FLEMING by Damian StevensonWARNER BROS. / APPIAN WAY
POV THROUGH CROSS HAIRSA white dot moves in from frame-left and centers on frame-right. Iris veins surround the dot to fill the frame.A MAN enters the dot, walking from right to left, the sightsmoving to the center-frame with him. He jumps to face us,pointing a machine-gun and firing. The bullets spell: FLEMINGAnother burst of lead shreds the title. Revealing...INT. HOTEL ROOM - NIGHT...a MAN and WOMAN making love.He is LT. IAN FLEMING, 32, blue-grey eyes, handsome, lean andmuscular, with coldly cruel, sharply-edged features.The bare-skinned bombshell beneath him is ANN O’NEILL, aslender, silkily-sexy brunette in her twenties, with gentleeyes that have warmth and intelligence and humor.The RADIO is on, blasting American JAZZ.SUPERIMPOSE: LONDON, 1940.The urgent sound of TYPING suddenly makes itself known. ANN Oh, God. Not now. Can’t you ignore it? Please.Fleming lowers the radio volume and then cranes his neck toread the message spewing forth from his ticker-tape machine:...BATTERSEA AIR BASE... 05:30 HRS.. COTTON. FLEMING Sorry, darling, duty calls.He goes over to a striking oil painting of ST. GEORGE SLAYINGTHE DRAGON, takes it down and twirls open the wall safehidden behind it, reaches inside for his Colt .38. ANN How long will you be gone this time?Fleming squints his eye down the gun barrel, spins it. FLEMING Hard to say. (CONTINUED)
2.CONTINUED:He slots the .38 into a leather shoulder holster. ANN Will I see you tomorrow?Fleming SLAMS the safe shut. FLEMING I never make plans that far ahead. ANN Goddamnit, Ian! It’s been six months now, stop treating me like one of your floozies! FLEMING (searching) Where is it?Ann nods at a bulky overnight bag. He goes to it and unzipsit, rifles through the wad of documents stashed inside. ANN Don’t I get anything?Fleming scans the sheaf of press papers, all marked“CONFIDENTIAL”, collects the useful ones and pockets them. FLEMING Rumor has it the P.M.’s going to give France a week to surrender her navy to us or else the RAF’s going to bomb the boats in harbor, whether there are French sailors on board or not.Ann finds her cigarettes, fishes out a Chelsea, reachesacross the bed for Fleming’s Ronson lighter and snaps it. ANN When does this information hit the streets?She gets out of bed and wraps a very sheer slip around hernaked frame, sashays over to her typewriter, excited. FLEMING In a week or so. You’re going to have to sit on it until then.Ann sags, deflated. ANN A week! Some scoop.
3.EXT. STREET CORNER - NIGHTWe cut to a shot of FLEMING at his window from the rain-washed streets below then REVERSE POV to reveal......two trench-coated NAZIS loitering under a street lamp,smoking, their faces partly obscured by umbrellas.INT. HOTEL ROOM - NIGHTFleming clocks the Germans, acts cool, keeps one eye on themas he carefully re-hangs the painting of St. George. ANN Teddy proposed. FLEMING (scoffs) Again? ANN Yes, again. He owns his own newspaper, Ian. I’d be Lady Rothermere.Fleming dons his Royal Navy jacket, checking in a mirror toensure that the .38 pistol under his arm is not visible. FLEMING Is this about the Austrian girl? ANN Austrian girl, Swedish girl, German girl... German!! Pig!She goes to the drinks cabinet and refills her cocktail. FLEMING Will you stop? That was all before I met you. (under his breath) Generally speaking...He dashes for the door, swiping a hat off a hat-rack. ANN Wait! Ian!But Fleming is already gone, the door sweeping shut behindhim as her drink CRASHES into it.EXT. LONDON STREET - NIGHTFleming appears, his breath misty in the chill night air. (CONTINUED)
4.CONTINUED:He strides past an alleyway. His elongated shadow is thrownonto the wall as he stalks past. A beat, then......two more silhouettes hit the bricks.The Germans quicken their pace, making a CLATTER with theirboot-heels on the bumpy, cobblestone street.CLOSE ON -- FLEMING, strolling fast, purposefully. FLEMING (muttering) Six months!He comes to a garage door, slots a key into the lock andsubtly leans in to see the two Nazis reflected back in thekey’s metal. He pivots his wrist, pulls open the door. FLEMING (cont’d) Miss me?We now SEE what he sees: an exquisite Alfa Romeo 6C!Next to it: a shabby but dependable two-seater Buick.EXT. GARAGE - NIGHTSilence. We’re watching from around a corner, from the twoNAZIS’ POV when suddenly...The Buick peels out of the garage with Fleming at the wheeland races off into the night with a loud, guttural ROAR.The Germans scramble into a Mercedes and SCREECH off,fishtailing, causing two passing motorists to collide.Fleming careens onto and over a roundabout, narrowly avoidinga sleek, new-looking Jaguar slowly circling the obstacle.The Nazis follow Fleming’s path and BULLDOZE into the Jag,RAMMING it hard, sending it spinning off wildly. GERMAN SPY #1 (shooting) Schnell! Schnell!POP! POP! Ricocheting slugs SHATTER storefront windows.A BOBBY, on patrol duty, swinging his truncheon, sees thechase and TRILLS his whistle at an idling POLICE WAGON whichzooms across the road to him. He hops on the side.The WAIL of POLICE SIRENS as COPPERS join the pursuit.
5.EXT. LONDON STREET - NIGHTThe city is war-ravaged, roads pocked with impact cratersbeside charred buildings and shelled, derelict homes.Fleming and the Nazis speed toward Tower Bridge which startsto slowly scissor in half for a tall barge to pass.Fleming FLOORS IT, rocketing up the rising bridge half, hiscar wheels SKIDDING, eating road. CRACK!! A shower ofBULLETS splinter into his rear window, cobwebbing it.He gets the torque necessary to propel the car over thebridge gap and soars over the water, over the HORN-blaringriver barge, landing adroitly on the other side, sparksflying, when... everything abruptly halts. FREEZE FRAME.We HEAR the SOUND of CALYPSO MUSIC come over.EXT. GOLDEN EYE, JAMAICA - EVENINGThe island MUSIC swells as we PAN over the Caribbean Sea atsunset, DRIFTING SLOWLY to a white marquee pitched on a grasspromontory jutting out above the sparkling water.A lone FIGURE stands between the tent and the sea, on thecliff’s edge, outlined by the setting sun. MOVING IN...It is FLEMING, thoughtfully sipping a glass of Dom ‘29. FLEMING I must be the only man alive who misses the war.He’s older, still handsome, but his eyes seem more grey thenblue now and his face, seen in the dim of twilight, betrays acertain inner weariness.SUPERIMPOSE: JAMAICA, 1952.We HEAR the SOUND of FOOTFALLS. Someone CALLS OUT. VOICE (O.S.) Ian! Ian, darling!Fleming turns to see Ann stumbling his way, hoisting the hemof her chic dress up as she negotiates the clifftop grass. ANN There you are, I’ve been looking all over! I thought you’d done a runner, you know, borrowed Coral’s boat and took off for South America. (CONTINUED)
6.CONTINUED: FLEMING I tried. Outboard motor stalled. Again. ANN Ha ha.She thumps him playfully in the gut. He feels it.INT. MARQUEE - NIGHTThe Calypso band is really hopping, forcing even the mostuptight BRITS to the dance floor. Amid the merry mayhem wediscover Fleming and Ann. Dancing the night away.EXT. VERANDAH, GOLDEN EYE - NIGHTCHINK! Two brandy snifters hit. PULL BACK TO REVEAL...Fleming is having a nightcap with GRAHAM GREENE, 48, rail-thin, dapper and urbane. The original lapsed Catholic. FLEMING Bottoms up! GRAHAM Cheers, old boy!They are on the verandah of Golden Eye, Fleming’s modestJamaican hideaway, on a bluff overlooking the sea, under asky studded with pulsing, scintillating constellations.A bikini-clad GIRL walks by dreamily on the beach below. GRAHAM (cont’d) Nice view.Fleming sighs. Graham hums “Here Comes the Bride.” GRAHAM (cont’d) Twenty-four hours to go. Tick- tock... FLEMING Why is it so hard? Commitment, I mean. GRAHAM Who’s to really say? Maybe it’s just you, Fleming. Everyone thinks of changing the world but no one ever thinks of changing himself. (off Fleming’s look) Write about your problem. That’s what art’s for. (MORE) (CONTINUED)
7.CONTINUED: GRAHAM (contd) Some problems a drink won’t solve. Trust me, I know. Why do you think I write?He swirls his enormous brandy, quaffs. FLEMING Problem? What problem? GRAHAM Ha! The spy who never grew up. That’s you! Still living in the 1940s.Fleming looks at him, startled slightly by his X-ray vision. FLEMING Actually, I’ve been thinking about my old Naval Intelligence days. Perhaps enough time has passed for me to put it all in perspective. GRAHAM You see! FLEMING I should bloody well tell what happened, with some slight... embellishments. The spy story to end all spy stories. My exploits minus the boring parts. Fast cars, guns, gadgets and girls galore.Graham mulls this. FLEMING (cont’d) Well? What do you think? GRAHAM Get writing!Fleming seems thrilled by the endorsement. The glint in hiseye taking us BACK TO...EXT. LONDON - 1940 - NIGHTA loud CRUNCH OF METAL as Fleming’s car alights on the otherside of Tower Bridge, SPARKS flying, while BEHIND HIM......the Germans brace themselves to scale the now too wide gapas the rising bridge half they are on becomes perpendicular,forcing them to back down, tires BURNING, coming to a stop onthe embankment where numerous metropolitan POLICEMEN await. COPPER #1 Hello, hello.
