Die Hard Page #22
209 ANGLE ON SERVICE ELEVATOR - MCCLANE 209
wheels the chair to the service elevator, opens the door and
block them with a fire axe. He looks in -- the top of the car
can just be seen thirty-five floors below.
210 INT. 3RD FLOOR 210
James hands the shell to Alexander, who expertly loads it into
the anti-tank gun. Alexaneder lifts the gun to his shoulder
and aims.
211 INT. 38TH FLOOR 211
McClane push the chair into the shaft.
MCCLANE:
Geronimo, muthafucker!
For a long moment there is nothing, then: the shaft is filled
with light, then SOUND -- an ungodly ROAR -- and McClane is
thrown back across the elevator corridor against the other
back of doors by the concussion wave.
The explosion, like a firestorm, rips across the floor:
213 BLOWING OUT THE MACHINE GUN NEXT AND JAMES AND 213
ALEXANDER:
214 SHATTERING WINDOWS 214
215 SENDING DESKS, CHAIRS, PHONES, AND TYPEWRITERS 215
FLYING:
216 EXT. AVENUE OF THE STARS 216
The police take cover behind their cars. Powell, Robinson,
and Mitchell look like they've seen the face of God as the
building rocks from the blast. Henry's cigarette falls from
his mouth as a desk is sent hurtling across Avenue of the Stars
into the trees across the street.
217 INT. UNDERGROUND PARKING GARAGE - ON WILLIAM - SAME 217
watching it on TV, feeling it all around him.
WILLIAM:
Oh, Jesus...
218 EXT. DOWN ON THE STREET - SAME 218
Dick Thornburg's crew is taping.
THORNBURG:
(in awe)
Unreal.
(to the cameraman)
Did you get all that?
CAMERAMAN:
Yep.
Thornburg looks at his competitors still setting up.
THORNBURG:
Eat your heart out, Channel Four.
221 221
The hostages are shaken and the terrorists guarding them
aren't too sure of themselves either. Only Hans is relatively
calm.
FRANCO:
They're using artillery on us -- !
HANS:
You idiot, it's not the police...
(pause)
...It's him.
She comforts Ginny.
224 INT. 32ND FLOOR - MCCLANE - SAME 224
He sits up and lifts the CB.
MCCLANE:
Al! Al, the guys in the car, did
they make it?
INTERCUT:
225 EXT. POWELL 225
on the street, watching as the survivors are pulled out of the
wreck and to safety.
POWELL:
(on CB)
Safe and sound, thanks to you.
What the f*** was that?
MCCLANE:
The plastique I found.
(worried)
Is the building on fire?
POWELL:
No, but it's gonna need one hell
of a paint job and a shitload of
screen doors.
(looking off,
nodding)
One spotters say you got two with
that blast.
MCCLANE:
Two? Are you sure?
Before Powell can answer Robinson comes running up to him.
ROBINSON:
Is that him?
POWELL:
Yessir.
ROBINSON:
(reaching for Powell's
CB)
Give me that.
(angrily at McClane)
Now, listen to me, mister, I don't
know what you think you're doing,
but demolishing a building doesn't
fall under the definition of 'help'!
There's hundreds of people out here
and you covered half of them in
pieces of glass --
MCCLANE:
Glass, my ass! Who the f*** is this?
ROBINSON:
This is Deputy Chief of Police
Dwayne T. Robinson, and I'm in
charge of this situation.
McClane leans tiredly against the elevator door.
MCCLANE:
Well, from up here, it looks like
you're in charge of sh*t, Dwayne.
I haven't seen such a f***ed up
operation since the
Bride of Frankenstein. Ask
the guys in the armored car if
they minded a little flying glass.
ROBINSON:
Listen a**hole -- !
MCCLANE:
(exploding)
A**hole? I'm not the one who just
for buttfucked on national TV,
Dwayne! Now if you're not part
of the solution, quit bein' part of the
f***in' problem! Get off the
Goddamn radio and put Al back on!
McClane is so furious, he's out of breath.
226 INT. LIMO - ARGYLE - SAME 226
Argyle nods in agreement.
ARGYLE:
Tell 'em, Mr. Mac! Tell 'em!
227 INT. 33RD FLOOR - ON MCCLANE 227
still seething. There is a long pause on the CB, then:
POWELL'S VOICE
Hello, Roy. How're you feeling?
MCCLANE:
(pissed)
Pretty f***in' unappreciated.
INTERCUT:
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