Die Hard Page #29

POWELL:

(on CB)

Roy? You still with us?

MCCLANE:

Yeah. But all things being equal,

I'd rather be in Philadelphia. By

the way, chalk up two more terrorists.

INTERCUT:

292 POWELL - OUTSIDE 292

POWELL:

They boys'll be glad. We got a pool

going on you.

McClane tries to wrap paper towels on the foot but his grimace

shows that is still hurts like hell.

MCCLANE:

(through his teeth)

Yeah? What's the odds?

POWELL:

You don't want to know.

Suddenly remembering an NYPD course in first aid from ten years

ago, McClane removes the improvised bandage, check the cut

more carefully.

MCCLANE:

(as he work)

Put me down for twenty anyway...I'm

good for it...so, what got you off the

street, Al? You liked lousy coffee,

or what?

Powell doesn't answer right away. At the same time, McClane

swallows, seeing a gleam inside his foot. He gingerly probes,

and pulls out a shard of glass almost three inches long from its

angled gash, his mouth twisted in a silent scream all the way.

POWELL'S VOICE

I...realized I couldn't do what I

had to anymore...at least not out

there. I had an...accident.

McClane throws the glass across the room, forehead bathed in

sweat.

MCCLANE:

(weakly)

They way you drive, I can see why.

POWELL:

(beat, serious)

I...I shot a kid.

Realizing what he's hearing for the first time, McClane's face

shifts to a new kind of pain.

POWELL:

(soft)

Eleven years ago. Oh, it was dark...

he was big for his age...damn ray gun

he had looked real enough...yeah, I had

all the right excuses...but afterwards...

I really couldn't draw my gun again.

MCCLANE:

I...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make

a joke of it.

POWELL:

(offhand)

Hey, you couldn't know.

MCCLANE:

I still feel like sh*t.

POWELL:

Then this won't matter.

(reluctantly)

LAPD's not calling the shots anymore.

And as McClane REACTS we GO TO:

293 INT. VAULT ROOM - NIGHT 293

Hans and Theo lean over a monitor watching a DWP truck near

the parking garage.

THEO *

(tapping the screen)

There's the city engineers...they're

going into the street circuits...But

who are these guys in the suits?

HANS:

That's the FBI...ordering them to cut *

the building's power. They're as

regular as clockwork...or a time lock...

ON Theo's look:

HANS:

...the circuits that cannot be cut...

are cut automatically in reponse to

a terrorist incident...You ask for

miracles, Theo...I give you the FBI...

THEO:

When you're hot, you're hot.

CUT TO:
*

294 EXT. BUILDING 294

As we saw on Theo's screen, the Johnsons and Robinson and

Powell are my a MANHOLE with a CITY ENGINEER. A big CONTROL

BOX is there, cables snaking into the ground where another

CITY WORKER finishes WELDING a last connection.

GUY IN MANHOLE:

We're spliced in down the line.

LITTLE JOHNSON:

Do it...now.

The engineer THROWS GIANT LEVERS. Inside the manhole, SPARKS

SIZZLE and massive contacts CLUNK.

295 THE BUILDING 295

One by one, all the light on all the floors GO OUT.

296 MCCLANE 296

in the bathroom, ripping off his shirt and tying it around his

foot, he REACTS --

MCCLANE:

(into CB)

Powell? What's going on?

INTERCUT:

297 OUTSIDE 297

POWELL:

(watching the others)

Ask the FBI. They've got the terrorist

playbook and they're running it, step

by step.

McClane reacts, worried; he knows better.

298 THE HOSTAGES 298

groan with this new problem:

299 THE VAULT ROOM 299

Theo and Kristoff and Hans huddle over the computer monitor

screen as if it was a warm fireplace. Theo points to the

computer screen; all they can do is wait.

We HEAR the HUMM of a portable generator. The lights go OFF.

The computer screen stays ON. Theo looks over at the safe.

300 SAFE LED READOUT 300

It still reads "FIBER OPTIC TIME LOCK CANNOT BE DISARMED AT

THIS LOCATION. TERMINATE SEQUENCE (Y/N)?"

301 BACK TO SCENE 301

KRISTOFF:

Damn! It didn't go!

THEO:

They're on the building circuit...

it's too local.

HANS:

Encourage them to be bolder.

THEO:

The only thing left for them is the

City Grid...

(worried, typing)

...They may not do it.

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