8.INT. BUICK - NIGHTFleming smiles slyly to himself, executes a graceful, almostballetic U-turn and zooms off into the night.EXT. BATTERSEA AIR BASE - DAWNA stark sign reads “NO TRESPASSING, MINISTRY OF DEFENSE.”PULL BACK TO REVEAL:The sign rests atop 20 ft high fencing garnished by curlingconcertina wire. Lookout towers on each corner inhabited byGUARDS. Tanks parked about amidst rows of idling RAF planes.LOOKING DOWN, from afar, we spy TWO MEN flashing papers toPERSONNEL at the guardhouse before entering the base.INT. BATTERSEA AIR BASE - DAYWe FOLLOW BEHIND a PILOT and a MECHANIC as they briskly crossthe base, snapping salutes to uniformed PERSONNEL. A NEWANGLE reveals their faces now as they come to a row ofnumbered plane hangars. The Mechanic is, of course, Fleming.The Pilot is CPT. SYDNEY COTTON, 38, a flabby, floridAustralian ex-bush pilot who somehow radiates charisma. FLEMING Did you tell anyone what we’re doing? Two Krauts tried following me here. COTTON What? No, mate. How could I? I don’t even know what we’re doing. Other than stealing a plane. FLEMING Commandeering, we’re commandeering a plane. This is it, Hangar 12.He snaps opens his tool box and eyes an array of gizmos,selects a probe peeler with a flat, upturned end.He slots the peeler into the ID card reader and jostles it. FLEMING (cont’d) We’re headed south over the channel, climbing 18,000 feet for twenty-four miles ending 43 degrees north and 23 degrees east of Marseilles. (CONTINUED)
9.CONTINUED: COTTON (does the math) That’s cutting it close fuel-wise.The lock SPRINGS open. They slip inside, passing under ametal plaque embossed with the words “GROUND CREW ONLY!”INT. HANGAR - DAYRAF MECHANICS hammer and tinker away at planes which havetheir engines open, parts exposed.Fleming and Cotton stride confidently toward a sleek MosquitoDH-98 recon craft. Fleming tries his best to suppress hisboyish glee upon beholding the sleek reconnaissance craft.He methodically unrolls a coil of black electrical cord andfires up an electromagnetically-powered nail gun, ATTACKS theplane while Cotton pops the engine and checks the fuel. COTTON You’re gonna have to tell me how you managed to charm that secretary at the front gate.The valves in the nail gun HISS as Fleming pauses. FLEMING Trade secret. (nods at the wing) Tighten those ailerons, we’re flying above radar, remember. That’s a ceiling of 20,000 feet. COTTON Aye, aye, skip...Fleming resumes his loud riveting, DROWNING Cotton out.EXT. AIRPLANE HANGAR - DAYA curvaceous SECRETARY, 17, is marching angrily toward thehangar with two young, very gung-ho armed SAS GUARDS. SECRETARY The mechanic said they were with the 615th. I knew he was lying, you could see it in his eyes. (pauses, remembering) Which were extremely blue. I’ve never seen such blueness before! (blushes) The scoundrel! (CONTINUED)
10.CONTINUED: SAS #1 Don’t worry, luv, we’ll sort him out. (racks rifle) Right Nigel?Before SAS #2/NIGEL can respond the hangar’s twin doors SLAMopen and the Mosquito ROARS out, blowing the Secretary’sskirt up and blinding the Soldiers with swirling dust.Fleming cocks an eyebrow appreciatively at the disheveledGirl as she fights the strong blast from the plane’s spinningprops, having to use both her hands to keep her skirt down.The Soldiers level their rifles at the taxiing plane as......Cotton CRANKS the throttle and REACHES FOR THE SKY.EXT. SOUTH OF FRANCE - IN THE AIR - DAYThe Mosquito soars over the sunny south of France, bankinginto an elegant turn before swooping down to the coast.INT. MOSQUITO DH-98 - IN THE AIR - DAYCotton grasps the control column between his knees to light ahand-rolled cigarette while behind him......Fleming scans the skies for enemy planes and analyzesmarine maps, making mental notes of depths, bridges, powerlines, any other obstacles and anything unusual.SUPERIMPOSE: ...43 18’ N, 5 23’ E... MEDITERRANEAN SEA, 5 MILES SOUTH OF MARSEILLES... FRANCE.Cotton points down at a sleepy seaside fishing community. COTTON More tug-boats and trawlers. Five minutes, Skip, then back we go!Fleming is frantically rifling through sea charts. FLEMING Where did that bastard hide them? Take us over the next crest!Cotton jabs a gloved finger at the near-empty fuel gauge. COTTON Dicey, mate! FLEMING Do it! (CONTINUED)
11.CONTINUED:Cotton hesitates then tilts and snaps up over the ridge,shooting down its verdant slopes to see dazzling white.Sheer blankness. Literally, nothing.A reflective matter other than the glassy seawater hasrefracted back the sun creating a sheen of pure silver.Fleming whips off his goggles and crinkles his eyes, reachingfor his “N.I.D”-engraved Bausch & Lomb binocs as the glarebeneath them ebbs enough to reveal what looks like a man-madeatoll planted in the lagoon, obscured by vast furls of cloth. FLEMING (cont’d) Put her in cruise!Cotton kills the engine and drops alt. As the Mosquitodescends, the amorphous mass below coalesces into......THE FRENCH FLEET, partly camouflaged by massive swaths ofsilk and rippling tarpaulin and even aluminum sheetingmirroring back the sun to deceive aerial surveillance.Fleming reacts, getting peeks between the screens at......mammoth cruisers like the famous ALGIERS with it’ssophisticated torpedo bulkhead running from hull to armored-deck; Richelieu class battleships STRASBOURG & DUNKERQUE;destroyers MOGADOR and LE TIGRE. Mine sweepers.Fleming pulls on a lever, causing an optical instrument tocoolly retract out toward his face. He presses his eye intothe sights then pauses, apparently unsatisfied. FLEMING (cont’d) Closer, man! Whites of their eyes!Cotton tilts the wheel forward and they nose-dive.Fleming inches a finger closer to a button and draws a beadon the crew via the scopes. He brings a patch down over hisleft eye, cupping it, making his right eye and the sightsinto one. Then, slowly, almost painfully so, his fingertipfinds the trigger and gently brushes its edge.He is utterly concentrated, oblivious to the G-forcesshuddering into his cheeks, the plane’s deafening ROAR.SILENCE. We go ECU ON FLEMING’S IRIS then ADOPT HIS POV.POV THROUGH SIGHTS.French MARINERS appear in the cross-hairs hurtling for cover,radioing to shore, manning artillery posts, etc.Fleming delicately squeezes the trigger. (CONTINUED)
12.CONTINUED:We ZOOM ECU to the TRIGGER as it is depressed and CONTINUEMOVING FAST AND LOW along a black cable snaking from underthe trigger to the plane’s left wing where we DISCOVER......subminiature Minox lenses installed in the flaps.The camera motors stir to life, WHIRRING and CLICKING in afurious flurry of fluttering shutter SOUNDS.MINOX CAMERA’S POVHerky-jerky black and white shots of the fleet unspool. FLEMING (cont’d) Smile you miserable sods!Fleming keeps his finger on the remote shutter trigger whileCotton bobs and weaves around the massive, towering steelfunnels of the gargantuan STRASBOURG.Windmilling and snapping outrageous half turns beforerotating 360 degrees and ascending with a flourish. CUT TO:EXT. THE COMMANDANTE TESTE - ESTABLISHING - DAYA ring of security dinghies circle the COMMANDANTE TESTE, aheavily armed offensive seaplane tender capable of 20 knotsand purpose-built with five cranes, catapults and hangarsmade to stow up to 26 sea and fighter planes.There is a WHINE of hydraulics, a series of acceleratingpulleys and cables lurching into gear, as a small combatseaplane is carefully lowered onto the water by crane.INT. CAPTAIN’S QUARTERS, COMMANDANTE TESTE - DAYCLOSE ON ADM. FRANCOIS DARLAN, 61, the legendary French warhero. He has an interesting face, one etched with characterand experience.SUPERIMPOSE: ADMIRAL FRANCOIS DARLAN, HEAD OF THE FORCE D’ACTION NAVALE, FRENCH NAVY.We ROAM ABOUT his cabin... The walls are festooned with warnotices, display cases housing medals, antique maps showingFrance during the time of her empire with vast territoriesspread across continents, and sepia photos of a handsome,dashing young Darlan at the height of his fame in WW I.Installed into the port wall is a MATRIX OF OXYGENATED TANKSpopulated by rare and colorful aquatic species -- hydrobiidaemollusks, Sockeye salmon, Siamese fighting fish, etc. (CONTINUED)
13.CONTINUED:NEW ANGLE, REVEALING:Darlan’s advisors LFT. LAFAYETTE, 50s, and LFT. ANJOU, 30s.Lafayette is Darlan’s consiglierie, a level-headed old pro,lean and mean. Anjou is young and wiry, a bit of a weasel. ADM. DARLAN (gestures to tank) Siamese fighting fish. Brave creatures on the whole, but stupid.He drops a small sharp-toothed fish into a tank where anotherSiamese fighting fish resides. The creatures proceed toviciously chomp each other to bloody shreds. ADM. DARLAN (cont’d) Not unlike our dear friends England and Germany.Anjou laughs smugly. ADM. DARLAN (cont’d) And then there is a different kind of hunter...He gestures to a baby thresher shark in a corner of the tank. ADM. DARLAN (cont’d) A predator who lets the other two fight while he waits... waits until the survivor is so exhausted that he cannot defend himself.He watches as the shark begins to move in toward the tiringSiamese fighting fish. ADM. DARLAN (cont’d) Consider our friend the shark here as ourselves.The shark devours the Siamese whole. The tank is his. ADM. DARLAN (cont’d) The indomitable power of patience.Anjou doesn’t hesitate to flatter. LFT. ANJOU Brilliant!Darlan flicks his eyes to Lafayette who’s face is neutral. LAFAYETTE What about Stalin? Roosevelt? (CONTINUED)
14.CONTINUED: ADM. DARLAN What about them? LAFAYETTE Waiting until Germany and England have destroyed each other could take years. We may exceed the range of their bombers for now, but soon the others will have American B-52s capable of circling half the world without refueling.A ship-to-shore line emits a shrill RING, shattering thesilence. Anjou’s beady eyes dart to the ringing phone, butDarlan keeps his steely gaze on Lafayette, ignoring the call. ADM. DARLAN That is why, like the shark, we must keep moving.Darlan steps out onto a private deck, thinking, his handsbehind his back. Lafayette, persisting, follows him out - LAFAYETTE Still, it’s only a matter of time before our position is pinpointed by Churchill or Hitler. Or any number of other enemies of France. (beat) We should present the ships to King George. ADM. DARLAN Surrender them to a rival nation? Why would I do that? LAFAYETTE Because that nation, and others, would rather sink us than see our vessels end up in Hitler’s hands. ADM. DARLAN The British! You’re worried about them finding us? Those imbeciles couldn’t locate Buckingham Palace!Just then, the Mosquito BLASTS by, nearly slicing Darlan’shead off. We ZOOM to Darlan’s face as he opens his mouth toexpel an ear-shattering SCREAM of rage. ADM. DARLAN (cont’d) Open fire! Immediately!
