G.I. Jane Page #18

EXT. OCEAN - DAY

As the helo swoops down onto the ocean deck.

INT. HELO - DAY

The trainees double-check wet gear and survival vests. On

Jordan's nod, they push an inflatable life boat ("ILB") to

the helo door. It's rolled up into a rubber log.

THE CHIEF:

Remember! The one thing you can

count on in any mission is that

anything mechanical will fail! If

you get stuck out here, do not call

me, for you will no longer be in my

class! Try the Coast Guard!

The HELO PILOT slows to five knots. The Chief gives

Jordan the go-ahead nod.

JORDAN:

(to her crew)

One-second intervals! Go!

EXT. OCEAN - DAY

The ILB splashes down into the ocean. Jordan's crew helo-

casts in after it.

From the door of the circling helo, the Chief watches

as...

Jordan's crew swims to the ILB, bobbing in the swells.

Flea turns a handle on the CO2 tank meant to inflate the

boat. Nothing happens.

FLEA:

C'mon, c'mon...

Cortez tries to help. The handle spins in his grip.

CORTEZ:

This tank's not gonna cut it, el-

tee. Handle's stripped.

Jordan looks skyward. 100 feet overhead, the Chief gives

her a parting salute as the helo lifts away.

SLUTNIK:

I just wonder how that happened.

JORDAN:

Cortez, see if you can dig out the

tools without losing the rest of out

gear. Try a wrench on that thing.

INT. HELO - DAY

The helo turns into the morning sun. PILOT and CO-PILOT

drop visors.

PILOT'S POV:
Of dots in the sun. What the hell are try?

SMACK! Something hits the windscreen, splattering red and

brown.

THE CHIEF:

What happening?!

PILOT:

F***ing pelicans! Hang on!

He starts to bank clear -- but not fast enough.

EXT. HELO - DAY

More birds pepper-shot the helo: One SHREDS through the

main rotor, another through the tail rotor. Another bird

gets sucked right into...

The main turbine.

INT. HELO - DAY

A SHARP BANG... a WICKED SHIMMY... and now they whole helo

loses power.

PILOT:

Holy... LET'S GYRATE!

As the pilot wrestles controls, the co-pilot rigs for

auto-gyration. But the bank they started is working

against them:
The helo is coming down badly, circling

like a huge steel feather.

Braced, the Chief looks out the side door -- and sees

ocean rushing up at him. Fast.

EXT. OCEAN - DAY

MCCOOL:

What the sh*t is...

Jordan whirls. She's just in time to witness...

The helo hitting the water. In seconds it's gone.

A stunned beat. We never knew the ocean could be this

quiet. When the anesthetic of shock wears off:

SLUTNIK:

You don't suppose this is just part

of...

JORDAN:

FLEA! KEEP YOUR EYES ON THAT SPOT!

Mark it, mark it! Cortez? What the

hell you waiting for?

Cortez torques his wrench hard: CO2 flows into the ILB,

inflating it. The crew scrambles aboard. Jordan digs

like a dog to find a radio.

JORDAN:

Base, this is Crew Leader Six. We

have a downed helo 12 miles west-

south west of base with three

aboard. Repeat, we have a downed

helo with three aboard...

Slutnik yanks a starter cord: Their outboard MOTOR ROARS

to life. The boat does a donut in the water and blasts

away.

CUT TO:

EXT. OCEAN - DAY

The ILB powers over swells. Flea is perched on the bow,

nose to the wind like a hunting dog.

FLEA:

CUT IT! CUT IT HERE!

Slutnik motors down.

FLEA:

Close as I can get, el-tee!

JORDAN:

Flea, 'Cool, Cortez, Newman -- take

your minis, hit the water. Go, GO!

They grab masks and mini-tanks and dive in like dolphins.

Jordan snaps up the radio.

JORDAN:

Base, this is Crew Leader Six. What

is your E.T.A. on that rescue helo?

Over.

BASE (V.O.)

