Bridge of Spies Page #4

MURPHY:

That would be me.

POWERS:

Deal me in.

An officer enters the room and the banter stops. The pilots

stand. The officer chuckles and gestures for them to sit.

He turns off the flickering TV, takes a seat.

WILLIAMS:

Okay, drivers, here’s the deal. You

have been selected for a mission

which you are not to discuss with

anyone outside of this room. No

one. I don’t care who you trust --

wife, mother, sweetheart, the good

lord when you pray at night -- you

don’t tell any of ‘em anything of

what I’m about to tell you. Each of

you drivers has met certain

qualifications -- high level

security clearance, exceptional

pilot ratings, in excess of the

required hours flight time in a

single seat aircraft. We are

engaged in a war. This war does not

-- for the moment -- involve men at

arms. It involves information. You

will be collecting information. You

will be gathering intelligence about

the enemy -- the intelligence you

gather could give us the upper hand

in a full thermonuclear exchange

with the Soviet Union. Or it could

prevent one. For public purposes --

as far as your wife or mother or

sweetheart or the good lord above --

your mission does not exist. If it

does not exist you do not exist.

You cannot be shot down. You cannot

be captured.

He stands.

WILLIAMS (CONT’D)

You work for the CIA now.

He smiles, turns, and exits.

On the now wary pilots.

12.17.14 FINAL SHOOTING SCRIPT 21.

BROOKLYN COURTHOUSE -- JUDGE BYERS’ CHAMBERS

Judge Byers fixes his tie in a mirror.

JUDGE BYERS:

So, Jim, I heard your guy is

speaking with a phony accent. Does

he keep that up all the time?

He turns to Donovan and Assistant Attorney General William

Tompkins.

DONOVAN:

Actually I’m pretty sure that’s just

the way he talks. He’s got the

Russian name but a British passport.

TOMPKINS:

Well I doubt that’s genuine.

JUDGE BYERS:

So, Jim, where are we at? I see

here you, uh...

He is leaning forward, peering through his glasses at a paper

on his desk. He takes a seat, as do Donovan and Tompkins.

DONOVAN:

Yes, Judge, I -- I just don’t think

three weeks is gonna do it here;

we’ve got a massive amount of

evidence here -

JUDGE BYERS:

You wanna postpone -

DONOVAN:

Six weeks, I mean there’s just

myself and my associate, basically -

JUDGE BYERS:

Jim. Is this serious?

DONOVAN:

Sir?

JUDGE BYERS:

Is this serious?

DONOVAN:

Yes. Indeed it is. It’s, you’ll

see in the filing --

(CONTINUED)

12.17.14 FINAL SHOOTING SCRIPT 22.

CONTINUED:

JUDGE BYERS:

Jim, this man is a Soviet spy.

DONOVAN:

...Allegedly, yeah -

JUDGE BYERS:

C’mon counselor.

DONOVAN:

Your honor!

JUDGE BYERS:

Of course I salute you, we all

salute you for taking on a thankless

task. This man has to have due

process, but let’s not kid each

other.

A knock at the door.

JUDGE BYERS (CONT’D)

He’ll receive a capable defense and,

god willing, he’ll be convicted.

C’mon, counselor, let’s not play

games with this.

He stands and heads for the door. Donovan and Tompkins

stand.

JUDGE BYERS (CONT’D)

Not in my courtroom. We have a date

and we’re going to trial.

He opens the door and walks through it.

OUTSIDE BOROUGH HALL

It is evening. It’s pouring rain.

Donovan exits the building with his briefcase and umbrella.

A taxi approaches.

DONOVAN:

Taxi!

But it passes straight by.

Donovan yells after it:

DONOVAN (CONT’D)

I see your light on! Sonofabitch.

(CONTINUED)

12.17.14 FINAL SHOOTING SCRIPT 23.

CONTINUED:

He sees another man across the street and says, re: the

cabbie:

DONOVAN (CONT’D)

Can’t wait to get back to

Manhattan... His light was on,

right?

The man just stands, smoking. Donovan looks around, still

angry. No cabs.

He starts walking.

DONOVAN (CONT’D)

...Sonofabitch.

He walks on.

He hears another set of footsteps. He looks around. A man

behind. Donovan experiments with picking up his pace.

The man behind seems to match it.

The pursuer is briefly blocked by several men exiting an

apartment building.

Donovan uses this moment to crouch behind a car, trying to

control his breathing. Quiet.

The pursuer runs as far as the corner.

The footsteps stop. A beat as the pursuer surveys the empty

street.

Then they resume, coming closer, and the man circles the

parked car to look down at Donovan.

MAN:

Mr. Donovan.

Donovan is unsure whether to be embarrassed or afraid.

DONOVAN:

What?

He rises and stares the man down. Donovan’s angry.

DONOVAN (CONT’D)

What?

12.17.14 FINAL SHOOTING SCRIPT 24.

BAR:

Donovan faces the man, looking at identification, which he

hands back.

DONOVAN:

CIA.

MAN:

Yeah. Just wanted to chat. How’s

the case going?

DONOVAN:

The case is going great. Couldn’t

be better.

MAN:

Uh-huh. Has your guy talked?

DONOVAN:

...Excuse me?

MAN:

You met him, has he talked? Has he

said anything yet?

Donovan stares at him. Then:

DONOVAN:

We’re not having this conversation.

(CONTINUED)

12.17.14 FINAL SHOOTING SCRIPT

CONTINUED:

The man nods agreeably.

MAN:

No, of course not.

DONOVAN:

No, I mean we’re really not having

it. You’re asking me to violate

attorney-client privilege.

MAN:

Oh c’mon counselor, you -

DONOVAN:

And I wish people like you would

quit saying “Oh c’mon, counselor.”

I didn’t like it the first time it

happened today, a judge said it to

me twice, and the more I hear it,

the more I don’t like it.

MAN:

Ok, well listen, I understand

attorney-client privilege. I

understand all the legal

gamesmanship and I understand that

that’s how you make a living. But

I’m talking to you about something

else -- the security of your

country. I’m sorry if the way I put

it offends you, but we need to know

what Abel is telling you. You

understand me, Donovan? We need to

know. Don’t go Boy Scout on me --

we don’t have a rule book here.

Donovan takes a beat, sizing the man up.

DONOVAN:

You’re agent Hoffman, yeah?

MAN:

Yeah.

DONOVAN:

German extraction?

MAN:

Yeah, so?

DONOVAN:

My name is Donovan, Irish. Both

sides, mother and father.

(MORE)

25.

(CONTINUED)

12.17.14 FINAL SHOOTING SCRIPT 26.

CONTINUED:
(2)

DONOVAN (CONT'D)

I’m Irish, you’re German, but what

makes us both Americans? Just one

thing, one one one. The rule book.

We call it the Constitution. We

agree to the rules, and that’s what

makes us Americans, it’s all that

makes us Americans. So don’t tell

me there’s no rule book and don’t

nod at me like that you sonofabitch.

The man stops nodding and just looks at Donovan appraising

him. Donovan smiles and gets up from the table, gathers his

things.

MAN:

Do we need to worry about you?

DONOVAN:

Not if I’m left alone to do my job.

He grabs a peanut from the dish on the table and walks away

as he pops it into his mouth.

AIRPLANE HANGAR:

The doors of the hangar split like a metal curtain and roll

back. Powers and the other pilots stare in, expectantly.

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