15.EXT. FLIGHT DECK, COMMANDANTE TESTE - DAYAn incredible sight: A Hawker Tempest with retractable noseis launched into the air by catapult, SHRIEKING as it takesoff, extending to full lethal length in mid-air.A fast, heavily armed interceptor, the Hawker is a warplaneto be reckoned with. Black with menacing swirls of green.A second Hawker scrambles, nose folded. The catapult pulleyattaches and the plane is FLUNG INTO FLIGHT.EXT. SKY - DAYThe Hawkers twist and spin, arcing through the clouds.INT. MOSQUITO - IN THE AIR - DAYFleming hauls up a brandy canteen kept warm by the engines,pours himself out a fat capful when...RATATATATATATATAT!!! Flak suddenly PINKS and ZINGS at themfrom behind, cascading off the plane in showering sparks.Fleming peers back to see the two Hawkers corkscrewing atthem, sending rounds of TRACER BULLETS into their tail. FLEMING Hawker Tempests at 6:00!Cotton pulls on the wheel. Burning flak strafes past. FLEMING (cont’d) Take her up to two hundred feet!Cotton strains, wrestling with the control column. COTTON I’m at full rudder, she won’t climb any faster!Fleming eyes the instrument panel, quickly calculates. FLEMING Reduce speed to 1,000!More flak whips by, grazing the tail as Cotton soars.Air currents HOWLING. FLEMING (cont’d) Climb 5,000, heading due west 4-5. Wait for my word, then cut back... (CONTINUED)
16.CONTINUED:The Hawkers SCREECHING at them. FLEMING (cont’d) Steady.... wait for it... now!Cotton jerks the wheel, turning them near vertical.The Hawkers shoot past them in a THUNDEROUS blur.Fleming engages the guns and fires off a warning volley asthey ascend even higher, soaring into the massive sun.LONG SHOTAs the limited range Hawkers loop up and circle back to theTeste, the Mosquito fast becoming a dot on the horizon. DISSOLVE TO:EXT. LONDON - ESTABLISHING - NIGHTCRACK!!! Clustered EXPLOSIONS illuminate the sky, outliningSt. Paul’s, Big Ben and other ruptured London landmarks.Comet-like INCENDIARY V1s (spheres of white phosphorusblazing to extreme temperatures in flight) rain down hard onthe city, causing instant fires upon impact. KA-BOOM!!!Amidst the terrible SOUNDS of the Blitz we HEAR a RADIO: RADIO (V.O.) There will be another bombing raid on London tonight, the tenth night in succession. Look out for bombs if you live in Chelsea, Croydon, Kew, Highgate, Mayfair, Soho...A quick PAN OF THE CITY ends at a grandiose, unscathed oldbuilding in Whitehall, Admiralty H.Q.TILT DOWN to a man-hole grate and DROP DOWN IT... PLUMMETINGTO...INT. ADMIRALTY BUNKER - NIGHT...ancient Roman sewers fortified into a steel and concretebunker complex of subterranean rooms. Cold-eyed GURKHAS(Indian assassins with curved daggers sheathed at theirsides) patrol the warren, man checkpoints and guard rooms.The RADIO continues, sounding more distinct now as the BBCANNOUNCER is replaced with the familiar VOICE of CHURCHILL. (CONTINUED)
17.CONTINUED: RADIO (voice of Churchill) We must face the frightening possibility that the French fleet, when combined with the German and Italian navies would outnumber even our own massive Royal Navy.DISCOVERING the source of the broadcast now, a transistorradio wedged in the guardhouse at the main checkpoint.The GUARD lowers the volume, causing a muffled BELLOWINGVOICE from the room next door to be made more apparent.He motions his friend over. The two of them eavesdrop. GUARD #1 Someone’s getting an earful.PAN to the wall and keep going, PANNING THROUGH IT TO...INT. WAR OFFICE - NIGHTSHOTS OF THE FRENCH FLEET stamped “FOR YOUR EYES ONLY” liesplayed across a Formica table surrounding a huge door-stopper of a memo entitled “OPERATION ARMADA - STRATEGICESTIMATE OF THE SITUATION” by Lt. Ian Lancaster Fleming.PULL BACK TO REVEAL:Fleming, clad in clean crisp naval whites, is standing toattention before ADM. JOHN GODFREY, 52, CMD. HUGH “QUACKER”DRAKE, 40s, and RAF HEAD, AIR CHIEF MARSHALL HILL, 55.Godfrey’s brutal tongue-lashing of Fleming continues. ADM. GODFREY You’re lucky I don’t court-martial you for this stunt. You and that pilot crony of yours!He dumps Fleming’s mega-memo onto his desk with a THUD.SUPERIMPOSE: ADMIRAL JOHN GODFREY, DIRECTOR OF NAVAL INTELLIGENCE DEPT. (N.I.D.), ROYAL NAVY. FLEMING I received a tip on the fleet’s whereabouts, there wasn’t time to go through the proper channels. ADM. GODFREY Balderdash! You could have alerted someone. But you didn’t want anyone else taking credit for your discovery of the French fleet. (MORE) (CONTINUED)
18.CONTINUED: ADM. GODFREY (contd) And what’s this I hear from Scotland Yard about a car chase across Tower Bridge? FLEMING The Waffen SS got wind that I was close to the French fleet and dispatched two agents to tail me. ADM. GODFREY They probably got hold of one of your thousands of bloody memos!He looks to Quacker for support. QUACKER According to Scotland Yard, the two men they have in captivity are refusing to speak. Who knows what they were following you for? If they were in fact following you. FLEMING It’s obvious what they were up to. ADM. GODFREY Is it? FLEMING All I propose is that we attempt to purchase the French Navy’s favor before we bomb it to smithereens. When France falls, the Iberian Peninsula is going to be wide open for U-boats. We could put those French vessels to work patrolling the Atlantic seaway to protect our merchant vessels. Would you rather those ships in the hands of the Germans? ADM. GODFREY Of course not! The idea had occurred to us, Fleming. An offer was already made to Darlan by His Majesty, and it was resoundingly rejected. Ergo, Monsieur Darlan and his fleet went Bon Voyage! FLEMING But that offer wasn’t nearly enough. It should have been more like a million pounds, not a hundred thousand. Better still, two million. In gold. (CONTINUED)
19.CONTINUED: ADM. GODFREY Is that all? FLEMING Well... an honorary dukedom might appeal to Darlan’s ego. He is a bona fide legend in France after all. We could give him somewhere like, oh, I don’t know... Wales. ADM. GODFREY (sarcastically) Wales? Why not Scotland then?DETONATIONS rattle the room. Loosed dirt sprinkles down. QUACKER (to Fleming) There’s still a chance Darlan will listen to reason and cede his vessels to the Crown. FLEMING Unlikely, sir. Darlan’s what Freud would call a “megalomaniac”, consumed by his own delusions of grandeur! He wants the world, and intends to wait until we and Germany have annihilated one another. Then using his fleet, he intends to rule over us all. CHIEF HILL How do you purport to be the expert on all this? FLEMING I’ve been researching Darlan for six months now. I probably know more about him than anyone in the department. Including you. Sir. ADM. GODFREY Thank you, Lieutenant, we’ll take your suggestions under advisement.Fleming straightens his spine, gives a half-hearted saluteand withdraws. ADM. GODFREY (cont’d) Oh, one more thing, Fleming.Fleming pauses while exiting, turns back to face Godfrey. (CONTINUED)
