Deep Rising Page #4

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MULLIGAN:

You know what my goal is? Before I

die I want to make love to a woman

from every country on earth.

VIVO:

You mean countries that are

acknowledged by the UN...or like

made up countires too?

MULLIGAN:

What the hell does that mean?

VIVO:

Like Mamooli's country...

MAMOOLI:

What you talkin'? Samoa's a county!

VIVO:

It's a dot on a map...

MULLIGAN:

Map...no map...I don't give a sh*t

...they got women on Samoa, it's on

the list.

HANOVER:

Mr. Billy you're in the batter's

box.

Hanover watches calmly as BILLY, the Aborigine, cracks his fist

against the side of Pantucci's head, knocking him out of Vivo's arms.

BILLY:

At home we denosy the nosy.

BILLY hoists Pantucci. He draws his knife under Pantucci's bloody

nose.

HANOVER:

We're not savage here Mr. Billy...

we're professionals. Hold him...Mr.

Chin...

The Chinese merc steps forward, and whaps Pantucci upside the head

with a cruelly accurate crescent kick. Pantucci hits the wall hard,

crumbling. Chin lifts him.

HANOVER:

Anyone else?

Massive Mason steps forward.

MASON:

I'll take a go and the I vote we

throw the little weasel overboard...

MULLIGAN:

I vote we slit his throat THEN throw

him overboard...

Mason raises his ham of a fist drawing his tree trunk arm back, taking

dead aim at Pantucci's face. He never gets the punch off. His arm is

caught from behind. He looks over his shoulder to Finnegan. Gripping

his wrist. Right in his face.

FINNEGAN:

...this is not a democracy. You

don't get a vote.

Mason, enraged, swings with his free hand.

Finnegan twists his arm sharply, sending Mason's head into the steel

wall, knocking the big man senseless.

The other mercenaries go to draw their weapons. Before the guns are

out of holsters, Finnegan swings a spear gun into Hanover's face, an

inch from his eye.

FINNEGAN:

I'll say it again for the hearing

impaired...

Finnegan c*cks the spear. CLICK! Hanover does not blink. Everyone

freezes. With his free hand Finnegan lifts Pantucci to his unsteady

feet, the spear stays poised. Finnegan backs out of the room.

HANOVER:

This isn't right Finnegan. I've got

a contract.

FINNEGAN:

(RECITING)

20 hours on the clock. Out and back.

Double for overtime.

HANOVER:

And no questions asked.

FINNEGAN:

Who asked any?

HANOVER:

He did...with a crowbar...you know

the rules on a broken contract.

FINNEGAN:

I know it...but you want to get

where you want to get, and back? I

need a chief engineer, and unless

you got a replacement, I'd highly

recommend overlooking the

indescretion.

With that Finnegan leads Pantucci out of the hold, slamming the door

behind him.

PANTUCCI:

Thanks...

Finnegan turns his gaze to Pantucci. It makes the smaller man quiver.

FINNEGAN:

You put me in that position again

I'll throw you overboard myself.

Finnegan stalks off. Pantucci swallows hard, knowing he means it.

CUT TO:

32INT. FUJI MARU - NIGHT

A man strides down the hall of an executive passageway, his face

obscured in shadows. He has a CANISTER in his hands. Walks through a

door MARKED:

"AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY"

CUT TO:

33INT. COMPUTER/CONTROL MONITOR ROOM - NIGHT

The brain center for the whole ship. Rows of computer mainframes,

laser-guided imagers and D.T. processors. No humans needed. And none

are present. Except one -- The Man strides purposefully down a row of

computers, makes a left, then a right. He knows exactly where he's

going. He arrives at an ultra-high-tech CONSOLE. The cerebellum.

Three similar canisters are plugged into the console. The Man unscrews

the middle canister. Screws his canister into its place. Sets the

TIMER to 0:
300 hours. Pushes a button.

The TIMER starts to COUNT DOWN.

CUT TO:

34EXT. THE FUJI MARU - NIGHT

All LIT UP and looking beautiful. The wind is stronger. The party is

wilder. The BAND louder. The people drunker. Rain begins to fall.

Everybody moans and heads for cover. The deck's huge hydralic canopy

begins to close, reviving the party spirit.

CUT TO:

35INT. VAULT ROOM - NIGHT

A gold card with a black stripe slides into the security lock of a

high tech vault. Lights blink. Tumblers roll. One after another the

electronic locks unlock. Trillian stands back as the massive vault

door swings open. With a quick look over her shoulder, she enters the

vault.

CUT TO:

36INT. VAULT - NIGHT

Trillian consults a list, looking for one very specific vault box.

Finding it, she pulls a lock pick from her fabulous coiffure, and

picks the lock in nothing flat. A pro.

Flipping open the box, Trillian removes the only thing she came for.

A dazzling diamond ring with the center stone the size of an egg. With

a twist, she pops the stone from the setting, holds it up to admire it

in the light...

CANTON (V.O.)

It is an amazing stone...

Trillian grits her teeth, and turns to...Canton, the Captain, and two

burly Chinese security men.

CANTON:

...what were you planning on doing

with it?

TRILLIAN:

Retiring.

CANTON:

Well you can still procede with your

plans then...in prison...Captain...

escort the lady...

Canton exits. The Captain steps forward, and removes the diamond ring

from Trillian's hand.

CAPTAIN:

Madamoiselle...you are not a lady.

He slaps her across the face. Trillian flushes, touches the drop of

blood at her lip...and decks the Captain with a vicious right cross.

TRILLIAN:

And you...Monsieur...you are not a

gentleman.

CUT TO:

37INT. VEGETABLE LOCKER - NIGHT

A hatch door bursts open. Trillian is thrown inside. The DOOR SLAMS

SHUT. Trillian looks around. No windows. One door. Lots of fruit and

vegetables. Trillian accepts the hopelessness of her situation. She

takes an apple, sits down and bites deeply, running her options.

CUT TO:

38INT. COMPUTER/CONTROL MONITOR ROOM - SAME TIME

The CANISTER TIMER finishes counting down -- 4 -- 3 -- 2 -- 1. It

suddenly EMITS a high-energy HUM. Intense electro-static, which builds

into...

CUT TO:

39INT. SAIPAN PILOT HOUSE - NIGHT

...A screeching guitar solo...

The Allman Brothers Band pulses out of the speakers. Finnegan is

prepping the wound over Pantucci's eye for sutures. As he swabs it

carefully, Leila is at the helm keeping the speeding, bouncing, boat

on course.

PANTUCCI:

Here's what I think...I think these

mokes below are a hit sqaud.

FINNEGAN:

I saw these guy perform...at Altmont

...you know that? They opened for

the Stones...

He carefully threads the surgical needle.

PANTUCCI:

Right now...there's some bozo

sitting on his yacht at those

coordinates they gave us, sipping

his scotch and soda...totally

unawares that we are about to

deliver 500 kgs of high power

torpedo to light up his ass...that's

what's down there in that hold and

who knows what the hell else...

CUT TO:

40INT. HOLD - NIGHT

The top of another wooden crate is popped revealing the answer to

Pantucci's question: a chilling display of firepower. Pulse rifles.

Hand held gatling guns with laser sightings. Oblong grenades. The

latest in death delivery systems.

Hanover and his men lift and load. Slamming shells into chambers. KA-

CHANG! KA-CHANG! KA-CHANG! These boys know their toys.

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