Basic
FADE IN ON:
An ARMY HELICOPTER as it soars over the thick LOUISIANA BAYOU.
Lush and green only a day ago, the foliage below has been
ripped to shreds. The kind of damage that can only be done
by nature.
SUPERIMPOSE:
, FEBRUARY 2 - 0630 HOURS - 32 KILOMETERS NORTHOF FORT MCKINLEY, LOUISIANA
INT. ARMY HELICOPTER (FLYING) -- SUNRISE
Sitting next to the PILOT is COLONEL WILLIAM STYLES. Mid40'
s, normally gruff, but completely cowed by the damage
below. The PILOT, unfazed.
PILOT:
Hurricane Beth, huh? Had an ex-wife
named Beth, this is pretty much par
for the course. This area got the
worst of it, I hope these guys are
all intact-
STYLES:
That's enough, Lieutenant.
SOMEONE'S P.O.V. - RUNNING through the underbrush - ducking
branches, pushing through bushes, splashing through streams.
LABORED BREATHING wheezes over the sound track. We're headed
for a CLEARING...
INT. ARMY HELICOPTER (FLYING) -- SUNRISE
The Pilot pushes his stick forward, descending to tree level.
PILOT:
Coming up on the pick-up.
EXT. CLEARING -- DAWN
TWO MEN emerge from the underbrush at a run. The BIGGER MAN
carrying the wounded SMALLER MAN over his shoulder. Both in
ragged army cadet fatigues - ripped, muddy, and bloody.
The Bigger Man lowers the Smaller Man to the ground and
unshoulders his M-16. Face panicked.
The sound of the HELICOPTER approaching...
2.
INT. ARMY HELICOPTER (FLYING) -- SUNRISE
The unmistakable SOUND OF GUNFIRE from below.
PILOT:
Holy sh*t, that's live fire!
As the Helicopter comes over the clearing, Styles and the
Pilot squint down through the windscreen to see the Two Men,
huddled together as BULLET HITS kick up DUST around them!
STYLES:
Who's shooting at them-
The Bigger Man raising his own his weapon and RETURNING FIRE.
The Smaller Man frantically waving the Helicopter down...
PILOT:
I can't see-
Below, the Bigger Man still shooting and then he lowers his
rifle and there's only SILENCE. No return fire.
And then Styles sees why. A THIRD MAN. Lying by the
treeline. Chest torn open by gunfire. Obviously dead. His
clothes - the same fatigues the first two men are wearing.
STYLES:
That was one of their own, he just
Shot one of their own men-
PILOT:
STYLES:
Get us on the ground!
EXT. CLEARING -- SUNRISE
As the Helicopter comes in for a landing, the Bigger Man
kneels next to the Smaller Man, who bleeds from a bullet
wound to the arm. His face, pale, sweating. The Bigger Man
wipes the Smaller Man's brow and speaks softly and seriously.
BIGGER MAN:
Are you ready for this?
The Smaller Man nods.
INT. ROADHOUSE -- MORNING
A full on sh*t-kicking dive. Nearly empty, given the hour.
A TELEVISION plays the morning news over the bar. Only two
inhabitants - one a BARTENDER, the other the lone CUSTOMER,
smoking and picking at a plate of criminally runny eggs.
3.
HARDY:
Tell the truth, Vic. You made these
with a blender, right?
He grins and we get our first good look at
TOM HARDY - Three day stubble, dark rings around his eyes,
but a with strong jaw and steady voice. Not your average
barfly. Somebody who maybe used to be somebody.
BARTENDER:
Don't like 'em, don't eat 'em, don't
make no damn difference to me.
HARDY:
You know that was like a quadruple
negative?
The Bartender takes the plate away from him.
HARDY:
Can I at least have a drink?
BARTENDER:
It's ten thirty in the morning.
HARDY:
Yeah, if you've slept.
BARTENDER:
You know the law - no liquor before
noon. Could lose my license.
HARDY:
Don't you mean "don't need no liquor
license not taken away from me"?
The Bartender smiles.
BARTENDER:
Hurricane kept you up, too?
HARDY:
Yeah, and I could’ve used the sleep.
I’m supposed to meet people here
tonight, try and get some work going.
He stops, his attention suddenly on the TV. A NEWSCASTER:
NEWSCASTER:
...is expected to announce the grand
jury indictments in the Guissepe
Torres police corruption case as
early as tomorrow afternoon.
Speculations abound that up to ten
former homicide detectives could be
named in the proceedings
4.
The Bartender turns the TV off hastily. Embarrassed:
BARTENDER:
Sorry.
Hardy just looks away. The Bartender puts an empty glass
down and fills it to the lip with bourbon.
Hardy nods a "thank you" and reaches for the glass when the
PAGER on his hip goes off. He checks the number.
HARDY:
Bill Styles...
BARTENDER:
Who?
HARDY:
Old friend. Haven't talked to him
in- 911. Can I use your phone?
The Bartender hands him a cordless and Hardy dials.
HARDY:
Hey, Bill, it's Tom. Long time no.
. . whoa, whoa, slow down. Yeah...
yeah, of course I'll come. An hour.
He hangs up and hands the phone back to the Bartender.
BARTENDER:
What was that?
Hardy, obviously shaken by the call.
HARDY:
I gotta go out to McKinley.
Establishing. A sprawling five square mile compound nestled
in the Louisiana backwoods. Also damaged by the Hurricane.
HELICOPTERS loaded with emergency supplies land and take
off, REPAIR CREWS work feverishly on damaged buildings, all
while CADET PLATOONS complete morning drills around them.
This is still a boot camp after all.
SUPERIMPOSE:
1130 HOURS - FORT MCKINLEY BASIC TRAINING CENTEREXT. FORT MCKINLEY -- MAIN GATE -- MORNING
Styles stands waiting nervously just beyond the CHECKPOINT
with WARRANT OFFICER JULIA OSBORNE - early 30's, attractive,
close cropped hair and icy eyes. In the middle of protesting.
5.
OSBORNE:
This is totally unnecessary-
STYLES:
He asked to see a policeman, we're
getting him a policeman .
OSBORNE:
But this guy you called, he's not
even Army-
STYLES:
He's former Army and the best I’ve
ever seen in a room. Besides, he
knows the territory, we did Basic
together here.
(off her look)
You've had three hours with Dunbar
and haven't gotten a peep, we need
to take a different tack.
OSBORNE:
He's not Army, it’s not official-
STYLES:
Then it's unofficial.
He takes a hit from an ASTHMA INHALER, as a '71 PONTIAC GTO
drives through the gate and pulls up. Hardy emerges.
OSBORNE:
(re:
his appearance)Doesn't get any unofficialer than
that...
The two old friends embrace.
HARDY:
How are you?
STYLES:
Been better.
(pause)
I read about what's been happening
With you... I should have called-
HARDY:
What kind of trouble are you in?
Styles looks at the ground. Momentarily flustered.
HARDY:
That bad?
STYLES:
Would I have called you if it wasn't?
6.
HARDY:
Tell me what I can do.
OSBORNE:
You can get us some answers.
Hardy takes off his sunglasses, noticing her.
STYLES:
This is Warrant Officer Julia Osborne,
The closest thing we have to an in-
House investigator.
HARDY:
And here you are going out of house.
How's that make you feel, Jules?
OSBORNE:
Hostile and uncooperative.
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"Basic" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 4 Nov. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/basic_388>.
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