20.CONTINUED: ADM. GODFREY (cont’d) Station Nine wants to know how you chaps managed to dodge Jerry’s radar planes patrolling the Channel. FLEMING We flew above the patrols. ADM. GODFREY But how? Without your camera lenses frosting up from the extreme altitude, I mean.Fleming looks at him like it’s obvious. FLEMING I put the lenses by the wing flaps - the heat from the engine fumes prevented them from frosting over.There’s a moment of quiet as the idea’s brilliance hangs inthe air and then Godfrey nods. Fleming turns and exits.Godfrey looks interrogatively at Hill and Quacker as he packshis tarnished pipe with tobacco, strikes a match and smokes. ADM. GODFREY What do you two think of him? CHIEF HILL I think he’s an insubordinate! QUACKER Agreed. He acts like the normal rules don’t apply because he’s Val Fleming’s son. ADM. GODFREY Did you see his test scores? (opens file) 98 in French, 98 in Russian, 100 in German. A’s in marksmanship, close combat, cipher-work and cryptography. “Displays great aptitude in theoretical field- work.” “Socially connected.” CHIEF HILL He sent me a memo with the idea of sinking a great block of concrete with men inside it into the Channel to keep watch on the harbor through periscopes. The man’s crazy. (CONTINUED)
21.CONTINUED: QUACKER He’s notorious for his extravagant schemes. No appreciation of budgetary limits at all. He thinks Room 39 is made of money.Godfrey eyeballs Fleming’s photos of the French fleet. ADM. GODFREY And yet somehow this... upstart managed to find the French fleet before both your divisions and M.I.5. Why is that, gentlemen?Hill and Quacker, speechless, exchange embarrassed looks. ADM. GODFREY (cont’d) Dismissed!INT. MISS BLYTHE’S CUBBY, ADMIRALTY BUNKER - NIGHTFleming visits MISS BLYTHE, 22, gorgeous, Godfrey’s hyper-efficient secretary who greets him with a killer smile.He finds a flirtatious perch on her desk. MISS BLYTHE Sorry about France, ma cherie.Fleming leans in, smiling seductively. FLEMING There’ll be other opportunities.The intercom squawks with Godfrey’s VOICE: ADM. GODFREY (VIA INTERCOM) Miss Blythe, kindly remind the Lieutenant that all internal memoranda should be of a readable length, i.e. a page or two, not the bloody “Forsythe Saga!”He clicks off. With a wry grin, Fleming plants a kiss on theback of her hand, and without another word sweeps out. MISS BLYTHE (watching him go) Au revoir!INT. ROOM 39, ADMIRALTY BUNKER - NIGHTBusy, a sense of industry, like the newsroom of a greatnewspaper. Twenty of the smartest young men and women in theU.K. deciphering secret signals, recordings and maps. (CONTINUED)
22.CONTINUED:We PAN ACROSS the organized bustle, past a bespectacled youngWONK being reprimanded by his white-coated SUPERVISOR... SUPERVISOR May I remind you that the “I” in N.I.D. stands for Intelligence! Naval Intelligence Department!...past a jumble of modular equipment racks, mimeographs,computers the size of fridges, tape recorders with hugerotating tape spools... our PAN of Room 39 ending on......FLEMING, tucked in a cramped cubicle, wearing enormousheadphones, translating a crackly GERMAN communique.He writes “Mary had a little lamb” then stops, curses, hurlshis pen across his small desk in frustration. His eyesalight upon a dog-eared copy of John Buchan’s “The 39 Steps.”He gazes at the lurid cover art which shows a stockingedfemme fatale with lush, scarlet lips blowing on thesmoldering tip of a Tokarev TT-33 pistol. DISSOLVE TO...INT. TINKERBELL’S CASINO - NIGHTCLOSE ON A MARTINI. In a champagne goblet with a twist.PULL BACK TO REVEAL...Fleming, impeccably dressed as ever, having drinks withGraham Greene in the bar of a swanky London casino, itscolorful walls festooned with scenes from “Peter Pan.”Graham is ten years younger when we last saw him and looksquite debonair in his expensive clothes and hipster haircut.CIGARETTE GIRLS come and go. Rich LONDONERS frolic andcavort. Gambling. Grooving to a lively JAZZ quartet.Fleming knocks back his martini, signals for another. GRAHAM I say, steady on. We’re not at Oxford anymore. FLEMING I never was. You’re thinking of my brother Peter. GRAHAM Am I? Well, you certainly spent a lot of time at the bars there. FLEMING That I don’t deny. (CONTINUED)
23.CONTINUED: GRAHAM Hello. This should cheer you up.He gestures to a gorgeous WAITRESS as she approaches with twococktails. She leans in close as she sets down the drinks,smiling at Fleming who barely notices her. She leaves. GRAHAM (cont’d) (taken aback) What’s gotten into you tonight? Did something happen at work? FLEMING Nothing happened, no mission to France, nothing. Worse, they’re raising conscription to my age while I’m stuck rotting behind a desk. It’s embarrassing. GRAHAM If I were you I’d be happy to keep both feet firmly on the ground. By this time next month the whole of France will be speaking German.There suddenly comes a HUBBUB from the casino floor.Fleming and Graham turn to see a gaggle of people they knowbounding their way. Amongst the revelers is......Ann, escorted by LORD TEDDY ROTEHRMERE, 32, GreatBritain’s third richest man. A real toff. Teddy slaps a wadof money on roulette and... wins! Everybody CHEERS. GRAHAM (cont’d) I’m off, old boy. FLEMING Where are you going?Graham brushes his finger against his nose and winks. GRAHAM Loose lips sink ships!And like that, he’s gone.Ann and Teddy appear, along with Fleming’s current steadyMONIQUE ALEXANDER, 19, on olive-skinned Greek beauty. MONIQUE (kissing him) Miss me?Fleming keeps his eyes on Ann, despite Monique’s plungingblack evening gown that leaves little to the imagination. (CONTINUED)
24.CONTINUED:LATERTeddy is flirting with Monique over by the bar. Fleming isalone with Ann in the booth. Fleming slowly runs his hand upher slender, shapely thigh. She sidles up closer to him. FLEMING What would Teddy say?She puts her hand back. ANN Screw him. FLEMING Must you talk about your career?She cuts him a hard look. ANN Must you be such an arse?His ears suddenly prick up. He grasps her hand. Tight. ANN (cont’d) Let go! You’re hurting me!The BAND stops playing. We HEAR the AIR RADIO SIREN now.Everyone herds out, wild panic spreading like wildfire.Fleming takes Ann’s hand and leads her in the oppositedirection of the crowd, heading upstairs.EXT. CASINO - NIGHTFleming and Ann climb down the fire escape ladder to thepavement, hurrying past RAID WARDENS blasting WHISTLES.INT. BUICK - MOVING - NIGHTFleming speeds against an exodus of vehicles. PanickedDRIVERS crank HORNS, hollering: “YOU’RE GOING THE WRONG WAY!”Ann is sprawled back against her seat, knuckles clenched. ANN We’re supposed to be headed out of the city! Have you gone berserk?Fleming looks up and curses, SLAMS a fist down on the wheel.The speedometer scrapes 90. Ann shoots her eyes skyward.
