Enemy of the State Page #17

INT. RACHEL'S KITCHEN - NIGHT

DEAN enters. The place is still.

DEAN:

Rachel?

No answer. DEAN drifts through the living room. A lamp

is knocked over on the floor. DEAN keeps moving into

the bedroom. He stops in the doorway - eyes fixed inside.

DEAN'S POV:
RACHEL lies on her stomach, naked in bed.

DEAN:

(approaching)

Rachel?

She doesn't respond. He touches her.

Nothing.

He turns her over. Her face is frozen, eyes open, neck

purpled and bruised with signs of strangulation.

DEAN:

Oh God--

DEAN wants to throw up but holds it down.

Then, under a night table, he sees a shirt. He grabs it.

DEAN'S POV:
An oxford button-down. The inside collar is

stamped with a dry-cleaner's marker reading: R. DEAN.

Panic overtakes horror as DEAN quickly searches for

anything else of his that may have been planted inside

the apartment.

Under the bed - a cufflink.

In the bathroom - a hairbrush.

On the desk - documents with his name on them.

DEAN shoves everything into a garbage bag. Grabbing a

towel, he retraces his steps, wiping his prints from

everything he touched.

Exiting, he wipes off the doorknob as--

A NEIGHBORS DOOR OPENS. A COUPLE stumbles out, laughing,

kissing...and noticing DEAN leaving Rachel's condo.

INT. UNDERGROUND PARKING GARAGE - NIGHT

JERRY walks alone through the large underground garage

on the way to his car. He pauses, thinking he's heard

something.

Nothing.

He continues walking. He reaches his car. Suddenly

someone comes up behind him fast. JERRY spins--

--it's DEAN.

DEAN:

(whispering)

Jerry--

JERRY:

Christ!

DEAN:

Ssh!

JERRY:

Bobby--

DEAN:

It's the NSA. They're the ones

doing this.

JERRY:

Bobby--

DEAN:

The NSA's doing this 'cause they

think I have something. And they

killed--

JERRY:

Calm down.

DEAN:

They killed Rachel.

JERRY:

(pause)

Rachel's dead?

DEAN:

Yes.

JERRY:

Jesus.

DEAN:

My stuff's all over her apartment.

JERRY:

Bobby--

DEAN:

They're framing me.

JERRY:

Why would they--

DEAN:

I don't know. I mean--

JERRY:

Why would the NSA--

DEAN:

I don't know!

JERRY:

You're tired.

DEAN:

Jerry--

JERRY:

Listen to me.

DEAN:

You gotta--

JERRY:

No, listen to me. You gotta let me

bring you in.

DEAN:

No, I--

JERRY:

You gotta let me bring you in to

the police.

DEAN:

I won't make it to the police. They

won't let me get there. You go.

JERRY:

To the cops?

DEAN:

To the NSA. Make a deal. Tell 'em

to stop. Tell 'em I don't have what

they're after. Make a deal.

JERRY:

Bobby, you're in way over your head.

DEAN:

Go to 'em, Jerry.

JERRY:

I have a family.

DEAN:

So do I!

JERRY looks at the ground for a long moment...

JERRY:

I'm sorry, man.

DEAN:

No. No, it's okay.

DEAN starts to leave...

JERRY:

Bobby? Piece of advice?

DEAN:

Yeah?

JERRY:

Turn yourself in.

DEAN:

Jerry?

JERRY:

Yeah?

DEAN:

Go f*** yourself.

EXT. STREET - EARLY MORNING

Establishing. A quiet street in Dean's neighborhood.

Several REPORTERS are camped in Dean's driveway

entrance, sipping coffees. Farther down the street, a

JEEP GRAND CHEROKEE is parked. The driver waits and

watches.

EXT. BACKYARD - SAME TIME

DEAN sneaks between two large houses, ducking by

windows and scaling a fence. Somewhere a DOG BARKS a

warning as DEAN plows through a large hedge, entering

the backyard to his home.

INT. DEAN'S HOUSE/KITCHEN - SAME TIME

DEAN quietly unlocks the door and enters. He listens.

The house is quiet. Empty.

INT. DEAN'S FOYER - DAY

KEYS JINGLE in the front lock. The door opens and STACY

enters.

The TV suddenly REMOTES ON - VOLUME LOUD.

She turns as DEAN approaches fast--

STACY:

Robert--

DEAN's hand cups her mouth as he pulls her into a

pantry closet.

INT. PANTRY CLOSET - CONTINUOUS

DEAN:

(barely a whisper)

Listen to me. The house is bugged.

So we gotta be quiet, okay?

STACY nods understanding. DEAN slowly removes his hand.

DEAN (CONT'D)

(whispering)

Is Eric in school?

STACY:

Yes.

DEAN:

Has anyone been by? Police? FBI?

STACY:

Just reporters.

DEAN:

I wish you'd gone to your parents

like I asked you.

STACY:

This is my house. Nobody's kicking

me out of my house. I picked those

drapes.

DEAN:

I don't think anybody wants the

drapes, Stacy, I think the drapes

are okay.

STACY:

What happened to your head?

DEAN:

I was in a car chase and a small

explosion. Now listen to me: The

NSA is behind this. They think that

guy I told you about, Daniel Zavitz,

they think Zavitz gave me a tape or

computer chip of some kind that

could be damaging to them. So

they're doing all these things

electronically. The bank records,

the surveillance. They're the ones

who broke into the house. Now I

know there's no reason to believe

me. But I love you. And I love our

son. So just believe me anyway.

(pause)

Please.

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