P.O.V. - JUNGLE - NIGHT		178

Emerging from his camp, the Hunter swings into the
nearby tree line, moving to the uppermost branches.
The Hunter travels silently from tree to tree, arriving
at the canyon rim where far below he SEES in the
canyon, the BONFIRE, a leaping, shifting, multi-colored
collage of HEAT WAVES and FLARES, luring him onward.

179     SCHAEFER						179

hidden back within the deep notch of several large
LOGS and broken trees, in the river canyon.  Below
him, on the rock plateau, is the bonfire, illuminating
in SHIFTING PATTERNS of LIGHT, the awaiting arena of

His eyes shift, trancelike, moving from side to side,
watching the approaches to the fire below.  His senses
are alert; his nerves on a wire edge.

180     EXT. HUNTER - NIGHT				 180

His SHADOW-FORM descending through the canyon, a
rippling movement of grays and blacks, passing through
the shifting light patterns on the rocks, cast by the
growing bonfire below.

181     EXT. HUNTER'S P.O.V. - NIGHT			 181

His eyes probe the canyon, drawn to the swirling
patterns of HEAT given off by the gaseous COMBUSTION
of the bonfire.

182     EXT. HUNTER - NIGHT				 182

Continues on, moving silently down through the canyon.



183     SCHAEFER						183

sits motionless, nearly invisible in his mud camouflage
amid the darkness of the logs.

Suddenly, over the CRACKLING of the FIRE, the BUZZING,
CLICKING of INSECTS, and the CROAKING of FROGS, suddenly

Slowly, painfully he draws the bow to full arch, his
wounded shoulder trembling, the BLOOD beginning to seep
through the bandage.

The bow straining at full draw, Schaefer stares intently,
concentrating, searching for the Hunter's form in the
dancing light below.

183-A   EXT. THE HUNTER - NIGHT			      183-A

Like a giant insect, drops from above, fifteen feet
above Schaefer, his steel-like spurs digging deep into
the log.

183-B   EXT. SCHAEFER - NIGHT			        183-B

He freezes at the sound of the Hunter dropping, his
eyes wide with fear.  The slightest movement will bring
an instant attack from the Hunter behind him.  But to
wait, his back exposed.

183-C   EXT. THE HUNTER - NIGHT			      183-C

Jumps from the log above and to Schaefer's left, onto
a boulder, gaining a better vantage point of the arena
and fire below.  He raises his weapon, his EYES
glistening in the dim light, searching.  A quiet HISS
emerges from his mouth.

183-D   EXT. SCHAEFER - NIGHT			        183-D

Spins and fires at the movement of the Hunter.

184     EXT. ARROW - NIGHT				  184

Flies into the night, lodging into a BRANCH of an
exposed tree, just missing the Hunter's head.

In a blur, the Hunter's arm streaks downward, a dull
flash of light leaving his fingers as he fires the
weapon, the projectile STREAKING downward, EXPLODING
into the log, inches from Schaefer, sending a SHOWER
of wood chips and bark, flying in every direction.



185     SCHAEFER						185

in a flash, is up and running, clutching his weapons,
leaping from boulder to boulder.  He jumps down into the
lighted area below, landing hard, rolling into the
protective shadows of the rocks, putting the loping fire
between he and the Hunter's position on the rocks above.

He moves forward, darting to look backwards before
leaping off the lip of the table rock into the boulder
field below, a flat plane littered by weirdly shaped,
water-erroded rocks, forming a giant stone AMPITHEATER.
Shadows leap and dance across the boulders, cast by the
bonfire from the plateau above.

Schaefer crouches between two large boulders, quietly
breathing through clenched teeth, feeling the pain of
his now freely bleeding shoulder wound.

185-A   EXT. HUNTER - NIGHT				 185-A

A nightmarish silhouette appearing for an instant on the
rim of the plateau above.

185-B   EXT. SCHAEFER - NIGHT			        185-B

Over the SOUNDS of the FIRE and the softly flowing
RIVER, distinguishes a NEW SOUND, one that brings fear
and a savage determination to his heart:  the rhythmical
CLICK-SCRAPE, CLICK-SCRAPE of the Hunter's feet, moving
over the rocks, somewhere above him.