25.EXT. SKY - NIGHTThe heavens are littered with German aircraft, fighters,bombers, F.W.s carrying 190F-8/U3 torpedo bombs, Stukas.Chutes open and scores of bomblets tumble out.EXT. THAMES - NIGHTFleming’s auto careens along the Thames embankment, flankedby streaking rockets to the sides and overhead.He veers sharply left, down an artificially lit road tunnelas V-1s strike the ground above them and EXPLODE, making thecar sway.Fleming rifles around in the back for a shabby brown jacketwhich he thrusts into Ann’s arms. ANN What’s this? FLEMING A Wren jacket. Put it on.He keeps a firm hold of the wheel as V-1s rain down abovelike hellish hailstones, rocking the tunnel in seismic waves. ANN This ugly thing? You must be joking. Which of your tarts does it belong to? FLEMING You have to wear it otherwise they won’t let us on board. ANN On board where?EXT. THAMES EMBANKMENT - NIGHTFleming comes to a screeching halt beside a Navy post on theriver, climbs out and pulls a dazed Ann from the car.She is staring dumbstruck at their destination:THE H.M.S. PERSEUS, a Class P submarine surfaced on theThames near Admiralty H.Q. It is imposing, futuristic,boasting a whopping 5”/25-caliber gun fixed to its nose.CRAACK!! A V-1 lands nearby and rattles the ground. (CONTINUED)
26.CONTINUED:Another projectile SHRIEKS though the sky, BLASTING THROUGHTWO BUILDINGS, sending glass shards, burning brick and hotmetal SIZZLING into the Thames. KRISSH!!! FLEMING Come on!Fleming and Ann sprint pell-mell to the submarine, Annthrusting her arms into the Wren jacket as she runs.INT. RAF MISSION CONTROL - NIGHTSPOTTERS clear Spitfires and Hurricanes which through thewindow we see shudder against powerful velocity, SCREECHINGoff the tarmac to the sky.INT. H.M.S. PERSEUS SUBMARINE - NIGHTFleming finishes reading a slip of paper as hurried CREWMENblur past. He looks up to face a young ENSIGN standing by. FLEMING Tell him I’m on my way.Ann, not surprisingly, even in her ugly jacket is being ogledby every young CREWMAN, causing quite a stir. She pulls hercoat closer as Fleming leads her down the tight sub corridor. ANN Is there somewhere I can work? I’d like to get a jump on tomorrow’s edition. FLEMING The Quartermaster’s cabin. You’ll be safe there, he’s an old pal. ANN Where are you going? FLEMING France. Godfrey’s summoned me. Looks like my mission might be on!Ann reacts, not exactly thrilled to hear this.EXT. SKY OVER LONDON - NIGHTThe Battle of Britain rages across the London night sky.Roaring FIREBALLS rocket up from the ground as the city’santi-aircraft guns kick in, launching soccerball-sized BLASTSof metal fragments at the Luftwaffe. KA-BOOM!!! (CONTINUED)
27.CONTINUED:Two GERMAN PILOTS in Fokkes, blinded by the blazing missiles,plow into each other spectacularly. Spitfires thunder intoshot firing rounds of tracer bullets, DECIMATING the Germansquadron.INT. QUARTERMASTERS’S CABIN - H.M.S. PERSEUS - NIGHTAnn is talking on a ship-to-shore line as she types. ANN ...It now seems inevitable that the Germans will gain possession of the entire Channel coast...The sub suddenly lurches from an underwater SHOCKWAVE. Annis thrown to the floor with her typewriter and other objects.INT. CAPTAIN’S SUITE, H.M.S. PERSEUS - NIGHTThe SHUDDERING stops, allowing latex-gloved WORKERS tocontinue with their task of stowing strips of gold sovereignsinto a deep, suction-sealed suitcase. PULL BACK TO REVEAL:Fleming being briefed by Godfrey while shadowy GOVERNMENTOFFICIALS and grim-faced MPs oversee, lurking in the b.g. ADM. GODFREY Two million pounds in gold along with deeds to half of Cornwall and an honorary dukedom. All outlined in this contract.He hands a smugly smiling Fleming a waterproof pouch bearingthe royal seal. ADM. GODFREY (cont’d) (shooting Fleming a look) This is serious business, Fleming. Flying during these conditions, the chances of survival are slim.He pauses to let this sink in. ADM. GODFREY (cont’d) There’s no easy path to France -- Lightning or Luftwaffe, take your pick. Still as willing to undertake this assignment now?Without a moment’s hesitation... FLEMING When do we depart? (CONTINUED)
28.CONTINUED:One of the BANK OFFICIALS snaps the suitcase shut, nods toGodfrey. The BANKERS and GOVERNMENT MEN shuffle out. ADM. GODFREY (to Hill) Does the RAF have anything to add? CHIEF HILL Just one thing. (to Fleming) If we haven’t heard from you in four days, France’s ships will be considered enemy territory and treated accordingly by my boys.He gets in Fleming’s face and makes the SOUND of anEXPLOSION. Fleming stares back, doesn’t break eye contact. FLEMING Four days is all I need.INT. BARRACKS - NIGHTFleming, in a flying suit, sits at a desk taking notes whileGodfrey and RAF BRASS stand before a board of maps, photosand documents, all under the heading “OPERATION ARMADA”.Godfrey THWACKS his baton at a grainy photo of GEN. BOCK. ADM. GODFREY Recognize this ugly bastard? FLEMING General Feodor von Bock, Army Group B Commander. ADM. GODFREY Correct. Bock’s one of the most ruthless officers in the S.S. -- in addition to being your main competition for Darlan’s ships, so look lively.Fleming mulls this. RAF OFFICIAL “Armada” is a joint Anglo-French Resistance Op, so a field agent from F.R. will be accompanying you to Spain in an Airspeed Envoy A6, equipped to withstand lightning.EXT. DARLAN FLOTILLA, CRETE - AERIAL POV - NIGHTDarlan’s flotilla is anchored in a lagoon off Crete.
29.INT. GALLERY, COMMANDANTE TESTE - NIGHTA fairly spacious kitchen area in the yacht’s forepeak.Amidst the dangling butcher’s knives, cloves and onions weDISCOVER Darlan and Lafayette having a secret confab. LAFAYETTE Meeting like this is absurd. ADM. DARLAN Someone has been informing England of our movements. Someone from my inner circle.Lafayette knits his brow. LAFAYETTE Are you certain the leak is from inside?Darlan opens a porthole latch and gazes out ruefully. ADM. DARLAN I’ve spent more than half my life at sea. There isn’t a port on the planet I haven’t berthed in. And after all my service, to be betrayed in my very own quarters.He sighs with regret. A genuinely world-weary lament. LAFAYETTE At least tell me who you suspect.Darlan notices a whale surfacing, spouting moist air from itsblowhole. The whale dives. Darlan turns to confrontLafayette. He runs his eyes over his old friend’s face. ADM. DARLAN Why don’t I just show you?He opens a drawer and takes out a revolver, presses it intoLafayette’s chest and fires it. There is a sharp REPORT andthen Lafayette’s body crumples to the ground, a surprisedexpression on his lifeless face as he clutches his chest.A door opens. Two stern-faced MARINES enter with Lft. Anjou.Anjou tries to keep his beady eyes forward as Lafayette’scorpse is hauled off, smearing the floor with purple gunk. ADM. DARLAN (cont’d) (to Marines) Put him in the furnace. More humane that way. (MORE) (CONTINUED)
30.CONTINUED: ADM. DARLAN (cont’d) (to Anjou) Lft. Anjou, you are in charge now. LFT. ANJOU Thank you, Admiral, and may I just say what a tremendous opportun... ADM. DARLAN (cuts him off) Find out where the leak is on this ship or you will be joining your predecessor in the boiler room!He stomps off, leaving Anjou all alone with his promotion.INT. SHUTTLE BUS - MOVING - NIGHTSpeeding through a forest with a MARINE at the wheel whileelectricity cracks outside from the brewing electric STORM.In the rear of the bus we find Fleming with Godfrey, Quackerand Chief Hill, huddled around LORD SUFFOLK, 50s, who seemsyounger than his age, jabbering excitedly with boyish glee.He wears the right sleeve to his tweed suit pinned back. Ifis wasn’t for that, we’d hardly notice he’s missing an arm,given how adept and agile he is. LORD SUFFOLK There’s a subminiature radio transmitter inside your boot-heel.Godfrey seems more taken aback than Fleming. ADM. GODFREY But there’s no aerial! LORD SUFFOLK Let me tell you how it works..Fleming holds up a hand. FLEMING (to Godfrey) It’s quite fascinating, sir, the principle works on... ADM. GODFREY Time is of the essence, that’s my principle. Next!Suffolk offers Fleming an open carton of cigarettes. LORD SUFFOLK Cigarette? (CONTINUED)
31.CONTINUED: FLEMING I don’t usually smoke filtered. LORD SUFFOLK You do now.He slits the cigarette paper with his fingernail, sendingtobacco spilling out, along with a miniature canister. LORD SUFFOLK (cont’d) Polish intelligence designed these for couriers to conceal tightly rolled microfilm across borders. FLEMING What will I be photographing? ADM. GODFREY Nothing. We modified the design. (a rare smile) Tell him, Professor. LORD SUFFOLK Instead of film each roll contains cyanide. One bite and it’s over.Fleming’s face. FLEMING What about weaponry? ADM. GODFREY You have your service pistol. What else do you think you need? FLEMING Something more... discreet.His words seem to stir Suffolk’s imagination. LORD SUFFOLK Such as? FLEMING Well... the sleeve gun that the French are using, or a three-finger push dagger... ADM. GODFREY This isn’t “Dick Tracy!” You’re on a covert diplomatic mission. Got it?Fleming nods reluctantly, but Suffolk has definitely beeninspired.
