Demolition Man

FADE IN:

EXT. BLACK SKY - NIGHT

Dark, ominous clouds of smoke. A beat of semi-calm.

And then... A long blast of TRACER FIRE cuts through.

And another. And another. We TILT DOWN to discover we

are --

EXT. LOS ANGELES - AIRBORNE - MOVING - NIGHT (1998)

A city on fire. A block here, block there. More TRACER

FIRE. A cross between the LA riots and Gulf War. A

SUPERED TITLE:
LA RIOT III. And then FADING IN BELOW:

MONTH 4. We CONTINUE MOVING ABOVE the ravaged city --

VOICE #1 (V.O.)

(filtered)

You imagine what it was like when

they had to fly choppers through

this sh*t?

VOICE #2 (V.O.)

Not even.

Gliding totally silently INTO FRAME is the biggest,

darkest, midnight blue blimp you've ever seen. Small

gold letters on the side -- LAPD. Fully armored beneath.

Woven kevlar on the sides. BULLETS REBOUND with a long

ZZZZZIP off the sides. PING SOFTLY off the plastic armor

on the bottom.

VOICE #1 (V.O.)

I don't understand where we're

going and why the hell we're

bothering anyhow...

A new voice responds. This one brooks no discussion --

SPARTAN (V.O.)

Because there's anger and there's

frustration, and then there's pure

f***ing evil...

INT. BLIMP POD - CONTINUOUS ACTION - NIGHT

JOHN SPARTAN peers down into the fiery landscape.

SPARTAN:

Where we're going is pure f***ing

evil.

(beat)

Thirty people who were riding that

muni bus are still missing. I've

got this bad hunch about who took

them and where they are...

EXT. EXTREME SOUTH CENTRAL LA - FROM ABOVE - AIRBORNE -

NIGHT:

Way up ahead, amid the flames, is a fortress. A square

city block. Walled. Something out of the middle ages.

The walls are entirely made from stacked abandoned cars.

INT. BLIMP POD - NIGHT

Spartan is dragging a heavy bag up towards the door.

PILOT #2 looks at him curiously.

PILOT #2

How come they call you Demolition

Man? Are you with the bomb squad?

Spartan gets his bag into position.

SPARTAN:

I just...

(shrugs

apologetically)

... demolish things.

He checks out the window. They're not quite there.

SPARTAN:

I do my job, sh*t happens.

(to Pilot #1)

Get a thermo.

The PILOT takes a thermogram of the building in the

middle of the compound. We see a series of heat-outlined

figures moving inside.

PILOT #1

Six. One still, in the middle.

The rest moving around. I don't

see any thirty people.

SPARTAN:

(checking the thermo)

What's that?

To the naked eye, out the window, tucked against the

wall of cars, a large tarp. To the thermo, the still

warm inner workings of the muni bus. Faint outlines of

the engine, drive train, even seats and frame. Bingo.

Spartan takes a deep breath. Loosens up his right

shoulder. Loosens up his left. Checks the gun on his

right hip. Checks the gun on his left. They both cross

draw. Reaches down to the bag at his feet. LAPD in

reflective letters on the side of a backpack. Spartan

yanks some kind of rope out of it.

PILOT #2

Isn't that for getting people out

of burning buildings...

SPARTAN:

Yeah, sometimes...

Slaps a carabiner onto a big eyebolt by the door. They're

dead center now over the complex below. He opens the

door. Jumps out.

EXT. BLIMP - NIGHT

Spartan falls three hundred feet from the blimp. Dead

silent. The line runs free behind him. It's a giant

fireproof bungee cord. As the downward force of gravity

and the upward pull of the bungee become exactly the

same, Spartan stops dead in the air for just the briefest

moment. Whips out a Bowie knife and slashes the cord

above his head. Falls free the last ten feet to the roof

of the building. Lands on his feet. Lightning cross

draw. A gun appears in each hand.

EXT. FORTRESS - MAIN BUILDING - ROOFTOP - NIGHT

A lookout pops up on Spartan's right. Spartan clobbers

him. Another lookout pops up on Spartan's left. Spartan

ducks, rolls quietly, clobbers him, too. Listens. No

one's taken notice. Holsters the guns. Moves in towards

the roof hatch.

INT. FORTRESS - MAIN BUILDING - THIRD FLOOR - NIGHT

Stacked with armaments and stolen goods. M70's straight

outta the National Guard Armory. Crates of ammo. Stacks

of looted Sony HoloSets still in the boxes.

Spartan makes his way carefully along. Ready. Spins at

a SOUND. Nothing there. Spartan crouches low. Slips

around the crates. At the far end, a very large guard

is doing just the same thing to peer at where Spartan

just was.

Spartan launches himself at the guard. Hammers his head

against the floor. This guy is not getting up again for

a long time. Spartan spins at a SOUND. Another equally

large guard dives on Spartan from behind. He never makes

contact. Spartan uses his momentum to fling him past and

into the wall. This guy isn't getting up again in the

near future either. Now the room is clear. Moves

towards the stairs.

INT. FORTRESS - MAIN BUILDING - SECOND FLOOR - NIGHT

SIMON PHOENIX snorts a long pale blue line up one

nostril. A long pink line up the other. One blue eye,

one brown eye. Blond hair. Black skin. Looks up at

another thug. Punches up the security cams on half a

dozen slightly futuristic monitors. Unconscious guards

can be seen on all of them. And on the last, Spartan,

coming... Phoenix jabs a loaded orange syringe into an

arm. The drugs all hit various lobes.

PHOENIX:

Motherf***er.

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