Drawing back on the bow, Schaefer moves around the
boulder to his left, heading towards the sound of the

186-						    OUT     186-
197							    197


REVEALED in flashes of strobing light, pauses at the
juncture of several towering rocks.

He stands, erect, tilting his head slowly, turning it
from side to side, his ears trying to orientate to the
diversity of SOUNDS reflecting off the circular walls,
enclosing the boulder field.

199     INT. HUNTER'S P.O.V. - NIGHT			 199

His vision, accustomed to another spectrum, has little
available heat to register vivid images of the inert,
lifeless forms of the stones.  He SEES instead, a world
of soft, ill-defined shapes in a pale MAGENTA field of
flickering heat.



200     INT. SCHAEFER - NIGHT			        200

Creeping forward, carefully placing one foot in front
of the other, suddenly stops, hearing the CLICK-SCRAPE,
CLICK-SCRAPE, now on his right.

Starting to move in this new direction, he stops again,
HEARING the sound now directly across from him.
Listening, he hears the sound again from yet another
direction, the sound ECHOING in the natural ampitheater
of rock.

Schaefer, uncertain of where to turn, waits.  Suddenly
he crouches and freezes, HEARING the unbelievable SOUND
of a HUMAN VOICE, softly echoing through the

		(o.s.; filtered;
		in Spanish)
	Look out, behind you!!!

Schaefer spins, his breath catching at the sound of
Anna's voice.  Wide-eyed, straining, he waits, hearing
only the muted FLOWING of water, the HISSING and POPPING
of the dying fire above, the shadows growing longer,
darker with each minute.

And then again, Anna's VOICE.

		(o.s.; in
	...Look out, behind you!

		(to himself)

Tracelike he moves towards the sound.

201     THE HUNTER					   201

his head canted, throat distended, utters another

202     SCHAEFER						202

moving towards the space between two boulders from which
the VOICE seems to emanate.




202     CONTINUED:					   202


203     THE HUNTER					   203

his ears now directed towards the SOUND of Schaefer's
voice, his slowly approaching FOOTSTEPS, raises his

204     SCHAEFER						204

pauses before the opening of the passageway.  All is
silent.  He hesitates to enter.  Listeneing.  He starts
to move and then hears a NEW VOICE:

		(o.s.; Mac's
	Dillon, over here...

Schaefer, horrified at the sound of the dead man's
voice, backs quickly into the space between a boulder
and the high rock wall of the ampitheater.


His feet moving quietly over the rock, the shadow-light
deepening with the dying fire above, closing in.

205-A   EXT. SCHAEFER - NIGHT			        205-A

Bow drawn, trapped against the rock, HEARING the sound
of the Hunter approaching from the left, now the
right, is helpless, not knowing where to fire, the
Hunter's deadly strike only an instant away.

Still holding the bang-stick in his bow hand, he
carefully releases the draw on the string, reaching
to his neck for the FLASH-GRENADE.  With painstaking
care he removes the grenade from his neck.

Focusing on the rocks before him and the still
approaching SOUND, he reaches down with the grenade,
gripping with his fingertips the matchhead fuse,
placing it against the rocks at his side.

With a sudden jerk of his hand he strikes and throws
the grenade, snatching up the bang-stick with his
good hand.




205-A   CONTINUED:					   205-A

The matchhead SPUTTERS as the grenade flies through the
air, an instant later a blinding, WHITE FLASH of light
illuminates the ampitheater...

In that instant Schaefer SEES above him and to his left,
the HUNTER, poised on top of a rock, his weapon raised,
about to strike!  Momentarily blinded by the flash of
light, the Hunter's head recoils to the side.

Darkness swallows the image of the Hunter, but in that
second, Schaefer seizes his advantage, hurling the
bang-stick spear.

206-						    OUT     206-
213							    213

214     INT. THE SPEAR - NIGHT			       214

It smashes into the boulder at the Hunter's feet.  The
Hunter leaps as the grenade DETONATES, shrapnel tearing
into his body.

With a terrifying SCREAM of pain and anger, the Hunter
clutches frantically at the WOUNDS in his neck and
chest.  Another bloodcurdling SCREAM OF RAGE and the
Hunter is gone.

215     INT. WATERFALL - NIGHT			       215

Cascades over the rocks, fed by a small stream running
through the ravine.  A pile of BOULDERS breaks the
falls, filling the area with an everconstant MIST.