32.EXT. SHUTTLE BUS - MOVING - NIGHTThe shuttle heads into a bank of foliage which suddenlysplits neatly in half as the camouflaged gate opens.A pair of armed SENTRIES in green fatigues step forth fromthe greenery like two chameleons moving in the jungle,startling us slightly. They wave the shuttle on.EXT. SECRET AIRSTRIP - NIGHTThe shuttle pulls up and everyone disembarks. LORD SUFFOLK One more little item. Not really ‘weaponry’ per se but I’d love to get your feedback on it before I show it to the higher-ups.He hands Fleming a set of shoelaces with sturdy tips. FLEMING Uh, very nice. I don’t normally carry spares but you never know... LORD SUFFOLK You never know is right!He slips the tips off the laces revealing mini saw teeth. LORD SUFFOLK (cont’d) How’s that for cutting-edge?Fleming’s eyes sparkle with delight. ADM. GODFREY Hate to break up this beautiful friendship but we do have a mission to get off the ground!They march briskly past fields of TROOPS executing war games,past barracks of TECHS and ENGINEERS developing the latestexplosive devices, fire blasters, booby traps and weapons. QUACKER French Resistance has arrived.He nods to uniformed French MILITARY MEN emerging from anarmor-plated stretch limousine, striding toward them. FLEMING Can we trust this F.R. chap?Godfrey, Quacker and Hill exchange sly looks. (CONTINUED)
33.CONTINUED: FLEMING (cont’d) Am I missing something? ADM. GODFREY For once, yes, and I’m enjoying every second of it! Chief Hill? CHIEF HILL Leftenant Astier has been working with us for over a year now as part of our joint operation with the French, and has consistently provided us with real information about Darlan’s organization. Member of L’Armee Secrète... ADM. GODFREY She’s also a crack-shot, from what I hear.Fleming does a double-take. FLEMING Did you say “she” sir? ADM. GODFREY Yes, that’s right.Fleming is astounded. FLEMING A woman?! WOMAN’S VOICE (O.S.) Your powers of observation do you well, Mister...Fleming turns to behold......LT. DENISE ASTIER, 24, tall and steely, as beautiful,streamlined and formidable-looking as the French fleet.Fleming tries to act indifferent but it’s obvious he is takenby her exceptional beauty. She really is stunning. FLEMING Fleming, Lieutenant Ian Fleming. Enchante. DENISE Leftenant Denise Astier. Pleased to meet you.Fleming notices her flying suit. FLEMING Are you training to be a pilot? (CONTINUED)
34.CONTINUED:Denise scowls. DENISE I’m a fully certified Paratrooper.EXT. RUNWAY - AIRSPEED A6 - NIGHTFleming, Denise, et al stride toward a nimble A6 Envoy poisedmajestically on the brightly lit strip surrounded by a FLIGHTCREW frantically performing last-minute tests.Black STORM CLOUDS squabble threateningly overhead. FLEMING Small craft. Nice and cozy. DENISE We may need a bigger plane -- for your ego.Cotton suddenly bounds into view and files in behind them,burdened by an almost humorously-large radio backpack. COTTON Who’s she, mate? Your secretary?Denise is about to retort when a female VOICE cries out. FEMALE VOICE (O.S.) Ian!Fleming turns to see Ann standing there, flashing her pressphoto ID to a rapidly swelling group of GUARDS. FLEMING (goes to her) Ann? What are you doing here?Quacker appears out of nowhere. QUACKER I’d like to know the same thing! This location is supposed to be classified, Fleming. You haven’t even left the ground yet! Christ!Ann intervenes, getting in between Fleming and Quacker. ANN Actually, I found out for myself. (off Quacker’s look) What? Can’t a girl be connected? (gets nearer still) Could we have a minute alone? Please? (CONTINUED)
35.CONTINUED: QUACKER Make it snappy.He exits in a huff. FLEMING Now, Ann, what’s this all about? ANN I never thanked you for last night. The submarine. You.. saved my life.Fleming narrows his eyes at her. FLEMING What did you really come here for?Ann feels her cheeks flush. She suddenly looks guilty. ANN Fine, fair cop. I want to know what’s in France. FLEMING A lot of nervous Frenchmen. ANN What else? FLEMING Eiffel Tower, Lourdes. Ann, we’ve been through this before, I -- ANN Can’t tell me, it’s top secret. I know. Well, I except a full exclusive when you return.He turns to go, annoyed. ANN (cont’d) At least when it’s been declassified!Fleming begins to stride away, Ann follows. ANN (cont’d) Alright! I came because I don’t want you to go.Fleming stops mid-stride and turns. Ann looks at him. ANN (cont’d) I love you. There, I said it.Fleming is speechless. There is a sudden almighty THROTTLEROAR from the plane. (CONTINUED)
36.CONTINUED:He takes advantage of the conversation killer, leans in andkisses Ann on the lips, nearly making her swoon.PULL BACK TO REVEAL:INT. AIRSPEED - NIGHTDenise has been watching all this from inside the plane. Shelooks away as Fleming turns his back on Ann and clambers intothe plane. A look of unadulterated excitement floods hisface the instant Ann can no longer see. Denise innocentlyglances up at Fleming as he bounds down the aisle toward her. FLEMING Buckle up!He sits down next to her in the cramped space and beginsexchanging his bootlaces for the ones Suffolk slipped him.Cotton appears, notices Denise’s flight-suit and reacts. COTTON You training to be a pilot?Denise closes her eyes in frustration.INT. CONTROL TOWER - NIGHTGodfrey, Hill, Quacker and COMMUNICATIONS TECHS look on. PILOT (O.S.) (from radio) Hotel Charlie, this is Foxtrot 1. Can I get a weather check? Over. TECH Storm bearing down north northwest. Good to go. Over.They watch the Airspeed gather speed down the runway andascend, SCREAMING as it plunges into the stratosphere.INT. AIRSPEED A6 - IN THE AIR - NIGHTCotton is crouched in a corner searching for a signal on hisradio pack while Fleming peruses the beacon in his shoe andDenise reads a dense, technical-looking dossier in French.Fleming snaps his heel back into place, sits back, astounded. DENISE New toy? (CONTINUED)
37.CONTINUED: FLEMING Toy? Britain happens to lead the world in military technology. DENISE Does she? France has been using a similar device for years -- an MCR- 1 receiver.She unzips a small pouch and takes out cosmetics. DENISE (cont’d) I keep mine in my lipstickShe unscrews her rouge to reveal a micro-antenna. FLEMING That’s a shortwave radio, not a long distance transmitter. Not up to snuff. What else d’you have?Denise twists open her mascara, revealing a gun barrel. DENISE 4.5mm single-shot firing device.She takes the end of her eyeliner pencil revealing miniatureelectronic components embedded in the tip. DENISE (cont’d) (rummaging) And one or two more other useful items... You know, a girl has to have a few secrets. FLEMING How resourceful.He turns away and cracks open Black Mask magazine, its frontemblazoned with “NEW RAYMOND CHANDLER THRILLER!” over atypically racy image of a voluptuous damsel-in-distress. DENISE Do you always work this hard? FLEMING Are you always this charming? DENISE Let me guess, your comic is about a man rescuing a woman... FLEMING It’s not a comic. (CONTINUED)
38.CONTINUED: DENISE Are you waiting for me to make a mistake or get myself killed?Fleming flashes her a smile. FLEMING Not with me to protect you.Denise mutters to herself in French, returns to her file. FLEMING (cont’d) What are you reading? DENISE A fascinating dissertation on the use of cyanide gas propelled by the cheapest bulb-handled children’s water pistol -- for covert assassination.Fleming raises an eyebrow. FLEMING May I?She reluctantly hands him the file which he soon becomesengrossed in. She eyeballs his magazine, reaches for it.EXT. ENGLISH CHANNEL - NIGHTThe Airspeed flashes over the channel, a sleek figure againstthe booming THUNDERSTORM, bearing south-southwest.ZOOM to two SILVER BOLTS, FREEZE FRAME and CUT TO...INT. CONFERENCE ROOM -NIGHT...a CLOSE UP of TWIN LIGHTNING STRIKES, the emblem of theWaffen SS, embroidered on a silver-grey officer’s lapel.PULL BACK TO REVEAL:The uniform belongs to GEN. BOCK, whom we recognize fromGodfrey’s photo. He heads a tactical table centered by astrategy board of France. GERMAN OFFICERS gathered around.SUPERIMPOSE: GENERAL FIELD MARSHAL FEDOR VON BOCK, WEHRMACHT ARMY GROUP CENTER’S COMMANDER. GERMAN OFFICER #1 Our Panzer divisions will reach Meuse River at Dinant and from there advance to Paris. (MORE) (CONTINUED)
39.CONTINUED: GERMAN OFFICER #1 (contd) They should meet with limited resistance. GERMAN OFFICER #2 The French are more interested in making love than war.LAUGHTER. From all but BOCK who explodes in rage. GEN. BOCK Paris? Who cares about Paris? My orders are clear: secure the French Fleet. I need Darlan’s location by 13:00 hours.He turns and gives a sharp nod to a gorgeous female AIDE cladin latex SS garb. She picks up an internal line and whispersinto it as the OFFICERS swap anxious looks. Who’s coming?Bock turns to a screen. A projector CLATTERS, shooting jumpyimages of the FRENCH FLEET with German text running acrossthe bottom of the film laying out info about the vessels.DING! Sliding steel doors split apart to reveal......CPT. SPEER, 20s, a very neatly-groomed, oddly pretty manwith big blue eyes and a wavy mop of golden hair.He snaps his boot-heels together and salutes. CPT. SPEER Captain Speer reporting, General.Bock looks him up and down. GEN. BOCK Come with me, Captain.Bock leads Speer across the busy floor of an OPERATIONSCENTER, past ANALYSTS decoding communiques, CARTOGRAPHERS re-drawing maps of Europe, RADIO MEN, TRANSLATORS, etc. GEN. BOCK (cont’d) Some information has just come my way from our people in England that I’d like to share with you.He ushers Speer into a private, bullet-proof glass room.INT. ROOM - NIGHTThe STORM, seen through the window, rages silently in b.g. (CONTINUED)
