Bridge of Spies Page #10

DULLES:

You’re not representing anybody.

You’re not a government official,

you have no official standing.

DONOVAN:

So...some fiction on our side as

well.

DULLES:

Correct. Which means of course you

can’t rely on any acknowledgment or

help if things go south. The CIA

can’t be responsible, we can’t be

embarrassed.

DONOVAN:

And where do they want this

negotiation to take place?

DULLES:

There.

DONOVAN:

...There?

DULLES:

East Berlin.

DONOVAN:

But isn’t East Berlin getting

rather...

DULLES:

Well, yes, the place is

getting...complicated.

HOFFMAN:

Yeah, complicated. The Soviet side

has been setting up checkpoints for

the past few months to try to stop

people hemorrhaging to the Western

sectors. It hasn’t worked. We have

intelligence to suggest that they

may go one step further and wall off

the entire Eastern sector.

Donovan is concerned, thinking...

DULLES:

Okay -- that’s it in a nutshell.

The decision is entirely yours. If

you need time to kick it around...

(CONTINUED)

12.17.14 FINAL SHOOTING SCRIPT 56.

CONTINUED:
(3)

After a pensive beat -

DONOVAN:

No. No, I don’t.

DULLES:

Well fine! Fine!

He rises to shake Donovan’s hand.

DULLES (CONT’D)

Of course it’s be best if this all

remains confidential. Let’s not

discuss any of this with, uh...(a

discreet look to an open file on the

table) Mary, or with anyone else.

Share the correspondence only with

us. It’ll let us know what they

want to do, and when.

All three men walk toward the door.

DONOVAN:

I have no client, no wife, no

government. Don’t quite know what

I’m doing, or when, or who for.

DULLES:

You’re doing it for your country.

But your country doesn’t know that

yet.

DONOVAN:

What about my client, the other

person in this equation -- my guy.

DULLES:

“Your guy”? You mean the Russian?

He’s not your guy any more,

counselor, your guy is Francis Gary

Powers now.

DONOVAN:

And what do I tell Rudolf Abel?

DULLES:

Tell him not to drop dead.

SUPER:
BERLIN, GERMANY

A tank and a fleet of army trucks with Soviet markings in the

streets of Berlin. Easst German soldiers work with pick-axes

and shovels. Soldiers break up the concrete ground.

(CONTINUED)

12.17.14 FINAL SHOOTING SCRIPT 57.

CONTINUED:

Hundreds of East German digging a foundation through the

heart of the city.

Two parents rush by, carrying their child, trying to cross.

Pryor, a young American student walking his bike, watches.

He mounts his bike and rides along the wall, a camera around

his neck and a satchel slung over his shoulder.

Eastern Berliners trying to cross are dragged back by

soldiers.

One mother with her children shouts across to her husband

stranded on the Eastern side.

As the wall reaches further upward, more and more people

arrive on both sides. Some climb down from apartment

windows, dangling, while others below try to catch them.

ON THE STREET:

Pryor, now walking his bicycle, arrives at a gap in the

construction. Supplies here are piled up but no workers have

yet been dispatched to this section.

A brief look back and forth, and then Pryor pushes his bike

into the Eastern sector.

TITLE:
EAST BERLIN

Pryor pulls up outside an austere-looking apartment block.

He leans his bike against the wall, enters the building.

APARTMENT INTERIOR

The door is ajar, German radio coming from inside. Pryor

enters.

The apartment is the book-crowded domain of an academic.

Pryor projects over the sound of the radio.

PRYOR:

Professor?

A young woman -- Katje -- emerges from the kitchen.

KATJE:

Papa went to the University. You

shouldn’t be here, Frederic.

PRYOR:

They’re having classes today?

(CONTINUED)

12.17.14 FINAL SHOOTING SCRIPT 58.

CONTINUED:

She shrugs.

KATJE:

He went to see. It’s where he goes.

What’re you doing here?

PRYOR:

I came to get you and your father.

You have to come with me. You might

not get out tomorrow.

KATJE:

Just -- leave?

PRYOR:

Yes, yes, yes, leave. Right now.

MINUTES LATER:

The young man and young woman push their bikes quickly, amid

tanks and soldiers.

Up ahead is the street where he crossed through, into the

East. Soldiers are now at work there.

PRYOR:

Go back. Go back.

A few armed soldiers notices the couple. They start toward

them.

PRYOR (CONT’D)

I’ll be okay, I’m American. Go back

to your father’s, we’ll find another

way, just go.

She eases off, starts to walk away.

The soldier calls to her in German. She turns, walking

backwards, shrugs, answers in German, still retreating.

The soldiers are upon Pryor. Pryor holds his palms up in

apology.

SOLDIER:

Papers. Please.

PRYOR:

Ich bin Student. Frederic Pryor, I -

(CONTINUED)

12.17.14 FINAL SHOOTING SCRIPT 59.

CONTINUED:

The soldier yells at him as he reaches forward, grabs the

camera round his neck and yanks it, snapping the strap. He

shakes the camera in Pryor’s face, yelling.

A second soldier grabs his bike and tosses it aside.

PRYOR (CONT’D)

My name is Frederic Pryor. I’m an

economics student. Student.

He withdraws a binder from his satchel.

PRYOR (CONT’D)

It’s my dissertation, my thesis.

The Foreign Trade System of the

European Communist Nations.

The soldier takes it from him.

PRYOR (CONT’D)

There’s a lot of work...

The soldier hands it off to another soldier.

PRYOR (CONT’D)

(as he reaches for it) And that’s my

only copy -

The reach was a mistake: as the second soldier knocks him

down. Katje, watching from a distance, is terrified for him.

DONOVAN HOME -- MASTER BEDROOM

A rushed DONOVAN is tossing dress shirts into an open

suitcase on the bed. MARY watches tersely.

DONOVAN:

Came up at the last minute. They

have offices in London. These

clients, not my idea, Scotland, a

fishing expedition.

It’s obvious to Donovan that she doesn’t believe a word.

Mary’s too smart for this, and of late, their life has been

far too strange.

MARY:

(pointedly)

What kind of fishing, Jim?

DONOVAN:

Salmon fishing...

(CONTINUED)

12.17.14 FINAL SHOOTING SCRIPT 60.

CONTINUED:

MARY:

Just tell me that you’re not going

to be in any danger. That it’s a

routine business trip, and I won’t

worry.

Donovan keeps moving; he doesn’t have time to pause.

DONOVAN:

I need my passport.

She opens the dresser drawer so he can retrieve it.

MARY:

Just give me something to hold onto.

I don’t even care if it’s the truth.

Donovan reaches for her, gently holds her waist.

DONOVAN:

(the truth)

I am doing this for us.

TITLE CARD:
BERLIN

A black sedan drives through the snow, away from the central

airport.

Donovan is in the back seat middle, Hoffman and Agent Pinker

on either side.

HOFFMAN:

Mr. Michener here is your Berlin

escort. He’s an attaché with the US

Embassy.

He refers to the State Department man in the front passenger

seat. The driver is someone with an extremely thick neck and

fleshy ears.

Michener has his arm hooked around the seat to talk back.

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