Crew Leader, we have a Medevac

rerouting from Long Beach, but no

other helos prepped at this time.

Seafox One and Two are launching

now. Over.

A beat.

JORDAN:

Base, don't think you copied me. We

are 12 miles out. Seafox tops out

at 30 knots, which makes it a no-

show for 18 minutes. Over.

BASE (V.O.)

You copied right, Crew Leader.

We're looking for options ourselves.

SLUTNIK:

Maybe we should call the Coast

Guard.

JORDAN:

Shut your hole, Slutnik.

CUT TO:

EXT. OCEAN - DAY

McCool surfaces.

MCCOOL:

Visibility drops dead at 40 feet.

If they're deeper than that...

The others surface and swim in.

CORTEZ:

Nobody's comin' outta that crash,

el-tee. Nobody.

A grim beat -- and then A CRACKLE on the radio. With a

voice seemingly from the far side of the moon:

THE CHIEF (V.O.)

Base, this is Basher One. I've got

a small problem here. Do you copy?

Jaws drop.

JORDAN:

(into radio)

Basher One, this is O'Neil. We are

barely reading you. What is your

situation?

EXT. CRASHED HELO - UNDERWATER - DAY

50 feet down, the helo lies canted on a reef shelf.

INT. CRASHED HELO - UNDERWATER - DAY

Wedged into a tortured maze of hydraulics and equipment,

we find the Chief, operating out of an air-pocket near the

windscreen. The pilot is dead, impaled on his cyclic

stick, head submerged. The co-pilot is still alive,

barely. The Chief struggles to keep the man's head up as

he keys a survival radio.

THE CHIEF:

Got one other heartbeat here, looks

touch and go. I've got a

questionable leg.

EXT. OCEAN - DAY

THE CHIEF (V.O.)

Managed to activate the ELB. If you

just radio base and let them know,

they'll fix on that. Oh, and make

sure they send a helo with a winch

-- door's blocked by a reef. Over.

JORDAN:

Chief, sir -- rescue team won't be

here for 15 minutes. What's your

air situation? Over.

THE CHIEF (V.O.)

Say again? How many micks?

JORDAN:

15, sir.

INT. CRASHED HELO - UNDERWATER - DAY

The Chief sizes up his air pocket.

THE CHIEF:

(into radio)

That... may not be adequate.

EXT. OCEAN - DAY

FLEA:

If we could just fix on him...

MCCOOL:

Beacon's a no-go for us.

JORDAN:

(into radio)

Chief -- did I see a flare box

aboard? And can you get at it?

Over.

EXT. CRASHED HELO - UNDERWATER - DAY

The Chief props up the co-pilot's head. Gulps air. Ducks

underwater to grope through wreckage. Only now do we see

that "questionable leg" he was talking about: It's

snapped at mid-calf, blood rivering out.

EXT. OCEAN - DAY

THE CHIEF (V.O.)

Got it.

JORDAN:

(into radio)

Show us where you are, Chief.

EXT. CRASHED HELO - UNDERWATER - DAY

Again the Chief goes below water. He finds a small breach

in the fuselage... sticks the flare launcher through...

and pulls the trigger.

With a MAGNESIUM FLASH, the flare launches...

EXT. UNDERWATER - DAY

... streaks toward the surface...

EXT. OCEAN - DAY

... and arcs into daylight 50 yards behind the ILB.

FLEA:

Six o'clock! Marking, marking!

JORDAN:

Spotted you, Chief. Pri One is to

slip you some air, so we're coming

down with a tank -- just something

until the A-team shows. Over.

An ominous beat.

JORDAN:

Chief?

CHIEF (V.O.)

O'Neil... there's no air in your

main tanks.

MCCOOL:

What?

They scramble to check their main dive tanks. Even

through the gauges show full, they're dead empty. All of

them.

INT. CRASHED HELO - UNDERWATER - DAY

THE CHIEF:

(into radio)

This mission wasn't about tagging

mines. It was to see how you coped

with mechanical failures. Pretty

f***in' ironic, huh?

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