40.CONTINUED: GEN. BOCK British Naval Intelligence is flying an operative into France with an extravagant offer to Admiral Darlan for his fleet. CPT. SPEER A fool’s errand, undoubtedly. GEN. BOCK Perhaps. Two million pounds in gold can be awfully persuasive. They’ll likely try to fly during the storm to avoid our patrols.As if on cue, a sheet of lightning flashes in the sky. GEN. BOCK (cont’d) Were he to survive the storm, this Englishman might get to Darlan before us. CPT. SPEER Tell me what I must do. GEN. BOCK Find out where the N.I.D. dropzone is and eliminate their operative.Speer snaps his heels together and struts off, past a narrowoval window looking out and down over a black cloud mass.Cutting now to an awesome EXTERIOR SHOT... Revealing...EXT. BOCK’S AIRSHIP - NIGHT...that all along we have been inside an airship! A mightyLZ Zeppelin. There is a short, fiery blast from theairship’s volcanic engines. Flames BELCH out toward us.INT. AIRSPEED ENVOY - IN THE AIR - NIGHTFleming makes his way forward to the hatch, moving steadilyin the storm-tossed craft. With acute concentration, hesecures the case of gold into an auto-deployment drop device.Denise and Cotton check equipment. Denise CRACKS gum. FLEMING Get ready for some chop!The A6 shudders into the EYE OF THE STORM, a caterwaulinggrey-black CYCLONE.The Flight Officer addresses Fleming, Cotton and Denise. (CONTINUED)
41.CONTINUED: FLIGHT OFFICER Weather’s easing a bit but it won’t last. We don’t have the fuel to loop back so it’s now or never!Fleming’s eyes are flush with adrenaline. The F.O. hauls thehatch open and Cotton is nearly blown back by the icy blast.Fleming stands firm. Denise moves into position and checksher jump helmet, pulls her chin strap tight.The F.O. attaches the suitcase of gold to a harness. FLIGHT OFFICER (cont’d) Gold secured, go!Fleming nods and the case is jettisoned. The case’s chutedeploys and a small, pulsing red blip is just glimpsed beforethe cargo vanishes into the stormy grey vortex beyond.The jump light turns GREEN. Cotton steps up and leaps out. COTTON Geronimo!Thunder BOOMS as he plummets. Jump light goes back to red.Fleming’s eyes are fixed on the jump light.He pulls out a pendant from around his neck -- it looks likea World War I bronze medal -- and kisses it for good luckthen carefully returns it to under his flight suit.Denise observes Fleming’s little ritual with interest.The jump light turns GREEN.Fleming jumps out of the plane just as it is STRUCK BYLIGHTNING. Strings of electricity crackle around the plane.Fleming’s harness line tangles up as the plane veers sharply,and he’s dragged through the sky against the side of theplane. Anti-smash-bulbs spin. ALARMS sound. Deniselunges for Fleming’s line and tries to untangle it, gets herhand trapped between one line. The rope slashes her palm. DENISE (to Pilot) His equipment’s caught!Fleming’s helmet is torn off by the velocity and he can nolonger breath. His pack is sucked into one of the engines,BLOWING IT OUT. Fumes and toxic vapors sting his eyes.The plane SLAMS to the right, dipping savagely. (CONTINUED)
42.CONTINUED:WHOOSH! A burst of flame from one of the blown enginesshoots quickly over Fleming in a hellish backdraft.Fleming RIPS back a patch on his suit, revealing a bowieknife, its silver flint glimmering in the moonlight. PILOT (VIA P.A.) Losing altitude... Starboard engine gone...Denise and the flight officer try to haul Fleming inside butthe ropes are too taut, the wind velocity too powerful. FLIGHT OFFICER I have to cut his static line!The cords tethering Fleming coil around the stem of thepropellers, pulling him in toward the gyrating blades. DENISE Hurry! He’ll be torn apart!The F.O. smashes an emergency glass CASE and removes ahatchet from within, grasps it with both hands. He brings theaxe crashing down as the plane BUCKLES, causing him to missall three of Fleming’s cords. Worse, the axe-handle is nowembedded in the fuselage. He pulls at it, but it’s caught.OUTSIDEFleming lunges his knife down at the ropes.He misses! The cords lash further around the rotor stem,drawing him further towards the props. He raises the knifeas far back as he can and slashes. SNAP! Two strands gone!The last frayed strap pulls him inches from the BLADES whichalmost graze his face when there is a sharp TWANG! The twinesplits under the strain and...FLEMING IS SUCKED AWAY, vanishing into the vortex.INSIDE PLANESeeing this, Denise connects her chute, swiftly fastening theclasps. FLIGHT OFFICER What are you doing? We’re way off course! DENISE Out of my way!She shoves him aside and finishes harnessing up. (CONTINUED)
43.CONTINUED:He grabs her from behind, but she flexes an arm and elbowshim sharply in the gut. He drops to his knees, winded.Denise somersaults out of the plane.FLEMINGPulls hard at his jammed chute gear, trying to free a mangledslider from the twisted grommet, as the snow-capped PYRENEESsuddenly appear from under the clouds, RUSHING UP FAST.DENISEDeftly steers her chute’s riser strappers to a clearing inthe thicket, sailing over the fir trees to a snowy plateau.FLEMING tumbles through the HOWLING air as spiky treetopsstart to materialize below him, white mountain landscapebeyond. He is moments from impact when... WHOOSH!His canopy deploys and he is jerked violently skyward.DENISE sails over the plateau toward a plunging canyon. Hereyes widen. She eases up on the riser straps and makes arunning stop, SKIDDING, landing a mere inches from the ledge.EXT. MOUNTAIN SLOPE, PYRENEES - NIGHTDenise catches her breath, peering down at a jagged clusterof frozen rocks beyond the ridge. A rogue gust of windsuddenly catches her chute and lifts her up off the ground.She hooks her legs around a boulder and quickly disconnectsher equipment, watches her chute sail over the frozen gorge.Fleming descends, skidding to a perfect halt before Denise,like he just dropped in. Paratrooper perfect. His flightsuit is torn and his face all bloodied, covered in abrasions. DENISE My god! Are you all right? (touching his body) Is anything broken? FLEMING Not sure. Keep searching.She snatches her hand away. He gets to work burying hisparachute while Denise scales a small rock and surveys thedarkened Basque landscape at the foot of the Pyrenees. DENISE How far do you think we are from the drop zone? (CONTINUED)
44.CONTINUED:Fleming takes an unusually thick coin from his pocket andslides it apart to reveal a compass within. Next, he opens adeck of playing cards and rifles through them. DENISE (cont’d) Now what are you doing?Fleming selects a one-eyed Jack, peels back the face toreveal a map of the area, holds the compass against it. FLEMING We’re about fifty miles or so south- southwest of the dropzone. We got lucky, the wind actually carried us closer in mid-air. (shuts compass) Still, that’s quite a distance. If we walk through the night at a brisk pace we can get there by dawn. DENISE And if we run?Fleming arches a brow, intrigued by the gauntlet toss.EXT. SKY - NIGHTThe storm has moved on, just a low, distant GRUMBLE now.EXT. MEADOW - NIGHTPAN from a CLOSE-UP of the suitcase of sovereigns to...Cotton, burying his parachute. He hears a BUZZING, looks upto see a light plane extending its landing gear. COTTON Frogs on time? That’s a first.Whistling a war tune, he pats the ground with his shovel andthen hurries to the unmarked aircraft as it alights.The plane’s door opens and a ladder slowly collapses out.Six elite GERMAN SOLDIERS emerge followed by LT. JODL, late20s, Speer’s deputy and lastly, Cpt. Speer himself.CLOSE ON -- JODLBig, strong, with tattooed SS lightning bolts on his neck anda thick, jagged scar running down his left cheek. He smilesa leering, rictus grin revealing a row of gold-capped teeth. (CONTINUED)
45.CONTINUED:Cotton freezes, fumbles for his gun. He manages to draw hisservice revolver but -- too late -- the German Paratrooperslevel their K-98 Mauser rifles at him. GERMAN SPY #1 (shouts) Halten Sie!Cotton pales as Speer and his retinue grimly approach.Jodl points at Cotton’s mini-shovel and laughs wickedly. LT. JODL (to Speer) Hat ein Spaten zum graben!SUPERIMPOSE: Look! He even brought his own shovel!EXT. FOREST - NIGHTCotton has nearly finished digging a hole in the ground.He shivers from the cold. His eyes are bruised and puffy,his skin flailed and splotched with horrid purple welts.He is completely naked and has been electrocuted. LT. JODL He knows nothing. CPT. SPEER Very well. We are finished here.Jodl unholsters his Luger, aiming at Cotton who spitsdefiantly. CUT TO:EXT. FOREST - DAWNBAM! Fleming and Denise hear the GUN BLAST and pause.Silence. Just the SOUND of their labored breathing.A twig SNAPS to the right of them. Fleming spins, his .38drawn, to see two burly MEN standing there. Fleming levelshis gun. Denise runs to the two strangers and embraces them.RENE is unkempt, big and husky. EDDY is thin and sinewy withalert, eager eyes. Both men have a slightly wild, feral lookabout them, like two wounded animals on the run. (CONTINUED)
46.CONTINUED: DENISE (in French w/subtitles) Rene, Eddy, where are the others? What are you doing here? RENE Our plane was hijacked. Germans...Fleming figures out the implications and charges off into thewoods, the Frenchmen and Denise shouting after him.EXT. MEADOW - DAWNJodl holds open the suitcase of gold coins for Speer. LT. JODL Herr Bock will be pleased!Speer, examining Cotton’s radio pack, doesn’t look nearly assatisfied as his grinning henchmen. CPT. SPEER If this was the radio Operator, he must have had a partner! Find him.He slings the radio pack into Cotton’s grave and sends around into it from his Luger. ZOOM BACK TO REVEAL...EXT. WOODS - DAY...our POV belongs to Fleming, as Rene and Eddy hold him backwith assistance from Denise. RENE Stop! We’d be slaughtered! DENISE He’s right. You’ll have your revenge when you secure the fleet.Fleming, watches helplessly through a gap in the trees asSpeer, Jodl and retinue board the small plane and depart.EXT. SPANISH COUNTRYSIDE - DAYA TRUCK RIPS BY, revealing... a road sign stenciled “FRENCH-SPANISH BORDER -- 24 KMS”. FOLLOW THE TRUCK...INT. TRUCK - MOVING - DAYDenise, driving, smoking a Gitane, turns and looks through apeephole into the truck’s rear where we find...
