Air Force One Page #4

MITCHELL:

You don't know the half of it. Did

you know this entire plane is shielded

from radiation? We could fly through

a mushroom cloud completely unharmed

if necessary.

KORSHUNOV:

A dubious distinction, no?

MITCHELL:

I guess it depends on your

perspective.

They walk by several conference rooms, running down the

starboard side of the plane.

KORSHUNOV:

And all these rooms here?

MITCHELL:

Conference rooms, though some have

other functions. The one up front

doubles as an emergency medical

center.

Past the conference rooms, they walk by a small side room

where SECRETARIES work on computers, generating documents.

MITCHELL:

As you can see, back here's more

like a regular plane. Security and

Secret Service take this cabin.

You'll be in the rear with the press

pool.

The REAR PRESS CABIN, just ahead of the rear galley and bank

of bathrooms. A handful of disgruntled reporters feign sleep.

MITCHELL:

Here's a press kit. I'll let you

guys get comfortable and once we're

airborne I'll be able to schedule

the interviews.

KORSHUNOV:

Thank you.

Mitchell exits forward. One of the reporters stirs and looks

up at the news team. He groans. Space is a premium back

here.

REPORTER:

You fellas win some sort of fly-with-

POTUS contest?

KORSHUNOV:

Potus? What is Potus?

REPORTER:

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

States.

KORSHUNOV:

Ah, no. We won nothing. We are

ITAR-TASS news service.

REPORTER:

Right. Listen, this here... This is

my row. You'll have to sit over

there.

Korshunov trades looks with his news team.

EXT. MOSCOW INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT - NIGHT

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

One.

INT. AIR FORCE ONE - NIGHT

The President and his entourage ascend from the lower deck

platform onto the main deck. COL. DANIEL AXELROD, Air Force

One's pilot, snaps off a salute as he passes.

COL. AXELROD

Welcome aboard, Mr. President.

MARSHALL:

(returns salute)

Hey Danny. How's it look tonight?

COL. AXELROD

Glassy, sir. Care to take the wheel?

MARSHALL:

You keep offering, one of these days

I'll take you up on it.

(to no one in

particular)

Rose and Alice back yet?

AIDE:

No, Mr. President. The ballet ran

late. Their ETA is seventeen minutes.

Marshall nods as he pulls off his bow tie and enters his

stateroom. Shepherd follows two steps behind.

SHEPHERD:

Mr. President?

Marshall halts Shepherd with a gesture.

MARSHALL:

Thirty seconds.

Shepherd nods and waits by the door. Lt. Col. Perkins takes

a seat outside the Presidents stateroom and opens the latest

Tom Clancy thriller, using the nuclear football as a lap

desk.

INT. PRESIDENT'S STATEROOM - NIGHT

Marshall collapses on the couch, rubs his eyes, then closes

them. A moment of peace in a breakneck day.

The knock at the door jars him.

MARSHALL:

Yes.

Shepherd enters.

SHEPHERD:

Can I at least issue a press release

objecting to the Speaker's choice of

wording?

President Marshall picks up one of the many phones in his

office.

MARSHALL:

I said it's not worth the fight.

(into phone)

Steward, please.

SHEPHERD:

We'll just say it was in bad taste.

* MARSHALL

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

the

Speaker's a bastard for turning him into a sound bite. I'll

take the heat. Understood?

SHEPHERD:

You give me ulcers.

MARSHALL:

That's my job.

A STEWARD enters the room.

STEWARD:

Mr. President?

MARSHALL:

Hey Mike. Could you get me a

Heineken?

SHEPHERD:

No, wait. Get him one of the Russian

beers.

The steward nods and disappears from the room.

SHEPHERD:

We've got those Russian news guys on

board and it'll look good in the

papers.

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