Schaefer appears, holding the bow and arrow, following
the LUMINOUS BLOOD TRAIL of the Hunter over the rock.

Moving behind the falls, Schaefer's body is briefly
soaked by the water, the hardened and CAMOUFLAGE
beginning to dissolve, running off his body.  He
continues on, slowly, cautiously following the blood

216     INT. TABLE TOP BOULDER - NIGHT		       216

Next to the flowing stream, surrounded by an open area
of rock.

Schaefer, smeared with blood and sweat, his clay and
ochre camouflage partially washed away, climbs up a log
onto the boulder.  Oblivious to the searing pain in his




216     CONTINUED:					   216

shoulder, he breathes in hot, powerful exchanges, his
eyes wide and glowing with vengeance.

	Bleed, you bastard.

His bow down, Schaefer follows the blood trail across
the rock, edging alongside a huge vertical boulder.
The blood trail stops.

He takes another step forward, past a darkened ALCOVE...

Schaefer spins, SEEING in the alcove the SURPRISED
Hunter whirl and spring towards him...

Schaefer in a bound closes the distance, savagely
kicking the Hunter's arm.  The WEAPON flies from the
Hunter's hand CLATTERING to the rock.

Before he can recover, Schaefer follows with a karate
kick to the chest, hurling the Hunter to the ground,
his back exposed.

In a flash, Schaefer is standing over the Hunter, the
bow drawn, poised, the blood from his open wound
dripping onto the Hunter's back.

The Hunter slowly rolls onto his back, REVEALING his
face, his eyes bleached white in shock from the loss of
blood.  The Hunter's body, rippled out of control,
trying desperately to orientate itself to the

	Who the hell are you...?

217     EXT. HUNTER'S P.O.V. OF SCHAEFER - NIGHT	    217

Schaefer's body, looms over him, MOTTLED and STREAKED
from his exposed skin, blood oozing from the shoulder
wound, his eyes like black sockets in his almost
skull-like face.  Seen from this perspective, Schaefer
is a frightening, horrible visage.

218     THE HUNTER					   218

shudders, GASPING hungrily for air, strugging to speak.
From his throat, Schaefer HEARS the feeble, distorted
efforts of the Hunter, at first garbled,
incomprehensible and then, slowly, chillingly, taking
on the timbre and quality of his OWN VOICE.




218     CONTINUED:					   218

	...the hell...
		(nearly perfect)

The Hunter's strength seems to fade even more...

Then, suddenly, with the last of his diminishing
strength, he lashes out with one arm, activating the
lethal, razor sharp SPURS on his wrists.

The Hunter's coiled leg kicks upward with incredible
force, his terrible spur ripping into Schaefer's thigh,
hurling Schaefer into the air, flipping him over,
sending him crashing to his back into the shallow pool
of water, momentarily losing his bow.  He flounders
desperately in the water, searching for the bow.  He
finds it just as...

The Hunter rises slowly to his feet, GASPING desperately
for breath.  He inhales deeply, hungrily, gaining
strength with each breath.

Schaefer looks from the pool to SEE the Hunter, raising
his weapon to throw.

In one totally instinctual movement, Schaefer draws
back on the arrow to its very tip and fires.

The arrow, with a deadly THUD, penetrates deeply into
the Hunter's neck.  Another bloodcurdling SCREAM of RAGE
as the Hunter clutches his throat, dropping his weapon.
An instant later and the Hunter is gone.

219     EXT. LOG BRIDGE - NIGHT (PRE-DAWN)		   219

Emerging onto a huge log leading to the rim of the
canyon, Schaefer holding the Hunter's weapon, pauses
several times, finding more traces of the Hunter's
blood, the deep WOUND in his thigh flowing heavily.
He continues across the log and climbs the bank,
following the traces into the jungle.



220     EXT. JUNGLE - PRE-DAWN			       220

Moving along the rim of the coulee, Schaefer follows
the thick, orange blobs hanging on leaves and spent on
the forest floor.

Too weak to move through the trees, the Hunter has
left a SWATH of trampled grasses, broken twigs and
branches in his headlong retreat from Schaefer:  the
Hunter turned Hunted.


Powering upward from the canyon, the WATERFALL in the
b.g., clear the rim, racing along at treetop height,
heading towards the island promontory.