47.INT. BACK OF TRUCK- MOVING - DAY...a mini CONTROL ROOM. Fleming is speaking into a cracklyradio mic, while in one corner Rene disassembles and cleans afolding Sniper’s rifle with telescopic sights.Eddy, evidently the demolitions man, is delicately examininga home-made explosives device with kid gloves. FLEMING (into radio) Hello, Miss Blythe? Yes, I’m alright. Put me through to Godfrey will you.INT. ADMIRALTY H.Q. - DAYA relieved-looking Miss Blythe hands Godfrey a radio mic. ADM. GODFREY (into mic) Fleming? Where the bloody hell are you?INT. TRUCK - MOVING - DAYFleming eyes a survey map of SPAIN tacked to a corkboard. FLEMING Approximately thirty miles East of The Pyrenees, heading north northwest. Should rendezvous with Darlan at 13:00 hours G.M.T.Godfrey’s VOICE crackles over the airwaves. ADM. GODFREY (VIA RADIO) Do you still have the gold? Over.Fleming hesitates before answering. The line HISSES withstatic. Fleming turns the radio dial but the signal is lost.Eddy futzes with it while Fleming thinks, his mind racing.Rene puts a lit cigarette in Fleming’s mouth. RENE Sorry about your friend, English. FLEMING We have to get that gold back. Can you take me to General Bock?Rene looks at him. (CONTINUED)
48.CONTINUED: FLEMING (cont’d) Yes or no? RENE It would be suicide. We’re French Resistance, not Japanese Kamikaze pilots.The Frenchmen share a laugh. EDDY How you would even find Bock? FLEMING That’s the easy part.He nods out the window to Bock’s building-sized airshipclearly visible over the yonder tips of the Pyrenees. RENE He’s too heavily guarded. There’s three of us. Four with the girl. FLEMING We have the element of surprise. RENE And stupidity. You want revenge on your friend’s assassination, that’s understandable. But my orders are to drive you over the border into France. That’s it. Sorry mate. FLEMING This isn’t personal. Bock’s ahead of us, and he has our gold.His ardent resolve is definitely having an impact on the twowarriors but they remain skittish, eyeballing him warilywhile they confer, whispering to each other in French. FLEMING (cont’d) We have to try. If we don’t stop him, he may get to Darlan first. If that happens, the RAF will destroy the French fleet, killing every French sailor on board.The RADIO suddenly bursts with life: ADM. GODFREY (VIA RADIO) Foxtrot 1, come in, over. S.B.S. has identified the remains of First Officer Cotton at the drop-point. Confirm status of gold. Over.Fleming looks at Rene. Well? Rene weighs the decision. (CONTINUED)
49.CONTINUED: ADM. GODFREY (VIA RADIO) (cont’d) Confirm status of gold. Over.Rene flicks off the radio. RENE Terrible reception around here.EXT. PYRENEES - NIGHTThe sun is setting, flecking the sky with swirls of crimson.The French Resistance truck snakes up a snow covered mountainroad. SLOWLY ZOOM BACK to a long shot revealing Bock’shulking airship moored in a valley over the next peak.EXT. MOUNTAIN FORTRESS, PYRENEES - NIGHTThe lavish 18th Century winter estate is surrounded by highstone walls and the grounds are patrolled by armed GUARDSwith dogs. We DRIFT DOWN to the courtyard where we discoverBock’s airship anchored to the ground by heavy ballast ropes.A Mercedes limo squeals to a stop. Bock emerges flanked byBODYGUARDS, Speer and Jodl. Everyone acknowledges hisarrival. GUARDS snap salutes. STAFFERS genuflect. GEN. BOCK The 9th Army is the largest division in The Third Reich and you can’t find one British spy? CPT. SPEER It won’t be long, now. GEN. BOCK A British spy may very well be a British assassin. Find him or I find a new Captain.EXT. CHECKPOINT, FORTRESS - NIGHTFleming and Denise approach two GUARDS. Fleming is carryinga gas canister and Denise has tarted herself up. FLEMING Unser Auto ist defekter Abstieg, können Sie kommen Hilfe?SUPERIMPOSE: OUR CAR HAS BROKEN DOWN, CAN YOU HELP? (CONTINUED)
50.CONTINUED:The Guards eye Fleming and Denise warily, reluctantly nod andfollow them up the road. A wire loop drops down over thefirst German’s head and hoists him up off the ground.ABOVE THEMRene, crouched amidst tree branches, gives his noose amurderous pull. The second Guard runs over but is jerkedback by an identical piano-wire noose wielded by Eddy whosits beside Rene.Fleming and Denise hop over the gate.EXT. FORTRESS - NIGHTFleming and Denise zip past security lightbeams sweeping thegrounds. They look back at Rene and Eddy who don the guards’hats and grab their rifles and then wave back to the SENTRYin the watch-tower who can just make out their profilesagainst his searchlight. Rene waves. The Sentry waves back.The Sentry continues his spotlight sweep of the grounds.Fleming and Denise quickly shin up ladder to a...ROOFTOPFleming gets to work assembling the single-shot AR-7 Sniperrifle. He cracks open a box of cartridges. FLEMING (nods downward) Six-heures!Denise looks down at a SENTRY below them going for his Luger,quickly draws her silenced Tokarev and... PFFT! PFFT!Two slugs land in the Guard’s temple. Double tap.Denise trains her gun on the grounds, stands vigilant whileFleming fixes the AR to a tripod mount which has a triangularbase with a jack at each leg for leveling the gun.He kneels and pumps the levers, swiveling the high poweredrifle as he peers through its scopes, searching.POV THROUGH CROSS-HAIRSOur view turns to an illuminated section of the fortress, thedining hall, favoring an ornate stained-glass window.
51.INT. DINING HALL, FORTRESS - NIGHTA huge baronial room featuring Medieval Spanish tapestries,gleaming suits of armor and a large lit stone fireplace.Bock and retinue are finishing up a private meal while apretty young Spanish SERVANT GIRL clears away the plates. GEN. BOCK Tell me, Captain, what have you learned about this elusive Englishman? CPT. SPEER (opens dossier) Ian Lancaster Fleming. Born London, 1908. Father died in the Great War...We HEAR a crack of glass and then something WHISTLES pastBock’s head. Bock scrunches his face in befuddlement.More glass TINKLES and then the head of Bodyguard #1 explodeslike a watermelon, splattering blood and bits of chipped boneeverywhere and on everyone like shrapnel.Speer dives onto Bock, hurling him down protectively.More glass POPS and another lead slug whizzes past. GEN. BOCK Get off me, you fool!He shoves Speer away.EXT. ROOFTOP - NIGHTFleming reloads, oblivious to the SOUND of a SIREN wailing,SHOUTING and yelping DOBERMANS.INT. DINING HALL, FORTRESS - NIGHTBock, crouched down, makes his way to the door. A BULLETshatters a vase by his head. He curses, gets down.Jodl grabs the Servant Girl and, using her as a shield,blasts his Luger out a window, providing cover for Speer tospirit Bock away. POP! A round catches Bodyguard #2’sthroat and rips it out. Jodl BLASTS away.The Servant Girl bites his hand. He screams, releases her.He SLAPS her face and throws her roughly to the ground.
52.EXT. FORTRESS CHECKPOINT - NIGHTRene and Eddy are rapidly shoving nails into pine cones. RENE Get in the truck!Eddy exits as Rene finishes up with the nails and cones.EXT. ROOFTOP - NIGHTFleming remains ice-cool, re-loads the single shot rifle. DENISE Bock’s getting away!FLEMING’S POV THROUGH CROSS-HAIRSThe view oscillates between a SHOT OF BOCK absconding to aSHOT OF JODL cocking his pistol at the Servant Girl.INT. DINING HALL, FORTRESS - NIGHTJodl squeezes the trigger on his pistol when -- PFFT! -- hesuddenly sprouts a third eye. He collapses, dead.EXT. FRONT GATE - NIGHTFleming sprints to the ladder with Denise as the SIREN WAILS.The spotlight finds them as they hurtle for the truck whichEddy is revving, backing up THROUGH THE GATE.They leap into the truck which tears off down the windingmountain road. Rene pumps his Remington shotgun and BLASTS aplucky German GUARD shooting at them, sending a round ofpellets into his ass. The Nazi Soldier yelps in pain. RENE Hit a pig and made him squeal!He sends another BLAST at an oncoming Nazi on a motorbike.INT. TRUCK - MOVING - NIGHTFleming and Denise are in the rear of the truck, standing incombat stance, BLASTING their handguns out the open doors attwo tenacious Nazis on scooters gaining on them. One of theGoons locks a bead on Fleming, aims his pistol and BANG! (CONTINUED)
53.CONTINUED:Not a gun report but the BLOW-OUT of his tire when it rollsover a pine cone spiked with nails. He loses control,careening spectacularly off the road into a rock face.KA-BOOM!! The other rider swerves and PLOUGHS INTO A TREE.We STAY ON the wreckage as an S.S. troop vehicle screeches toa halt, blocked. Speer, in the passenger seat, screams athis minions to hurry up and clear the burning bike wreckage.He gets out and does it himself, booting the debris away.EXT. MOUNTAIN ROAD - NIGHTThe truck spurts up a hilly road flanked by clumps of firs.INSIDE TRUCKWe HEAR the humming engines of Speer’s convoy approaches. FLEMING Left! Take the left!The truck straightens out and scoots up a side road.A long beat... followed by a collective exhale as the SOUNDof the chase fades away behind them. All is clear when......there suddenly comes a loud whooping SOUND overhead.All eyes look up ominously as a Bell 47G helicopter rises upover the frozen slopes in a blast of swirling snow.The SOUND of its powerful turbines throbs in the air.Eddy steps on it, speeding backwards down the side road.Mortar bombs, hurled down, EXPLODE around them.Eddy employs evasive maneuvers -- jinks right, jinks left --as shells descend from the chopper. KA-BOOM!!! FLEMING (cont’d) Pull over, we’re sitting ducks!Eddy brakes sharply and everyone gets out. Fleming just hastime to grab a grenade when the truck is levelled by aMORTAR. Flames lick out and catch Eddy’s back. He screams.Rene dives, dropping Eddy to the ground, smothering theflames.The Chopper banks toward them, its guns spitting streams oflead, SHATTERING the icy ground at their feet as they dartfor cover, sending everyone scurrying up the frozen hillside. (CONTINUED)