Circle of Treason Page #8

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(watching him scrub at the

stain)

Relax, Dan. On that tie, it’s an

improvement.

Dan grins. He likes Sandy.

JEANNE:

Well, if it turns out to be nothing

then so much the better. You’ll do

it?

DAN PAYNE:

Sure. Who am I looking at?

INT. CIA - OFFICE OF SECURITY - FILE ROOM - DAY

Dan opens a filing cabinet drawer, riffling through the

security files held on CIA personnel until he comes to AMES,

ALDRICH H. He pulls the file.

EXT. ARLINGTON COUNTY COURTHOUSE - DAY

Dan walks past a sign for the courthouse and heads inside the

bland municipal building on N. Courthouse Ave.

INT. ARLINGTON COUNTY COURTHOUSE - SUITE 6200 - DAY

Dan is at a carrel in a bland executive suite, thumbing

through a land registry file. Deeds of title for 2512 North

Randolph street. The cost: $540,000. He flips back a couple

of pages, unable to find something.

ANGLE ON FRONT DESK

Dan approaches a CLERK playing Tetris on a Nintendo Gameboy.

DAN PAYNE:

Hi, think you could rustle up the

mortgage records for 2512 North

Randolph Street?

CLERK:

(eyes on the game)

Uh-uh.

DAN PAYNE:

Or the lien. There’s no copy of

either attached to the deed.

39.

CLERK:

Nope.

DAN PAYNE:

Well, all righty... just point me

in the direction, I’ll look myself.

The clerk wipes out on Tetris. Irritated.

CLERK:

If there’s a mortgage or lien

attached to the property, it will

be attached to the property deed.

DAN PAYNE:

They never took out a mortgage?

CLERK:

(snotty)

It would appear not. Was there

anything else?

Dan stares, a beat, then shakes his head.

DAN PAYNE:

(re:
the Gameboy)

Cool game.

INT. SUPERMARKET - DAY

Canned music plays in the b.g. Jeanne, studying the

bewildering array of microwave meals, reacts as she sees:

At the far end of an aisle, Rick is trying to find the right

size diapers for his son, sat in a sling on his chest.

Impatient, he grabs one at random and adds it to his basket.

Jeanne heads down another aisle before he can see her.

EXT. SUPERMARKET - DAY

Jeanne comes out with her single bag of groceries and crosses

the parking lot. Ahead, she sees Rick struggling with the

car seat in his wife’s Honda while holding the baby. She

veers off to avoid passing but it’s too late. He’s seen her.

RICK:

(surprised)

Jeanne!? Hey, you mind? These

things are just impossible.

She hesitates. Walks over.

40.

JEANNE:

The baby or the car seat?

He smiles and we sense the familiarity between them. Before

she can protest, he’s handed her the baby so he can focus on

reattaching the seat. Jeanne holds the child, uncomfortable.

RICK:

They keeping you busy?

JEANNE:

Oh, you know. I can’t complain.

RICK:

Who’d listen anyway?

(a dry smile)

Still got you stuck looking at

those losses?

JEANNE:

These things take time.

He grins at her, having succeeded in buckling the seat. As

he takes the infant from her and settles him in the car seat:

RICK:

Need a ride?

JEANNE:

I’ll walk.

RICK:

Sure?

JEANNE:

I’m sure.

Rick looks at her. Grins. Goes around to get in the car.

RICK:

Let me know, you ever want to hash

anything out. Like old times.

JEANNE:

Sure, Rick. Thanks.

He starts the car and pulls away, Jeanne watching after him.

EXT. A STREET IN VIRGINIA - DAY

A row of small bungalows in a working-class neighborhood. A

taxi deposits Jeanne outside.

41.

INT. THOMPSON HOME - DAY

A retired case officer, COLIN THOMPSON, early-60s, shows

Jeanne in. He looks pale and sleepless. Haunted eyes.

They pass a bedroom on the ground floor that looks like a

hospital room:
a woman lying in bed, IV tubes in her arms.

JEANNE (V.O.)

I was sorry to hear about Judith.

EXT. THOMPSON HOME - YARD - DAY

They sit near his postage-stamp lawn, sipping ice tea.

JEANNE:

When did she get ill?

THOMPSON:

Summer of last year, right after I

retired. We were gonna move to

Florida, see more of the grandkids.

A look to say, ‘you can see how that turned out.’

THOMPSON (CONT’D)

I’m telling you, Jeanne, don’t ever

get sick or old in this country

without money.

Jeanne offers the wistful smile he seems to expect.

THOMPSON (CONT’D)

It was long after what happened in

eighty five. If you were looking

for a motive.

His look tells her he knows why she’s here. Jeanne buries a

flicker of surprise and recovers smoothly:

JEANNE:

Do you remember where you were when

you first heard about the losses?

THOMPSON:

I was in C.I, running Yuzhin and

Martynov with the Feds till eighty

seven. After what happened to

them, ah, I’d had enough.

(and it pains him still)

You ever meet Martynov? He had two

kids, a boy and a girl. Beautiful

kids. He worshipped those kids.

42.

Jeanne watches him.

THOMPSON (CONT’D)

So they finally got around to

looking for a mole.

(Jeanne doesn’t deny it)

Who have you got working with you?

(Jeanne doesn’t say)

Just you? It figures. They did

not want to admit it was one of our

own.

JEANNE:

But you think it was?

THOMPSON:

I think whatever happened, it

didn’t matter to them, not after

Iran-Contra. They were too busy

covering their asses. But it

matters.

Jeanne’s silence seems to agree with him. They sit there,

the sun going down, light bouncing off the windows where his

wife lies dying.

INT. CIA - NEW HEADQUARTERS BUILDING - CIC PEN - NIGHT

As she waits on hold on the phone at her cubbyhole, Sandy

studies a 201 (operational) file on Rosario Casas Dupuy.

Photos and biographical information. A shot of a younger

Rosario and her father shaking hands with President Turbay at

a Colombian football stadium.

ANALYST 1

Why’d you think Redmond brought her

in to CIC? He’s playing favorites.

Sandy reacts as she realizes they’re discussing her. She

peers around her cubicle. Across the room, two MALE ANALYSTS

are passing through with coffee. They haven’t noticed her.

ANALYST 2

You blame him? Whose ass would you

rather look at. Hers or mine?

They go, chuckling. Sandy stares. Her call comes through.

SANDY:

(into phone)

Hey, Steve?

43.

INT. U.S. EMBASSY - CIA SECTION - BOGOTA - INTERCUT

On the phone in his office, with a Colombian flag on the wall

and a view of a Spanish Colonial courtyard, a handsome

POLITICAL ANALYST examines aerial surveillance footage of

jungle laboratories and coca fields.

STEVE:

How’s my favorite analyst?

SANDY:

I need a favor.

STEVE:

Name it.

SANDY:

I want you to look into someone for

me. Family name, Dupuy. Her

father was governor of Tolima, he

died in ‘83.

STEVE:

What are we looking for?

Emeralds?

Cocaine?

SANDY:

It’s an SE matter.

STEVE:

You’re still in Soviet? Read a

paper. War on Drugs is where it’s

at, baby. Federal narcotics

budget’s at nine billion.

SANDY:

I need an idea of their financial

picture.

STEVE:

No problem. But I can save us both

some time. If the family’s

politically connected, they have

money. This is Colombia. Nobody

makes butter down here without

skimming a little cream.

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