Enemy of the State

FADE IN:

EXT. SHENANDOAH NATIONAL PARK, SCENIC VIEW LOT - MORNING

Shenandoah mountains. A cold dawn. TWO BLACK TOWN CARS

sit side by side, facing a view of a farming valley below.

Two MEN in dark suits and long coats stand near the

cars, casually on the lookout. If we caught a glimpse

underneath the coat of the taller of the two, we'd see

that he was carrying a 9mm. Glock.

INT. BLACK TOWN CAR - CONTINUOUS

In the backseat of the car sit HAMERSLEY and REYNOLDS,

each well-kept and in his early 50's.

REYNOLDS:

"I know thy works and thy labour

and how thou canst not bear them

that are evil. And thou hast tried

them who say they are apostles and

hast found them to be liars".

Revelations II.

HAMERSLEY:

What the hell does it mean?

REYNOLDS:

It means who's side are you on?

HAMERSLEY:

You didn't ask me to meet you 30

miles from my office for a Bible

study class.

REYNOLDS:

It's a bi-partisan issue. Everyone

needs to swallow hard. No one,

including you, wants to be fingered

as the one obstructing efforts to

crack down on terrorism, and--

HAMERSLEY:

F*** you.

REYNOLDS:

What?

HAMERSLEY:

I said f*** you.

REYNOLDS:

Is that anyway to talk to an old

school chum?

HAMERSLEY:

You're gonna finger me as soft on

terrorism? Terrorism, you

unconscionable a**hole?

REYNOLDS:

There are planes falling out of the

sky, buildings blowing up. American

buildings. Americans getting bombs

in the mail. What are we gonna do!?

HAMERSLEY:

We're not gonna hand you and your

band of lunatics the keys to the

kingdom. I'm not gonna sit in

Congress and write a law that

allows the NSA to point a camera

and a microphone at anything they

damn well feel like. And the next

time you have something to say to

me, we do it above-board, in my

office, like everyone else. Now get

outa my car, I've got a committee

meeting on the hill.

REYNOLDS regards HAMERSLEY a moment, then opens the car

door--

EXT. PARKWAY - MORNING

HAMERSLEY's car snakes down the twisting mountain road.

INT. HAMERSLEY'S CAR - CONTINUOUS

HAMERSLEY MAKES VERBAL NOTES concerning the Reynolds

meeting into his memo-recorder as he drives. He picks

up his cellular phone and punches in a number.

VOICE (O.S.)

Senator Albert's office--

The line goes dead.

HAMERSLEY tries again but can't get a dial tone. Then,

in the rear-view mirror, a BROWN SEDAN gains fast.

Whoever the guy is, he's flying. Then a man with a

rifle leans out the sedan's window. Aims.

HAMERSLEY flies into a blind curve. Tires SCREECH as he

rounds the bend to see

A PROPANE TRUCK. Blocking both lanes of the road.

HAMERSLEY's eyes widen. He stomps the brakes, SKIDS and

SLAMS into the truck. The EXPLOSION engulfs everything.

HAMERSLEY and the car are consumed. The pursuing sedan

slows to a stop. The men watch. The car's an inferno.

The MEN pull a 'U' and drive away.

INT. CRYSTAL CITY, VIRGINIA, TALL OFFICE BLDG. - DAY

A well-appointed big-city law office filled with

citations of merit and pictures of a wife and child.

ROBERT DEAN, a likable young lawyer, sits behind his

desk with his back to an OLDER MAN. He stares at a

commanding view of Washington, D.C. as he listens to a

tired, smoke and whiskey voice.

OLDER MAN (L.T.)

I don't know how much longer we can

hold out, Mr. Dean.

DEAN:

I don't know, either, L.T. Maybe

you guys should get yourself a

labor lawyer.

L.T.

Well that's why I'm here, Mr. Dean.

'Cause you're a labor lawyer.

DEAN:

Good point.

L.T.

Last night, Larry Spinks, he works

the Steel Press, he goes to a bar

with his wife Rosalie to have a

glass of chianti 'cause it's his

birthday, and these two guys, these

Guido mother-f***ers, they jump him

when he goes to the bathroom.

DEAN:

L.T., in this office I'd prefer you

say Italian-Americans.

L.T.

I'm sorry, Mr. Dean. But Larry's in

St. Lukes now, so I'm a little--I'm

not myself. The Union bosses say

unless we take Bellmoth's offer,

it'll only get worse.

DEAN:

That's because your Union bosses

are those Guido mother-f***ers.

L.T.

I don't under--

DEAN:

The Union's trying to railroad you

into accepting terms worse than

what you have now.

L.T.

Why would the Union--

DEAN swivels around in his chair and faces L.T.

DEAN:

Because they've been paid off by

Bellmoth.

L.T.

Mr. Dean--

DEAN:

My name's Bobby. I'm your lawyer.

Don't do anything 'till I talk to you.

DEAN gets up and walks a grateful L.T. to the door,

calling to his secretary as they go--

DEAN (CONT'D)

(calling)

Martha!

MARTHA appears in the doorway...

DEAN (CONT'D)

Larry Spinks, St. Lukes. Send him a

case of chianti from the firm. And

send his wife Rosalie some flowers.

EXT. RESTAURANT - DAY

RACHEL:

How's the trout?

DEAN:

It tastes like fish.

RACHEL:

It is fish.

DEAN:

I mean it tastes like every other

fish I've ever had. Every fish

tastes the same.

RACHEL:

Do you like fish?

DEAN:

Not that much.

DEAN dines in a booth with RACHEL BANKS, 30's. RACHEL

opens her briefcase, removing an 8x10 envelope.

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