Eichmann Page #2

Eichmann lies in the snow as he listens. Snowflakes drift

onto his cheeks. They MELT the moment they touch his skin.

EICHMANN (V.O.)

I miss you. Though I have not spentthe past years a prisoner, I willnot be free until you and the boysare with me.

Finally, Eichmann sits upright

9 INT. CHAMBER. SAN ANTONIO CHURCH. GENOA. DAY (1950)

Beard thicker, hair greyer, Eichmann sits in a camp-bed. Acandle flickers. Above him, boots STOMP on floorboards.

ITALIAN OFFICER (O.S.)

Hey, sh*t-head, when was he here?!

The SMASH of something shattering. AN ARGUMENT breaks out.

A door opens. BISHOP HUDAL rushes in clutching a Red Cross

passport, ticket and landing permit. Whispers instructions.

EICHMANN (V.O.)

But there is a plan. I will leave.

The priest points to another door. Shaking his hand, Eichmanntakes the documents and opens the wooden door

6.

10 EXT. GIOVANNA C SHIP. DAY (!950)

-stepping out onto the upper-deck of an OLD STEAM-LINER.

Stares at the now-distant Italian coast. A smile on his lips.

EICHMANN (V.O.)

To a place of opportunity andsafety. I am already arranging foryou to join me in this new land.

Turning, Eichmann sees a muscular BLONDE MAN nearby. Blind inone eye. He notices Eichmann. Recognises him. Salutes.

EICHMANN (V.O.)

Life will be good for us there. Ipromise you, my love.

A smile on Eichmann’s lips as he turns back to the sea...

11 INT/EXT. PERSONNEL. SHIN-BET HQ. TEL AVIV, ISRAEL. DAY (1960)

Outside, a young Tel Aviv BUSTLES. White-stone buildings,

already faded by the scorching Israeli sun. A stretch ofocean, the yellow beach. All noise and excitement and energy.

But inside this stuffy office, TWO MEN sit in silence. One, aPERSONNEL OFFICIAL, turns a tape recorder on. The other isPETER MALKIN. Heavier set than when we first saw him.

PERSONNEL OFFICIAL

For the tape, state your name.

MALKIN:

Malkin, Peter.

PERSONNEL OFFICIAL

Mr. Malkin, can you describe your

present role within Shin Bet?

MALKIN:

Desk monkey.

(off the official’s look)

Collections department, German

desk. Tactical co-ordination and

execution. Previously, disguise

specialist and field operative.

PERSONNEL OFFICIAL

And you’ve been out of active

service for eight months now, yes?

MALKIN:

I haven’t been counting.

7.

PERSONNEL OFFICIAL

And do you understand why?

MALKIN:

Anti-Semitism?

PERSONNEL OFFICIAL

Mr. Malkin.

He stops the tape. Fixes Malkin with a look.

PERSONNEL OFFICIAL (CONT’D)

The point of today is to figure out

whether you’re ready to return to

the field. So are you gonna f*** me

around, or d’you wanna go back to

chasing the bad guys? Hmm? OK. Let’s

try that again.

Off Malkin, staring straight forward.

12 INT. BATHROOM. SHIN-BET HQ. DAY

A tap runs. Malkin leans over the sink. A hip-flask, clenchedin one hand. He takes a hit. Lets it sit before swallowing.

Returns the flask to his pocket. Ignores someone BANGING onthe door. Puts his hand down on the sink

-a BLUE, WOVEN BRACELET comes out from under his jacketsleeve. He stares at it for a long moment.

13 INT. CANTEEN. SHIN-BET HQ. DAY

Malkin sits at a steel bench, chewing through falafel balls.

Clusters of people sit and talk, but Malkin remains alone.

His jacket is off, and his bracelet visible.

Across from him he notices a dark-haired, sharp-eyed agentHANNA enter with a friend. He watches her a moment.

AHARONI (O.S.)

How’s it in purgatory, fuckhead?

