Blade II Page #26

BLADE:

Kiss your ass goodbye, Reinhardt.

SCUD:

You're wasting your time, Blade. The

flechette's a dud.

Scud crosses over to Reinhardt's side. Whistler stares at

him in disbelief.

SCUD (CONT'D)

It was never supposed to explode. All

it was supposed to do was make you feel

like you were in control.

Blade's eyes darken with hatred. Reinhardt laughs.

REINHARDT:

Thought you had me on a short leash,

didn't you, chief? Only it turns out,

you're the one that's been on the leash.

Reinhardt digs his claws into his scalp and tugs the barbed

flechette from his skull. As he does so, Blade's remote

detonator BEEPS to indicate it's being tempered with.

Reinhardt finishes removing it and sighs contentedly.

REINHARDT (CONT'D)

That's better.

Reinhardt tosses the fletchette to Scud, who grins, flipping

down his lower lip to reveal a vampire glyph tattooed on it.

SCUD:

See, I'm one of Damaskinos' familiars.

Blade looks to Nyssa who averts her gaze.

SCUD (CONT'D)

Yeah, your little cootchie knew.

WHISTLER:

You little sh*t. When did they get to

you?

SCUD:

Back when Blade had me hunting down your

puckered old ass. What's up with your

hair, anyway? F***ing Willie Nelson

look-a-like?

Scud punches Whistler in the face.

SCUD (CONT'D)

Man, I so wanted to do that.

Scud shakes his hand, which is smarting from the blow. He

looks to Blade now, angry.

SCUD (CONT'D)

And you. You never cared about me. I

gave you everything. All you cared

about was digging up the old f***! You

think they scoped out my security

system?

(chuckling)

I let them in. Dude, I practically gave

'em the f***ing keys. I've been feeding

Damaskinos information the whole time.

Providing them with samples of your

genetic material -- helping them with

the Reaper program. They're close,

Blade. Right up against it. Any day

now, they're all going to be Daywalkers.

And when that happens, well, let's just

say, I don't want to be on the losing

team. You may be strong, you may be

fast, but in the end, you're just too

human, B.

He pinches Blade's cheek. Then he stands up.

SCUD (CONT'D)

So that's down and dirty. Got anything

to say for yourself?

BLADE:

(weak, but defiant)

Two things. One, I was on to you the

moment they turned you. And two --

(raising the detonator;

smiling)

I switched that dud of yours back with

the real one.

Scud has a split-second of terrified, wide-eyed realization

before Blade pushes the button and BOOM! The flechette in

Scud's hand EXPLODES, blowing his body apart, spraying those

nearest him with blood. Primarily Reinhardt.

REINHARDT:

Son of a b*tch!

As the others react with varying degrees of surprise and

horror, Reinhardt savagely KICKS Blade across the face. He

HITS Blade again and again, driving him down to the floor.

Then he bends and tugs the sword from Blade's back-scabbard,

preparing to cut his throat.

DAMASKINOS:

Reinhardt!

Reinhardt hesitates. Nyssa takes a step towards Blade, but

Damaskinos stops her. Damaskinos gestures to his guards.

They haul Blade up and drag him from the lab. Reinhardt

gestures to Whistler.

REINHARDT:

What about him, then?

(crossing to Whistler,

handcuffing him)

Me and Hobo Kelly here have a little

unfinished business.

Damaskinos waves dismissively. Reinhardt takes Whistler

away.

INT. CALIBAN INDUSTRIES - AUTOPSY ROOM - NIGHT

Blade is dragged into a large autopsy room. The vampire

guards lay him on a steel autopsy table. He struggles

against them, but he's just too weak from loss of blood.

Eventually they get him secured, clamping his wrists and

ankles into steel manacles which are affixed to the table.

INT. CALIBAN INDUSTRIES - SECURITY ROOM - NIGHT

CLOSE ON:

Blade's sword pommel as the booby-trap blades in the handle

spring out.

REINHARDT (O.S.)

Nice.

PULL BACK to reveal Reinhardt holding Blade's sword. He

gives it a few practiced swings, then runs his thumb along

the blade.

REINHARDT (CONT'D)

How many vampires do you think he's

killed with this thing?

ON WHISTLER:

Sitting in the corner, his hands cuffed behind his back. We

are in a security station filled with surveillance monitors

offering various views of the laboratory complex.

WHISTLER:

Not nearly enough, Fritz.

REINHARDT:

Keep talking, warmblood.

Reinhardt KICKS Whistler in the face.

REINHARDT (CONT'D)

When I'm through with you, you'll be

begging for a dirt nap.

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