222     EXT. HUNTER'S P.O.V. - CAMP -PRE-DAWN		222

Staggering into the clearing, bleeding severely.  The
Hunter is rapidly losing his camouflage ability, his
skin turning a PALE GREEN, flexing and pulsing in
shock.  The glow of light from the ENERGY FIELD
reflecting off the spreading apron of BLOOD flowing
from his wound.

With trembling hands he grasps the arrow and breaks
it, pulling the shaft from his neck.  He screams in

223     EXT. GLEN - PRE-DAWN				223

Schaefer follows the blood trail, deeper into the
incredibly dense vegetation, ripping aside the heavy
growth, plunging onward.

Before him, covering a narrow passageway, is a huge
SPIDER WEB, intricate, four feet across.  Schaefer
starts to sweep aside the web.  With a sharp intake
of breath, he halts, inches from the wed.  Something
is wrong.

Examining the web closer he sees not silken threads
but a hard and shiny network of HAIR-FINE WIRE: A TRAP.

He backs up, picking up a hefty branch from the ground.
He swings the branch with a mighty heave, clenching
his teeth in pain.  The branch sails end over end
into the web impacting the strands.  A metallic SNAP
is HEARD; a high-pitches WHINE and the log is violently
severed, the pieces flying in opposite directions with
great speed.




223     CONTINUED:					   223

Schaefer runs on, again picking up the blood traces of
the fleeing Hunter.

224     EXT. HUNTER'S CAMP				  224

At the edge of the site.  He SEES the Hunter staggering
through the foliage.

Schaefer starts after him but then stops, dumbfounded
by the incredible images that crash in on him:
TRANSLUCENT HUMAN SKINS stretched over frames, the hair
of the attached scalps moving lightly in the wind;
SKINNED BODIES, some lying on the ground, others hung
from the trees, like Hopper and his men were.

He turns back, SEEING the Hunter as he passes through
the shimmering distortion of a FORCEFIELD enveloping
the forest.  Within the force field he SEES the vague,
nearly transparent OUTLINE of the Hunter's ship.

He approaches it, wide-eyed, his senses reeling with
astonishment and rage.

From within the force field, a PASSAGE WAY of BLUE LIGHT
appears, the Hunter's form backlit as he ascends the
RAMP to his spacecraft.

225-						    OUT     225-
226							    226

227     THE HUNTER					   227

as he passes his hand through a light BEAM, the ship
instantly responds, as a low, TURBINELIKE HOWL is
HEARD, building slowly in volume and pitch.

228     SCHAEFER						228

in his weakened condition staggers forward, looking
up, SEEING the passage way of light diminish as the
door begins to close.

As rising HEAT WAVES begin to envelope the ship, the
Hunter stares out at Schaefer, the heat waves
increasing as the KEENING WHINE of the ship's drive
builds.  He enters the force field, the door now
inches from closing.

On the ground, nearly obscured by the grass and leaves,
Schaefer SEES the Hunter's WEAPON, lying where he
dropped it in his desperate flight to escape.




228     CONTINUED:					   228

Schaefer grabs up the weapon and holds it.  How the
hell does it work?...He squeezes the handle of the
weapon feeling it resist.  Nothing happens.

With the last ounce of his strength, and with a BELLOW
of RAGE, his arm muscles bulging, he crushes down on
the handle...

In a FLASH of blue-white light, the weapon becomes

Schaefer raises the weapon, sensing its power and

In the final seconds before the door closes, Schaefer,
with a triumphant SCREAM, fires the weapon...

The weapon, flaring with deadly energy, drops and turns
sideways, accelerating through the door and into the

229     INT. SPACECRAFT - DAY			        229

The weapon impacts the Hunter, his head EXPLODING in
a fountain of orange blood and pale green tissue.

The weapon continues on, burying itself into the energy
field, bolts of plasma-energy begin arcing from the
force field.

Schaefer falls forward onto his hands and knees,
staring at the Hunter's ship.  The SOUND of the
hyper-drive continues to increase, as the ship begins
to tremble.


As suddenly the instrument panel goes wild, gauges
spinning, digital readouts racing out of control.
The SOUND of the turbine faltering, changing pitch.
The pilot lurches forward with the stick, fighting
for control.

231     EXT. HUNTER'S CAMP - DAY			     231

The multi harmonic whine of the Hunter's ship is
still building as the ground begins to shake.