Stood with two friends, CIA-trained AHARONI sneers at Malkin.

A sense of superiority hangs off him like a bad cologne.

MALKIN:

You should come visit more often.

AHARONI:

Oh yeah?

8.

MALKIN:

Yeah. It’d make a welcome change to

the inside of the Old Man’s ass.

The friend blurts out a laugh. A look from Aharoni.

Across from them, Hanna is looking over. Makes eye contactwith Malkin. Aharoni sees.

AHARONI:

We just got back from Cologne. Long

nights. You know what she told me,

about you and her? It wasn’t that you

hit the prick we were meant to be

watching. It wasn’t you f***ing my

mission. No, no. She said it was more

your limp dick and faggoty bracelet-

WHUMP! Malkin SLAMS Aharoni’s head into the table- Aharoni

recovers, GRABS MALKIN’S HAND, TWISTING IT BACK

-but Malkin TURNS, too quick, seizing Aharoni’s arm- holds it

as he JABS Aharoni in the rib, DROPPING HIM.

The room respond- people CHEERING, WHOOPING, some joining in

Aharoni’s two friends weigh in- Malkin DUCKS a swipe from thefirst- LIGHTNING-FAST PUNCH TO THE GUT, ELBOW TO THE FACE-

-the second GRABS MALKIN, but he SLIPS OUT OF HIS GRASP,

SPINS AND SHOOTS HIS HAND OUT, GRABBING THE GUY’S THROAT AND

-SLAMS HIM DOWN INTO THE GROUND.

Just as another Mossad agent goes to enter the fray- THREEPEOPLE GRAB MALKIN FROM BEHIND, DRAGGING HIM OFF. He tries to

wriggle free. And, as he’s pulled away a NOISE- the sound ofa GAS-FIRE IGNITING- BUILDS AND BUILDS-

In amongst the crowd, we catch a GLIMPSE of an incongruousWOMAN- blonde hair, red cheeks, DRESSED LIKE A POLISH PEASANT-

Malkin STOPS STRUGGLING. Stares at where this woman was a

moment ago. He doesn’t even notice as he’s dragged past Hanna.

INT. HAREL’S OFFICE. MOSSAD HQ. DAY

Stood at his window staring out, is 48-year-old spymasterISSER “Old Man” HAREL. Built like a pitbull with a voice to

match. His secretary DVORA, at her type-writer nearby.

Sat in the centre of the room is Malkin. Watches Harel, who

looks like he’s deciding whether or not to explode. Finally

9.

HAREL:

Dvora, out you go. Come on. You

know what you get like when I getangry. Get on! Move it!

Affronted, Dvora stares daggers at Malkin as she leaves.

HAREL (CONT’D)

First you waste 30 minutes playingclowns at your reassessment. Thenyou put six-inches worth in ourchief interrogator’s face.

MALKIN:

(beat)

It won’t happen again.

Harel studies him a moment.

HAREL:

You know I used to grow oranges, onthe Herzliya kibbutz?

MALKIN:

Oh. You’ve never mentioned it.

HAREL:

You wanna talk about your smart mouth

as well as your shitty attitude?

(Malkin holds hands up)

It was before all this. Brits were

still here and people like us couldgrow oranges. Arabs worked with usthen, peacefully. One of ‘em, nameno-one could remember or pronounce,

looks like a stereotype of astereotype. So we call him Arab theArab, which he seems to have no

problem with. Nice guy. Family man.

But one morning I wake up togunfire. And Arab, who just lastnight was wrapping Diphenyl paper

around oranges- now he’s got hishands on a Kalashnikov.

MALKIN:

So what, you shot him?

HAREL:

You know what I saw, before I did?

He hesitated. Stood in a pool ofblood. And I could see him thinking:

how has this happened. Why am Ihere, doing this? He was lost.

10.

MALKIN:

And then he was dead.

HAREL:

Six months, unpaid leave- I hearanother peep it’ll be a year. Comeback when you know why you’re here.

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