Schaefer, realizing that the ship is going to explode,
and ignoring the pain of his shoulder and leg, runs
desperately, searching for cover.  He sprints for




231     CONTINUED:					   231

the edge of the clearing, diving over the embankment
just as:

A blinding purple FLASH blows the ship to pieces.

232     EXT. HELICOPTER - COCKPIT - DAY		      232

Enveloped in the flash of intense light.  CRIES of
surprise fill the ship as the SHOCK-WAVE hits the
chopper, heeling it hard over to one side.

Below, the concentric waves of energy race outward
from the center of the blast, an unearthly sight, like
the miniature birth of a star.

The helicopter suddenly regains control, its power

	Holy, fuck, what was

	Orbit right...check it out!

The helicopter levels out and heads toward the smoking,
devastated site of the blast.

233     EXT. HUNTER'S CAMP - DAY			     133

The jungle has been completely transformed.  No longer
lush and verdant, the area is clear-cut, two feet
above the ground, covered in FINE WHITE, smoldering
ASH.  Amongst the shattered stumps, debris from the
ship, bright as magnesium flares, burns with exotic

If the f.g., Schaefer, a living dead-man, streaked
with the alien ash, rises up from a shallow depression,
staring dumbstruck at the site.

Breaking in low over the treetops, the HELICOPTERS
flare up into position, one preparing to land.

As the chopper descends, the crew, standing in the
door way, stare transfixed at the devastation, their
eyes trying to penetrate the dense white smoke.

As the helicopter slowly descends, its propwash creating
a raging storm, Schaefer materializes from the SWIRLING
SMOKE AND ASH, his features taking form as he
approaches, his naked body covered in mud, blood and




As the chopper, emerging from the vortex, settles
towards the ground where the spacecraft once stood.
Through the distorted veil, the helicopter, bristling
with WEAPONS, VISORED and HELMETED MEN, now covered
with WHITE ASH, looks like a landing spacecraft.

235     EXT. HELICOPTER - DAY			        235

The door gunner swings the M-60 into firing position,
pointing it at Schaefer.  He racks the bolt, loading
a round.

The crewmen look tense, frightened.

Anna, standing next to the door gunner, stares at the
strange creature before her, narrowing her eyes,
uncertain.  Is there something familiar about the

236     SCHAEFER						236

stands in the clearing, staring at the helicopter and
the array of weapons pointed at him.  He looks dazed,
like a man making contact with members of an alien
race, for the first time.

237     THE HELICOPTER				      237

hovers low to the ground, the tension inside building
as Schaefer approaches.

More weapons swing into position.  Fingers tighten on
triggers.  Suddenly Anna recognizes the figure.
Realizing the danger she holds up her hands, shouting


238     EXT. HELICOPTERS - JUNGLE - DAY		      238

Flash overhead, heading across the trackless jungle,
their rotors THUMPING like heavy machine gun fire.

239     INT. HELICOPTER - DAY			        239

Schaefer, a blanket over his shoulders, still in the
remains of his mud camouflage, his body laced with
deep cuts; his chest and shoulder caked with dried
blood, is seated on a bench in the cargo hold.



REVISED - "HUNTER" - 4/17/86			 102
239     CONTINUED:					   239

Near the cockpit are General Philips, an ARMY MEDIC,
two MACHINE GUNNERS.  They look at Schaefer in awe.

The Medic, holding an open FIELD KIT, a syringe and
bandages, turns to Philips.

		(shaking his head)
	Looks like he's been through
	hell...can't believe he's
	still alive.  What the hell
	went on down there?

	If it hadn't been for her, he'd
	be dead now.  That story she
	told us...I still can't believe

He looks at Anna, her eyes meeting his, as if asking
for an explanation.  She looks at him a moment before
turning back to Schaefer, staring at him as if he were
risen from the dead.

She looks into Schaefer's face, Schaefer returning her
look, recognition passing between them.  Anna extends
her hand.  Schaefer slowly reaches out, touching her
fingers, then clasping her hand.

Schaefer turns his eyes to stare out the open door,
beyond the passing jungle below, out to the heavens.
He turns back, looking at Anna, a faint smile crossing
his face...they made it.


Pull away and head towards the distant, green horizon.

						FADE OUT

		     THE END
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